20 October - The Tate

Well, I never actually made it to see the Turner Prize exhibition.

The Tate Britain Gallery is right next to the Chelsea College of the London University of the Arts (above).  And there must be no shortage of other schools of various sorts nearby as it seems what you do as an art student is to hang about on the steps of the Tate practicising looking disaffected.

There was a leading group of three very disaffected types - they must be expert at being artists.  The were complaining that the Turner prize didnt include any paintings.  I thought they had a point.  I like paintings.

I asked about the Turner Prize but the comprehensively aloof woman at the counter wanted to see my press pass.  At that affront I got indignant enough to decide to boycott it.  That'll teach 'em.

The Tate is quite impressive.  Apparently some rich sugar baron named Tate collected lots of paintings and other art works and eventually decided to donate them to the country, building these rather Saddam Husseinesque monuments to house them in.  The green marble entrance-ways with gold lettering would have gone done well in Saddam's pool room I think.  I'm glad I didnt get to do the virtual reality tour of his bunker - the Tate was much more Saddam's glory days.

Taken while leaving - not so many disaffectees.

I did like the paintings tho.  There were a couple with some lovely perspective studies of built environment.  While I was walking through there was a group of school children having a great time, being directed by their teacher (at top right in the sketch below) to study and make sketch notes of a painting of a ship in a stormy sea.  One girl was in a arabic style head-dress (her back to us in the sketch) staring at another picture.  The kids were producing some great bold images.

I looked for some time at a painting by Luke Fildes called "The Doctor" which was part of a collection from the Victoria era.  According to the curator Christine Riding the popularity of the novel led to an importance of narrative in this era; and depictions of middle-class values such as propriety and hard work.

There was a schmaltzy Norman Rockwell type feel to it, but the farmers cottage was interesting for the darkness of it.  The thick beams of the ceiling looked as if they'd support a heavy roof, perhaps of sod or heavy thatch; and the thickness of the walls seen by the window having a picture hung inside it.

Before leaving I sketched a column detail from the main entrance foyer.  The doric columns featured these odd little plaster or stone flowers at each corner of the capital.  Above the capital was a frieze that just went around the three sides and in turn supported a wide cornice.  It was a triple height space, and it went up further to a gallery level above with more columns up to a domed roof.

[Journal 20 October]