London 8: Art…from the traditional to the exceptional

There are about a million art museums and galleries in London. We didn’t get to that many of them, but hit a few of the big ones during our couple of months there. Like the British Museum, and really most of the major museums in London, all the major art galleries have free entry, with some more substantial fee for special exhibitions. A few require you to get timed tickets, but even those you can usually get just by walking up to the entrance. Overall, it’s a pretty good deal for both locals and tourists. (Note that some of the major historical sites, like the Tower of London, are much more expensive. About $33/person. Not sure why there’s such a disparity between different types of places.) Anyhow, here’s a quick rundown on some of the more interesting bits…

The last art museum I visited (only very briefly, on my own) was the Tate Britain. I went there on the day I tried to visit the Imperial War Museum but found it was closed. Jess was off doing an interview, but got done early, so I only stayed for a bit. That’s OK. While there were definitely some interesting things there, a huge chunk of the collection appeared to be pre-20th century European stuff, most of which I’m not terribly interested in. So, with my little time there, I sought out some of the more modern stuff.

I won’t bore you with every image–there were some cool paintings and all, but the most fascinating thing was a gigantic installation that was the first thing you encountered when entering the galleries. This work is known as “The Procession,” by Hew Locke, a British/Guyanese artist. It looks like some sort of festive carnival procession, but there are some troubling elements. There are references to the history of slavery, colonialism, war and violence, to encroaching environmental disaster (rising waters), etc. (You can read more about this installation here.) It’s also interesting because just before entering this space there’s a note on the wall about how Henry Tate made his money in the sugar industry. They note that this was after the period of slavery, but this business was only possible because of the history of slavery. As Locke’s work was commissioned specifically for this space, he is clearly interacting with that history.

The only other thing I really want to share from here was a sign on the wall that cracked me up. There was a fairly large collection of works by Henry Moore. The sign says, “In 1938, the Director of the Tate Gallery, JB Manson, declared that ‘over my dead body will Henry Moore ever enter the Tate.’ Today there are 634 works by Henry Moore in the Tate collection.” It goes on from there to explain that Recumbent Figure, shown below, was the first one added (only a year after Manson’s statement), and that Moore served on the Board of Trustees for 15 years or so. I thought his sculptures were interesting, but mostly I thought the contrast with Manson’s statement was hilarious.

On a separate occasion, Jessica and I visited the Tate Modern. This is an enormous museum housed in an old power station right next to the Globe Theatre and across the river from St. Paul’s Cathedral. Sadly, I didn’t take a picture of the cavernous interior area that separates two halves of the building. It feels truly overwhelming.

Inside, there’s all sorts of fascinating stuff. A few of my favorites…

• Silke Otto-Knapp’s works. I found the description of her technique utterly fascinating, so I’m just going to copy it here for you: “She paints the forms and figures by applying layers of watercolour paint to a canvas and then carefully washes them away. The pigment from the paint floats on the surface. Otto-Knapp moves the separated pigment so it settles in other areas of the canvas. As she repeats this process, layers build up, creating a dark background. The outline of her erased images gradually emerges in contrast to this background. Otto-Knapp then uses brushes, sponges, or her fingers to control the variation between light and dark, defining the figures more clearly. Despite looking as though it was painted with multiple shades of black and white paint, this work was made using a single watercolour pigment called lampblack.”

• In another room, Edward Krasniski had a fascinating installation with mirrors and other materials, all with blue painters tape running across every surface at the same height off the ground. Here I am taking a picture of myself…

• Sarah Sze had a beautiful and playful installation titled Seamless. It was mostly fun to trace all the interconnections of off objects, but also I enjoyed the fact that Seamless included cuts into the walls of the gallery, creating a definite engagement with the seams.

• A powerful set of images by Judy Watson reproduced official documents about discriminatory laws targeting Aboriginal Australians. In particular, they focused on the fact that unless they had a white parent, Aboriginal folks were not allowed to vote until the 1960s. Obviously, these documents are all stained with blood.

• Cecilia Vicuña’s Quipu Womb is a series of knotted strings (like a quipu–look it up if you don’t know about these!), but the vivid blood red and enormous size (see the people in the background of each photo?) celebrates women’s power and creativity.

• The coolest piece in the place, though, was certainly Yinka Shonibare’s The British Library. This is an enormous room filled with about 6,000 books. Each is covered in Dutch wax print fabrics (a Dutch imitation of Indonesian techniques, which became quite popular in places like Lagos, where Shonibare grew up) and bears the name of a first- or second-generation immigrant to Britain. It was a gorgeous room, and a fascinating way to call attention to color and variety that makes up modern Britain.

On Valentine’s Day (which Jess and I ignore), as we wandered aimlessly through the city, we ducked into the National Gallery simply to avoid a giant downpour outside. We weren’t the only ones–they stopped checking timed tickets to let the swell of people escaping the rain in. It’s a beautiful building, with a sizeable collection that basically takes you on a tour of European art from the Renaissance up to the late 19th century or so. I think mostly I’m just not that excited about the fact that everything has either a religious theme, is a portrait of a famous person, or involves women who have trouble staying dressed flopping around like fish. The galleries do end with some impressionist stuff, which I tend to like, but mostly I wasn’t blown away by the collection.

• OK, first, I should say that despite what I said above, there was some quite beautiful stuff, like this one by Carlo Crivelli.

• And some interesting twists, like this unfinished work by Michelangelo, which gives some interesting insights into his process.

• And I quite liked the meta of this piece that includes a mythical collection that depicts actual works by a wide variety of reknowned artists. The artist behind this is unknown, but it comes from 17th century Belgium.

• However, the most fascinating thing was in the heart of this museum dedicated to a bunch of classics painted by dead white guys. Right in the middle of it was a special exhibit by Kehinde Wiley. This exhibit included a series of paintings putting modern Black folks in places, poses, and situations that are typical of the classic paintings surrounding it. There was also an interesting 6-panel video as well, but mostly, the paintings were a great contrast with the works in the rest of building.

The most insane and overwhelming of the art museums we visited was definitely the Victoria and Albert Museum. When we went in and grabbed a map we were instantly confused. There are some sections based on the type of art (sculpture, photography), and others based on world regions (South Asia, Japan), and yet more based on history (Medieval). Not to mention there were five floors and just way too much to possibly see. We ended up wandering fairly aimlessly and happened upon a variety of things from the fascinating to the mundane.

• Probably the silliest thing was this incredibly lavishly expensive statue of a dog, Beshaw, that the Earl of Dudley comissioned.

• Also on the silly end, but more fun and amusing was this set of brass instruments that had literally been smushed flat by the hydraulics on Tower Bridge.

• As far as overwhelm goes, there was our brief walk past the “Cast Courts” where copies of famous works from Michelangelo’s David to Trajan’s Column are displayed. It’s an enormous couple of rooms filled with cast copies of one piece after another.

• We spent a bit of time in the photography section and there were some amazing experimental and artistic photographs. But, one part I particularly liked was an exhibit of works by Maurice Bloomfield titled, “The Industrial Sublime.” He worked as a professional photographer for various industries in the mid-20th century and his photos showed both the pride of workers and the power of technology.

• Down the hall from Photography was the enormous Jewellery collection. This room displayed everything of ornamental value from the ancient world to the present. Some of it was over the top hideous, other bits gorgeous, all of it expensive. A few examples…

We just wandered through some spaces where we could have spent ages if we had more time. For instance, an enormous hallway of gorgeous ironwork through the ages, several rooms dedicated to stained glass, and a ridiculously huge collection of silver.

• Elsewhere, there was a great collection of illuminated manuscripts, one of my favorite things to examine. This included some great explanations of different styles, and even of particular artists, as well as a collection of fakes and forgeries. Below: a work by Girolamo da Cremona, a master of perspective in the late 1400s, and a dragon-enlaced B from a book about morals in the Book of Job (13th cent. CE, based on 6th century lectures by Gregory the Great).

Of course, there were a million other galleries and museums we didn’t get to visit. (Number one reason to move back to London?) But we did randomly pop our heads into a great little gallery that had an exhibit by the Society of Wood Engravers. I really love wood-cut art, and there were some lovely examples here of a wide variety of styles. If we’d been at home, I might have even bought something, but…travelling…nope.

More art to come. Less stuffy and indoors. Until then…