Week 9: SAATCHI GALLERY

Sightlines

The Saatchi Gallery, more so than most other museums we have visited, allowed visitors to engage with the artwork from multiple perspectives. This was most evident in the "Up" and "Down" pieces that our tour guide first pointed out. Because these pieces were centrally located in the gallery, we were able to observe them from every angle, which made them more impressive because we saw every footprint, etc. within the clay. Had these been in a corner or on a wall, we would not have gotten the same expereince. I really appreciate this type of gallery design, especially because there were so many three-dimensional pieces like these in the Saatchi Gallery. Arranging the pieces so that the museum visitors can view them from multiple perspectives gives greater deference to the pieces themselves. In other museums we have visited, especially the Tate Modern, certain exhibits have allowed for similar multiple sightlines, but this was most pronounced in the Saatchi. 

Didactics

As someone who is an art "outsider," it often frustrates me when text descriptions of a piece are lacking. Usually, if I see an unusual, confusing piece, I immediately consult the title and artist description in search of explanation. However, after listening to our tour guide describe the inhibiting/constraining effective of text, I see the relationship between art and didactics a bit differently. I appreciated her point that the more text there is describing the piece, the more that contributes to a static meaning of a piece, which is usually not the aim of the artist; rather, minimalistic text allows visitors to interpret the artwork on their own, even if that means a frustrating initial experience, as I witnessed. 

Collection

The Saatchi Gallery was certainly the most unconventional museum we have visited during our course. Even in comparison to the pieces in the Tate Modern, the artwork at the Saatchi is pretty out there. The building itself has a beautiful interior, and I often felt that some of the pieces didn't belong is such a bright, pristine building off of Sloane Square. I appreciated certain pieces individually, but others frustrated and/or frightened me. Specifically, two pieces on the ground floor did not sit well with me. The first was the taxidermic goat intertwined with a Dior perfume bottle. I will never see my Dior perfume bottle the same again after this experience. The other piece that disconcerted me was the sort of horse structure with blue plastic and a fur coat draped over it. These were the last two pieces I saw before leaving the gallery, which probably contributed negatively to my overall interpretation of the collection. In retrospect, I can appreciate the Saatchi Gallery for being the most adventurous collection we have visited, although I'm not sure how frequently I would return in the future.

Week 8: Street Art

After viewing "Exit Through the Gift Shop," I've been really intrigued by street art and the people who create it. I was completely unaware of the expanse of street art culture, especially in large cities like London, and I find myself more aware of graffiti across the city now than I was before. This is a good thing, because a lot of the artwork that I do see, I really enjoy. It's something that I had clearly been neglecting to notice before. This week during our History of London class, we took a walking tour around the East End near Brick Lane. This area is basically London's answer to the Village in New York--jam packed with culture. Obviously we saw a lot of street art, and not just run of the mill spray paint tags. As a result of seeing the Banksy movie, I also found it easier to distinguish between "legitimate" street art, and mere decals/stickers imitating as such. It is difficult for me to categorize any of the following pieces as "diminishing" the landscape, mostly because they were all found in the East End, which has sufficient character to sustain such graffiti. The East End is one area of London where they wouldn't describe street art as vandalism, while a place like South Kensington might be less receptive to graffiti. While I wouldn't categorize these pieces as classically beautiful, I think all four of these examples enhance the landscape they inhabit. 

This first piece is located within a mural at the entrance to Brick Lane. This area has been home to immigrant communities for centuries, and is currently largely inhabited by a Bangladeshi population. I like the juxtaposition of a static black and white pattern with bold colors. The text could be interpreted as commentary on the constant flux of the immigrant community. The color of the German flag dominate the piece from the top, so it could also be a political statement. Either way, it is an eye-catching part of the landscape at the entrance to Brick Lane, and gives you a sense of what kind of art you'll find within the community.

This is one of my favorite pieces of street art that we discovered in the East End. Not because I like birds (I don't, at all), but because it was the most striking art that I saw during our tour, despite its lack of color. It was located on an unassuming side street off of Brick Lane in an area where there was no other graffiti. The lack of other art made this giant bird stand out even more against the landscape. I haven't a clue to its significance, but this kind of random design is exactly what I would want and expect out of London's East End. If I lived in this apartment building, I might not appreciate living in a bird-adorned establishment, but from an outsider perspective, it's interesting and also imposing.

This piece stood out to me because I recognized the design from the "Street Invaders" campaign that was briefly mentioned in the Banksy movie. It was located behind some warehouses, near the Women's Library in the East End. While this is not my favorite artwork, I appreciated seeing the work of a more mainstream street artist that I've actually heard of before. Short of seeing a Banksy, this was still quite impressive. I was under the assumption that street art put up by well-known street artists like Banksy, Shepard Fairey, or Space Invaders would be so short lived that it's rare to actually see it in the streets. Maybe this is evidence to the contrary, or maybe there are a lot of famous street art pieces around London that I haven't noticed yet! Last time I was in New York, I walked right past a Banksy, and didn't notice it until my brother pointed it out to me. I'm determined to be more vigilant here in London.

This piece is definitely my favorite of the street art I discovered in the East End. The reason I appreciate it so much is because of the way it was made, rather than the actual image. From afar, I assumed this was a poster, or maybe some kind of paint; from closer up though, I realized that the detail in this image is actually made from carving out small pieces of the concrete wall it is located on. This impressed me more than any graffiti street art that I saw all day, simply because of the time and detailing spent on creating this face, and the end result is very impressive, especially up close enough to see each piece that was chipped out. This was located in the same warehouse back alley/parking lot where I also found the Space Invaders. There were other examples of street art located here as well, so I guess it pays to wander off the beaten path, especially when you're on the hunt for street art.

Week 7: Ottoman Art

During my spring break trip to Turkey, I was exposed to artwork in Istanbul that was unlike many of the collections I’ve seen while in London. Often, when we visit art museums in London, there is an emphasis on classic, European Renaissance artwork. In other words, because I’m living in a major European center of culture and history, it makes sense that so much of the artwork here reflects that. I have a great affinity for these classic pieces, but I sometimes feel they can become monotonous, especially in large collections. It was both unusual and refreshing then, to discover a new style of art in the museums and mosques of Turkey. Below are two samples of what I consider to be European art: a portrait of Henry VIII at the Tate Britain museum, and the ceiling of the Banqueting House by Rubens, both in London. Artwork such as these were nowhere to be found in Turkey.

           What I found instead of these pieces in Turkey was brightly colored patterned tiles throughout the city at holy cites. There were fewer portraits, with an emphasis instead on creating harmonious sacred environments inside mosques. As the capital of Turkey and a bridge between Europe and Asia, Istanbul serves as both a religious and cultural epicenter for the country. The result of this status is myriad mosques sprinkled across the city that serve as places of worship, museums, and tourist attractions. The mosques are unique pieces of art on both the outside and the inside. The stone structures are covered on the outside with gilded Koran scripture, and are always recognizable from their domes and steeples. Two of the most notable mosques are the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sophia, both of which have striking exterior features and are pictures below. The mosques stood out because of their structural differences from their European counterparts: Christian churches. On the interior of the mosques, their differences became even more pronounced. Inside, every mosque was unique, but each with the same incredible intricate, rich designs on the walls, with the most ornate patterns on the ceilings. Rather than the gilded, stained glass interior of many European Churches, which are heavy with idolic statues, the interior emphasis of the mosques seemed to be on color, design, and harmony. Below are some of my favorite interior designs of mosques in Sultanahmet, Istanbul. 

The exterior of a Christian church in Istanbul, in contrast to the mosques below:

           Seeing so many examples of Ottoman artwork made me critically recall the experiences in art museums I've had while in London. In the second week of our program, we visited the Victoria & Albert Museum as a class, where I was interested in the Ottoman exhibit. At that time, the Ottoman tilework and fabric examples were intriguing to me because of their place of origin, rather than because of their beauty. After my trip to Turkey, I revisited this exhibit at the V&A last week, wondering if I would interpret them differently than I did the first time. My response to the tile work was not as it had been the first time I visited the V&A, and was not the same as my response in Turkey. This time, I connected to the tilework because of my own personal experience in their place of origin, and I was nostalgic for their original environment. For some reason, it was hard for me to get past the fact that I was observing these patterns through glass inside a museum in England, and that completely changed my experience. Ultimately, I’ve learned that the environment in which I’m exposed to artwork has a great impact on how I respond to it. In the case of the Ottoman tiles especially, I am able to appreciate them more when they are “in their element.” In other words, to see beautifully intricate, rich colors on the interior domes of mosques in Turkey is incredibly impressive; on the other hand, to see them behind glass in a museum in London is not doing them full justice. While their beauty is still the same at face value, they do not have the same aura of spirituality, which does so much to enrich the experience of their audience. Below are some examples of the Ottoman artwork inside the V&A museum, which are lacking personality in comparison with the tilework in Turkey, above.

 

Week 6: NATIONAL PORTRAIT GALLERY

1. Logo: This logo, like the National Gallery from last week, is a bit blasé to me. It is black and white, without any identifiable icon, and is purely typeface--to me, this doesn't give it much personality, which is a shame because the artwork within the gallery has a lot of personality. However, I do like that the logo is arranged in a perfect square, a shape which frames the title. This relates to the framed portraits throughout the gallery, so there is some connection between the logo and the collection. I would probably suggest creating some kind of simple icon, perhaps even an empty frame itself, to use in place of the National Portrait Gallery type, which could be less attractive on banners, pamphlets, maps, etc.

2. Self Portrait: I chose the portrait of Sarah Jennings, Duchess of Marlborough, by Sir Godfrey Kneller. Painted in 1702, this portrait has many qualities with which I identified. First, I love her pose. It is very classy and graceful, which are qualities I tirelessly strive to embody (...only partially joking). Second, I love her dress. It is quite simple, but elegantly draped; most importantly, it is shiny! I love anything that sparkles or shines, and silver is my favorite metallic colour. Finally, I love her makeup. She is wearing rose blush, which I wear every day! Basically, if I were around at the turn of the 17th century, I would hope to look like the Duchess.

 

3. Sarah: I chose the famous portrait of Lady Diana by Bryan Organ to express the essence of my friend Sarah. Sarah, while vibrant, social, and beautiful, is also occasionally clouted by melancholy and contemplation. To me, this portrait captures the conflicting qualities of Princess Diana, which I also see present in Sarah. Effortlessly pretty, with beautiful clothing that only enhances her natural beauty is how I see both of these women.

 

4. Karl: I immediately projected my friend Karl into this portrait of Alexander Pope at the National Portrait Gallery because of the they are both poets. I also love the portrayal of Pope from a profile angle, of which there were very few in the Gallery. For some reason, I think of Karl from a profile perspective, because I think it makes the subject seem more contemplative and unique, which is exactly what he is. I could definitely seek a portrait of Karl in this style on the cover of his imminent hip-hop album, or on the dust jacket of a book of his poetry.

 

5. Amanda: I saw my friend Amanda reflected in this portrait of Elizabeth Burnet mostly because of her facial expression. She is politely bemused, and looks like she was probably journalling or reading a book before being interrupted to sit for the portrait. Amanda is fair and beautiful, and doesn't have to put in much effort to look that way. The simple dress and hairstyle, with a slight smile in this portrait I see in Amanda almost every day. She is easy to overlook at first, but deserving of attention.

 

6. Lauryn: I love this portrait of Lady Colin Campbell for so many reasons. I love her pose, which is so natural but also beautiful and effortless. I love her dress, especially the fact that it is black, which for that time period should evoke mourning, yet she is full of life. My favorite part of her dress is the sleeves, which sort of blur at the edges and are quite feminine, yet bold. I saw my roommate Lauryn reflected in this portrait. On a surface level, Lauryn wears a lots of black and is quite stylish, but she is also gorgeous and graceful, like Lady Colin Campbell.

 

***Because I drew my portraits in pencil, they are a bit hard to see in these photos. However, I will be happy to display them in person so that you can get the full effect!