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!

Week 5: THE NATIONAL GALLERY

1. Logo: Unfortunately, I do think this "logo" is merely a typeface. There is very little personality to the logo, and I don't think it does justice to the collection in the museum. I also don't understand the emphasis of "Gallery" as the focal point of the logo, because I think that "National" would be a more appropriate point of emphasis. The Museum is located in a grand building with a roman column facade, and it is a central landmark on Trafalgar Square. This design and location warrants a better logo. Further, because of the classical, famous paintings in the collection, I would propose a new logo that would either be a classic typeface that is at least more exciting than the current one, or a simple and comprehensive symbol to put on merchandise, banners, etc.

2. van Gogh: I'm conflicted about my opinion of the van Gogh paintings. I have heard about Vincent van Gogh since I was a child, and seen his works manipulated in prints and on merchandise, so it was a strange experience to observe the actual pieces in person. Ultimately, I think the paintings did live up to the hype. However, I didn't have a particularly high opinion of his artwork to begin with. As a result, I was impressed with the texture and brushstrokes of the oil paints that I was able to see close-up, and which aren't really reflected in the myriad prints of his work that I've seen. But in terms of the paintings being visually pleasing to me personally, I was underwhelmed. I should qualify that this is largely in reference to the particular sunflower painting in the collection, which was my least favorite van Gogh in the gallery. It just doesn't stand out to me as beautiful, harmonious, or cheerful, which I think is what he was going for. I love sunflowers and the color yellow, but I do not particularly enjoy this painting. Perhaps I was put off by the lack of contrast, which usually characterizes impressionist paintings. My favorite van Gogh was the Wheatfields, which conversely I did think was quite beautiful. This painting definitely employs the contrast of colors typical of impressionism. The swirling paint strokes were reminiscent of his signature style in Starry Night, and I love the dramatic differences between the colors in the landscape. Perhaps if there was a broader collection of van Gogh's work in the National Gallery, I could have appreciated his body of work more comprehensively.

3. Object of Desire: I have two objects of desire. The first would be suitable for my mansion/palace/villa, while the later would be suitable for my (realistic) future home. Pierre Mignard's "Marquise de Seignelay and Two of her Sons" is one of my favorites from the collection. It is French, bright, bold, dramatic, and regal. This is exactly the kind of artwork I would hope to have in my future palace. Ordinarily, I wouldn't like to have a painting of actual people on my walls, but I could make an exception for this one. Also, it would have to be in a grand, intricate golden frame, of course. The second object of desire that I could realistically put in my future home is "The Western Railway and its Exit from Paris" by Charles Angrand. The subject matter of this painting isn't of much interest to me, but the colors of the oil paint and the brushstrokes stood out to me immediately. I specifically am drawn to the yellow-hued field in which an onlooker sits. I think the colors in this field are beautiful, especially in combination with one another. I would put this painting up on my wall during the springtime, or possibly late summer, but I wouldn't keep it up year-round.

4. Gallery/Display: I loved the display style of the National Gallery, especially in comparison to the Tate Modern last week. The dark, richly colored walls in shades of plum and turquoise and occasionally with patterned wallpaper, combined with dramatic, ornate golden frames was much more appealing to me than the blank, utterly white walls in the modern style. This really intensified the drama of the galleries, but I liked it. I think that giving these paintings a sort of regal surrounding does them greater justice. I also preferred the salon style because, as I discussed last week, there is less pressure to focus on one piece. This seems counterintuitive to be pressured by a blank white background, and feel at ease with a dark, dramatic background, but for some reason that's how I responded to the two different gallery styles. Also, I think I like the rich colored walls and ornate frames because that's how I want to decorate my house as an adult--the more gold, the better.

5. Exploitation/Merchandising: I don't think all the merchandising in museum gift shops diminishes the artwork, but some of it certainly does. I think producing postcards, poster prints, and books of the artwork is acceptable because it's not really manipulation of the image, but rather reproduced and appreciated for the piece itself. The National Gallery gift shop included all of these forms of reproduction, but they also stocked some rather demeaning products as well. In my opinion, selling umbrellas, neckties, refrigerator magnets, jewelry, and DVDs with images of famous paintings on them is unfortunate. I think the people who purchase said items probably don't appreciate the actual piece of art as much as they should. I also think that when an image of a famous work become so ubiquitous, people on the street would start to take a masterpiece for granted. Their images are on everyday, forgotten objects that don't do justice to the pieces of art. Rather, they are mass produced, and in my opinion, belittle the classic paintings they depict. That being said, I'm guilty of owning a few of these objects myself.

6. Object of Appreciation: The painting that caught my attention more than any other in the collection at the National Gallery was "The Execution of Lady Jane Grey" by Paul Delaroche. Once again, my reason for appreciation is the subject matter of the painting, which again reflects my interest in history, specifically British history. Jane Gray is particularly interesting to me because it was her rival, Mary Queen of Scots, who was responsible for her beheading after only nine days on the throne. She was only sixteen when she was executed, and her youth is clearly visible in this painting by Delaroche. The painting is incredibly dramatic, with dark shadows surrounding the central, bright angelic figure of Jane Gray, on her way to the chopping block. Her figure is clearly distraught, young, and scared, and the executioner dawned in red clothing waits exasperatedly to finish his duty. The painting is very striking (no pun intended), and I'd love to revisit it again.

Week 4: TATE MODERN

1. Logo: The variations within the Tate Modern logo are beneficial to the brand, in my opinion. Around the museum, in the shop, cafe, and on brochures, the Tate logo morphs from crisp and clear to blended and blurred. Most importantly, the logo is still always legible and recognizable. I think this variation significantly relates to the Tate Modern collection, which itself varies greatly in the period and origin of the pieces. The varied logo encompasses the broad range of contemporary art in Tate Modern, but also represents a consistent identity with the foundational base of "TATE". I think the blended Tate logo is much more appropriate for the Tate Modern museum than for the Tate Britain museum that we visited last week because the logo itself is modern and relates to the art collection much more so than the more traditional art in Tate Britain.

2. Free Admission: I have to constantly remind myself how lucky we are to visit these London museums for free. I can't imagine visiting art museums that house famous works of art for free in the United States. I do think that museum culture in the United States has a reputation as being only for the affluent. Going to a museum seems to be a high-brow form of entertainment, simply because the cost of admission to many museums, especially in big U.S. cities, is so high. This is certainly a deterrent for students, who usually have limited funds. Even though they may have an interest in art, the cost can be a major turn off, which is unfortunate for those individuals and also for the American museum culture more generally. In the four museums we have visited thus far in London, I don't see the museums populated exclusively by upper class visitors. Instead, I've seen families, students, young professions, etc.--people all across the spectrum. In a city as vibrant as London, I think museums add a significant amount to the cultural opportunities available to Londoners and visitors alike, and I think the U.S. should consider a museum model more akin to that of London.

3. The Unilever Series: Al Weiwei: I appreciate that the sunflower piece is a commentary on the relationship of the individual to the masses; however, I am uncertain if the display answers such philosophical life questions such as "what does it mean to be an individual in today's society." If a visitor to the museum wanted to, I'm sure he or she could contemplate on the exhibit and extract answers to such poignant questions. In my opinion, however, I think the exhibit is intriguing and impressive without delving too far into its intention. When I first saw the sea of porcelain sunflower seeds from above, I honestly thought I was looking at gray textured carpet. Once I actually went down to the ground level, I was really taken aback. I could focus on one individual seed spilling toward the edge of the concrete plane they rested on, and then look up to see literally millions of these same seeds stretching to the exterior wall of the museum. I watched the short film on the artist's process, and I was struck by the scenes in which elderly Chinese women sat and hand-painted every single seed. For these women, I think it would be easier to distinguish and appreciate the value of individuality in the seeds, as they were the ones physically creating them. As a visitor to the museum, it is hard to fathom the work that went into each seed, yet I appreciated the magnitude of the project. In relation to the other installation art we have seen this semester, I like this exhibit the most. While it attempts to evoke reaction and contemplation in the philosophical realm, I am able to appreciate the beauty and simplicity of the work alone, which cannot be said for other exhibits (mainly the Coral Reef).

4. Display: I have noticed more and more with each museum we visit that the wall color, frame, and gallery arrangement have much more of an impact on how I perceive a piece of art than I originally thought. The striking white walls in modern art museums like the Tate usually make me feel uncomfortable. In galleries with sparsely hung, large pieces on utterly white walls, I feel pressured to be overwhelmed by a piece. There is so much attention and focus on one single piece because of the empty white walls surrounding it, and for some reason this is unsettling to me. Even if I genuinely like the piece, I still feel pressured to stare at it in awe for a long period of time. In contrast to this experience in modern art galleries, I have appreciated the variation in wall color, frame, etc. in the other museums we have visited, mainly the V&A and Tate Britain. Especially in the romantics gallery last week, I felt as ease with turquoise walls, gold frames, and salon style hanging, and I definitely prefer this arrangement to that in modern galleries.

5. Power Station to Museum: Tate Modern is architecturally the most unusual museum I've ever visited, both inside and out. When I first came to the Tate a few years ago, I was sure that my brother was wrong when he pointed from the Millennium Bridge and said "that's the Tate Modern museum." It does not look like an art museum, and in fact I initially thought it was a terrible eyesore on the Thames riverbank. Now that I've visited it a few times, I appreciate it more. The outside is striking and provoking, which is exactly what its subject matter aims to be. Inside, the amount of open space is overwhelming. It truly feels like a gutted power station, yet there are swarms of people clambering about. I also think the interior layers of the museum are interesting. The ground and first floors are bare, with the exception of a small cafe, gift shop, and the featured exhibit (in this case the sunflower seeds). The main exhibits are spread out on two floors, with a floor for special exhibits sandwiched in-between. The top floor is my favorite, because the view of the city is stunning, and you can mingle in a comfortable atmosphere when you inevitably need a break from the artwork below. I suppose the concept for this museum is not one I would have chosen, which would have been almost a cliche futuristic, ultra-modernist glass building of some sort. In comparison, I think i quite like the power state Tate Modern better anyway.

6. Object of Appreciation: My favorite gallery in the museum was the Soviet street posters room. The prints in this room were initially produced by the Bolsheviks after the Revolution, and were continually produced under the reign of Stalin. The brightly colored propaganda posters were visible across the Soviet Union. I love this gallery because every space on the walls in filled, from the floor to the ceiling. The images are bright and animated, which reinforces Soviet patriotism and allows for hyperbolic representation of the political adversaries of the USSR. My favorite wall in the gallery was a collection of posters aimed at women in the Soviet Union. The messages ranged from telling women to keep quite and not spread political gossip, to appeals to the Red Army to protect the endangered women and children of the Soviet Union. I like the combination of women portrayed as figured who can actually contribute to the political culture (as seen in the top two posters of strong-looking women), to ones in need of protection (in the lower two posters). My favorite print in the room in called "The Mullah's Third Wife" by Josiv Gerasimovich in 1926. There's no description of who the woman really is (besides being the Mullah's third wife), but I love the color and shape of the painting. I think the red is very striking, a color which is ubiquitous in all of the posters as a symbol of Soviet power. This poster is simply beautiful, and I would love to return to it at the Tate or have a print of it myself.

Week 3: TATE BRITAIN

1. Logo: I have mixed feelings on the Tate logo, but overall I think the Tate Britain logo is inadequate given the subject matter of the museum. Especially in contrast to the Tate Modern museum, I think the Tate Britain museum is too traditional to employ such an unconventional logo. The misty, spray paint-like quality of the word "TATE" is attractive and unique, yet it does not mesh well with all of the exhibits in the museum. Whereas I think it fits exceedingly well with the Tate Modern museum, the logo here makes me think that the designers of the museum simply didn't want to put in the work to create a new identity for the companion museum to Tate Modern. Perhaps if I understood the relationship between the two museums better, I might approve of the Tate Britain logo more. I just don't think it is appropriate for a museum that is currently exhibiting the romantic paintings of JMW Turner. Another portion of the museum identity that I was unsatisfied with was the prominence of sponsorship. On almost every title wall, I saw the BP symbol with a caption that the exhibit was "Sponsored by BP". I saw this in every part of the museum, in multiple exhibits. For some reason, this really distracted me, and I think they could have simplified things by including a blurb about BP in the museum map.

2. Ophelia: The portrayal of Ophelia's death that we saw in the National Theater production of Hamlet contrasts greatly with the painting of Ophelia's death by Millais in the Tate Britain. Millais' depiction of Ophelia's death is traditional. Whenever I have read Hamlet or seen classic productions of Hamlet, the death of Ophelia is complete with drowning, a flowing gown, and lots of flowers and greenery around her. Indeed, in Millais' painting, Ophelia's death is portrayed with all these trimmings, including ornate blossoms on her dress, and she is surrounded by nature. In the modern interpretation of Hamlet that we saw at the National Theater, Ophelia's death was nothing like this at all. The greatest difference was that her death was not actually portrayed on the stage, the audience was instead told about her death, rather than actually seeing it, like in most other productions. Additionally, because this production of Hamlet was set in a modern police-state, Ophelia was the victim of a sort-of mob hit, rather than her usual route of suicide. Therefore, there was no ornate death scene for Ophelia in the production that we saw.

 

3. Display: I appreciated Tate Britain because their diverse collection of works allowed me to really distinguish display styles between exhibits. In one room there could be a modern sculpture gallery, and in another classic romantic paintings. In the modern style of gallery 11, the sparse white walls drew attention to the few pieces in the room. In addition to the relatively bare walls, the lines of the works were rigid, straight, and minimalistic. The result of this institutional setup was that the color and variation within the pieces really stood out. My attention was drawn to the pieces in these modern galleries immediately upon entry into the room, so the artwork was definitely the focal point. This contrasts with the display technique of the pre-Raphael style display in gallery 9, which had a much more ornate and almost cluttered feel to it. A major contrast was the pieces in the pre-Raphael display were arranged on the wall at varied heights, whereas the modern gallery had all of the artwork on the same geometric plane. Additionally, the paintings in the pre-Raphael style galleries  were mounted in ornate, gilded frames, which are very beautiful themselves, but can sometimes distract from the artwork itself. I think I prefer the minimalistic modern display style, but I also feel pressured to over-appreciate works in galleries like that because there is such a powerful focus on each piece.

4. Installation Art: The Coral Reef exhibit, more than anything else, scared me. I was uneasy the entire time I was in the exhibit, and my reaction, even upon further contemplation, is a negative one. When I first entered the exhibit, I thought I’d accidently walked into a storage closet or a part of the museum that guests are not supposed to visit. It smelled like a damp basement, which reemphasized the unpolished atmosphere, and there was absolutely no indication of how to navigate through the exhibit. There were several dead ends to doors that looked like they should be in a horror film. I also didn’t know if I should open any of the doors in the exhibit because I thought there might be monsters behind them. The creepiest room, in my opinion, was the darkened room with television screens playing white noise and models of plastic ears of corn sitting next to them. I was too scared to even attempt to interpret this. I only discovered that the exhibit was a representation of myriad modern religions until I read the description after exiting the exhibit. This makes more sense, as the Islamic recruitment posters nailed to the wall of what looked like a garden shed in the exhibit make slightly more sense now. I did not like this exhibit at all, and I will not be returning.

5. Tate Britain vs. V&A: I definitely prefer the Victoria & Albert Museum to the Tate Britain Museum. There was something about Tate Britain as a whole that was off-putting to me. Once again, I find it hard to reconcile such diverse collections within one museum. I also think the Coral Reef exhibit was emotionally scarring, so that could be another reason that I didn't enjoy Tate Britain. I appreciated the V&A because they had diverse collection (Imperial Chinese Robes to Isotypes to Underground designs), yet there was a consistency between all of the galleries. I think Tate Britain was really lacking this. I felt that the two museums were comparable is their accessibility and ease of navigation, and I do appreciate Tate Britain for being a smaller museum, as large museums like the V&A can sometimes be overwhelming. Ultimately, I preferred the collection of the V&A to that of Tate Britain, and I knew what I was getting with the V&A--it is a traditional museum, whereas Tate Britain hasn't really figured out what it is.

6. Object of Appreciation: My favorite object at Tate Britain was a painting from the romantics exhibit. This exhibit in general was my favorite for multiple reasons. I loved the layout, the deep blue wall color, the gold frames, and of course the beautiful paintings, especially those by JMW Turner. The painting that spoke most directly to me was “War. The Exile and the Rock Limpet” by JMW Turner, dated 1842. First and foremost, I love this painting because the subject matter is Napoleon Bonaparte during his exile to the island of St. Helena. As a history major, Napoleon is my all-time favorite historical figure, so I am automatically drawn to any piece of art with his image. Aside from the subject matter, I love the bold, warm colors. Although the figure of Napoleon looks dejected and defeated, the rich color of the painting reflects his reign and his personality, at least to me. Of course, the red and black are symbols of the carnage of his wars across Europe, as well. It is hope and despair all in one, and I would love to return to this piece.