I feel compelled to describe Buckingham Palace, but before I do so, let’s be honest: There are more awe-inspiring Palaces. Not to jump ahead, but when you look at the Grandeur of the Louvre or the ruins of the Villa Adriana, you can’t help but look at Buckingham Palace and think “This is it?”
Granted Americans have no room to talk.
The White House: tiny, cramped, and expensive.
It leads one to think: What is the measure of a Ruler’s residence?
This may be bad paraphrasing but I recall that Frederick Jackson Turner once hypothesized that the Untied States would never truly have great Federal Buildings because the legacy of free people cannot be found in the impressiveness of their architecture, but rather in the way that everyday people have been treated and valued. This means basically: “Sorry Guys. No forced-labor Pyramids for you. You just get a fair wage and natural beauty.” To which all tyrants say “lame.”
So no, Buckingham Palace is not that impressive. But the Palace of Versailles is and we all know how that turned out.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ls6HiYVkt0M&feature=related
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
London Part II. Birds and Serpents
Waking up the first time in a new city is almost as disorienting as walking around in one. I find frequently that dreams are stronger and more vivid. Maybe it’s because traveling long distances forces you to confront the distance of your origin. Maybe it’s because I eat a lot of Indian food late at night. Who knows.
The night before we had drinks with an old roommate from college who also happened to be in London. Just like in college, liquor somehow found a way for me to miss deadlines. So, a little later than expected, we started the walk to the two big churches in London: Westminster Abbey and St. Paul’s Cathedral.
Westminster Abbey
Having arrived in England about a month after the wedding ceremony between Kate Middleton and Prince William and am happy to report there were no shortages of nuptial memorabilia around the historic structure. Now, I love love, but truly, madly, deeply love spectacle. And am therefore not at all disgusted that the faces of the newlyweds have been plastered on everything from T-shirts to Tea Towels. Even though, I remember being in Baltimore the day of the actual ceremony and thinking “Didn’t we have a Revolution for the specific purpose of not having to hear about Royal Weddings?” While not a historian, I’m about 99% sure the Boston Tea Party was a reaction to rumors of the Prince Regent popping the question.
Onto for the building itself
To be honest, a lot of the hub-bub that surrounds Westminster Abbey has to do more with who is buried there (Oscar Wilde, Geoffrey Chaucer, Anne of Cleaves, etc.) than the architecture. It is marvelous, that’s not a question: the scale is epic, the detailing refined and the emotive response awe-inspiring but as far as a remarkable bit of architecture, it gets out shined easily by its own celebrity: A victim of spin.
The Palace at Westminster and Big Ben
Big Ben, as it turns out, is not a Paul Bunyon-esque Giant. (So bringing my giant griddle-cake butter skates was for nothing).
Though Big Ben is the most dominant feature in the Palace Parti, it was not added until long after the Palace at Westminster had been established. The site can date back to c. 1016-1035 when it was used by Cnut the Great. (And NO it’s not an anagram for anything, you horrible people). The site, like many others in Europe was burned, beaten and built-up until it became what we see today, which is actually considered “Neo-Gothic” which is ironic as the basis of much of the building is “Actual, Like, For Real Gothic”.
The Clock was added in the reign of Victoria and it serves as a testament not only to the goals of her reign, (expansion, commerce and propriety) but also as a memoriam to the Victorian revisionist treatment of history and English culture. Big Ben seems to yell: “We were Glorious. And still are...also nobody in the past ever did anything wrong… ever…also, no one has ever been, or will ever be gay…EVER. Love, VR”
Moving all the way across town we make our way towards St. Paul’s.
The night before we had drinks with an old roommate from college who also happened to be in London. Just like in college, liquor somehow found a way for me to miss deadlines. So, a little later than expected, we started the walk to the two big churches in London: Westminster Abbey and St. Paul’s Cathedral.
Westminster Abbey
Having arrived in England about a month after the wedding ceremony between Kate Middleton and Prince William and am happy to report there were no shortages of nuptial memorabilia around the historic structure. Now, I love love, but truly, madly, deeply love spectacle. And am therefore not at all disgusted that the faces of the newlyweds have been plastered on everything from T-shirts to Tea Towels. Even though, I remember being in Baltimore the day of the actual ceremony and thinking “Didn’t we have a Revolution for the specific purpose of not having to hear about Royal Weddings?” While not a historian, I’m about 99% sure the Boston Tea Party was a reaction to rumors of the Prince Regent popping the question.
Onto for the building itself
To be honest, a lot of the hub-bub that surrounds Westminster Abbey has to do more with who is buried there (Oscar Wilde, Geoffrey Chaucer, Anne of Cleaves, etc.) than the architecture. It is marvelous, that’s not a question: the scale is epic, the detailing refined and the emotive response awe-inspiring but as far as a remarkable bit of architecture, it gets out shined easily by its own celebrity: A victim of spin.
The most interesting part of the building is a rock that is passed unceremoniously thousands of times a day. The rock is a mile-marker for a Roman road, tracing the lineage of the site almost 2000 years. Yet, there it is, sitting in the open air, a testament to humility. This rock allows the Abbey to be seen in another light, not just a place where weird hats get worn.
When you think about Westminster not as a building but as a physical record of the history of England , the importance of the material seems almost trivial. This building has seen it all, from Londinium roots, through the middle ages, onto the break from the Catholic Church and further still to the funeral of Diana Spencer. This structure has been created to house the events of a unified people, a backdrop to what has happened and what may happen next. Westminster Abbey is not the star of the show, it’s only a set.
Also, it costs 16 Pounds to get in. Seriously Guys, that’s like 30 bucks. Come on!
We can’t speak about Westminster Abbey without also mentioning its noisy neighbors....
When you think about Westminster not as a building but as a physical record of the history of England , the importance of the material seems almost trivial. This building has seen it all, from Londinium roots, through the middle ages, onto the break from the Catholic Church and further still to the funeral of Diana Spencer. This structure has been created to house the events of a unified people, a backdrop to what has happened and what may happen next. Westminster Abbey is not the star of the show, it’s only a set.
Also, it costs 16 Pounds to get in. Seriously Guys, that’s like 30 bucks. Come on!
We can’t speak about Westminster Abbey without also mentioning its noisy neighbors....
The Palace at Westminster and Big Ben
Big Ben, as it turns out, is not a Paul Bunyon-esque Giant. (So bringing my giant griddle-cake butter skates was for nothing).
Though Big Ben is the most dominant feature in the Palace Parti, it was not added until long after the Palace at Westminster had been established. The site can date back to c. 1016-1035 when it was used by Cnut the Great. (And NO it’s not an anagram for anything, you horrible people). The site, like many others in Europe was burned, beaten and built-up until it became what we see today, which is actually considered “Neo-Gothic” which is ironic as the basis of much of the building is “Actual, Like, For Real Gothic”.
The Clock was added in the reign of Victoria and it serves as a testament not only to the goals of her reign, (expansion, commerce and propriety) but also as a memoriam to the Victorian revisionist treatment of history and English culture. Big Ben seems to yell: “We were Glorious. And still are...also nobody in the past ever did anything wrong… ever…also, no one has ever been, or will ever be gay…EVER. Love, VR”
Moving all the way across town we make our way towards St. Paul’s.
St. Paul’s Cathedral
You might remember St. Paul’s as the setting for a creepy-ass song about birds from a well known and delightful children’s movie.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XHrRxQVUFN4
People love this song. Whatever. Guess what’s better? Dancing Penguins and Horse Racing, this was also in the movie. (I’m indifferent towards tea parties on ceilings)
Like Westminster Abbey, St. Paul’s Cathedral has a long and sordid history, along with more than its share of fire. Tracing its lineage back to pre-Norman roots, this was a standard story of Built, Beloved, Burned, Rebuilt, Revered, Razed, and so on (oh but let’s not forget the dissolution of the Church under Henry VIII, because this is, after all a Cathedral). All this architectural uncertainty ended in 1667 when it fell upon Christopher Wren to come up with its next incarnation. The previous embodiment had been influenced about 40 years earlier by Inigo Jones, who is generally thought to be England’s first “classical” architect.
In 1666 the entirety of London Burned to the ground and a huge upcrop of building took place. Wren actually had the foresight to come up with schemes to completely redesign the urban landscape of London. Why not? Rome had done the exact same thing a few decades earlier to make Churches easier to access for Pilgrims entering the city. It had done wonders for their economy (Those crafty Popes).
Unfortunately his design was dismissed in favor of replacing what already existed, the Cathedral was still workable, so suspicion remains that the powers that be decided to throw it in as a consolation prize.
Wren decided to pull a DJ mash-up and combined Greco-Roman, Gothic and Renaissance into one enormous structure. With all of these factors at play it’s to be believed that Wren was much more concerned about it as a famous poem implies:
Sir Christopher Wren
Went to dine with some men
He said, "If anyone calls,
Say I'm designing Saint Paul's."
-Edmund Clerihew Bently
Whether you love it or hate it (and there are people who do both) one thing that cannot be avoided is the sheer scale of the structure. It stands on the hill top near the Tate Modern: all-consuming, tall, romantic and slightly overbearing, like a Bronte figure. There is a poetic kind of closure that St. Paul’s has, a silver kind of sadness that hums seamlessly with the constant drone of the city. It’s also pretty hard not to like it when you know it survived the Blitz.
Plus the views from the top are phenomenal.
http://static.panoramio.com/photos/original/3637082.jpg
Speaking of views, let’s not forget our last stop in London, The Serpentine Gallery, located in Kensington Gardens.
The Serpentine Gallery
The actual gallery is nothing really to write home about. However, like many small packages it’s what inside that counts. Or at least that’s the case usually.
When I got there, the exhibit was one called “See, We Assemble” which I am sorry to say was just awful. According to the artist’s statement, his intent was to “explore the potential of the human imagination to appropriate and to animate a concept, an object or an environment. Drawing on his personal experiences, [Mark] Leckey returns frequently to the themes of desire and transformation.”
Wait a second.
You mean I have to go into a green screen room with a fridge in it, and the instruction video for said fridge playing stupidly loud on super slow and tell YOU what it means. Call it what you want, but I call it lazy.
Fortunately The Serpentine can back up its street cred in the world of Architecture without question. Since 2000, The Serpentine has had a world-class architect design a pavilion every year. The cast is as follows:
2000: Zaha Hadid
2001: Daniel Libeskind
2002: Toyo Ito
2003: Oscar Niemeyer
2005: Álvaro Siza and Eduardo Souto de Moura
2006: Rem Koolhaas with Cecil Balmond and Arup
2007 pre-pavilion 'Lilias': Zaha Hadid and Patrik Schumacher
2007: Olafur Eliasson, Cecil Balmond, and Kjetil Thorsen
2008: Frank Gehry
2009: SANAA
2010: Jean Nouvel
2011: Peter Zumthor
The Serpentine Pavilion Challenge is a chance for these architects to make the impossible possible for 4 months out of the year. With such a small scale, structure is only a minor concern and the scheme is everything. There are too many to go through each individually, but I highly recommend checking out the website:
http://www.serpentinegallery.org/architecture/
The aesthetics range from something vaguely reminiscent of a stewardess (Lilias) to the firm and patriotic countenance of a Royal Marine (Nouvel).
On the way back a Swan in Hyde Park and I had some words over a sandwich (THAT HE DID’NT EVEN PAY FOR). My sister and I had a drink and we plotted our Southern Escape.
Next Episode: How to Say “Bonjour” and other helpful French Phases.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Art, Architecture, Beer, Wine, Cheese then more Wine: Retly Corm Hits Europe
Recently I discovered that I don’t necessarily have to be successful to travel well, I just need to be friends with people who are successful. This was the case last month, when my older sister (a junior CEO for a major multinational corporation) invited me on her business trip. To give our discoveries context, I feel it is necessary to give a little bit of background: it will surprise no one that I have always been a little jealous of my traveling companion.
Growing up, I was always pale, filled with angst, odd and desperate for approval. While she, at least to me, was tan, blonde, popular and envied no one.
This is the woman whom I one time asked the rhetorical question of :
“Man, I looked so good this morning and now I look crazy frumpy, does that ever happen to you?”
“No.”
Then a long pause
“I’m really pretty; those kinds of things just don’t happen to me”
Because of our clear differences we were often put into categories; Artistic and Misunderstood vs. Bubbly and Manipulative. Basically Jane Eyre vs. Emma Woodhouse.
I know I deserved no such credit, nor she such censure. Between the two, she has always been the smarter one and though we continually butted heads in our adolescence, we actually became good friends as we grew older. I became more confident and less dependant on others, while she became more sympathetic and understanding of faults. Eventually we decided not to force each other to be what the other one wanted. I was never going to be accepted by the Field Hockey Team and she was never going to care about the Battle of Thermopolis.
Keep that in mind when I force her to join me, on not one, but TWO modern art museums even though she hates them. She didn't even complain once. Long story short: she's pretty cool.
So let’s get down to it, shall we?
London: Part I Lone Ranger in a Strange Land.
Arriving at 7:00 am on Thursday after the world’s longest flight, I made the decision that should I ever have enough power to institute it, I am banning babies from international red-eye flights. I’m not sure what tragedy that baby had seen in its short life, but it was making it well known. Verbally. For 5 hours.
Perhaps it was the symptoms of exhaustion and disorientation that made the city of London seem so much more magical that morning. The sun was shining with a kind of pleasant indifference, the kind that beautiful people have, and I headed from our hotel along Hyde Park straight to the National Galleries.
Visiting an art museum is something that is usually best done after going Rogue. An art museum is a kind of secular cathedral; you need to be one with the greater forces at work. Such was the case here. Some of the highlights include:
Hogarths’ “Marriage A La Mode” which depicts the unfortunate and arranged marriage and acts as biting social commentary. I’ve mentioned Hogarth before on the Blog (While I was in Scotland) but just in case you’re not familiar with Hogarth, here’s his formula:
Plate 1- This is John. John works hard at a printer’s shop. This is John’s friend Steve. Steve is lazy and kicks dogs.
Plate 2- John is rewarded for his hard work and marries a respectable young lady. Steve says “Eff this” and goes off to the East Indies.
Plate 3- John becomes a Law Clerk. Steve dicks around with Hookers.
Plate 4- John buys an estate in the country. Steve contracts syphilis and his ugly girlfriend steals from the blind orphans.
Plate 5 – John becomes Mayor and is now the richest man in London.
Plate 6 -Steve gets beat up by his ex girlfriend’s new boyfriend and is burned in a fire only to be hung later that day.
The good are rewarded, the evil are punished. No redemption available. Maybe it’s because I’m too brassy for my own good, but the heroes of Hogarth Paintings always seem like such tools. I feel like the Villains are at least interesting, they don’t live their lives by the book (God forbid).
However, unlike the Rake’s or Harlot’s Progress paintings, Marriage A La Mode reads less like a Bad Gofus and Gallant sketch from Hilights for Kids.
It is more a tale of love of money over respect for others than a how-to guide. The young couple is really only a set of cogs in a system that is fundamentally broken. This is what Hogarth is really all about, meritocracy not mediocrity. Eventually they become the monsters society has made them, nothing more, nothing less.
There are countless other great paintings:
Velazquez- Venus at the Mirror
(Damn Girl you so fine you making me sexist, so fine crazy women want to stab you)
Van Dyck – Portrait of Charles I
(So I’m short, big friggin deal. I’m still going to rule your asses until...oh wait…dang)
Van Eyck – The Arnolfini Portrait
(maybe after you’re finished pretending to be pregnant you can get some housework done)
Titian – Bacchus and Ariadne
(Some brothers wanna play that "hard" role and tell you that the butt ain't gold, So they toss it and leave it, and I pull up quick to retrieve it)
Rubens- The Judgement of Paris
(Girls. Girls. You’re all pretty. Yeah, pretty heavy. Oh damn)
Wright – An Experiment on a Bird in an Air Pump
(Don’t worry girls, that bird stole a T.V. he deserves it)
Carravaggio – Boy Bitten by a Lizard
(Am I a metaphor for dude sex? A technical exercise on exploring the senses? Social commentary? Who knows.)
Holbien – The Ambassadors
(It’s like a magic eye, but literally a million times better)
Gainsborough – Mr. and Mrs. Andrews
(Look at all our stuff. Seriously, there’s a lot of it)
Suerat – The Bathers at Asnieres.
(In all seriousness this painting almost made me cry…It was at that point I realized I needed to eat and pee, not necessarily in that order, to become sane again)
Finally there’s Turner.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zc_zrz6j9Hw&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dhICGT1gnCA
No one ever breaks your heart quite like J.M.W.Turner. There is dignity and loneliness, disrepair and nostalgia all in that kind of sad golden light. The self acknowledged end of an age. This is the most poignant in The Fighting Temmiers. Turner knows it’s only a matter of time until he and his ilk are shooed away by the hard, sharp and loud future. (I’m looking at YOU Isambard Kingdom Brunnel) But there’s no point in being mad about it. Just try and go off with a little bit of dignity. That is until John Ruskin finds stacks and stacks of porn in your house after you die. Gross.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2004/dec/29/artsandhumanities.arts
The Gallery building itself is quite imposing
Originally put up by John Nash as a (can you believe it) Parthenon of virtue through art. Eventually John Nash had his ideas stolen and built by another. As the collection expanded so did the building. Each addition feels like a complex layer added onto a strong backbone. As if to say “Me too! I’m in! Don’t Forget me.” All except one. This is of course, the addition by Venturi Scott Brown and Associates. The Sainsbury Wing, is unlike the others for obvious reasons. Firstly, it’s post-modern. And very much so.
There pulling back of the stone and making it into a curtain holding back the show is that rare combination of wit, drama and sexiness that made Venturi into a legend and is so missing from his later work. The original scheme for the addition by Ahrends, Burton and Koralek was called a "monstrous carbuncle" by the Prince of Wales. A term which is now common (apparently) for a modern building that clashes with its surroundings.
http://www.ribapix.com/image.php?i=17036&r=2&t=4&x=1
The galleries of VSBA are stark yet cozy, humble yet wry. Out of context and yet completely at home, almost like an Italian painting in a British Museum…
The next stop was the National Portrait Gallery in London. A whole 30 feet away.
Beautiful, inspiring and expected. Like a Facebook gallery of you and all your supercool friends. I feel a little bit like a stalker. Additionally there is nothing I can say about this gallery which has not been said more eloquently than Kate Beaton:
http://www.harkavagrant.com/index.php?id=167
http://www.harkavagrant.com/index.php?id=168
http://www.harkavagrant.com/index.php?id=169
http://www.harkavagrant.com/index.php?id=170
Stay tuned for the next episode:
London Part II. Birds and Serpents.
Growing up, I was always pale, filled with angst, odd and desperate for approval. While she, at least to me, was tan, blonde, popular and envied no one.
This is the woman whom I one time asked the rhetorical question of :
“Man, I looked so good this morning and now I look crazy frumpy, does that ever happen to you?”
“No.”
Then a long pause
“I’m really pretty; those kinds of things just don’t happen to me”
Because of our clear differences we were often put into categories; Artistic and Misunderstood vs. Bubbly and Manipulative. Basically Jane Eyre vs. Emma Woodhouse.
I know I deserved no such credit, nor she such censure. Between the two, she has always been the smarter one and though we continually butted heads in our adolescence, we actually became good friends as we grew older. I became more confident and less dependant on others, while she became more sympathetic and understanding of faults. Eventually we decided not to force each other to be what the other one wanted. I was never going to be accepted by the Field Hockey Team and she was never going to care about the Battle of Thermopolis.
Keep that in mind when I force her to join me, on not one, but TWO modern art museums even though she hates them. She didn't even complain once. Long story short: she's pretty cool.
So let’s get down to it, shall we?
London: Part I Lone Ranger in a Strange Land.
Arriving at 7:00 am on Thursday after the world’s longest flight, I made the decision that should I ever have enough power to institute it, I am banning babies from international red-eye flights. I’m not sure what tragedy that baby had seen in its short life, but it was making it well known. Verbally. For 5 hours.
Perhaps it was the symptoms of exhaustion and disorientation that made the city of London seem so much more magical that morning. The sun was shining with a kind of pleasant indifference, the kind that beautiful people have, and I headed from our hotel along Hyde Park straight to the National Galleries.
Visiting an art museum is something that is usually best done after going Rogue. An art museum is a kind of secular cathedral; you need to be one with the greater forces at work. Such was the case here. Some of the highlights include:
Hogarths’ “Marriage A La Mode” which depicts the unfortunate and arranged marriage and acts as biting social commentary. I’ve mentioned Hogarth before on the Blog (While I was in Scotland) but just in case you’re not familiar with Hogarth, here’s his formula:
Plate 1- This is John. John works hard at a printer’s shop. This is John’s friend Steve. Steve is lazy and kicks dogs.
Plate 2- John is rewarded for his hard work and marries a respectable young lady. Steve says “Eff this” and goes off to the East Indies.
Plate 3- John becomes a Law Clerk. Steve dicks around with Hookers.
Plate 4- John buys an estate in the country. Steve contracts syphilis and his ugly girlfriend steals from the blind orphans.
Plate 5 – John becomes Mayor and is now the richest man in London.
Plate 6 -Steve gets beat up by his ex girlfriend’s new boyfriend and is burned in a fire only to be hung later that day.
The good are rewarded, the evil are punished. No redemption available. Maybe it’s because I’m too brassy for my own good, but the heroes of Hogarth Paintings always seem like such tools. I feel like the Villains are at least interesting, they don’t live their lives by the book (God forbid).
However, unlike the Rake’s or Harlot’s Progress paintings, Marriage A La Mode reads less like a Bad Gofus and Gallant sketch from Hilights for Kids.
It is more a tale of love of money over respect for others than a how-to guide. The young couple is really only a set of cogs in a system that is fundamentally broken. This is what Hogarth is really all about, meritocracy not mediocrity. Eventually they become the monsters society has made them, nothing more, nothing less.
There are countless other great paintings:
Velazquez- Venus at the Mirror
(Damn Girl you so fine you making me sexist, so fine crazy women want to stab you)
Van Dyck – Portrait of Charles I
(So I’m short, big friggin deal. I’m still going to rule your asses until...oh wait…dang)
Van Eyck – The Arnolfini Portrait
(maybe after you’re finished pretending to be pregnant you can get some housework done)
Titian – Bacchus and Ariadne
(Some brothers wanna play that "hard" role and tell you that the butt ain't gold, So they toss it and leave it, and I pull up quick to retrieve it)
Rubens- The Judgement of Paris
(Girls. Girls. You’re all pretty. Yeah, pretty heavy. Oh damn)
Wright – An Experiment on a Bird in an Air Pump
(Don’t worry girls, that bird stole a T.V. he deserves it)
Carravaggio – Boy Bitten by a Lizard
(Am I a metaphor for dude sex? A technical exercise on exploring the senses? Social commentary? Who knows.)
Holbien – The Ambassadors
(It’s like a magic eye, but literally a million times better)
Gainsborough – Mr. and Mrs. Andrews
(Look at all our stuff. Seriously, there’s a lot of it)
Suerat – The Bathers at Asnieres.
(In all seriousness this painting almost made me cry…It was at that point I realized I needed to eat and pee, not necessarily in that order, to become sane again)
Finally there’s Turner.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zc_zrz6j9Hw&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dhICGT1gnCA
No one ever breaks your heart quite like J.M.W.Turner. There is dignity and loneliness, disrepair and nostalgia all in that kind of sad golden light. The self acknowledged end of an age. This is the most poignant in The Fighting Temmiers. Turner knows it’s only a matter of time until he and his ilk are shooed away by the hard, sharp and loud future. (I’m looking at YOU Isambard Kingdom Brunnel) But there’s no point in being mad about it. Just try and go off with a little bit of dignity. That is until John Ruskin finds stacks and stacks of porn in your house after you die. Gross.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2004/dec/29/artsandhumanities.arts
The Gallery building itself is quite imposing
Originally put up by John Nash as a (can you believe it) Parthenon of virtue through art. Eventually John Nash had his ideas stolen and built by another. As the collection expanded so did the building. Each addition feels like a complex layer added onto a strong backbone. As if to say “Me too! I’m in! Don’t Forget me.” All except one. This is of course, the addition by Venturi Scott Brown and Associates. The Sainsbury Wing, is unlike the others for obvious reasons. Firstly, it’s post-modern. And very much so.
There pulling back of the stone and making it into a curtain holding back the show is that rare combination of wit, drama and sexiness that made Venturi into a legend and is so missing from his later work. The original scheme for the addition by Ahrends, Burton and Koralek was called a "monstrous carbuncle" by the Prince of Wales. A term which is now common (apparently) for a modern building that clashes with its surroundings.
http://www.ribapix.com/image.php?i=17036&r=2&t=4&x=1
The galleries of VSBA are stark yet cozy, humble yet wry. Out of context and yet completely at home, almost like an Italian painting in a British Museum…
The next stop was the National Portrait Gallery in London. A whole 30 feet away.
Beautiful, inspiring and expected. Like a Facebook gallery of you and all your supercool friends. I feel a little bit like a stalker. Additionally there is nothing I can say about this gallery which has not been said more eloquently than Kate Beaton:
http://www.harkavagrant.com/index.php?id=167
http://www.harkavagrant.com/index.php?id=168
http://www.harkavagrant.com/index.php?id=169
http://www.harkavagrant.com/index.php?id=170
Stay tuned for the next episode:
London Part II. Birds and Serpents.
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