Day 3

In contrast to the previous day, Day 3 was a little bit of a downer, but I think that mostly had to do with the fact that my laptop charger had burned out during the night. Finding that out in addition to the rain outside was an unhappy way to start things, so that affected my overall mood for the rest of the day.

The Serpentine Gallery was interesting, to say the least. I especially loved Philippe Parreno's Invisibleboy. It just seemed so inventive and one-of-a-kind, especially in how he shot and edited the film. The seemingly random footage he took are very beautiful, especially when it comes to the colors and the composition of the footage. Even the scratches he made in the film to create the imaginary creatures were so beautiful and interesting. The soundtrack just topped it off for me; something amazing always happens when an instrumental rock band incorporates authentic [or at least authentic sounding] strings into the mix. It was so dramatic and it really emphasized the narrative a lot, even though the base of the song is the same maybe 4 or 8 bars repeated over and over. The film had a lonely vibe to it, but it also seemed very hopeful and the imaginary creatures were oddly endearing.

Getting to the Saatchi gallery was no easy task, but when we finally got there, I was blown away by a lot of the work. Two that really stood out to me was Pile Up by Alexander Hoda and Richard Wilson's 20:50. I loved how Pile Up was so nightmarish and grotesque and I thought it was a very clever work. It seemed as though the blob that was the foundation of the piece was trying to make sense of what it was, and the figures protruding from it reference to its journey of self-discovery. Or maybe I'm just weird. 20:50 was just phenomenal and at first I didn't even know what I was looking at. When I realized it was motor oil reflecting everything I was taken aback and completely discombobulated.

Getting to the Globe Theatre was a lot more enjoyable than trying to get to the Saatchi because the path that led to it was very scenic and interesting. At first I wasn't too thrilled about the tour, but when the tour guide met up with us I got excited; he seemed like such a pleasant person. I definitely learned a thing or two, though I'm not sure how much I'd be able to repeat to my family. The architecture of the theatre was really unbelievable and the detail kind of blew me away, especially the astrological ceiling and the trap doors.

Altogether, Day 3 was awesome, despite the small unpleasantries that popped up every now and again.

Day 2

Today was pretty amazing; I really enjoyed the London Eye, visiting the Tate Modern, going to see War Horse...

The view of any city tends to be spectacular, but being so high above a city outside of America was a wonderful feeling for me. It gave me a clear idea of exactly how big London is and that in itself was an extraordinary thing to see. Being so close to Parliament was what excited me the most... It's such a beautiful, grand building and to be so high above it and see it in all its glory with the red tour buses driving by made me really happy. It was a very relaxing and, in my opinion, appropriate way to start the day. Even the walk to the Tate Modern afterwards was relaxing and a great way to start things off; I was especially amused by the sad Mickey we found on the way there as well as the word "Jim" that was griffitied onto a bridge we walked under. The tiny skate park we found got me extremely excited, especially since there was so much graffiti on the walls... In fact, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven at that point. It reminded me of Five Points [the building the 7 train passes right before entering into Manhattan or after getting out of the tunnel] and I felt a strange, happy homesickness, oddly enough.

Overall, my Tate Modern experience was probably the best museum experience I've ever had. I normally don't get excited about modern art, but there was something about the overall vibe of the museum that made me feel very happy to be there. We had lunch at the little cafe there, and that in itself was an experience; the food was so good! Pricey, but pretty good.

I think what impacted me the most was Ai Weiwei's "Sunflower Seeds" installation. After reading the story behind the installation, viewing the installation became an extremely overwhelming, emotional experience [of course, the music in the background played a huge part in the whole 'emotional' part.] I love how the work takes on so many different and contradicting themes [such as the brutality of the cultural revolution vs. the compassion of sharing sunflower seeds with friends, a unit vs. a group, etc], and how that in itself becomes a theme and kind of a purpose of the work.

I especially appreciate how each sunflower seed is hand crafted differently and uniquely so that each unit has its own individual essence, yet when they're all piled in together they look like they belong together and that they have a greater purpose than being unique, which is already a pretty great purpose in my opinion. I also loved being able to see the footprints in the sunflower seeds, which I can only guess belong to Ai himself.

Just thinking about the idea of units coming together to make a whole, thinking about how much time and care was put into this work, thinking about the social/political background to this work along with the music playing from the movie made me tear up a little bit.
The Gaugin exhibit didn't quite impress me. For the most part, I have a love-hate relationship with Impressionism and I certainly didn't love Gaugin's work. A few pieces stood out to me though, such as Clovis Asleep, which I thought was very beautiful and surreal. It depicted his daughter dreaming. I wondered if it was more invasive than anything else. Inside the Painter's House also stood out to me because of it's darker, gloomier overtone. I noticed that it was more subdued as well as accurate than his other paintings.

War Horse, being the final thing on the agenda, didn't get me as worked up as I think it could have, had the day been shorter. I was so tired by the time we got there, and by intermission I felt myself already succumbing to sleep, but, suffice to say, I DID enjoy the play. I thought it was so different from every other show I've ever seen; the mechanics were very impressive, and the way the different characters [including the animals] interacted with each other was a breath of fresh air. There was something very natural about the way the animals moved and sounded and how everyone interacted with one another. I did feel that the play dragged on a little towards the end, but happy endings are always nice, so I really shouldn't complain. What I enjoyed the most about the play was the soundtrack. The man that sang most of the songs had such a rich, unique voice and I especially loved it when he played the accordion, sang, and was accompanied by the violinist. The music was so beautiful that I stopped paying attention to the story whenever the duo came out to play.

I couldn't have asked for a better day; Day 2 for the win!

Day 1 blog-- Turner Prize exhibit

I wish I had more interesting things to say about the Turner Prize exhibition, but I was so tired that it was very difficult to get into it at first. I kind of breezed through Dexter Dalewood's room and stood in the Otilith Group room for a little while, but after feeling myself slowly succumb to sleep, I decided the best thing to do was to move on. It wasn't until I got to Angela Dela Cruz's room that I became interested. I found her work to be very human-like in appearance and arrangement and that definitely appealed to me. For example, the black piece on the floor made me think of someone feeling very defeated, very broken, and kind of abused-- something I'm sure everyone has or will feel at some point.

Susan Philipsz work struck me as well, for the same reasons mentioned in the previous post; how she uses sound and lyrics to transform a space and add depth to it.

I'm looking forward to the next trip to the Tate Britain, when I won't be falling asleep every other minute =]

Turner Prize

I honestly feel that the Turner Prize went to the right candidate this past year. In one of the last rooms of the exhibit, the text on the wall stated that the award was not given in order to immortalize an artist but to bring light to new developments in art... And since Susan Philipsz' work is unlike anything I've ever 'heard' before [and since she was the first sound installation artist to be nominated for the award], I believe I would definitely grant her the Turner Prize award. Being a musician most of my life, I like to explore how sound and music affects our world in different ways, and I think that Philipsz succeeds in her own exploration of the same thing. As I stood in the room in which Lowlands Away was playing, I felt a sense of loneliness, heaviness, and wistfulness floating in the room. I realized that the 'heaviness' and 'loneliness' was brought about by Philipsz' low and mellow voice and the echoes of her voice relayed the 'wistfulness'. Although the room felt heavy and full, there was still a sense of emptiness that the content of the lyrics brought about.

The text on the wall says that Philipsz was exploring how sound fills and forms a space, and I think that she is very successful in relaying and achieving exactly what she meant to.

Events...

Here are a few events I found interesting... Still a little unsure about prices and all that.

London Dungeon:

http://www.londononline.co.uk/articles/London_Dungeon/

The London Bridge Experience and London Tombs:

http://www.londononline.co.uk/events/2391/

Roald Dahl's Twisted Tales:

http://www.timeout.com/london/theatre/event/199433/roald-dahls-twisted-tales

Buried Alive!:

http://www.timeout.com/london/museums-attractions/event/211281/buried-alive