The National Gallery

LOGO

The creation of a brand for The National Gallery is attempted through the use of one typeface. This solution is totally inadequate to represent such a large, impressive and not to mention colorful collection. There is a tenuous connection since a serif typeface is a sensible choice for this collection, as it consists of almost all classical art; however, choosing the most basic of serif fonts which has basically no personality implies that the objects housed within also have no personality. It really is just using a typeface in place of a logo or any real branding system. I would definitely support incorporating some sort of imagery with the text, and I like the idea of referencing the exterior of the building, or maybe the interior like the long, thin, domed hallways that dominate the inside of the museum. It would also be smart to create a clearer visual hierarchy with a lot more variety in scale instead of giving the perception that 'National' and 'Gallery' are of equal importance. I would consider a font like Garamond or Bodoni instead, still a traditional typeface but with a little more interest.

VAN GOGH

When I first read this question the night before the museum right away I was inclined to say Van Gogh paintings do not live up their position in art history, and I didn't think about it more until I saw his paintings in the National Gallery and realized it was just the rebel in me talking. I have seen my fair share of Van Goghs, I have gone through my "Van Gogh is my favorite painter" phase, and I have relegated him as one of those "oh this guy again, yeah he's alright but so ubiquitous," but this visit inspired a little Van Gogh revitalization for me. I think his paintings are quite breathtaking, and it seems like everything by Van Gogh I have seen has been a great work, not a characteristic I find true about many other artists. The painting Mother by a Cradle of 1887 is an interesting departure for him, the brushstrokes are very precise and there are none of his characteristic broad or swirling strokes nor are there defining lines that edge the shapes like in Van Gogh's Chair from just a year later, 1888. In that piece he makes great use of combining complimentary colors to heighten the visual contrast in the painting whereas in Mother by a Cradle the colors are straightforward and representational.

OBJECT OF DESIRE

 I finally developed an appreciation for Renaissance type art last year when I studied in Italy, and after my time in Italy I went to London and saw this painting in a sort of hidden room at the National Gallery and it blew me away. This is a painting by Raphael of St. Catherine from 1507. I know nothing about Christian saints or imagery but I like that this isn't a Virgin and Child painting or another famous religious scene so I don't necessarily have to only see religion when I look at it. I love that it is representative of Raphael inimitable style, the lush figure in the foreground with a nice idealistic country scene in the background. The colors are really lovely, there is a whole rainbow basically just with St. Catherine alone. The face is obviously a Raphael face, and the detailing all over and in the drapery is divine. I imagine my future home as a very eclectic place, probably and older structure but with modern and contemporary touches, as well as flourishes of boho and glamour. And I think this piece could be right at home, Catherine is sort of a diva in the painting in my opinion, like she is hitting her pose and finding her light (for her face) like Tyra Banks would say; and despite it's rather small size it packs a punch color-wise so it wouldn't go unnoticed even with busy things going on.

GALLERY / DISPLAY

Despite my rousing endorsement of white walls in museums in my entry about the Tate Modern I have to admit I really enjoyed the walls in the National Gallery. The colors can be really helpful with navigation; one that really stuck out to me were the smaller rooms of Scandinavian painters like Vermeer that were a butternut squash color, immediately upon seeing that color I could know I had been there. This color, while being helpful for orientation was a little distracting in all it's saturation, but I found most of the rest very unobtrusive. The very popular rooms with Velazquezes and Rubenses were medium hues of red and blue but the way they were not too saturated or were patterned damask just created a nice rich background for the intense shading of the paintings. I think it makes the museum setting a little more casual, like being in someone's house browsing the art, well in 1870 or something. This feeling makes it hard sometimes for me to focus on one piece at a time because my eyes wander freely around the room like the whole space is what I'm experiencing instead of specific paintings. I think it works for this setting, at least for me, because I'm not necessarily interested in looking at all these artworks, whereas in the Tate Modern the art is more my taste or what I want to look at so the different walls work in each situation.

EXPLOITATION / MERCHANDISING?

The extent museum merchandising has reached is laughable. I guess in theory I could support decorating your life with reproductions of van Gogh's Sunflowers, bring great art into your everyday life and all. But is that really where it belongs? I want to say no; seeing those great big piles of wares enveloped in sunflowers does diminish the original work especially when you see it all together in that in a soul-crushing tableau of bourgeoisie-ness. The only time I have ventured into museum goods has been to get a couple postcards and once while in Paris when I was 13 during my 'Monet is the shit' phase I got a t-shirt with a water lilies painting on it. It was far and away my favorite shirt until the painting started to flake off and crack and it looked really sad and a little diseased. Of course it wasn't just my favorite shirt because I loved Monet, it was because I thought wearing it made me look very sophisticated while eating fried chicken sandwiches in the cafeteria. This exemplifies how I feel about the extensive merchandising - it seems very status symbol-y to me, why do you need an umbrella of an art historical masterpiece, mostly to show your good taste it seems. There is also a fair amount of distortion in creating these products, repeating select parts of the painting or only showing select parts. I think postcards are acceptable because they usually show the whole piece, and they are clearly not trying to be the artwork they are just a small token to remember it by. They also coincide with my personal principles of not giving in to the often outlandish prices for these goods.

OBJECT OF APPRECIATION

My object of appreciation for the National Gallery is one of my favorite paintings of all time, Allegory with Venus and Cupid by the Florentine painter Bronzino done around 1545. I became familiar with the piece a year ago in an art history class and although I thought it was interesting I wasn't blown away. I stumbled upon the piece later that Spring during a visit to the National Gallery, and I was blown away. (I got two postcards after this visit: Allegory with Venus and Cupid by Bronzino and St. Catherine by Raphael) Something about it just really strikes me; there is a lot going on but Bronzino handles the scene with such care that it doesn't overwhelm you, and the soothing white of the nude figures are simultaneously the focus of the piece and a resting place for the eye. I love looking at this piece on a basic level for it's large size. I also enjoy the fascinating use of color, and that I am always seeing new things. The piece is sort of a mystery to critics because of all the possible connotations and the odd relationship between Venus and Cupid, and I like to just stand in front of the piece and marvel at Bronzino's skill and wonder what he was trying to say - if anything, or if he's just messing with us, in which case I appreciate his sense of humor. I came to the National Gallery in January and returned to where I first saw it, but it had been moved! Luckily I found it later, and it was in that same place this visit where hopefully it will stay because I know I will be back to visit it again, my truest object of appreciation yet.

Tate Modern

LOGO

I considered these questions pretty heavily in my last blog, and I said when I began to think critically about the Tate logo I wasn't convinced. I was thinking conventionally, that the images are too complex, or too difficult to reproduce or recognize with the variations. Thinking about it more I decided the designers arrived at a good solution given the challenge of uniting four various museums under one brand identity. The letters that make up TATE are such strong simple forms that they can handle the distortion of different blur effects or warping and still be legible. Also, the Tate has a reputation for being a cutting edge place, and the logo is meant to reflect this dynamic nature - there are actually only four variations in frequent use, three with a shifting emphasis or bulge, and one that is a consistent thin stroke weight with slight blurring around all the edges. I think the unconventionality of the mark does fit with the contemporary Tate collections; it speaks to a mysteriousness and uncertainty about the present and future for mankind and for art. It also suggests to me how we cannot define contemporary art like we make concrete definitions of the past. I don't find the multiple logos to be distracting, they are similar enough to all be recognizable as the Tate brand, but show how Tate is always evolving. I think the prestige Tate has allows them greater freedom with their logo, and they have sufficient resources to maintain it.

FREE ADMISSION

This will make me sound very cynical, but I'm not sure that having free museums makes a huge difference in who attends the museums in London. I think visiting museums will basically always be an activity for the middle class and above, because it is part of their cultural heritage regardless of nationality. When I walk around the Tate I feel like I see the same sort of people I would see in the U.S., regardless of entry fee. I think that people who are not exposed to museums when they are younger can become intimidated by them, seeing them as highbrow palaces that are not accessible to them. I also think that similar to in America the only time lower class people visit museums is often in grade school to high school and in this setting it becomes a more social activity, the field trip mentality takes over and probably not a whole lot of culture is absorbed. I guess I could assume that the zero cost of entering the museums means school groups visit them more, so perhaps the British youth are exposed to more museum culture, but I wonder if they continue these visits into adulthood, or if by that point they have gotten so sick of that experience that they are turned off by the thought of going to a museum. I certainly hope there is some positive impact coming from the free admission here, ideally it means people who could not afford to go to a museum or are put off by the cost would be more enticed to go, but as I explained I think there is a lot of rather complex sociology involved. Probably it is foreign tourists who are most enticed to go given the free admission. It does give London the feeling of being a very freewheeling and perhaps mildly communist city. In a more idealistic mind frame, I want to say people would be more likely to visit science museums and other exploratory museums, though art museums are still probably a little off-putting and not enticing.
 

AI WEIWEI

I really enjoyed this installation - though I have to admit that on the list of things I am a sucker for small porcelain things has to be one of them. I understand why people might criticize this installation for not necessarily utilizing the massive height in the Tate Modern to it's full potential, but I think you can also view this as a strength of the installation, the quiet restraint of this thick carpet of seeds and the vast breathing space given to the millions of pebbly bits. The seeds were just so inherently lovely to look at, it reminded me of letterpressed type in that both have such subtlety, history, and the presence of humanity/the human touch. I didn't mind that there was no interaction with this piece, I can see how that would improve the experience, but it would also cause a diminishing of the final product, even with it roped off there was a gum wrapper and a pen in the portion of seeds I first walked up to. The accompanying video also lends weight to the project - seeing all the people who were employed by the project, and seeing them while away their days painting sunflower seeds in this small town in China - but I cannot say the video fully supports the claims of the curator. Each piece is certainly part of the whole, i.e. the whole is greater than the sum of the parts, but that doesn't necessarily say anything about "the individual and the masses" to me. I mean yes we all start as seeds in our mothers, and Weiwei says sunflowers represented the Chinese people, so I guess the connection is there but I don't see it. I also don't see it as answering either of the questions you pose, I think the work operates mostly on a surface level as an aesthetic experience, and not as a work inciting much dialogue.

DISPLAY

I have to stand behind the use of white walls when displaying modern art. I will concede that other neutral colors, by this I mean black and some grays, could also be effective. I realize that all that white can feel too intense for some people, or that the austerity can be rather draining, but there is a reason for all the white - it just provides the best background to focus on the art, make it shine and make it pop off the wall. Colors would be fun in the galleries, but surrounding an artwork with any color is going to have an effect on our perception of the colors in the art, especially with the minimal or no framing of modern art; in period galleries colored walls are acceptable because the massive frames protect the art from possible visual confusion created by the walls. I think Tate's efforts to bring visual interest into the spaces between displays with color and text are helpful but they could definitely do more. They also use bright vinyl letters at the very entrance of each wing - hot pink, lime, etc. - but I think they could push both these practices further as well. They could also consider inserting smaller point of entry walls (without art on them) within the wings that are in a color or texture, or introduce some other sort of visual break to alleviate the stress of being so surrounded by white. I think what Tate has is sufficient - if they want the whole museum to run together - but I would support some "pulses" to break the monotony of room after white room, to distinguish different styles/periods, hold visitors interest better, and help visitors orient themselves.


POWER STATION TO ART MUSEUM
 
The exterior of the Tate modern is, objectively, pretty ugly. It looks to me like a fusion of a prison and a lighthouse or something, but I can also see how it makes perfect sense and even looks like it was designed for this purpose by a postmodern architect. The Tate Modern looks really timeless to me, like it could have been built a few years ago by some sort of sadist or built 50 years ago by that sadist's grandfather. So as you can tell I find the exterior a bit frightening, but almost comically so like Andre the Giant - if he were a museum. The two added floors of glass at the top are a wonderful gesture, I think, connecting the Tate Modern to the current language of museums, and also function as a unique place to publicize the special exhibits. And certainly it is a great space size-wise, and I appreciate the re-purposing of another building, once again bringing to mind postmodernism with this recycling or referencing of the past. The exterior for me is what makes this museum a one-off, it's not another glass and metal sculpted museum a la Gehry. It's an edgy sort of building to use, we always associate re-purposed industrial buildings with unconventionality today, this makes a connection to unconventionality in art and by extension this special collection. The individuality diminishes inside I think, the main hall brings in some of the exterior's personality but the atrium could be more emphasized on the higher floors. I think the galleries are indistinct and could be basically anywhere, though given my support of white walls I suppose most all museum galleries could be anywhere…
 

OBJECT OF APPRECIATION

I took pictures of several possibilities for my object of appreciation from the Tate Modern; reflecting on them in my iPhoto library I kept returning to one of the Gerhard Richter paintings from the Cage series of 2006. I first became aware of Richter when I saw an exhibit in Florence that displayed the gamut of his work from the photo-realist perfection to the purely abstract. I think Richter's artistic development is pretty fascinating, the photo-realist paintings I saw were lovely and it amazes me that one person could do such drastically different things both so well. The large canvases of the Cage series are so overpowering I thought it was fun being surrounded by them and standing at the base of one and letting it tower over me. I think all the paintings were pretty successful but my favorite was on the wall opposite the room entrance. In that piece there was more contrast of color with very light patches towards the top, dark black striations in the middle, and lively yellow-greens throughout. 

Tate Britain

LOGO

When I began to think critically about the Tate logo(s) I wasn't convinced. I was thinking conventionally, that the image is too complex, or too difficult to recognize or reproduce. Thinking about it more I think the designers arrived at a good solution given the challenge of uniting four various museums under one brand identity. The letters that make up TATE are such strong simple forms that they can handle the distortion of different blur effects or warping and still be legible. Also, the Tate has a reputation for being a cutting edge place, and the logo is meant to reflect this dynamic nature - although from what I can tell there are actually only four variations in frequent use, three with a shifting emphasis, and one that is a consistent thin stroke weight. I think the unconventionality of the mark does fit with the more contemporary collections. One could argue it also relates to the older works in that artists like Turner - who is heavily featured - were also pushing the envelope in their time. Thinking about if the galleries relate to the logo I remember what Steven said about the Tate Britain maintaining complete control over the lighting, and a possible connection between the perfectly diffused light and the diffusing logo. The interior is very simplified compared to the exterior, which has nothing to do with the logo as far as I can tell, although both feel very solid to me. In conclusion, I think the prestige Tate has allows them greater freedom with their logo, and they have sufficient resources to maintain it.

A beautifully empty gallery

OPHELIA

Honestly, I still am not clear on the circumstances of Ophelia's death in the production of Hamlet at the National Theatre. But let's say I do understand, and I understand it as she was going mental and her father arranged for her to be "taken care of" as we say, aka dragged off and killed by the men in suits. This interpretation greatly contradicts the idea put forth by Millais, and by Gertrude in the play - who is told that Ophelia drowned by accident, but also hints at Ophelia's lack of will to live. This lack of will is the dominant quality of Ophelia by Millais in my opinion; that is presuming she is alive, a point I am conflicted about. For me there is some confusion about precisely when this moment is happening, it could be just after she has fallen in, and has not begun to sink, or I could see it as post-mortem, and Ophelia has floated back up to the surface and is just drifting along, expressionless. At the same time I feel like I can see the breath in her chest and throat and some cognizance is her eyes. This personal reflection alone I think already shows there is much more development here, more facets to appreciate; I found the representation in the staging of Hamlet too brief and quite passionless, we saw Ophelia go a little bit mad and then she is just taken away, we never see the true height of her ruin, mental or otherwise… 

Dead or Alive?

DISPLAY

The style of hanging art to be displayed is not something I ever really considered. Museums always seem to hang their art in a manner that is appropriate considering the style of art and the location so I had no reason to reflect. We generally hang modern art in large white rooms with plenty of space between pieces, as opposed to historical art which is sometimes hung to replicate how it would have been in that period, many pieces, all crammed together with large ornate frames. Sometimes historical works are not hung salon style, perhaps that is more common in museums like the MET where all the works are masterworks and should be seen. With salon style hanging I find it hard to see some of the pieces and also that the close proximity makes it hard to concentrate on one piece and not have the surrounding works creep into sight. But it is all the attitude of the period; in the past there was a desire to be overwhelmed by art and pattern and visual interest, and I think there is value in recreating this experience to see the art the way it would have been seen in it's day. So the style in gallery 9 also makes sense for it's period, that is the way we have displayed the art of the past century. Such minimal works would make no sense in baroque gold frames nor in modern frames most of the time, and without the edge definition created by a frame greater distance is necessary between each piece to distinguish them.

INSTALLATION ART

I really enjoyed my experience in Coral Reef; it was exactly what I would want a haunted house to be, slightly creepy but without moving/living things popping out at you. I don't know if the installation was supposed to be taken very seriously but I approached it with a sense of humor. It actually reminded me very much of my amateur attempt at installation in the 3D foundation class at UW; for the project I took over a small empty room in Sterling Hall while the building was desolate and undergoing renovation and set it up to look like someone was still working there doing experiments in the 70's or something. I didn't have the same finesse as Nelson surely, I really enjoyed how authentic he made the spaces feel - the musty basement smell and overall dirtiness and dustiness. I like the idea of sensing the former presence of a person, without any people actually present, and the idea of uncovering their activities but - like in Coral Reef - not being able to fully comprehend what went on. The installation is definitely mysterious, when I came out someone mentioned layers of religions going on and my response was "oh, is that what the point was? I could see that I guess." Apparently this installation was first done in 2001 earning Nelson a Turner Prize nomination, and I have to wonder if it was more relevant at that time, but that might just be my desire to move past the Islamic issue in art. Coral Reef gave me a post-modern feeling, a genre I have trouble accepting as art sometimes, so is this art? I'm not sure, but I think the skill Nelson has in creating this complex environment that is so easy to get lost in gives me greater confidence to call it art.  
 

My crap installation (but there's a fan!)

TATE BRITAIN VERSUS V&A


Thinking about experience alone I prefer the Tate Britain. This might be because I had been to the V&A before, so the Tate Britain felt fresher, but I also highly value getting off the beaten path, and the idea of a smaller more carefully selected museum. I'm not saying the V&A is necessarily showing everything they have, but they have more space, and a smaller museum makes more sense to me - visitors can see everything, and not feel overwhelmed. The Tate Britain is also more out of the way in Pimlico and I enjoyed going to an area I had never experienced before. I thought the Tate was very well displayed and each piece felt considered. The V&A has the challenge of having lots of smaller objects that could not be displayed without a case, nor would it make sense to display each piece individually, and as I have already mentioned my preference is to see each object one at a time. The V&A also seemed to be mostly very large rooms, another quality I find overwhelming, sometimes I don't know where to start, and it can be exhausting to work through a whole room that size so I start to move more quickly just glancing at pieces. At the Tate Britain I could walk into a room and spend a moment on every piece and a few rooms like that leaves me with a greater impression than a large room of equal area that I breeze through. I did find the V&A easier to navigate, surprising because of the size difference, but this might have been because of disruptions at the Tate Britain, like closed or empty galleries. My final consideration is that while I definitely love the decorative arts, I have to say I prefer them as the side dish to my main course which has to be works on canvas and paper.

OBJECT OF APPRECIATION

For my object of appreciation I am torn between several pieces - the John Singer Sargent Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose, the prints of Barry Flanagan and the prints of Lucian Freud. My selection has to be Freud's 1 from 1996. What I enjoy most about this piece is that I feel a certain personal connection with Freud's work, when I work as a fine artist I enjoy doing work that usually centers on people depicted in a stylized way, which is the same thing Freud does, he also has a unique line quality, another thing common in my work. So maybe it is narcissistic to say those are reasons why I appreciate this work, and his others as well, but they just appeal to me, also because this piece is an etching, a medium I often find irresistible. When I work with the figure I make pretty simplified versions on images, Freud's have much more fine detail, which is a quality I would like to explore and he handles it very well. The panel about Freud in the museum suggests that his works portray "the act of looking" as much as they portray a certain individual. I think this is an interesting achievement and I would like to look at the pieces more to look for that and for the "sense of the uncanny or an air of anxiety and apprehension."