Category: art

Europe Day 3: London

Before separating from my friends to meet up with my relatives for dim sum and sightseeing, we were treated to a Jesmond “full English breakfast,” included in our nightly fee. When compared with a meal of Muslix and toast at our final London hotel, or even the Contiki breakfasts, the hot, made-to-order plate of beans, eggs, sausage and bacon, supplemented with fresh fruit, toast, coffee and juice spoiled us dearly early on in our trip.

Imagine waking up to this every day (calories notwithstanding)
As I had some time to kill before needing to head to Chinatown, I returned to the nearby British Museum for another spin. Turns out I had (oops) missed the Rosetta Stone my first time, among other things. Due to the car bomb incident in Glasgow the day before, there were police randomly checking bags at the entrance, a measure of heightened security not present during my last visit.

I’m not sure what it was besides nasty coincidence, but it was uncanny that the days that I spent with my relatives were never entirely free of rain. So much so that my cousin May started jokingly blaming the wet weather on me. This day was no different.

On one of the few Chinatown streets in London

After lunch, we headed in the direction of the London Eye, snapping pictures, briefly admiring the buskers on the South Bank, and stopping in the Namco Station arcade in County Hall to (surprise, surprise) get out of the rain.

With the London Eye

We walked past Big Ben, and stopped for a coffee break in a pub en route to Westminster Abbey. I am not immune to blame, as I should have been able to recognize the famous landmark, but we couldn’t locate it. When we stopped for directions, the gentleman pointed, almost laughingly, to the “big white building” we couldn’t miss. Shame. (It still boggles my mind how many Kodak landmarks are within walking distance of each other.)

Big Ben


Coffee (never liked beer, probably never will) in a pub with Cousin Kelly


Westminster Abbey

Here, I met up with the girls, and we Tubed to the Globe Theatre, arriving with quite a bit of time to spare before our 6:30pm curtain. As seems custom by now, we spent the free time before our play in a museum.

Tate Modern is an amazing space, a gallery of (post)modern art built out of a former power station. The exhibit we visited was called Global Cities and focused on the sustainability of large population centres. Even more than the prints, photography, sculpture and multimedia displayed, I was floored by the exposed scaffolding used to make up the two levels of the exhibition – a visual representation of density and differing perspectives, and an effective use of a stark metal jungle to signify the underbelly of growth.

Global Cities exhibit


May, Annie and Janice at Tate Modern


The Millenium Bridge and me

After a frugal dinner consisting of Tesco sandwiches and juice by the Millenium Bridge, we walked to the Globe Theatre and readied ourselves for a few hours of groundling toil. We had purchased the five quid cheap tickets, meaning we would be standing for the duration of the play at the foot of the stage. In the end, though I should have worn a different pair of shoes (my ankles were crying after three hours), it was pretty cool to watch Love’s Labour’s Lost from where we did. As most people know, I just don’t have an inbred love of Shakespeare most English teachers are born with. But to see it on stage, illuminated in speech (thus noticing the poetry of iambic pentameter), direction (the scene involving column hide and seek was hilarious), and use of vulgar visual gags (the age-old horn prop) made me fully appreciate Shakespeare for the master that he was. And darn it if casting Trystan Gravelle as Berowne didn’t help his case.

The Globe Theatre at nightfall


The stage


The girls with Henry and his beary friends

I did pick up a program (I don’t know if I will ever get used to having to pay for playbills), and successfully avoided buying the too clever “Out, damned spot! Out, I say!” handkerchiefs and 50p felt strawberries “from” Othello.

We took our time getting back to the hotel, but had we known the long day that was to come, perhaps we would better prepared ourselves with a good night’s rest.

Art Gallery of Alberta: China Sensation

One of the city’s best kept secrets is the Art Gallery of Alberta‘s free admission on Thursday evenings from 4-8pm. So on Thursday I headed to the temporary gallery location (100, 10230 Jasper Avenue) with a few friends to view the current exhibits.

As the Enterprise Square space is merely provisional, I wasn’t expecting much. As it turns out, with expansive white walls and bright spot lighting, it is a definite improvement upon the dingy, dark halls of the previous building.

I was especially interested in the pictures that were a part of the China Sensation display, as I had read some of the media coverage surrounding these “cutting edge” works. Though I can’t say I understood most (okay, almost all) of the pieces, it was definitely interesting to be exposed to Chinese art that was anything but landscapes and flowers. Between the flamingo-human hybrids, cannibalistic pigs, and neon portrayals of child pest slayers, it was quite the barrage of images. I had no idea art on this plane was being produced in China.

The exhibit runs until June 10.

The Apartment Show

I read about “The Apartment Show” in ed Magazine last week, and thought it was a fascinating concept. Artists were invited to a dilapidated apartment complex to transform the soon-to-be-renovated rooms into installation art, harvesting the energy of the space and at times whatever materials were left behind as inspiration. As Blair Brennan, one of the artists who participated in the show, explains in the ed piece, “‘I like the analogy of a crime scene when it comes to interpreting installation art. The evidence is laid there, but it’s up to the viewer to interpret it, to create some kind of fictional narrative, a story that will make sense of what they see.'”

Mack and I headed over to the non-descript building on Sunday afternoon. I somehow didn’t expect anyone else to be there, but was pleasantly surprised to find a small group of patrons wandering the floors when we got there. After depositing a donation to the iHuman Youth Society, we were invited to explore the parts of the building not occupied. We wandered from room to room, scanning over brief descriptions of each of the individual exhibits. From a very intense condom-decorated bathroom (no pictures, sorry), to a brightly-painted mock children’s room with aptly placed societal influences of guns and Playboy magazines, the displays ran the gamut from arcane to somewhat intelligible for us.

My favorite had to be the “caretakers room,” with a plethora of hand-written notes plastered from floor to ceiling on the walls – from phone messages to directions to incomprehensible shorthand lists – it was overwhelming to be confronted with so many “moments” that had meaning for somebody, somewhere, at some time.

As with the Free for All exhibit, we probably didn’t spend as much time as we could have, but I appreciated the opportunity to be exposed to alternative perspectives.

Mack next to axe

Sign as you enter the room with the axe

Mack with giant Coke can ball (looks unsurprisingly happier than he did with the axe)

A child’s bedroom

Interior of “caretakers room”

On one side of the wall

Close-up of one section of the notes

Art Gallery of Alberta: Free for All

Following brunch, Mack and I made our way to the Art Gallery of Alberta to visit the “Free for All” exhibit. According to the website, over 1300 artists, from amateur to professional, brought in a total of 2863 pieces of art to be displayed in the gallery free of charge.

Walking in, I was overwhelmed by the spectacle of creativity; it was literally a visual assault of color and images. Due to the sheer number of submissions, I had to wonder how difficult it must have been to curate. There was some coherence in places (e.g. tigers, the outdoors), but the majority of walls were adorned with a seemingly random assemblage of pictures.

The variety of representations was amazing – from collages to comic sketches, shadow boxes to 3-D models – it would be easy to spend a week just taking the time to look at each of the pieces individually. I was pleasantly surprised that there weren’t a noticeable number of landscape portraits or religious depictions among the bunch.

My favorite pieces included:

Calendar (which to me speaks of how our experiences are quite literally worn on our sleeves)

Peace Map (with its interesting detail)

Title unknown, but darn clever

Honorable mentions go to Shrine, a smile-inducing ode to Bill Gates

And Hugh Laurie as House

I loved how alive the gallery was – kids and families wandering the halls together. The odd time I have been there, the patrons were few and far between, so it was a nice change to see the energy and excitement pulsing through the space. I remarked at one point how easy it would be for so-called “real,” marketable art to be placed among “amateur” submissions unbeknownst to the casual viewer. So, on that note, what to make of this giant Q-tip?

The free exhibit runs until March 24.

Jack Vettriano

Those who have visited me know that my office is sparsely decorated. Unless my Akeelah and the Bee promotional spelling flashcards count, I do not have any personal mementos on display. Something I have gotten rather attached to over the last year, however, is my 2006 Jack Vettriano wall calendar.

Ever since I saw a reproduction of “The Singing Butler” a few years ago, I’ve sought out Vettriano’s works for their representations of relationships, romance, mystery, and intrigue. From the elegant couple waltzing under the moonlight in “Dance Me to the End of Love”, to the playfully titled “The Shape of Things to Come”, which depicts an obedient husband trailing his wife, to the smooth, suave rat pack in “The Billy Boys”, each painting encapsulates a model of escapism. I love the fluidity and movement of the figures, each captured omnisciently, mid-moment. My favorites are those where the characters have their backs turned to the viewer – I find it easier to utilize my imagination when the spirit and mood of the picture and not detailed facial features are emphasized.

One painting featured in the calendar, “In Thoughts of You”, actually spurned some debate amongst a few women in my office. A woman, dressed in black and stiletto heels, is profiled sitting with a wine glass, gazing out a window. My interpretation was that she had pulled herself together for a night out on the town, but before venturing outside, needed to take a minute to mourn her very recent heartbreak. My coworkers had a range of story opinions as well: from overcoming the emotional carnage garnered from a one-night stand, to a simple but necessary moment of quiet meditation and self-reflection. I’m not an art connoisseur in the least, but I find art most enjoyable when dynamic discussion is inherently encouraged. While some would say Vettriano’s “paint by numbers” style makes such consideration superfluous, I favor the grounding in a reality I can recognize.

In October 2005, it was proven that Vettriano, a self-taught artist, copied the well-known figures from a sketch book. Though critics didn’t need any more ammunition to fuel their dislike of his designs, they used this as further evidence that Vettriano shouldn’t be venerated. In this I have to agree with the Wikipedia entry: “His talent lies in placing his figures in an unusual narrative context.” It’s not who he paints, it’s how he paints them.

In any case, I am currently on the lookout for the 2007 Vettriano calendar, so I can enjoy his art for another year.