Times mistakes are good. Blond here had a ticket for Stanley Tucchi’s film ‘The Final Portrait’ with Geoffrey Rush, depicting the life of Giacometti. Happens to coincide with the exhibition at the Tate Modern. Sunday, sunday, sunday she had drilled in her head. Problem was, Sunday past and my entrance into a very empty cinema confirmed my dilly lack of detail. ‘Merde’ she hisses … but I am at the Tate Modern, to Giacometti I will go. Stream the movie later.
Sensory overload. Understanding contemporary art requires careful observation. Standing back, reflection and looking at the careful details of every aspect of what is presented to the viewer. Story telling in the art. Don’t rush, don’t rush. These are statements on politics, social interaction, the world perceived by those who strip the everyday to the core. Sometimes, I find myself looking at splotches (yes a bit like a child throwing paint on canvas) but then comes the question – does it make sense as a piece on it’s own, or more if we learn what the artist was trying to express? What are your thoughts?
Then, we come to the raindrop. The artist, mesmerised by the spiritual qualities of a raindrop, and how to transform in concrete terms … I stand and look, and look and in the looking … behind me a woman says in Afrikaans ‘lyk soon ‘n tiet’ – looks like a tit! Boob dangling from string – are you totally without I wonder, but laugh as she does to realise I understand the language. The art is decidedly lost on her and her partner, in fact a few minutes later I pass them again, her voicing the need to find an exit to all this nonsense. No, No and no again … And so it goes … should I smile, should I shudder … but that is contemporary art for you … each to his own I guess.
I, on the other hand, am inspired. I cannot do this, so I appreciate others who can. May not always understand, but try to, There is a reason these pieces have a place in this great gallery.
Aaah, ’twas a great afternoon. I live in a city where all the great works come together. The Tate, the Modern Tate and all the other galleries that offer me the chance to see the greats. Not too shabby she says as she takes the lift to the 10th floor. The viewing deck.
Standing up there, with a full 380 degree view, Art is everywhere. Ancient, modern, traditional, futuristic, it’s all for our pleasure.
I want more of Botticelli, Michelangelo, Titian, Pollack, Warhol and everyone else that paints, sculpts, draws and puts to paper, canvas and metal the world the way they see it, to enlighten, enchant and entertain me … for I learn.