A Dickensian/Gothick tableau in the darkened cafe ... an actor face-painted in red personifying Death, sits down at long straight table with an imposing retinue of sinister companions, some of the men with tall hats, the women plumed or tiara-d, each one strikingly elegant and sinister in black.
In the Japanese gallery, a treasure house of joyfully aspirational marvels and perfections, a row of very young people, too young to properly know the tragic passions and the deadly sins, sitting cross-legged in eager anticipation to watch an old black-and-white fillum of the visceral Japanese ghost tale, Onibaba.
The luminous and never ending life-stream of interesting bodies and faces and fashions and fancy-dress entering this great museum as if it were their second home.
