
An example of newish architecture coordinating with its surroundings, perhaps.
All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms;
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lin’d,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper’d pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well sav’d, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion;
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
Continuing my walk along the South Bank after seeing the Sugimoto exhibit at the Hayward Gallery, I came again to the Tate Modern with, for some reason, this quotation from the end of Voltaire’s Candide struck in lights on a frame at the back of a lawn where pigeons flatly rested. Uncanny.
This scene looked like it might have potential for the series Urban Tree Portrait but I couldn’t get the right distance and angle for the image I wanted.
In the last post, I discussed liminal spaces, a subject that we have been discussing in my Photography MFA class. Imagine my delight in finding the Limin restaurant! (Click either image below to see them both enlarged – you may have to click the post title first if you’re seeing this in an email).
I’ve often posted here before on weird, open spaces, often called liminal spaces, that are neither here nor there, in between, on the threshold of elsewhere. A related concept is Foucault’s heterotopia, which I’ve also explored in earlier posts. Here, a look at a concrete terrace outside the Hayward Gallery cafeteria, separating it from the Waterloo Bridge. Get ready – more are coming.
One more little joke before we leave Sugimoto and the Hayward. When you left the exhibit, you could go up the stairs to the cafeteria where a small theatre had been set up, screening a short video about his work on the Enoura Observatory in Japan. There was no one there when I entered, nor when I left. I couldn’t resist the opportunity to make my own homage to his theatre pictures by brightening the screen and adding a small glow and darkening the side windows.
I never knew about these metallic constructions of his. In the first image below I’ve centered and isolated the structure in black and white on its mirrored plinth, in the next I show a little more, including the reflection of a passerby and, in the final image I show the whole room with the object centred so as to cover the structure shown above (click on any of the smaller images to see them enlarged – clicking through to the web site first if you’re seeing this in an email).
It would be hard to overstate the scale and impressiveness of the Hiroshi Sugimoto survey now at the Hayward. My pictures of both the exhibit and the gallery will occupy these pages for the next few days. Click on any image below to enlarge them all (you may have to click the post-title above to get to the website first if you’re seeing this in email).
After the Tate Modern I made my way over to the Barbican Centre, expecting to see an exhibit of Simryn Gill photos adverted to me by the Saltoun Gallery. As it turned out, Gill was just a small part of a much larger exhibit on ecofeminism and its illustrious (photographic) history with works by Gauri Gill, Francesca Woodman, Simryn Gill, Fay Godwin and many others.
Couldn’t believe they had (the 1964 replica of) Duchamp’s famous urinal on display and I almost walked right past it. Also some suspended objets (below) that I don’t remember the story of.
Wall of Coloured Glass (part of the larger installation, Coal Sculpture with Wall of Coloured Glass, 1999). A Greek artist working in Rome in the arte povere school, Jannis Kounellis also produced the below.