Sunday, April 17, 2011

The Wallace Collection


When I was five, I had a Chicago Bulls jersey with the number 23 on the back, but Michael Jordan’s last name was absent. When I was eight, I got another Bulls jersey, this time with Jordan’s name sewn on above his number. It was a much cooler, classier jersey. The Wallace Collection epitomizes high class. The rooms are elaborately decorated, the exterior of the museum mansion is beautiful and Victorian, so it is only fitting that the paintings have the names and titles of paintings engraved on the frames. While I usually think the painting should stand alone with text panels on the side (or like in the Saatchi Gallery far away from the paintings), for this collection it seemed rather fitting. The more expensive, ornate, and high-on-the-social-ladder this museum could look, it fulfilled that ideal. Engraved paintings made the whole work of art, from the painting to the frame to the wall to the entire room, a work of art.

I'll go with the famous one. The Swing is a fascinating painting which has this beautiful nature exterior and a Victorian feel to it, but the man in the bushes waiting for the woman to swing to him gives it a sensual and forbidden feel. It is almost reminescent of the Garden of Eden, with the temptation and the female as the one being pushed around. It is a painting that makes me smirk. 


Guns should not be this pretty. It makes little kids want them. In that regard, it's disgusting. However, it's cool and lavish. I wouldn't want to fire it because I'm very pro gun control, but I would love to hold it just to intimidate someone.


My favorite museum experience is split between the Design Museum and the Saatchi Galleries. The former had the incredible design awards exhibit which was incredibly fun to mull around. Also, it allowed me to understand the art of design more deeply. I have always had the thought of art being paint on canvas, but that museum most vividly changed my opinion. Automobile design, iPad app design, sex surface design: these are all works of art in varying degrees, and it was fascinating to appreciate these works on par with Van Gough’s sunflowers and Monet’s Lilly pads as they are all art. I loved my visit to the Saatchi gallery because the art challenged me more than any art I had seen in my life. I appreciate and love looking at Monet’s painting, loving being encapsulated in their beauty, but they have never made me think or philosophize about their message. Almost every piece in the Saatchi Gallery achieved this feat. The works were raw and unforgiving; the museum felt like an equivalent to a black comedy. Further, I loved the locations of both museums. After my visits, walking through Chelsea or along the river among the many wharfs was a perfect way to ponder the art I had seen and appreciate the art of the city.


My family has always been a museum family, so I was well versed in museums and art before this trip, but this class has made me think about not just the small components of the museum as art, but the entire museum as one piece of art. If a museum has a lack of focus when presenting itself, I am now critical. This extends from the gallery presentation to the façade of the buildings to the literature they pass out. If a museum cannot present itself well, what’s the point of going inside? And even further, museums must create a unique image for themselves. There are hundreds, if not thousands of art museums in the world, so why is this one special? When I was in Madrid, I think the Thessin museum answered this question but the Prado, the more famous one, did not. Unfortunately, the collection can speak for itself only to an extent, the museum must work to enhance the collection and itself. At the end of this class, I have become proudly critical of museums, but I think it will improve all my museum experiences from here on out.

Had I not been in this class, I would have gone into the National Gallery and the Tate Modern. That’s it. It’s not that I disliked museums, but I know I would have found excuses to avoid London’s wonderful museum scene. This class made me explore the other big museums as well as some smaller ones I would have never thought to go to (Design, Saatchi, Wallace). I am so happy I took this class because it would have been a waste if I hadn’t spent significant time exploring the museums in London.
















Monday, April 11, 2011

Design Museum


Best Architecture Design: 
Balancing Barn

I would hang out under my house every single day. I would have bbqs, keggers, maybe throw a pool. Anything. Its so incredible to look at, I would love to live in this place. 

Best Furniture Design:
Intimate Rider

This is for people with little or no lower body mobility to have sex more effectively. While it is technically a product, I would put this in my living room; two people on the bench, one on the chair. Maximum seating. It serves as furniture and a great product.

Best Transport Design:
EN-V Transport

We're close. We're real close.

Best Graphic Design:
Homemade is Best App

I thought the app was incredibly clear and simply. It was user-friendly which is the most important thing to do when designing an app. It made me want to buy it and learn how to cook.


I was fairly underwhelmed in the Wim Crouwel exhibit. I understand he is a very famous designer, and looking at certain posters I can tell he was a big influence on the way things are designed today. The phonebook sticks out to me as an important part of his collection and vision. It's a simple decision to make the phonebook lowercase, but it allows for more names on one page. It is a financially and environmentally effective design. However, I was bored looking at posters. I didn't see traces of other artists, but I accept the fact that I dont know enough about poster design to grasp the full effect. 



Saatchi Galleries


This museum certainly has a different feel than others, and part of that is the possibility for different sight lines of pieces. For example, some rooms have sculptures and paintings. Obviously sculptures are three dimensional and can be seen from many ways, but taking in the entire room as a piece of art, as a design, is very interesting with this hybrid setup. The piece that comes to mind is the Latin American burial wall. It took up the entire wall, about 20 feet high and at least 40 feet long. It was a massive piece. Looking at one specific grave is one sightline, looking at an area is another, and looking at the entire piece is another. And it took effort to see all the graves. There were ones at my feet and way above my head. A similar feeling was with the spam ads wall. It taught me to look at a piece both in a detailed way and in a large picture manner. 


I feel like it is an interesting approach to have small text templates away from the paintings. The tour guide spoke of it like it was ridding the painting of a predetermined message. While it may not be that extreme, I do realize that when I approach a piece, I immediately look at the artist, the date, and I read the description. Here, because I am lazy, I did not go all the way  to the other side of the room and I just studied the painting. To the tour guide's credit, I think she is right. I took much more away from the pieces making my own judgements before I found out the truth. Honestly, not knowing the name of the piece enhanced my experience with the paintings. 


I thought the material in the Saatchi Galleries was challenging, and I had never felt that way in a museum before (besides being challenged not to cry when in the Baseball Hall of Fame). I truly thought of the pieces as puzzles to understand. At times it was vulgar or maybe even juvenile, but I was attracted to these pieces. The oil room was incredible. I smelled it from down the hall, making it almost defy its own location as a piece of art. The spam ads were great. It was funny and a bit terrifying at the same time. I would have bought that one. But above all, the weirdest and funniest was... Penis Face:



Sunday, April 3, 2011

Street Art In London

I wanted to find really great street art, but in very posh areas like West Kensington and Notting Hill, it's nearly impossible. But here we go.


I think this is more vandalism than street art. I found it on the side of a restaurant on Kensington Church Street. Things like this don't give street art a good reputation. It just looks ugly and draws poor attention to the wall.


This was in front of Abbey Road Studios. Yea. On a wall filled with people signing their names and writing Beatles lyrics, this wonderful piece of work ruins everything. It's like Yoko. I was not happy when I saw this.



The sticker looking thing on the left is actually painted on, even though it looks like a sticker. I thought this was kind of cool. It has some profanity in it, but it is somewhat "defacing" an important city object. It was small but symbolic, especially being in a posh area.


On the wall next to a book store in Notting Hill. It is simple and fantastic. It doesnt even need to mean much, but its incredibly cool. 

Sunday, March 20, 2011

The Most Expensive Painting in the World


While I could compare myself to someone more literate like Rick Blaine stealing the heart of Ilsa, or more historical like John Dillinger stealing from banks, I'll settle on the commercial and the obvious: when I laid my eyes on "Nude, Green Leaves and Bust" I felt like Thomas Crown, art thief extraordinare. I wanted to take that painting, if not touch it. 

This painting holds the record as the most expensive painting ever auctioned off, totaling in at over $106 million US Dollars. While painting like the Mona Lisa and Monet's Japanese Bridge, even other Picasso's may come in at higher prices, they won't be auctioned off, mostly because they are valued as "priceless". Technically, this is the most expensive painting one could own. 

After the initial visit to the Tate Modern, I brought visiting friends there, specifically so I can see this painting on lease and recently put up on display in the Picasso room. Even if I hadn't seen the painting online before visiting, I would have known exactly which one it was, partly because of its primary location on display, having an entire wall to itself, but mostly because it was the most beautiful painting in the room. 

It isn't classic Picasso, if there is such a thing. It isn't definitive cubism like the other paintings in the room, but it does have hints of it, with various geometric shapes across the canvas. The contrast of the dark background colors with the light skinned woman is magnetic, causing my instant attention to the painting while entering the room. I love the fruit at the bottom and their odd emphasized creases with the color grey. They I noticed the woman's hair was blonde with grey highlights. Obviously she is fully blonde, but i thought it was interesting how that color was used to that effect.

I circumvented the painting many times, half admiring it, half planning my attack. How could i touch it without notice? I decided to plank the left exterior when the guard was talking to someone. At the point of attack, I became stuck when the conversation was short between the old lady and the guard. (Don't old ladies usually ask multi-part questions?) Quickly, I divert her attention to the creepy kid on the wall by pulling out my cell and punching some buttons. I cool into a relaxed position and remain unsuspecting. I come within inches, slowly maneuvering towards the gold-mine. All I want to know is what that much money feels like. It's beyond the beautiful piece of art now. I'm convinced I will gain knowledge just through the brush of flesh to paint.

I stop. What the hell am I thinking? I'd get tossed out, banned from the museum, the city, the EU. And I'd probably (and rightfully) flunk my class on museums. I dash out of the Picasso room quickly, but had a guard tail me for the next hour. A small price to pay. 

So was the painting worth that much money? Probably not. But I do like it. And still want to touch it. If not steal it. 

Sunday, March 13, 2011

National Portrait Gallery


The logo is incredibly fitting to this museum. Simple, in portrait style, and moderately boring. The only interesting thing here is the spacing between letters to maintain the width of the logo. Otherwise, it is much more text-like than a logo.

Photo 1- Shakespeare


This portrait is of me. It best represents me because I'm balding (I think), but mostly Shakespeare is my favorite writer. Also at the time of drawing, I had some gross facial hair. My hair is getting longer, however I don't think it will go down. Instead, it will go up like an afro.

Photo 2- Sir George Abbiss

This is a picture of Karl as a cop. Mostly because of the moustache. Also, I saw Karl wear a tie once. It all makes sense in my head.

Picture 3- King James II


This is a picture of Brian Fossum because he has blonde flowing locks too. And wears poorly drawn clothing.

Picture 4-King George IV


Matt Apel. He's powerful. Also he should wear a watch on his chest because he's late to everything.

Picture 5- Thomas Hope


Max Florian likes peacocking. He would carry a huge stick and wear half pants, kind of like capris. 


Sunday, February 20, 2011

The National Gallery


I don't think this qualifies as a logo, however the typeface is very interesting, with heightened serifs. I think the L's stand out with the angled serifs, and the R in Gallery has the extended serif, which gives it a very classy and posh feel. The museum is the most traditional of the museums we've visited, its a traditional art gallery, so I feel like not only the typeface, but the actual words are the logo to the museum. It is where to find classical art. The whole package symbolizes the museum more accurately than a logo or one picture can. I love the typeface and prefer this to anything else. 


I visited the Van Gogh museum in Amsterdam and I was blown away at the beauty of his work. I have always known Van Gogh is the pinnacle of art for 20th century influence, but I had only seen a few of his paintings in person. To be completely consumed by his work in the museum was riveting. His use of line developed. I always enjoy the short and thin line pictures, like the Sunflower picture, and how all these lines are essentially equal in everything minus color, and create this masterpiece. The Sunflower picture in particular, rising above its fame, is a source of happiness. Van Gogh had yellow represent happiness to him, and in this simple still life, I am certainly happy. At first glance, it looks like a seven year old drew this, its fairly juvenile, the lines aren't perfectly straight, but the different shades of yellow and gold draw a smile out from me every time. I've seen Starry Night and been blown away by its beauty (I think blues are stunning), so in my opinion, Van Gogh rightfully earns his place in art history.

I appreciated the wall panel design at the National Gallery. I haven't developed a solid opinion on whether I prefer blank walls or patterned or colored, but this enhanced my experience. I dont think my appreciation of the specific painting were increased, but when I walked into a new gallery, I think the ambiance of the room was incredible. I loved one room with blue wallpaper and few paintings over each other, so the whole wall was covered. The room itself looked like art.


When I visited the National Gallery in 2006, I bought a poster-painting of Monet's foggy London painting, and it has hung in my room ever since. I love looking at it, mostly because it reminds me of London and that trip and the museum. Obviously it doesn't capture the beauty of the actual piece, but it's still a fantastic piece of nostalgia. I'm honestly surprising myself by saying this, because at first thought, I hated that they'd try and recreate or sell knockoffs of the beautiful paintings. But thinking about my poster-painting from home, I really have to contradict myself. It is a fantastic souvenir that reminds someone of the beautiful painting and of the great trip to London. It's worth "profiteering" like that, solely because it brings me, and I assume others, happiness.


On the left is my piece of desire and on the right is my piece of appreciation. I love how later in his life, Monet essentially recreated the famous Japanese bridge in a more abstract sense, really using color to emphasize the water. If anything, the bridge is apart of nature, and looking at Monet's other water Lilly paintings, he certainly believes that whole area to be serene and all beautiful, so it makes sense that the bridge is part of its surroundings. The color emphasized here is turquoise, which is a nice blend of green and blue, or of land and water. This painting reminds me of Avatar, to be honest. The illuminating plant life and nature on Pandora is exotic and almost hallucinogenic. This painting reminds me of that. I also love how Monet hardly ever uses blue to paint water. It's full of pink and green and yellow, completely distorting the scene around the water. It's stunning. 

The more traditional but still very surreal Japanese Bridge painting is the one that belongs in my house. There will be a room with all white walls (or that blue wallpaper) and a chair for me to sit in and look at the painting. Always with Monet, I am fascinated with his water. I look up close to see what odd colors he included in the water, and then stand back to see it as one whole unit. The scene itself is a place I'd love to read a book or think, sitting on the grass looking at the bridge and the bank. I really hope to visit this area in France and just take it all in, like I'm in a Monet painting. 

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Tate Modern

I dont know why there is more than one logo. The blurring makes it recognizable, but the fact that it isn't consistent make me annoyed. This class has certainly made me more critical of museum presentation, and my advertising degree is teaching me about branding. No matter how similar the logos may be, they are contrasting and that is off putting in my opinion. However, I like the consistency of Modern in the upper right corner. 


Part of the reason I wanted to study abroad in London was the free museum admissions. While the term "cultural elite" has taken on a negative connotation lately, being cultured will never be a bad thing. I think many people in London are more cultured than those in America, or even in the bigger cities. Museums are both educational and historically important. More people should see art and history. I think London has it right; if more people in America were able to visit museums, they would be a bit more cultured and willing to engage in discussion. 


Why do they look like sunflower seeds? Why are they just sitting on the floor like that? Why are there so many? What's the point? How can this be art?

These are frequent questions I ask myself while in modern art museums. And this specific exhibit made me ask even more questions. I appreciate the sheer vastness of the piece, and the time put into each porcelain object must have been tedious, but I still don't get it. I think the fact that we could not stand on the seeds, like it was meant to be presented, did take away from the piece. If it was meant to be interactive art, but we were not allowed to interact, then the point diminishes. 

If the point of the piece was about individuality, I respect that. But again, we weren't able to see any pieces individually, only as a whole. If we were allowed on the seeds, then the one vs a group mentality may have been more emphasized. This was just a group.


To be honest, I think some color would add flavor to the galleries. Maybe the galleries with more three dimensional pieces should still have white walls, but white is a very ordinary color for art museums. Classical paintings seem to have you focus on the painting only, but modern art transcends the canvas, and a white wall is much more boring than one with a little color. Modern art is a feeling or an experience rather than just a picture, which sometimes classical paintings can be restricted to. As the Modern Art museum, The Tate can certainly do a better job modernizing their galleries. 


I think one of the coolest attributes of the museum is it's exterior. Modern does not mean the new, slick, technology driven world. Really, one could argue the modern world began with electricity, when people were no longer in the dark. The power station is a symbol of modernization. Again, it's not sleek, but it does not need to be. It feels like a warehouse. Architecturally, it separates itself from the classical and beautiful looking older buildings of London. It's from the manufacturing age, and I think it adds to the modern sense of the museum without being technology driven. Its certainly modern in relation to the age of the city of London.


My favorite piece in this museum was Metamorphosis of Narcissus by Salvador Dali from 1937. The absurdism, almost three dimensional feel of the piece is completely engaging. The chess board and weird rock shapes that may be legs and the pool and canyon all contrast each other so oddly, I would walk to see this painting again. An interesting observation: The sky doesn't really match on the two sides of the painting. For these observations, taking in the whole surreal atmosphere of Dali's vision, I would love to see this painting again. 





Sunday, February 6, 2011

Tate Britain


This logo does not seem to fit the feel of the museum. First of all, why are the two words in different fonts? I know the Tate is a chain of museums with a consistent "Tate" font, but the word "Britain" is unnecessarily standing out, especially because it is very clear compared to "Tate" which disintegrates and fades in and out. The two do not compliment each other at all. Further, the fading and disintegrating seem very modern if not scary. While the Coral Reef display may have fit that description, the rest of the museum has classical painting with classic displays. Even the building is classic and sits on the river Thames. The logo instills a creepy feeling but the museum has very little presence of that feeling. 


In the painting, a noticeably distressed Ophelia drowns in a brook surrounded by flowers and green. While she may be distressed and crazy, she is at peace with nature in this painting. In the play we saw at the National Theatre, Ophelia, while still crazy, is kidnapped and murdered by the Orwellian police force. She is never at peace in the play. It certainly contrasts with the message of the picture: a peaceful death. As another note, I don't remember seeing any green in the play at all. Everything was urban and completely detached from the natural world, as if they were locked up in this tower of a politically tensioned society. As I keep talking aloud, Egypt suddenly comes to mind to fit the production of Hamlet we saw. I guess Shakespeare is relevant even without being "modernized".


I want to murder this painting. Seriously, just take lighter fluid and douse this sucker. I have a love hate relationship with modern art; I love to hate it. And this painting nearly epitomizes my hatred. Its a brown canvas with a stupid rectangle that's three different colors. I can do that, but my art isn't in a stupid art museum. However, because of the odd style of painting, they need to be taken alone, almost isolated from other paintings. It certainly enhances the "effect" of the paintings, whatever the effect of this one may be. 


These types of painting, a more traditional type, are hung in groups because they compliment each other. While each painting is individual, its style matches with others around it. This painting by Thomas Gainsborough feels the same as the other paintings in the gallery. They aren't as utterly unique in subject and feel like the modern ones. This is why they can be hung gallery style.



I was a fan of the TV show Lost, and this exhibit reminded me of the hatch they found. Someone was surviving in there, and not just living, but surviving in an isolated state. The clown mask actually made me jump as I walked in. The whole exhibit kept me on my toes, and I kept figuring it to a haunted house, thinking someone was going to jump out and kill me. The lighting was dim or dark, which certainly added to the creepiness. The time I was most confused was in the last room where it was the "construction room", where they had all the materials used to make the exhibit. At first, I thought i had walked into a room I wasn't allowed to be in, especially because there was a guard in there. I couldn't understand what was happening, but showing the "process" didn't make it less real but only scarier. It was a "House of Wax" type exhibit. 

I am a more traditional museum visitor. I like paintings on walls and the occasional object gallery. Usually at museums in the States I'll skip over the rugs section, so in that respect, I enjoyed the Tate Britain more than the V&A. The Tate was a pretty perfect museum in my opinion. It was located right on the Thames with a beautiful view out every window. It had traditional pictures, modern art, and the craziest exhibit I've ever seen: The Coral Reefs. When I go to an Art Museum, the Tate Britain describes perfectly what I imagine an art museum to be.


My favorite panting was The Parting of Hero and Leander by Joseph Mallord William Turner from 1837. I was completely engulfed in this painting for about a half an hour. The contrast between the land and sea and sky were compelling. It was very interesting in the transitions between the three, as the colors gradually transformed into one, and there was rarely a defined ending to anything. The land area is interesting to look at, because this city is almost heavenly in the sky. Overall, I would love to look at other paintings and compare them to this one, but really just take another look at the complexity of color in this painting. 

Monday, January 31, 2011

Victoria and Albert (What the happy couple)


I believe this logo accurately captures the Victoria and Albert. The contrast between the thick and thin lines in the V and the ampersand. The serif's add an element of history and class to the logo which feels right because most of the artwork is historical rather than modern. If the museum was more full of modern exhibits, a font without serif's life helvetica would seem more appropriate. The consistency between the left branch of the V and the right branch of the A is very nice. In a way, the logo feels symmetrical, although it isn't. This symmetrical or patterned feel of the logo is reminiscent of the iron gates in the museum. Each had a distinct number of cells that were repeated, and the logo gives off the feeling of two cells where one has rotated and flipped over. It is a strong move to remind visitors of an exhibit while planning a logo, especially as this does it subtly rather than blatantly.


The cast courts were grand in every sense of the word. One large tomb was overshadowed by a larger tomb which was overshadowed by an archway which was overshadowed by the facade of a building. I felt like I was in Charles Foster Kane's storage unit in the end of Citizen Kane. Everything looked expensive and I was in awe. 
As for educational purposes, obviously the exhibit must be noted for its amazing detail, as plaster can capture those small details. Understanding the specific architecture is worth studying, however, that element was completely overshadowed by the grandness of the whole exhibit. I just wanted to stare at the big things rather than think. 


The isotype symbols certainly have more personality than the international symbols, but with more personality comes more detail, more to look at, and more to distinguish from other isotypes. The international symbols are simple only, but isotypes started the movement towards simplicity. What I was most impressed by was the use of graphs with isotypes. I found out that before isotypes, pictographs were uncommon. In this respect, isotypes took a very simple line or bar graph and made it more detailed while adding a new and understandable layer. So many maps, politically or geographically, that one sees on TV include graphics, or half graphics to represent half a quantity. Basically, coming up with the idea that a graphic can represent a quantity is genius, because I can see that Russia has more cheeseburgers than England, so therefor Russia has more of the cheeseburger fact I want to know about. Also, isotypes were clearly the inspiration for the international symbols, creating a movement that pushed away from only text, or text at all. It felt odd in the museum at first, but as a key inspiration to the international symbols which are everywhere, it certainly cemented it as a decorative art.

                             


These two patterns represent a more traditional cell versus a modern cell. The carpeting has bright colors, and each cell has a not-perfectly shaped football with a circle outside of it. The iron gate has a circle with an x inside and outside it. Obviously the iron gate is only black. Also, the carpeting has each cell repeating through the window of the other layer, as in they are off one to each other, while the iron gate repeats in a row and column perfectly. They seem different, but the sense of repeating cells, and in this case, circular cells, shows new inspiring old and artwork taking each other into account. It's almost as thought the two completely different types of art are speaking to each other.






 The London Underground has much more personality in the logo than Madison's Metro. For one, the underground tells people exactly what it is. It is a tunnel underground. The perfect O shape in the font is repeated as the logo as well. There is perfect contrast and simplicity to the logo, as it is also very recognizable. The color scheme works well together. I am a Chicago Cubs fan so nothing beats blue and red. The Madison Metro logo does not explain what it is like the tube. It is italicized with three different colors and white text. No where does it infer a transportation system like a picture of a bus. The London logo, while also not having a picture, allows one to infer that anything underground is probably transportation, and Metro does not necessarily mean transport.






The Madison Bus routes are very cluttered with geography. While this may be helpful to some, it distracts from the actual routes and how and where they intersect. No one is looking at a Madison map and specifically pointing at an area and saying, "I need to get there." Basically London's tube map forgets correct map scale but accurately shows how to get from one stop to another. London's whole transport system is much more thought out than Madison's.


This chandelier was my favorite piece in the museum. Unfortunately it didn't belong to any collection besides the lobby, but I stood and looked at it for a large amount of time and from many different angles. I also liked the Wisconsin connection from the artist. I marvel at the amount of preparation that went into planning this piece. Did the artist sketch every piece individually or improvise as he went along? I would certainly visit the V and A again just to get every detail and every angle of this beautiful work of art.