A quick 48 hours in London to catch up with some old friends and reacquaint ourselves with the old city.
Tacita Dean @ Tate Modern
Man I wish I had made it to see Fiona Banner at Tate Britain though.
Brick Lane Graffiti
Tag: Art
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London Graf
Walking from the V&A Post-Modernism exhibition to central London. 
View down the Thames – the city scape evolving. Would be good to hire someone without Foster or Rogers for once, eh? 
Reflecting, as usual. 
Tacita Dean filling the Turbine Hall at Tate Modern … not quite as arresting or immediately accessible as previous years, but I was happy to see motion media being employed. 
Twisting and distorting film by hand 
This is what I call a real art space – one that kids can run through and enjoy 
View from behind 
Stairs 
Ai Weiwei … would have loved to have seen the original piece, but they had a few million on display for the visitors. 
Too cool for art 
Enjoying the street art along Brick Lane. 
Space Invader! 
Locals also enjoying it. 
Characters 
Old geezers – hey was that the same guy? 
HUH? 
I wonder how much the local authorities tolerate / encourage the work? 
Bright colours 
Seems that portraits are pretty edgy right now. -
D’Hiver de Paris
“Moi?”It’s quite likely that I have been to France in the region of thirty times. I have canoed the Ardeche, the Tarn, the Loire. I have frolicked on the beaches of Normandy, of Bordeaux, and of the Mediterranean. I have carved snow in Corchevel, Meribel, Tignes, Val D’Isere, amongst others. I have taken in vantage points from the Massif Central, the Alps and the Pyrennes. But while I have seen the Eiffel Tower many times drifting by on our extended family car journeys, I have never been to Paris.
My Dad decided that 2010 was the year to rectify this injustice, celebrating my Mother’s 60th birthday with the whole family, and giving our Baby Ben (‘BB’) his first trip abroad. The idea of arriving at Gard du Nord on Eurostar, likely mildly hammered on cheap Champagne, ticks all the right Eurocrat boxes, but when we discovered Easyjet was exactly half the price of the train we obviously opted to tolerate a ride with the shit-munchers and save the money for opulent feasts in the city’s eateries.
Mum was delighted! Especially as she actually turns 59 this year.
Notre Dame
Our unashamedly ‘touristique’ weekend started with the short walk from our hotel to the religious heart of the capital; Notre Dame. While disappointed there were no mad people swinging from belfries, it was amazing to see a place in the flesh that you knew so well. The movies clearly use wide-angle lenses, for while the towers were tall, they lacked any intimidating. doom-laden silhouette I was looking forward to seeing. But that could have been the icy wind talking; no-one was really motivated to stick around too long, and we made a bee-line for the Louvre.
“The bells, the bells!”
Subtle lighting inside was inspiring...
Sensitive treatment of the roof...
… and some bloody great big plasma screens.
Warming up on the way to the Louvre – Hot Chocolate went down a treat.
Mild bemusement.
Gazing outside
You can really see Dave’s chin!
<a href=”https://heresjonny.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/IMG_1995.jpg”><img class=”alignnone size-large wp-image-1308″ title=”IMG_1995″ src=”https://heresjonny.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/IMG_1995-585×390.jpg” alt=”” width=”585″ height=”390″ /></a>Braving the elements again!
The Louvre
Local lads flirting with giggling hoards of visiting Japanese girls, armed with overpriced souvenirs. It must be easy pickings.
Focus of the first day of visits was really The Louvre. The promise of warmth and dryness underfoot was balanced with a healthy interest in some of the vast collection of fine art. And ‘vast’ is the word; we picked Flemish and Dutch masters, and barely managed to scratch the surface of the subject, merely taking in some of the more well-known masters like Rembrandt,Van Icke, Vermeer and then a whole hall full of ‘Rubenses’. We left the French and Italian masters for the Japanese tourists, and did not have the will-power to attempt a run at the Mona Lisa. I already know what that one looks like anyway.
I must say, the scale and range of what was on offer was mesmerising, but I was left a little exhausted. I am far from being an expert in any of these subjects, and I appreciated it when you were able to see the artists’ sketches or process, or when they grouped different painters together to give a degree of context. I suppose, I would have just appreciated a little more curation, and less density in the way that the paintings were hung. I feel like you could spend a fortnight in there; in London you would simply visit a different gallery in a different part of the city to see the range on offer.
Deeply impressive, but a little intimidating. Although Benjamin didn’t seem to feel the same pressure!
Business class travel, down to the basement lobby area.
Arriving in style!
Snow gathering on the roof, we were happy to be inside!
Views through the mini-pyramids
Waving to a long-lost friend
Pensive
Brrr!
Tracks in the snow
Benjamin appreciates the Rubens hall.
Benjamin’s first snowball fight.
Run away!
The Eiffel Tower
No trip to Paris would be complete without a trip to the Eiffel Tower. A sunny, icy, clear day held promise for being able to see the edges of the city, and we duly queued-up for the elevator to the first level. Sadly, it slowly dawned on us that they were not going beyond the first level, and this was confirmed when we were told ‘ice on the tracks’ made the ascent too dangerous. Never mind, it was still a pleasure to see the fabulous structure, and get a feeling for the layout of the city from up-high. We were even treated to a very memorable display of public art in the grounds of the tower.
The fantastic subway.
The approach.
Greeting other visitors
The space created under the arches is truly breathtaking.
Over-engineered?
Intricate details.
A very public art show!
On our way to the restaurant for lunch, the ice really made negotiating some of the walkways difficult!
A very memorable lunch, taking in scenes of Christmas through the glass of the bar.
Other Stuff
If you ask me, it’s the ‘other stuff’ that makes Paris so pleasant; the moseying along the streets, the hanging out in the cafe, the buying the bread. Paris is almost uniform in its prettiness, as opposed to the highs and lows of London; 60s high-rise sat alongside Greek revivalist edifice, opposite the ultra-modern statement. It almost reminded me of Japan, with its shops, eateries and gorgeous little details popping out now and again. It’s certainly a place I should return to.
Sartorialistes Parisiennes!.
Art Nouveau (very reminiscent of Charles Rennie Mackintosh) up on Montmartre. Especially love the spider’s web!
More Art Nouveau on the Metro.
Art ‘Even More Nouveau’ on the streets … Invader‘s art (as featured in the Banksy movie ‘Exit Through the Gift Shop‘)
And one more.
Views out across the city from Montmartre.
Looking out towards the Pompidou Centre (definitely need to tick that one off the next time I go).
Touring the streets.
Some buildings I once saw in the Tour de France.
Even the road-markings are interesting.
Baby Ben
But the star of the show, naturally, was Baby Ben. He held up very well in the cold weather, and did very well facing delays at the airport in both directions. I shall miss you, wee man!
Gazing in wonder
Looking very pleased with himself.
Wait for it …
Peepo!
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Taichung Escape
Since we will both be travelling a fair bit in the near future, Nikki and I decided to make a break for the border and head down for a weekend away in Taichung – Taiwan’s second city. The bigger spaces, cleaner air, better weather and more relaxed pace makes for a good get-away location. That, and being able to sample some of the crazy hotels that the hotel is famous for.
Browsing the shops in the nightmarkets of Taichung is never anything less than a visual overload – and a pleasure. Hello Kitty kitsch is so stunningly ubiquitous as to slowly become invisible. Miffy stuff, however, seems to have fallen completely out of favour. Ah, the whims of the Taiwanese cute collector.
An Aladdin’s Cave of cuteness
I wish I had bought this sleeping mask now … it would be perfect for the flight back!
Doggy and kitty fashion by the boatload
High-speed Takoyaki restaurant, with its own custom oil sucker-upper … pretty sure they shouldn’t need that much oil, but I guess that’s how they come here.
I am constantly amused by the legs descending from the sky in Taiwanese night markets.
Nikki in the Museum of Fine Arts – Taichung
Watching the clouds, skies, and kites on the grass … people don’t lie on the grass much in Taiwan!
Reflecting on things #1
Reflecting on things #2
Waiting for the HSR back to Taipei.
Exit Through The Gift Shop
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Artist at Work
Somehow this photo seems to freeze frame a few of the individuals at large in Austin. It must be noted that the guy was using luminous paints to capture his scene.
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Andy Warhol in Taipei
Andy Warhol at the CKSThe latest ‘hot’ exhibition to visit in Taipei is th Andy Warhol retrospective at the Chiang Kai Shek Memorial Hall (at least, I think they changed the name back from ‘Democracy Memorial Hall’, when the DPP were pissing around with changing names of historical monuments). I suppose I am not the biggest fan on earth of Warhol, but I am happy enough to go along and check it out – especially since it was with a few arty friends who know a little more about the subject of screen printing and pop art.
What made me double-intrigued was the fact that it was being held underneath the mausoleum of said National Icon – and it could not escape my finely-honed sense of irony that one of the key exhibits was a print of his arch-nemesis, Mao Zedong.
Like all too many exhibitions in Taiwan, there were too many exhibits (walls and walls full of Marilyn, it seemed) and too many people shuffling around. The exhibition design was lacking, and the space was, in a word, ‘poky’ – although I can hardly blame this on them – if you plan to have an exhibition under a tomb you ain’t going to argue about space. The shop did seem, however, to deliver on the ‘commercial art’ promise of Warhol, and was thus packed with people buying tat pasted with Warhol signatures.
Or maybe I was just hung over. Anyway – a fun day out. By starting at Chiang Kai Shek and ending up at Ximen, I really did feel like I was in a foreign country for the first time in a little while.
Seeing the dancers practicing in the windows reminded me of trips there when I first arrived. The photo I took that day of the kids throwing one of their friends in the air is still one of my favourite shots.
Friends jacking around
I probably take the same photo every time, but it still makes me chuckle.
Impressive doors, and brass nobs. -
Carsten Höller – Tate 2006
I LOVE THE TATE MODERN.
Every time I go it just manages to blow me away with its scale and scope, and yet with its openness and refreshing lack of hautiness so common in modern art galleries.
I love seeing the tourists’ faces when they come upon the Turbine Hall. No doubt, they have been dragging their families from tour to museum to exhibition and you can imaging the kids whinging that they would really rather be having a Happy Meal thankyou very much. But that is all forgotten, and as the American art students studiously take notes, Grannies strain their necks and bepolonecked German art critics reflect, a dozen kids whizz around the exhibition imagining they are space fighters. This has happened three times in as many years (before with Anish Kapoor and Rachel Whitbread), and it is a credit to the curators that they can draw in such disperate groups.
This time though. This time. Wow. Never have I been challenged with such a physical, kinetic assault that at the same time piqued my engineering, art and whizz bang kiddo sensibilities. Forget all that – I WANT TO GO AGAIN!
For Carsten Höller, the experience of sliding is best summed up in a phrase by the French writer Roger Caillois as a ‘voluptuous panic upon an otherwise lucid mind’. The slides are impressive sculptures in their own right, and you don’t have to hurtle down them to appreciate this artwork. What interests Höller, however, is both the visual spectacle of watching people sliding and the ‘inner spectacle’ experienced by the sliders themselves, the state of simultaneous delight and anxiety that you enter as you descend.
One thing I love – it’s free entry and the dryest route between the South Bank and the St. ‘Blade of Light’ Pauls Bridge … take 2 minutes or 2 days, as you please
LEVEL 5
It is quite popular – the image of kids egging their Mums on to the slide, and then the shrill scream of fear and joy as they hurtle down the tube was very amusing … almost as amusing was to sit near the bottom and watch people land, their faces lit up, before they allowed themselves to compose themselves once more as they walk away. -
Chinese Economics
Today was the first day off I had in a week and a half, so I planned to get up, head to the train station and go and find my self of ‘real’
Unfortunately, that plan was dashed by the cleaning lady at my door this morning, indicating I had slept through my alarm by two hours. I made it to the station, bought a ticket to
I have to say, this is a town to live in, not to visit. The Bund is marvellous and there are a few other interesting places to go, but it does not have the tourist attraction of
I had some rather forced conversations with Chinese clearly wanting to sell me something under the pretence of learning English – a ruse I got extremely tired of. The pinnacle came when my will broke and accompanied a pair of Chinese students to a café bar for a coffee. My treat, and I didn’t really mind. I was rather shocked to find they had ordered half the menu and the most expensive Whiskeys on the menu! My heart both dropping and pounding in rage, I had to control myself, pay the bill and get the hell out. I raised a stink but this was clearly not a good idea in the particular location I had chosen. You know, I have traversed
That feels better now! Now I prepare to head out one last time to meet Henry from my High School. Amazing to see him and my oldest friend in
Shower and change. A wiser man steps out into the night.
Bamboo sticks out into the street, providing drying space for clothes. Just thread them on and poke ’em out!
The pond at YuYuen gardens – the ‘Old City’
A door
A phone recharging machine on Nanjing Street. Maybe I am the only one that found it interesting.
The animation exhibition in MOCA – The Museum of Contemporary Art – in People’s Square.
Spinning LED installation – quite cool – reminded me of a guy from my old time at ideo in London
Bruce Lee Fried Chicken. I’m Not Joking. Actually they take his Chinese name ‘Lee Xiao Long’, or ‘Little Dragon’ Lee -
Juming Art Museum
I had a nice day trip to Juming Art Museum on the north coast with Klara (Swedish girl who sold me her scooter… and it turned out she was a designer… and well we got along ‘very well’). The day was more like a Californian spring day (I imagine) and for once the air was really cool and clear. We had an amazing ride over Yangmingshan mountain – the volcano at the end of my street.
This is my favourite statue from his Tai Chi series. The amusing thing was watching the Taiwanese take photos of each other imitating every sculpture… and of course taking photos and sniggering.
Me, hanging out in the sun in front of one of the larger sculptures… and being truly local by being on the phone!
Wee kid.
Klara and I in a cafe on the North Coast.
