Juxtaposition
After several days in which the main activity has been simply walking around London, I have noticed that the only way to characterize the city is by pointing out the juxtapositions.
Ancient and Modern stand side by side, on top and within one another. Groups of people from worlds apart inhabit their own neighbourhoods, and the contrast of moving through one neighbourhood to the next is startling… Turn the corner and all of a sudden you are in arabia, with men smoking flavoured hookas on resturant patios which spill out onto the sidewalks. The next corner is venice, with a canal and people living in boats there all year round.
Yesterday was full of activity, which was very satisfying. We walked up Oxford street, which is consumerism central. Then through Soho, with it’s sex shops and record stores. Then past the Embankment, Houses of Parliment, Trafalgar Square. Across the river, along the south bank, and into the land of art museums and galleries.
The tate was interesting, to say the least. We looked at buying tickets to see the Picasso/Matisse display, but the earliest they would let you in was two hours from when we got there, so we decided to just see the free displays. I would say that the highlight of the trip was a piece called “Oak Tree” by Michael Craig-Martin. There was a plaque with an interview of the artist, which I discovered later was written in its entirety by the artist. (!?)
This piece sort of summed up the whole “modern art experience” for me. What something IS, and what everyone in the artworld THINKS it is are two different things. The interesting part is how the artist and the critics and appreciators get to their unique perspectives. In the interview, Craig-Martin says “did it take you long to make this artwork?” “not really, but it took me a long time to realize that I could do it.” We define our reality by assigning meaning to things, and many of us never realize the freedom (and the inherent danger) we face in creating our own reality. The danger lies in seeing water glasses as oak trees, and then forgetting to drink the water.
In the evening, we went out to a club called “Pickle”. It was familiar in many ways, and yet still different. Lots of things that seem to have dissapeared from Edmonton clubs, like glowsticks and girls dressed in tigerprint funfur bikini tops, miniskirts, and flared leg warmers spinning poi were still popular here. Music ranged from very good to very cheesy and somewhat poor, although it was most consistently somewhere in the middle. I have no idea who was playing, but there was some nice psychedelic-y trance being played for a while which I enjoyed the most. the hard trance/NRG room was packed all night. The venue was cool: it was built underneath the train, so all the rooms had round ceilings made of corrugated metal. In any case, it was fun to get out and dance at a club where you don’t know anybody but the people you came with. And it was a bonus to find that people smiled back when you smiled at them.
