My final day in Sweden, and I have a few hours to myself. Stockholm is made up of five islands (each dissected by a currently very icy river), and I decide to visit the Museum of Modern Art, based on the smallest of these, Skeppsholmen. There's an amazing visiting photography exhibition, by a photographer called Andreas Gursky, whose forte is playing with scale. This results in beautiful, painterly photos, which on closer inspection reveal tiny figures skiing, or picnicking. The permanent exhibition is also very impressive, with works by Picasso, Braque, Brancusi and Duchamp among others. It's an embarrassment of riches, and I'm glad to have been able to fit it into my busy trip.
I meet up with Gustav in town once again, for coffee, cake, and a farewell. We talk about South Park, rural Swedish dialects, and how Swedes manage to stay so slim, considering the delicious cakes and pastries available in every cafe.
I set off for the airport, and the long journey home.
The week has been a whirlwind introduction to the world of Swedish theatre. I've been impressed by the dedication to the arts, and the way cultural pursuits are completely integrated into everyones' lives. I return full of inspiration and a renewed energy for my own work. I've met some truly lovely, funny, and interesting people, who I hope to meet again. Maybe in the UK this time so I can return the favour?
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