As a lunch-time exercise in a workshop, I took this suggestive, close-up picture, abstracting it from its context, seen better to the left.
Whilst waiting to meet my wife for the train home, I was taken by the wavy reflections of the many passersby on the floor of the station whenever the sun shone in brightly through the skylight. Thus end the series of photographs from my London excursion 3 weeks ago in mid-October.
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.
A man was accepting donations in a hat for the large strings of bubbles he was producing.
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.
And, as always when I’m visiting a museum or gallery, I’m as interested in the space and the geometry as in the art exhibited (and finding some place for my reflection). Click any of the images below to see them full-size.
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 previous Friday’s visit to the Tate Modern and the Barbican Centre, I returned to London last Friday mainly to see the Sugimoto retrospective at the Hayward Gallery. Before entering, I saw this.
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.