On Saturday, I went to the Tate Modern with some friends. I didn't go into any of the special exhibits because I didn't want to pay for them, and I've never really even liked modern art, but this was wonderful. I promise, Melissa, it will totally live up to all of your expectations.
We found some great little chairs for viewing the artworks and carried them around with us. I know it's what they're meant for, but you look like such an asshole when you unfold a small seat in front of a painting and just plop yourself down for a few minutes, effectively blocking the access of everyone around you. It does make for great photos, though.
For me, the best part of the Museum was Jill Magid's exhibit, Authority to Remove, in which the artist documents and interprets her experiences after being commissioned by the Dutch Secret Service to create art for them. After spending months researching them and becoming vetted herself, Magid shows them the document/novel that she has written, Becoming Tarden, and it is returned to her with many of her thoughts, memories and feelings censored out. The Organization (as Magid refers to them) then suggested that she put the book on display under glass in a one-time-only art exhibit, effectively turning it into a sculpture piece, after which she would return it to them along with all of her rights to the document. This is that art exhibit.
Magid ripped the spine out of the book before displaying it, an act that demonstrates her compliance with their wishes and their disregard for the dignity and autonomy of her artwork. Only the Prologue and the Epilogue are available to read now, but you can read them online via the link above.
I found the entire exhibit poignant and thought-provoking, especially the way that it explored censorship and the way that the act of censoring something often serves to imbue it with more power and meaning than it would have had otherwise. If she hadn't been censored, Magid's artwork would have been far less interesting, and her awareness of this fact gives her works even more depth. As the subtitle of the exhibit says, "The secret itself is much more beautiful than its revelation."
Here's another nice piece from the exhibit that refers to the ability of one agent to reveal the identity of another:
Monday, October 19, 2009
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Outrageous Policies & Ridiculous Rules
Today marks the one-week anniversary of my arrival in London. I'm living in an intercollegiate residence hall, with students from various colleges in the University of London, not just LSE. We have breakfast and dinner available downstairs (but only from 8 am to 9 am and 6 pm to 7 pm). There are limits on the amount we can eat, and we don't have the luxury of eating both vegetables and salad -- we have to choose one. This morning I got into an argument with the cafeteria lady about whether or not I could have cereal.
We are encouraged to have guests over, at the low price of a pound and a half per night -- but they've got to be signed in before 11 pm. If you have a guest who isn't staying the night and you forget to sign them out before midnight, you get fined 10 pounds.
Every morning around 10 am, a jolly, non-English-speaking cleaning lady unlocks the door to my bedroom without knocking and empties my garbage can. We are forbidden from putting our garbage cans outside our doors, and the handbook informs us that "do not disturb signs will be ignored".
There appear to be no committees or forums for complaint or discussion. Remember 'taxation without representation'? Well, I don't think my hall does.
Today I went to the British Museum, which is free and holds all of the spoils of the centuries of British empire. I saw the Rosetta Stone, pieces of the Pantheon, and all sorts of mummies. English people don't seem to have any qualms about touching art and artifacts in museums -- I saw a child climbing a stone sarcophagus and a number of people leaning on statues as they posed for pictures or listened to a museum tour. It was horrifying.
In brighter news, I have a mailing address! Here it is:
Hughes-Parry Hall, Unit 1014
19-26 Cartwright Gardens
London, UK, WC1H 9EF
We are encouraged to have guests over, at the low price of a pound and a half per night -- but they've got to be signed in before 11 pm. If you have a guest who isn't staying the night and you forget to sign them out before midnight, you get fined 10 pounds.
Every morning around 10 am, a jolly, non-English-speaking cleaning lady unlocks the door to my bedroom without knocking and empties my garbage can. We are forbidden from putting our garbage cans outside our doors, and the handbook informs us that "do not disturb signs will be ignored".
There appear to be no committees or forums for complaint or discussion. Remember 'taxation without representation'? Well, I don't think my hall does.
Today I went to the British Museum, which is free and holds all of the spoils of the centuries of British empire. I saw the Rosetta Stone, pieces of the Pantheon, and all sorts of mummies. English people don't seem to have any qualms about touching art and artifacts in museums -- I saw a child climbing a stone sarcophagus and a number of people leaning on statues as they posed for pictures or listened to a museum tour. It was horrifying.
In brighter news, I have a mailing address! Here it is:
Hughes-Parry Hall, Unit 1014
19-26 Cartwright Gardens
London, UK, WC1H 9EF
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