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Katherine recorded her
idealised impressions of life in the Institute kitchen:
“Nina, a big girl
in a black apron – lovely, too – pounds things in mortars. The second cook
chops at the table,
bangs the saucepans, sings; another runs in and out with plates and pots, a
man in the scullery cleans pots – the dog barks and
lies on the floor, worrying a hearthbrush. A little
girl comes in with a bouquet of leaves for Olga
Ivanovna. Mr Gurdjieff strides in, takes up a handful of shredded cabbage and
eats it … there are at least 20 pots
on the stove. And it’s so full of life and humour and ease that one wouldn’t be
anywhere else.” |