tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14064872855098870682024-03-05T11:20:04.379-08:00B T Museum ConsultancyA blog on museums, culture generally and life in LondonB Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.comBlogger38125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-50962104701107173822012-01-03T07:12:00.000-08:002012-01-03T10:01:58.777-08:00Cultural heritage systems?<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_kcMsJi5ZQ_gV1zzRSXkwkTRpusoVVherqxcHGFG6D34IL1QJSXJmeMwCey3x-LpuNhZBw_wbYmo2BB-K0tt28Y4X0YTI3riYBvW7rlSPZRh6UonNxoD1fmix6RKopRzXfQ_AzZSxRMmg/s1600/Galleria+Borghese+why+tourists+love+and+hate+Italian+heritage.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_kcMsJi5ZQ_gV1zzRSXkwkTRpusoVVherqxcHGFG6D34IL1QJSXJmeMwCey3x-LpuNhZBw_wbYmo2BB-K0tt28Y4X0YTI3riYBvW7rlSPZRh6UonNxoD1fmix6RKopRzXfQ_AzZSxRMmg/s320/Galleria+Borghese+why+tourists+love+and+hate+Italian+heritage.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693438111403166930" /></span></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">Italian cultural heritage is all about <i>systems</i>. Or rather, professionals in Italy (and politicians) who work in culture and heritage and museums etc often refer to a national <i>system of cultural heritage</i>. My own post-grad course of studies (completed in Milan more years ago than I care to remember) turned me into (I kid you not) a "strategic planner of integrated cultural systems"... and I confess I have spent the last 18 years of my life striving to reach the heady heights of the job description.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">In no way, however, does Italy seem to support a cultural <i>system</i>. I take this word to indicate a group of interacting, interrelated or interdependent elements, or elements that are functionally related, and form a complex whole. From my point of view, at the heart of any cultural system is the visitor, who experiences heritage, ultimately becomes its patron and protector, funds it <i>and - most importantly - gives it meaning</i>. Many visitors to Italy's incredible cultural sites are not seen in this way - mostly, they are overwhelmed (see above).</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">The word 'system' in Italy often refers to the country itself: the <i>sistema-paese</i>, describing the whole country as if it were a seamless, well-oiled engine that works across everything: political thinking, financial planning, infrastructure, education, culture... I shall let this lie for the moment since anyone who is abreast of current affairs or has ever lived in Italy for a short time can testify that the more Italians speak about systems the least systemic and organised is the <i>blob </i>they are referring to. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">Sometimes the word <i>system</i> is used to indicate a set of disparate things which Italians naively consider become a single entity once they are referred to in the collective. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">So while Italy as a whole is referred to (in cultural terms) as a single, continuous, open-air, <i>diffuse</i> <i>museum system (sistema museale diffuso)</i>, in actual fact it is not physically possible to visit any attraction in Italy that is in any way connected to another, either thematically or functionally; nor are heritage sites grouped together because of their management structures or operational models; nor can you book tickets to attractions that belong to the same municipality or are state-owned via a single website; nor can you find out about all of - say - Milan's cultural attractions on one portal. <i>How can we honestly consider Italian cultural heritage to be a system? </i></span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;"><br /></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-style: normal; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC8aOvaNqvYtOyHxEDIMTpqhyphenhyphenguAewvprkKMqTQZpktFQPCwPuo1tDU213-1UVXc3zoGEd1teOJXCXwji09UmYFXaC2FnTIPtuc1vAYuOIPRaGv9pcLIxghEJTvF7tK2XbrU66UNTzfY0K/s320/PIXAR+frustrated+mouse.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693464156942045106" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">The PIXAR mouse - Copyright PIXAR - expresses my frustration (-;</span></span></i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-36476881590954350482011-10-18T14:13:00.000-07:002011-10-18T14:20:23.955-07:00Theatre and history: Decade and 9/11<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWTk2L2qP-7snvpjE9WY9hFVE2k08l0rvzCccHhsOH4E2P_mW2tCgjy6d2LkP0MZh7lmVuX633un-LephMOrHH99K4Jm8SA6A-LNe_3gPBi29rwb8o8Z8LEQc_udE9f1TpfjcveWSexekN/s1600/Decade+signpost.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWTk2L2qP-7snvpjE9WY9hFVE2k08l0rvzCccHhsOH4E2P_mW2tCgjy6d2LkP0MZh7lmVuX633un-LephMOrHH99K4Jm8SA6A-LNe_3gPBi29rwb8o8Z8LEQc_udE9f1TpfjcveWSexekN/s320/Decade+signpost.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664943900082009522" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Museums, as institutions of public memory, fail for the most part to engage with contemporary perspectives on history. In trying to understand why this is the case, I was fascinated to go to the theatre – actually, to a disused conference hall in an office block in Katherine’s Dock in east London, a short walk from Tower Bridge and the Tower of London.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Decade – headlined “Two towers. Ten years. Thousands of opinions” – presents a selection of scripts by 19 playwrights, produced by Headlong Theatre, directed by Rupert Goold. The world premiere welcomes the audience through a security check which resembles an airport lounge – body scanner gates and bag checks with US uniformed guards. This is truly site specific theatre.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; "></span></span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnKeUzXnXc7wj9DItoKxWFcyYQYuC8kkYPrEOqt-UeMm39owSnWNn5Je3EDp-PFzZNDl6stdliL2bjMm3h3vqWqc5j6PJII-Olh_xtyxYjcZn2CEAJHvDYyrJ_2mOtCGo1ibUeH8dx1Znu/s1600/Decade+theatre+foyer.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnKeUzXnXc7wj9DItoKxWFcyYQYuC8kkYPrEOqt-UeMm39owSnWNn5Je3EDp-PFzZNDl6stdliL2bjMm3h3vqWqc5j6PJII-Olh_xtyxYjcZn2CEAJHvDYyrJ_2mOtCGo1ibUeH8dx1Znu/s320/Decade+theatre+foyer.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664943905780615602" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><p></p></span><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Once past the interrogation, we were shown to a red carpet area where waitresses clutching clipboards showed us to our tables – exactly like an expensive American resaurant – the World Trade Centre’s Windows on the World. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); font-size: 16px; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCV39D0CkDtxpWemZHA05_IxgEySyPZYHPWbMxMvPp2ZlQT3VbAZC0dJyotWpg9bE5ylZ0eILZtbj3BHAcylK36po4GkSElKR2WX_ZC71nSz-3W4vgFch0KtAcnijkhqs4QCvfBdxGtbHG/s320/Decade+theatre+set+and+audience.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664943921641673634" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></span></span></span></p><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: medium; ">Weirdly, they greeted us with a too bright “Good morning” which chilled me to my bones. Menus on each table “Welcome to America’s most famous and highest grossing restaurant” are themed to include prices for the breakfast offerings – omelettes, seasonal berries and papaya, griddle cakes with butter and maple syrup – as well as information on the restaurant itself: The boundless landscapes seen from the towers inspired the thinking and planning of the menus. The stage set is incredibly convincing, and unsettling – the views are indeed boundless, and recall convincingly those bright sprakling blue skies of New York that infamous day.</span></div> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXgDXtP6UulfysU915LkHlIB859qfGfyF71a8yl34ayfQiPZSR1i6S-bwSmSwBRkTAmr9G3lzhb_U9GltS6CuIx7jW6uMqK_bWi2QpgXc56_O-lW6acsS4j0eUPYj4Iohc9t7pEUdjLjlo/s1600/Decade+windows+view.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXgDXtP6UulfysU915LkHlIB859qfGfyF71a8yl34ayfQiPZSR1i6S-bwSmSwBRkTAmr9G3lzhb_U9GltS6CuIx7jW6uMqK_bWi2QpgXc56_O-lW6acsS4j0eUPYj4Iohc9t7pEUdjLjlo/s320/Decade+windows+view.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664943924567668466" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">This is strong theatre. The production is intense, well choreographed, fast moving. It blends dance routines with slow motion movement sequences, and spans different writing techniques and styles harmoniously. The acting is variable, but the tension is constant. We time travel back 10 years, with the annual memorial day get-together of 3 widows over coffee helping to pace the calendar for the audience and providing an anchor for the other episodes on stage. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">This is a strong interpretation of history. I know of no museum or interpretation centre which reflects on the impact of 9/11 in quite such a sweeping manner, allowing reflection, criticism, alternative viewpoints, dialogue, interpretations. If possible for theatre, why do museums find it so difficult to reflect in a similar open ended way?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I have come to the conclusion that often, although peculiarly well positioned to help reflecting on and critiquing history, museums are stuck in their interpretations because they focus on their collections – sometimes exclusively so. The material history they preserve seems to stifle their capacity for new interpretations. They fail to make that all important leap to writing the history of the big picture, considering their collections only tangentially. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">This is what I herald in terms of </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">narrative museums</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">. This is a strong interpretative lesson: </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: medium; ">do not think about what collections can do for you, but what you can do with the collections. In other words: think what you want to say, not what the collections can say. Only then, extrapolate how best to say that using them.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-78380845827795362562011-10-08T02:52:00.001-07:002011-10-08T02:59:39.175-07:00Remembered history, living memory<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCyvxX7KhWhf3cI70jZzGMwq5uup9ddQO9EEegJ-D13auwXyuFfPIxjnaoz7DRN3RXoO3a1I-l9JPZ__6PxhzvDAdK6WEV8N0l9PNAOh5TG6hiK2lb8s1xKAuBW0eWaFqzwPU3IR1HSQRd/s1600/Dubrovnik+memorial.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg54f8M3DfD-uB25o5Z4LjtahHu31ctobDSbx03EhV3g7UX_JNEo30WjkcdSubdcY5oXiPNhdRJtncZSCDCaLCFsaNFnCW2PTf9veId4eVmSgefWDBerC7oBDwtjX_Cql4xnXqdrbEfVnSC/s1600/Dubrovnik+Lest+we+forget.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg54f8M3DfD-uB25o5Z4LjtahHu31ctobDSbx03EhV3g7UX_JNEo30WjkcdSubdcY5oXiPNhdRJtncZSCDCaLCFsaNFnCW2PTf9veId4eVmSgefWDBerC7oBDwtjX_Cql4xnXqdrbEfVnSC/s320/Dubrovnik+Lest+we+forget.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5661057594865690722" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: medium; ">The bookshop owner’s personal memorial on this corner of Dubrovnik that I blogged about in my previous post is one of the only testaments to the conflict in ex-Yugoslavia 1991-1992 that I could find in the city. I found it poignant, and alarming – there is no other official history or public reflection on the events, but this man’s personal effort to remember and document.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: medium; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWK_ARlKy13WcwvqhKh5Z1mr9Jz9e6SxkqtSBrMnjQEK1vX-gGCnHD4Qg2y_3dL_T1kXWfMGcGKsy78_wzfdNBbNYJ3pxT-RouRP3ISUPYCBcACwAcCk7etrdd0uHmAhp3MgDdi3BvnIE6/s1600/Dubrovnik+bookshop+memorial.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWK_ARlKy13WcwvqhKh5Z1mr9Jz9e6SxkqtSBrMnjQEK1vX-gGCnHD4Qg2y_3dL_T1kXWfMGcGKsy78_wzfdNBbNYJ3pxT-RouRP3ISUPYCBcACwAcCk7etrdd0uHmAhp3MgDdi3BvnIE6/s320/Dubrovnik+bookshop+memorial.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5661057589209532866" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); font-size: 16px; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCyvxX7KhWhf3cI70jZzGMwq5uup9ddQO9EEegJ-D13auwXyuFfPIxjnaoz7DRN3RXoO3a1I-l9JPZ__6PxhzvDAdK6WEV8N0l9PNAOh5TG6hiK2lb8s1xKAuBW0eWaFqzwPU3IR1HSQRd/s320/Dubrovnik+memorial.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5661057593920479586" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></span></span></p><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The black and yellow </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: medium; ">panel</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: medium; ">, written in Croatian and English, reads:</span></div> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Our city was savagely attacked early in the morning by the Serbian and Montenegrian army on St Nicholas Day, 6</span></span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">th</span></span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"> December 1991. It was the saddest Friday in the history of Dubrovnik! At 7 o’clock that morning, the cross on the mount of Srd was destroyed. Already at 7.10 am a shell, one of the first to hit the city, hit our house, at 7.20 the third fateful one set our house on fire! I tried to extinguish it in the attic with a few buckets of water, but I failed. Shells kept falling and we had to abandon the burning house! I carried my old mother (aged 88) to the groundfloor and then to the neighbourhood. I ran twice to the second floor to take the most important documents, butane gas canister, the lamp, and my sister’s shoes. My sister Merica managed to run to the neighbour’s house with blankets over her head. Somehow, I too managed to run across a little later with a pot on my head. We threw pots, pans and bottles filled with water into the burning flames in a delusive hope. By the nightfall, 7 mortar shells fell on the house, three of them incendiary bombs. </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Thank God we were not hurt!</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> A reminder that whether museums are wary or scared of reflecting on events, public history is always very personal. So the choices for institutions of public memory are either to face the interpretative challenge, or, by avoiding it, censor it.</span></span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-92128333527108636542011-10-07T01:24:00.001-07:002011-10-07T01:32:45.686-07:00“Militant” public memory institutions<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjdr6RfAHSXZ4p25s7pRyGqHvEODj6vSD2bv82CElm7aVI2tyoIQCW87qHZ51jFNpcQRKd7SsQzCKmvswgoS9M7fzqRvox4H3r0xbP76hdlcAlwhYpEbXbH7tWokEvCFVWnlA4fE1gBMMu/s1600/Dubrivnik+memorial+tourists.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ncqUmIJ4PsuV310cn3PnQ3Sy1UBFQbh3eJ3cH5CCRtOYSJTB8uDXI1UkBvCiI7eqQYAasmmeEx4Se5UtiqH-3LKRpZ3cmhCbTIcleS3hOucFx-SfUU3SRljZgYnuP_spG92vEFtYydsW/s1600/Dubrovnik+skyline+3.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ncqUmIJ4PsuV310cn3PnQ3Sy1UBFQbh3eJ3cH5CCRtOYSJTB8uDXI1UkBvCiI7eqQYAasmmeEx4Se5UtiqH-3LKRpZ3cmhCbTIcleS3hOucFx-SfUU3SRljZgYnuP_spG92vEFtYydsW/s320/Dubrovnik+skyline+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660664016778627938" /></a><div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Le </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">musée militant </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">is an expression coined in the 1970s by Tomislav Sola, a Croatian museologist who is the driving force and philosopher behind the Best in Heritage movement, a yearly conference which takes place in Dubrovnik in Autumn.</span></span></div> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">At this year’s edition, Professor Sola stated that political and social engagement is something museums and heritage institutions are called on to provide a platform for. Public memory institutions – and I would say </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">all </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">forms of public interpretation – must respond to the language of everyday life. How else can they claim to be </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">public</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">? How else can they become relevant to more and more people, from more and more diverse backgrounds?</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He harked back to the 1970s, when the militant museum movement was embodied by the increasingly popular </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ecomuseums</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. These institutions, riding the long cultural wave of democratising history and its interpretation, brought together people’s stories, community narratives, folk traditions and launched a new policy of collections acquisition which meant something for the communities in which they operated. Some museums today continue that tradition – the ethnographical museum in Frankfurt being one. Others have misplaced their mission, and stagnated. The Ethnographic Museum in Dubrovnik, pictured below, which I visited during the conference, is just one example of a forgotten museum, a lonesome repository of something past which provides no fresh interpretation relevant to the present. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJyKfLZyjNka5Ze2dK9aaerFov74PEoW2qaFfEJlLAWNWWnTvZK8nxcxM86D44tHQDWLfN16pXT98vBGoxMHfGTBI_wXgf93lNEKqDy9yJ6s6J1QzuKRtDYJRVPsFwbnLT3gKA9W2TtvsN/s1600/Dubrovnik+ethnographical+museum.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJyKfLZyjNka5Ze2dK9aaerFov74PEoW2qaFfEJlLAWNWWnTvZK8nxcxM86D44tHQDWLfN16pXT98vBGoxMHfGTBI_wXgf93lNEKqDy9yJ6s6J1QzuKRtDYJRVPsFwbnLT3gKA9W2TtvsN/s320/Dubrovnik+ethnographical+museum.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660663736657110130" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The idea behind militancy in a public memory institution (I like this expression because it brings together museums and heritage for their joint mission of communicating rather than separating them for their specialist forms of collection) is about being upfront with presenting dilemmas which we face everyday, and offering different interpretations. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The issue was brought home to me while walking around the streets of Dubrovnik, a site which was martyred during the ex Yugoslavia conflict in 1991-1992. The so called ‘pearl’ of the Mediterranean, a UNESCO World Heritage site, is absolutely beautiful: a walled city accessible only to pedestrians, medieval in its conception and planning, built around a market and port, a city state to rival Venice in the 13</span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">th</span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and 14</span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">th</span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> centuries. Its deep red terracotta roofs are pristine: they have all been replaced in the last 20 years, and look very new and modern. It has been beautifully reconstructed from the ravages of war, which are visible only in photographic books available in some bookshops, in a tiny display in the Napoleonic fortress which overlooks the city, and a strange personal memorial corner in one of the beautiful side streets. Stuck on the wall by the bookshop owner whose books, manuscripts and editions were charred and burnt when his house and shop were bombed. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjdr6RfAHSXZ4p25s7pRyGqHvEODj6vSD2bv82CElm7aVI2tyoIQCW87qHZ51jFNpcQRKd7SsQzCKmvswgoS9M7fzqRvox4H3r0xbP76hdlcAlwhYpEbXbH7tWokEvCFVWnlA4fE1gBMMu/s320/Dubrivnik+memorial+tourists.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660664814963021842" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Where did Dubrovnik hide its recent history? Who wished it be swept under the carpet of tourism? Is it admissable, today, to retreat into silence? Is it simply more comfortable this way? <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The recently re-opened Ulster Museum was awarded the 2010 Art Fund Prize for, among other things, being passionate about its public: “</span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We were impressed by the interactive learning spaces on each level that are filled with objects which visitors are encouraged to touch and explore, and by how the museum’s commitment to reaching all parts of its community is reflected in the number and diversity of its visitors. The transformed Ulster Museum is an emblem of the confidence and cultural rejuvenation of Northern Ireland.”</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The museum presents, among many other themes, the Irish Troubles which ravaged the northern tip of the island of Ireland and had long tentacles radiating into mainland UK between 1969 and 1990s. The museum’s interpretation strategy was to avoid object selection – they intentionally did not want to present a history by dividing communities around questions such as which objects are most prominent and most important and – of course – which have been left out. The story is too raw, too recent, too real to do this. So the interpretation perspective shifted. The museum team sought not to present a perfect, neutral survey of information – perfect but useless - but rather provide a new depth and a new breadth to the content, to carry a metamessage around its re-presentation of history: this space is a space for community, where content must remain purposeful in order to continue meaningful.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A new meaning of militant. Lessons we still have to learn.</span></span><o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div>B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-72313945665966664172011-06-27T11:15:00.000-07:002011-07-13T00:55:07.644-07:00Excuse number 4: understanding that to be a business person in Italy you need to become a social entrepreneur<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8AQWtVHFx0-PLA1v-hkmfEzLZmUdI6TxwYDb8fiHXSSRVnqxDzCCMDW0gdhPEcvvVoxw9Bc2GKZrTTzntVVoHFu1F8MKc9pYzTp866ljb81ZK3A3zpqnzbg_m1DFE9HkquatiahAz6_aq/s1600/Masseria+cappella.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5rwOx1EmS3QKqMIhsorVEgeBLvZCoE00VpcIEtEuc6EH3JvhJtPikmntsw27BWI8B79yB6DOai4bN46dVKZgYAeQKW17a57zHpONWakW1RDqj8OotLcfycM62I2eeKOts5YG3AMN1ojRu/s1600/Masseria+view.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5rwOx1EmS3QKqMIhsorVEgeBLvZCoE00VpcIEtEuc6EH3JvhJtPikmntsw27BWI8B79yB6DOai4bN46dVKZgYAeQKW17a57zHpONWakW1RDqj8OotLcfycM62I2eeKOts5YG3AMN1ojRu/s320/Masseria+view.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628740666443882098" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I spent a lovely week on a farm in southern Italy recently. The farm - a semi ruin - was bought a few years ago by two British business partners who have sensitively restored the original features of this beautiful masseria and turned it into a high spec, luxury retreat - it also boasts a swimming pool and art studio. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Jan, the owner, has done so much more, though. She is a "donna vera" (</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"a real woman"</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">) said her 83 year old neighbour to me, while grabbing my arm and looking straight into my eyes. She has, as a foreigner, completely taken on the whole community - which is a very unusual attitude for (Italian) buyers of second homes in Italy. Living most of her time in south east London, Jan travels with booked groups to her Masseria della Zingara - and once there, she has coffee with her neighbours, most of whom are older couples, some with their children as carers, still living the rural life. These are people living in relative poverty, with a simple way of life - chickens in the back yard, a guard dog on a leash, cherries on the trees, olive groves and vegetable plots. It is a hard life, and they are proud of their sons and daughters who have moved away from the land into the town. But their link to the countryside is central to who they are.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The region of Puglia is known as Italy's vegetable garden - my own recipe for minestrone (Italian vegetable soup) comes from my greengrocer - who set up shop in Milano but was originally from Puglia. </span></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">While enjoying the wild fennel salad, the fresh broad bean coulis, the chocolate and caramelised broad bean mousse... I started to think about what it takes to make a difference to the Italian heritage sector. Especially, I have been perplexed about why in Italy it is so rare to consider culture as a catalyst for the economy, and for regeneration generally, not simply a side benefit of the tourist industry.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /> </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8AQWtVHFx0-PLA1v-hkmfEzLZmUdI6TxwYDb8fiHXSSRVnqxDzCCMDW0gdhPEcvvVoxw9Bc2GKZrTTzntVVoHFu1F8MKc9pYzTp866ljb81ZK3A3zpqnzbg_m1DFE9HkquatiahAz6_aq/s320/Masseria+cappella.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628740669552744418" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Jan's approach to the restoration of her ancient masseria was to have the side chapel (the view above) reconsecrated by the parish priest on Easter Sunday, to return it to its original role for this countryside. Once upon a time, the chapel brought people together from across the land, who would gather and socialise, exchange news and gossip, organise their weekly trip to town and to the market to sell their produce, mingle with the landowners, catch up on new births and deaths, on the news from town... a </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">civilta' contadina</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> marked by hard work and strong relationships, carved in the sweat and heat of this land. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxQUrmZ4-Flpx4hYiUciCYRiA15TijLoWrK7-0Qf43H1oA1uxJ34w_q12zCAKqRuvwC0kSVHT1PS3flGwwmgiNb5NAgtPj5oPV_z6oBFwvb7TOxW3pmUBH4RP4iEHs2IkHdx1x_FfZFojO/s320/antica+civilta+contadina.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628726189255404658" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 203px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">She told us of the trickle of locals who came by that day, some dressed in their black Sunday best, the older women with their heads covered in black head dress, each bringing something to share, and each with memories and stories of when they were children, of the hard times on the land. One old gentleman brought pictures of him standing proud next to his ravaged older father, next to the chapel of the Masseria. (The picture above is from an Italian website http://tradizionipopolari.splinder.com/post/1970140/la-festa which gathers archival material on traditional farming in Molise, one of the poorer regions of Italy. Unfortunately, I have no old pictures of the Masseria della Zingara)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Jan has built a formidable business, but not by pillaging the land, stealing its beauty and secluding it for luxury retreats - rather by injecting back into it what makes it a part of our living heritage. She has brought back meaning to a civilisation that is fast disappearing, and refreshed its value for other people who, though not born here, all have memories of grandparents and ancient roots. If the Italian state understood that this is the point of conserving heritage and history, Italy would not simply be a conservation society, but a living society built on its history. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-66589489765779529852011-06-24T00:28:00.000-07:002011-06-27T11:15:31.110-07:00Excuse number 3: my first time in Sicily!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvG_lHpu_iJk3BW0VrmIgsNOTX4x7rZ76dzxdWZa6vWhFycZUf8n2rSUnoOtY2vxvvHHU_3kCJ6-hNV4NGyNReq2nE5bTLUpFIbXInpjIEMz2uN9M_pk0Db4PWO8_z4JokeNZlbyXrxhKG/s1600/red+brick.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; font-size:13.3333px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><div style="text-align: left; "><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipfiJyCn6U2ZlAA_bIJEMYgioh3XG9kzYH4hzXV-ikY7qHuxGOqtNCEHeF72uM_lISPPJv8oHAmhJiyheKFldjAknSr4SaGcNWOuvSt7LH5SKrmWJnMSQbwaHwk-SvFN0liJkhhXSZvzm2/s1600/IMG_6794.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipfiJyCn6U2ZlAA_bIJEMYgioh3XG9kzYH4hzXV-ikY7qHuxGOqtNCEHeF72uM_lISPPJv8oHAmhJiyheKFldjAknSr4SaGcNWOuvSt7LH5SKrmWJnMSQbwaHwk-SvFN0liJkhhXSZvzm2/s320/IMG_6794.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621542225608608674" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></span></u></div></span></span></span></span></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Sicily is a beautiful, vast, lonesome, surprisingly green, rugged island. The picture above is of the UNESCO World Heritage Site of Ragusa, high on the hills close to Catania in the southeastern corner of the country, just south of the Etna volcano. I say 'country' in the same way we refer to Wales or Scotland as countries - its story so different, its people so culturally identifiable, and yet its history significantly intertwined with that of mainland Italy. I was visiting an archaeological museum in Ragusa, this beautiful Baroque town, which is planning its transferral to a refurbished 4 floor convent complex.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">While there, I learnt a lot about the philosophy of conservation as it is described and regulated by the Sopraintendenza. This is the regional representative office of the Italian Ministry of Culture, whose function it is to regulate historic conservation on listed buildings, protect built heritage, carry out major surveys, put a leash on architects, manage many of the museums and monuments with nationally significant collections, promote and fund exhibitions, manage the multiple conservation and restoration academies spread around Italy, cooperate with the police forces dedicated to stopping the illegal trafficking of archaeological remains ... It is a very complex organisation, peopled by highly specialised experts, advisors, academics, with tortuous links to local and national politics, and what appears to be a very convoluted decision making process. Viewed by most Italians as a necessary evil that often is detrimental to their way of life because of its powers to stop building sites where there are historical remains – for indefinite periods, with little regard to the economic implications of such powers etc it is the only champion of heritage in the country. A necessary evil, as I say.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The particular building which will house the new archaeological museum survived the 1693 earthquake which wiped out most of this beautiful city - at the same time favouring its Baroque renaissance. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:medium;">In Italy all architectural interventions on listed buildings have to be identifiable and reversible, the Sopraintendente told me.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13.3333px; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvG_lHpu_iJk3BW0VrmIgsNOTX4x7rZ76dzxdWZa6vWhFycZUf8n2rSUnoOtY2vxvvHHU_3kCJ6-hNV4NGyNReq2nE5bTLUpFIbXInpjIEMz2uN9M_pk0Db4PWO8_z4JokeNZlbyXrxhKG/s1600/red+brick.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvG_lHpu_iJk3BW0VrmIgsNOTX4x7rZ76dzxdWZa6vWhFycZUf8n2rSUnoOtY2vxvvHHU_3kCJ6-hNV4NGyNReq2nE5bTLUpFIbXInpjIEMz2uN9M_pk0Db4PWO8_z4JokeNZlbyXrxhKG/s320/red+brick.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622952457799041330" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">So I looked around and saw a huge red brick wing, erected in 2001 to the side of the building to replace a wing that came down in the 1950s. Identifiable, certainly. Distinctly modern, definitely. A carbuncle? Prince Charles would agree. Reversible? Was it reversible? I asked. (Ie - could we pull it down?) Absolutely not, came the answer - that would be perceived to be using public monies to undo what public monies ten years ago were spent doing up. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Aha I said. </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Not</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> reversible then.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p>B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-89889900689825786942011-06-21T11:06:00.000-07:002011-06-23T14:23:28.434-07:00Excuse number 2: marketing the business<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO3WLs-IREGGtjdQCXeZL23RfzenBQAK_HCLCW6pdWQW_JjhhoeUWiYV2wSmw635NcW_ZcCKGKhIhw0O9_tCtHeH9Ar-pJv4fgLpR1-FuuAXH7xga7_G4MT5x32Yb46EE05Me-nUoRAPf7/s1600/the+view+that+isn%2527t+there.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO3WLs-IREGGtjdQCXeZL23RfzenBQAK_HCLCW6pdWQW_JjhhoeUWiYV2wSmw635NcW_ZcCKGKhIhw0O9_tCtHeH9Ar-pJv4fgLpR1-FuuAXH7xga7_G4MT5x32Yb46EE05Me-nUoRAPf7/s320/the+view+that+isn%2527t+there.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620739781200294258" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a></div><div><div><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 10.0px Times; color:#1a1a18;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"></span></span></span></span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In the last year I have been trying to build up my business in heritage interpretation and museum development - and I should have blogged about the challenges throughout the process... don't remind me. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">The photograph above is a interpretation device which frames a "view that isn't there", ie a historic landscape that exists in a painting (reproduced below the frame) of the same spot that the viewer is staring at. I think it is a powerful symbol, in my business, of what Shan Preddy talks about in her book</span></span></span></span> <i>How To Run a Successful Design Business</i> - which came out earlier this year<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">. The importance of vision, of seeing things that might not be right there right now. Just keep staring into the frame, and remind yourself what it is you can see. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">For a budding business, this is a crucial lesson - and I have to remind myself every morning, at every meeting, on every project. </span></div><div><br /></div>Even though mine is not strictly speaking a design business Shan's insights into the sector in which I move - which involves working closely with designers and architects, as much as with curatorial and content driven people - are invaluable. She reminds her readers that the key to success lies somewhere between engaging freely in the unpredictable creative process of exhibition design and interpretation, and maintaining the rudder pointing straight in order to deliver successful projects, and ultimately make a financial breakthrough.</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">One key challenge in the creative world is the different skill sets involved in all aspects of the process: in interpretation, my challenge is to see beyond the detail of the academic expert and focus on the main message of communication; in planning terms, it means understanding who the audiences are, what they want, what they relate to, and what I can offer to engage them in something they might not be interested in; in design terms, the challenge is the coherence of logical/thematic and spatial values... different perspectives, different skills required to address them. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"></span></span><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(26, 26, 24); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(26, 26, 24); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">In terms of BT Museum Consultancy, my vision is to approach projects the way I have approached life: with a bilingual mentality, forever bouncing from the creative to the rigorous. Questions prompted in Shan's book, include -</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(26, 26, 24); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">• will the type of work I do be the same as now, or different?</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(26, 26, 24); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">• who will be on the client list? </span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(26, 26, 24); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">• where will the business be located?</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(26, 26, 24); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">• what skills, qualities and seniority do I need for staff?</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(26, 26, 24); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">• what is my personal commitment to the business in terms of my role? </span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></i></span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">A lot of these questions are still open ended - and maybe they should remain so in order to be useful as business development tools. </span></span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">The vision for BT Museum Consultancy however, in general, is to grow into a leading interpretation consultancy, across Europe, providing strategic advice for museum and heritage development. In countries - including Italy - where interpretation is a word used only in relation to translators, I would like to see it understood as the only way of engaging visitors, as part of the core business of heritage attractions - putting communication at the core of what museums / parks / archaeological sites / industrial heritage attractions... do. </span></span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">In terms of expanding the business, my last few years sitting on the Committee for London of the Heritage Lottery Fund, deciding on projects in this great city that are worthy of receiving funding from the National Lottery, has made me reflect significantly on the public use of monies, as well as what the criteria for awarding those monies should cover. </span></span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">This amazing city has more museums and galleries than Paris and New York combined! A dozen historic palaces; 2,500 historic green spaces; 15 million international visits and a population set to rise by 1.25 million people in the next 20 years... its creative and cultural sector employs more than half a million people, making it London's 3rd largest employment sector. And yet, establishment culture does not reflect the diverse make up of the population, the projects that come to HLF for funding don't reflect the variety of the peoples who live here. </span></span></i></span></div><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Trebuchet MS";color:#333399"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; ">Any other suggestions for business development?!</span></span></i></span></div></span></span><p></p></div></div>B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-60208984679870843342011-06-20T09:36:00.001-07:002011-06-20T15:53:41.156-07:00Excuse number 1: the FIAT 500<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2kU9WghRgGWecO2OX7AHNIgaNU-jiNGYmC0c0VgWEVzySWPayni0CEhjmZpdy8UINifRqmOpn0FM-1YjUojs9AF1Gw8ehOd0M1TTIhmV9coUkJEaNI7oBW4-n4qesON9zBhKADyICRA6o/s1600/Bianca+2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2kU9WghRgGWecO2OX7AHNIgaNU-jiNGYmC0c0VgWEVzySWPayni0CEhjmZpdy8UINifRqmOpn0FM-1YjUojs9AF1Gw8ehOd0M1TTIhmV9coUkJEaNI7oBW4-n4qesON9zBhKADyICRA6o/s320/Bianca+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620438728043823154" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">This car has the same age as me. Her name is Bianca, and she lives on a farmhouse in Apulia in Southern Italy. Now, I am not oversensitive about cars, or engines, or technical stuff, but - how can you not love her? She is compact, friendly, very fuel and space efficient, and was designed by someone called Dante, in the 1950s. Driving her is like driving your sofa... a comfortable seat with wheels and a teeny engine. She is as much a part of Italian industrial heritage as well as a key ingredient of Italian common phantasy. A recent PhD thesis at the University of Urbino states that: </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"The </span></i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 13px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Fiat 500 is much more than a car. The car is a synonym for Italian-ness, design, freedom, youth, love, work, the future, children"</span></i></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 13px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 13px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 13px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">All still recognisable as key values for Italian society past and present. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Driving her around the countryside was the most enjoyable experience of the last year. The relationship between this car and its memory is an emotional, Italian thing. And yet - this is probably the only car that has gone round the London Eye in one of its capsules - the official UK launch of the new 500, in 2008. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 10px; font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 10px; font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21.6px; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQqtFilOfcHRgTVlvsxvNGL955_-BqMIRjfmraMY2eOeIVa4ztZL_hl5cTP2k2gLa59JGan81HPr7PPESqZwRDUrsw6Z3HPtsOHvG2ks4tw_S4S0L0gblstgz1bPF97YKuaslJZyn8ctXT/s1600/Park+Lane+sculpture.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQqtFilOfcHRgTVlvsxvNGL955_-BqMIRjfmraMY2eOeIVa4ztZL_hl5cTP2k2gLa59JGan81HPr7PPESqZwRDUrsw6Z3HPtsOHvG2ks4tw_S4S0L0gblstgz1bPF97YKuaslJZyn8ctXT/s320/Park+Lane+sculpture.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620438719595731794" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 266px; " /></a></span></span></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">It is uncanny, but a model of the FIAT 500 (Cinquecento in Italian) is also displayed on Park Lane in central London - as a public art initiative for the city of London in the run up to the Olympic games in 2012. Designed by Italian sculptor Lorenzo Quinn, its title is "Vroom Vroom" - the cartoony sound effect or onomatopaeia which in Italian indicates an engine revving up. A tiny little car, put in perspective by that huge hand. What a wonderful sculpture, what a wonderful little car - truly, it gave me back a sense of unadulterated fun!</span></span></div></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></span></div>B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-78542056800523758512011-06-20T09:19:00.000-07:002011-06-20T09:35:27.844-07:00Where have I been this last year?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHjDbNMp8bo99l8UIrRoW7TjsWOzG78sVBiuJgSAbcTen_aa9ak1JWMzBebc8A9rxVitydPBNWzoPpQVUeANQ7WNTQtaOGEhFA-Bqqt22wz7libQQuJc1oautNEJRP4yW4aUzQR5TmzQ61/s1600/driving+into+the+future.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHjDbNMp8bo99l8UIrRoW7TjsWOzG78sVBiuJgSAbcTen_aa9ak1JWMzBebc8A9rxVitydPBNWzoPpQVUeANQ7WNTQtaOGEhFA-Bqqt22wz7libQQuJc1oautNEJRP4yW4aUzQR5TmzQ61/s320/driving+into+the+future.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620341370848891282" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div>For some reason, June has got me excited about museums and heritage once again. So apologies to my one reader for having absconded for the last year, but here are my top five excuses why that has happened. </span><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">1. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';">learning to drive a vintage 1973 FIAT 500 - the photo above is called DRIVING INTO THE FUTURE</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">2. marketing my interpretation planning business</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">3. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';">a new project in Ragusa - and my first time in Sicily! </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">4. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';">understanding why to be a businessperson in Italy you must also be a social entrepreneur </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">5. readin' readin' readin'...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Brief photographic posts will follow on each excuse. And so hopefully you will forgive and forget...my absence!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div></div>B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-70589471680537092702010-06-15T08:09:00.000-07:002010-06-15T12:38:29.475-07:00How architects view buildings – and how normal people understand them<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW1JxZzrsqSaX-9mDJYxqgwkZrI229fVxH2Ulw_WfbhQcvCD9du8CilhrCPtpRhbnKF3zxsrdQAKpNZM2rP_ZEN99EHZvf8yRVz3qz8_RQatQ3AeO5WUSx81JXxIPy_EXrQGc27L13Ggd5/s1600/IMG_3334.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW1JxZzrsqSaX-9mDJYxqgwkZrI229fVxH2Ulw_WfbhQcvCD9du8CilhrCPtpRhbnKF3zxsrdQAKpNZM2rP_ZEN99EHZvf8yRVz3qz8_RQatQ3AeO5WUSx81JXxIPy_EXrQGc27L13Ggd5/s320/IMG_3334.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483018844272428642" border="0" /></a><span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">As an interpretative planner, I work with architects on a day to day basis, on most of my projects: conservation architects, new build architects, signature architects, repair and restoration architects... I am intrigued by their inspired genius and also by their sometimes extraordinary lack of insight into how people who are not architects understand spaces. Actually, we don’t – and that’s the issue. People do not “understand” spaces – we do not tend to think conceptually about them. We inhabit them, we move through them, we are enveloped by them, and we generally think that a space that does not mould around us and change with us is...uncomfortable.<br /><br />The picture above shows the inside of the Beetle's House by Architect Terunobu Fujimori - which is as small as a sauna, and has a wonderful smell of charcoal. It is on display for active visitors who love rung ladders at the V&A.<br /></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">As visitors to museums and heritage sites, we browse around elements </span></span><span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">inside</span></span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> spaces, walk toward colour, are attracted by physical interventions within the space, we are magnetically drawn to sofas when we are tired, and to windows when we are lost – and none of these apply if we are accompanied by children or bored partners.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">This is why an interpretative designer, who designs to communicate, is generally more conscious of visitor interaction and patterns of behaviour than an architect. Interpretative designers </span></span><span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">choreograph</span></span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">the visitor experience within museums, galleries, heritage sites etc – they are less interested in iconic voids and structures, but more focused on understanding spaces as narrative environments – not just because they are full of stories (about objects and research) – but because they </span></span><span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">are</span></span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> the stories: those stories that unfold around the visitor, as he or she explores and brings them to life. The visitor with the Midas touch. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">At the V&A last night it was interesting to reflect on the architectural exhibition on the 4th floor. It functions as a continuation of the Architecture Galleries, but </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">it's about the temporary building installations within the Museum I mentioned in my previous blog.<br />It is an exhibition by architects for architects.<br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The exhibition presents a series of models. In essence, curatorially, it manages to enclose external models of buildings into glass showcases. The models are boxes, seen from outside, inside another sealed box, seen from outside – and through a glass screen. I am sure a postmodern philopspher would have an appropriate comment to make here.<br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSAtOz3bxSOOwcn8I-HPgjAQAb3UyH9pATqF5KAwhvrurenjKWtgV3S9YClyv3tWMyvO2rFtC4xtif5wTx2-5xFtGFIf9tPb7wmK3FM7TYygh4tgEMVn6wWKthTJu1iegCO7pgjV140Byw/s1600/IMG_3448.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSAtOz3bxSOOwcn8I-HPgjAQAb3UyH9pATqF5KAwhvrurenjKWtgV3S9YClyv3tWMyvO2rFtC4xtif5wTx2-5xFtGFIf9tPb7wmK3FM7TYygh4tgEMVn6wWKthTJu1iegCO7pgjV140Byw/s320/IMG_3448.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483018838520014930" border="0" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span><!--StartFragment--><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">What the exhibition does is to unwittingly confirm the introductory leaflet’s own critical view of what architecture exhibitions should </span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">not</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> do:</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; " align="center"><span><i><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Architecture is intrinsically part of our everyday experience. Yet architecture exhibitions, with their emphasis on drawings, models and photographs, sometimes deny their audience an engagement with actual buildings.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Aha!</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">So while attempting to subvert how we understand spaces by building climb-in full scale models to explore, the V&A seems to place at the heart of its interpretative effort when reflecting on its practice, a very traditional approach to buildings – seen (and presented to the public) as perfectly formed, miniature objects that you look at from outside. If you would like to see what I mean, applied to museums and heritage in general, google image any name of any museum/art gallery you might know – and I will buy you a coffee if your first image is not of a building, seen from outside.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">As an interpretative planner, I find working with interpretative designers an easier fit than working with architects as designers and communicators of content to visitors. Interpretative designers think of movement through museum spaces as a rhythmic beat, an evolving, diversely paced experience, with emotional highs and lows, dramatic surprises, points of suspension, intellectual climaxes and sensory features. All this is woven into the content of the Museum, inextricably. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I struggle with the view (some) architects have of architecture – which is just as well, since, at the end of the day, I am not an architect.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-42341240215964054302010-06-15T05:04:00.000-07:002010-06-15T08:08:33.026-07:001:1<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCmwG5_dsoAMUorJ_IoYsN420NjXu_nru7I9D4ej0H4nfZ8biNzuYDXYLpe-fI6-eLeeynn2Bs5Cehyphenhyphen006MQVbvin3rE-lTfmxWMH9jxGju29FrmHwA0wf4FnGjK2PXYXV9wDMCtDLIR41/s1600/IMG_3400.JPG"></a></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoUTV0eIsz8AiQ-9VL_Y850ogP0MNJTsGY9Ar3CQd6YRgck_RcCKPmxXqLP5UmYGp25o4ZzmEz-FvKs0yHucq_qk3ZgRFktEZOyDy_KJqfoFP5dThWBC4ZUsXcsoFTPo-8aOsH8vs6U7qJ/s1600/IMG_3398.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoUTV0eIsz8AiQ-9VL_Y850ogP0MNJTsGY9Ar3CQd6YRgck_RcCKPmxXqLP5UmYGp25o4ZzmEz-FvKs0yHucq_qk3ZgRFktEZOyDy_KJqfoFP5dThWBC4ZUsXcsoFTPo-8aOsH8vs6U7qJ/s320/IMG_3398.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483008813949256466" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNBWCe3S4zF6vzul9nOcfCxHxnwWUMUPu9t_4imLYIcP4OGILYuGN7M2joolVZkgQgNZFitbh1ofXkbnf0nfnMEpF1zD0JyonxhWxtbSNAhn3fQhvwCqdEEFRthF_xEWz_Y90HnDiU_g6X/s1600/IMG_3341.JPG"></a></span></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Yesterday evening I attended the opening of the free exhibition <b>1:1 Architects Build Small Spaces at the V&A</b>, on until August 30. The exhibition features seven full scale installations of mini buildings at key points in the Museum: inside the newly opened Cast Courts gallery, inside the stairwell that leads to the National Art Library, in the John Madejski gardens, in the inside/outside space of the new Medieval and Renaissance Galleries of which I have already posted a blog, outside the Architecture Galleries on the fourth floor, and in the entrance foyer.</span></span></div> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> I was quite happy to wonder away from the star studded champagne-drinking crowd. This was an exciting mix of architects, fashionistas, designers and creative professionals, cultural trendy characters – the V&A’s secret visitors, those whom you would not catch sight of in the middle of a Saturday afternoon looking lost and slightly overwhelmed… but who turn up at the glitzy events.</span></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzdTuzkXyLxekV9k6PNOTK1kzqQRU7S6RbqF6eJnsL9PusaMIrfAlxz14nB0xaGVvy4U28HT8pQ21lYEiLOGiPrdfG6HfXyoGgP8UTc70cJ3yZpHEdBCLVseqsI-oVAOdohaSv7R_0Vc-H/s320/IMG_3451.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483004042228356082" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">All the structures can be climbed into – although bare feet are required in some – they have restricted capacity, sometimes for only 6 people at one time, and the wooden bookshelf building by Norwegian architects Rintala Eggertsson on 3 floors is wobbly when you get to the top. Which makes for a slightly seasick reading experience, but a visually exciting and imaginative connection between the inside of the house and the see-through bookshelves through which you stare at the National Art Library. I peeked through the books while holding onto the real stairwell banister – and the quote was... appropriate:</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja9aQEtCHDZKjQNjh0v1lBGeAuyRJDYllSn5WcdRJXsdy8nfLxX8D4XP0h0d9qH8uplvvHdQtUYKWgCD3bj6jAblIPQrc9HTVI909Ed3yYN7G9RnX-Nb8DsEJAC6JI0nqaa8ufUFON-0iX/s1600/IMG_3384.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja9aQEtCHDZKjQNjh0v1lBGeAuyRJDYllSn5WcdRJXsdy8nfLxX8D4XP0h0d9qH8uplvvHdQtUYKWgCD3bj6jAblIPQrc9HTVI909Ed3yYN7G9RnX-Nb8DsEJAC6JI0nqaa8ufUFON-0iX/s320/IMG_3384.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483001408937105538" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></p> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGYNAupQvOPtl3S7z8NeNEePkpqV1PLb0RURRgaJpLE60KTsa3kJPQG2ENz_F6UDTzca2L_eVSwEFAL6QgSjX0LBVc3CZSh-yL22ACJyGF4KHcLSt37U6w8SRIhboSbFTbAN83LFBLEbtL/s1600/IMG_3425.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGYNAupQvOPtl3S7z8NeNEePkpqV1PLb0RURRgaJpLE60KTsa3kJPQG2ENz_F6UDTzca2L_eVSwEFAL6QgSjX0LBVc3CZSh-yL22ACJyGF4KHcLSt37U6w8SRIhboSbFTbAN83LFBLEbtL/s320/IMG_3425.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482988589098019522" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">A surreal moment. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I found the Beetle’s House by Japanese Architect Terunobu Fujimori an exciting intervention for it seems to tug at our heartstrings, and it </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">reminded me</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> of something I have never actually built or owned personally – a tree house, a primeval children’s adventure.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNBWCe3S4zF6vzul9nOcfCxHxnwWUMUPu9t_4imLYIcP4OGILYuGN7M2joolVZkgQgNZFitbh1ofXkbnf0nfnMEpF1zD0JyonxhWxtbSNAhn3fQhvwCqdEEFRthF_xEWz_Y90HnDiU_g6X/s320/IMG_3341.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483008790648160610" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The outdoor Ratatosk by Norwegian Architects Helen and Hard was great for people watching, and struck me as very empathetic to the extraordinary red brick facades with their Victorian Gothic arches which surround it. (The snapshot of the yellow heel which opens this blog belonged to a lady who was picking her way carefully over the soft cushion platform made from wood and bark chips on which the structure sits.)</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCmwG5_dsoAMUorJ_IoYsN420NjXu_nru7I9D4ej0H4nfZ8biNzuYDXYLpe-fI6-eLeeynn2Bs5Cehyphenhyphen006MQVbvin3rE-lTfmxWMH9jxGju29FrmHwA0wf4FnGjK2PXYXV9wDMCtDLIR41/s320/IMG_3400.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483008817839219202" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">In terms of the politics of space - and I base this on my viewing of the drawings and visuals from all the entries which are on display in the Architecture Gallery on the 4th floor - I think the original competition may have asked architects to visualise their minibuilding in one of the premium spaces of the Cast Courts – next to the plaster cast of Michelangelo’s David. This statue, which stands at 17 feet tall (5.7m), was the first major cast in the Museum’s collection, and is one of my true loves - the first picture below shows it before the 1:1 installation.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix6bGNlyV2dWtO0OpMYjookvgHdFEbtH_TzHQFp40mCVpAMnshAk2sK32Hpwyelg9fDw6go76CBLubywsfzQFfT_Hx2jlvvpwFaVtYlVp55f2VPW6qlFViwiYSqtPHPdTcrzh1irmCJxZL/s320/MICHELANGELO_David_cast_Victoria_and_Albert_source_sandstead_d2h_0005.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483004040521825906" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 205px; height: 320px; " /></span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The installation that has landed what I consider to be the prize spot is by Indian Architects Studio Mumbai. It takes inspiration from the so called unauthorized structures that exist in Mumbai, narrow slithers of buildings “</span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">basically sandwiched between the outside wall of a warehouse and the boundary wall of a property”. (The images below are from the audiovisual in the entrance foyer - and express the architectural inspiration.)</span></span></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:12.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpoxj9kfbO19eiqJIgXtQDlJ_RY03Hb3JFN3MqjYOToTXSzyXsXY-H53nmud33g-0qa4dcVdAFKiFPSP05jPz-7hyA8PyPFdZRQihtXXhpAqac6zknrxSgFmNUuuv9Q5ut9gYEBez8-Ub7/s1600/IMG_3434.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpoxj9kfbO19eiqJIgXtQDlJ_RY03Hb3JFN3MqjYOToTXSzyXsXY-H53nmud33g-0qa4dcVdAFKiFPSP05jPz-7hyA8PyPFdZRQihtXXhpAqac6zknrxSgFmNUuuv9Q5ut9gYEBez8-Ub7/s320/IMG_3434.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482975581432139778" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyYNzmBSeN7mFsEEqagRcblh-BBuW2ZrszrMqiIoPjJPjEMEoYxqPA2CvHZPYqExBgicV8ZdMEHsCqkpUWm2Y5wYCNvgoE24Pp6wCstKZDrZfHC6fX4J8XkvADvXeMhTq39zz76JXZCFGa/s1600/IMG_3432.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyYNzmBSeN7mFsEEqagRcblh-BBuW2ZrszrMqiIoPjJPjEMEoYxqPA2CvHZPYqExBgicV8ZdMEHsCqkpUWm2Y5wYCNvgoE24Pp6wCstKZDrZfHC6fX4J8XkvADvXeMhTq39zz76JXZCFGa/s320/IMG_3432.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482975574406420818" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; "></span></span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtwG5pAR-xjL7zJFZOnPXBSfJKhQs0cZtJhjRBXiSj5XTm4TsqYWpv3rbwPsFy4OdDG3gvU0ymOi9N_8nHVZxP-yA6ubQsncmSIctwuzpH1d9QnQfhPWjgqfC77-CZJeeDXmOexW96CiT5/s320/IMG_3437.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482975587915212178" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"></span></span></o:p></p><p></p></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The location of the structure - called In Between Architecture - in the Cast Court seems to create an unexpected conversation between two opposing ideas of public space: that defined on the one hand as the grand, sun filled, open piazza in Renaissance Florence, and on the other by the circulation thoroughfares in Mumbai today, that run through private dwellings, in between spaces, drawing the light in from slits above. Private spaces that symbolise the pressures on public space. (This is a view from the inside of the structure looking up - a plaster cast of a real tree, an organic form absorbed within the concrete shape sits central to the building.)</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQvn6gzgX4_tBH5epE-fwIWpan8H78LdCfT0OsIHtyWWGy5nu03_1_AqLkD7PUUOEzMsAhKAfm8SmJdVCrUs2IPpZHVQjT2BKXL4wV9eDI-sgFGQlAorZzRpaDcJ9eqn8BxE9Eq12ALhR6/s1600/IMG_3355.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQvn6gzgX4_tBH5epE-fwIWpan8H78LdCfT0OsIHtyWWGy5nu03_1_AqLkD7PUUOEzMsAhKAfm8SmJdVCrUs2IPpZHVQjT2BKXL4wV9eDI-sgFGQlAorZzRpaDcJ9eqn8BxE9Eq12ALhR6/s320/IMG_3355.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483008796122807842" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', serif; font-size: medium; ">David stands taller than the structure, seeming to contemplate it with a certain wariness – and the dialogue is electrifying. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig8rqeTe6XxXHlvBcTrLucfDbVKkp6cA_7QF7vItGNSxmrU_CZF2cFT8m9EVrYK05Em7W6TyOXnKIgH8nPuDxqttzcrqZaDJ605PLQodJbgL0MxI-eL4Tuarv44zRcvthol-BHRtLYhap7/s320/IMG_3367.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483004054663079586" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">If you're in London, go and see it. If not, the website is: http://www.vam.ac.uk/collections/architecture/smallspaces/index.html</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">And... on a final note.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Walking past the V&A’s enormous halls in the evening, peering into the darkened galleries, contemplating the sleeping showcases and the objects inside them, quiet and still, is a beautiful, calming experience. I enjoyed this as much as the structures – and the other stunning architectural specimens which seem passé, redundant giants: the cast of Trajan’s Column for example, unceremoniously chopped into half to fit the void. What wonderful places museums are!</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisklZoL1P5L1Q20bqRspMfZwHJaphi6thRuhFXr-QkU16j22Tk934MUQS9Hc-UNThEOT3_2imm9XXE1-A6V_LiIYv0mjkUw3Ze57wAtPzk0YBMA9U542qGhDim93kxYOsVjuaJUgs8_de3/s1600/IMG_3368.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisklZoL1P5L1Q20bqRspMfZwHJaphi6thRuhFXr-QkU16j22Tk934MUQS9Hc-UNThEOT3_2imm9XXE1-A6V_LiIYv0mjkUw3Ze57wAtPzk0YBMA9U542qGhDim93kxYOsVjuaJUgs8_de3/s320/IMG_3368.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483008804452409938" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQvn6gzgX4_tBH5epE-fwIWpan8H78LdCfT0OsIHtyWWGy5nu03_1_AqLkD7PUUOEzMsAhKAfm8SmJdVCrUs2IPpZHVQjT2BKXL4wV9eDI-sgFGQlAorZzRpaDcJ9eqn8BxE9Eq12ALhR6/s1600/IMG_3355.JPG"></a></span></span><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMV0OO8qh0EUPvIQk-o284faw_rFO7BH5VuuSTC6OMtefd5RTDCP2-CiLmt3IMu1wcGjLpsxX8pUPPB-R0eC6xVRAO87Rf5ZlLTwMgFT9Gj1BGHBFxyWqwjo8L3uXeNDwFODANow8HCrNC/s1600/IMG_3352.JPG"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-87782121259767888462010-05-26T11:49:00.000-07:002010-05-26T12:05:07.252-07:00Highlights from a National Correspondent<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBd3pv8DvcnJc0oNIqu95uK5JDFJeuXewx_wq1eaxj5n4mSPWKofpkrRKmzmiUdIqG6Blv4i8VExv_GZl4yGMa-ZpzeuzrTHRSlF3cNn2fObWrHdeuhzgt1Bw51zdvlMspVBBuHGdYHBvJ/s1600/Tampere+cascade.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBd3pv8DvcnJc0oNIqu95uK5JDFJeuXewx_wq1eaxj5n4mSPWKofpkrRKmzmiUdIqG6Blv4i8VExv_GZl4yGMa-ZpzeuzrTHRSlF3cNn2fObWrHdeuhzgt1Bw51zdvlMspVBBuHGdYHBvJ/s320/Tampere+cascade.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475654586487298210" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Just back from a long week in Finland where I was attending the European Museum of the Year Award. This same event started me blogging about a year ago – so it is time for celebrations as an eventful year rolls around, and a thank you to followers of this blog who are so patient with its inconsistencies and randomnic posts.</span></span></div> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Cheers!</span></span></i></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> – or, as I learnt from my Estonian colleagues: </span></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">terviseks</span></span></i></span><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">, which stands for </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">health and sex!</span></span></i></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The event is a highlight of my professional year – and it was absolutely wonderful this year, full of exciting professionals and creative thinkers. Tampere is a small city, called the Manchester of the North for its textile industry. The industrial area founded by the Scotsman James Finlayson bears his name to this day and has been wonderfully readapted as a multifunctional cultural, cinema, restaurant, exhibition quarter. 210,000 people live in Tampere, and there are 100 museums (!!) including the only extant Lenin Museum in the world. As the Mayor of the City mentioned during an opening speech, Finland's rapid progress as a post industrial economy is founded on its profound respect for its industrial heritage, and its ability to transform them into new and inventive public places. The whole experience made for a certain self satisfied, mouth watering museum glut – for which I do not apologise.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwf-XAYDJAsnGBdPA9U5QydGkt8QhIofPWuiBfxoshEibw0pXmFFWaBsG2-FRZoAu_eWjv_VPSWIygvjorIf6phVZeqjQ0QtZvEKI5oaSLMBeBsmLdCHkpRhES3LMGW43BLmoBkgVwjgnR/s320/Hilden+previous.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475653591313366770" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I was overjoyed to be offered to become the UK National Correspondent for the European Museum Forum, the organisation that awards the prize annually. I walked into the Sara Hilden Modern Art Gallery in Tampere on Thursday night, a normal person – and came out two hours later honoured by the title. (The photograph above relates to a previous visit to the Gallery).</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Talk about the transformative power of museums!</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">My role will be that of encouraging UK museums to apply for the award and generally make intelligent connections between them and the European museum network. So let’s hear it for diminished isolation of the British museum scene from our European counterparts! </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Terviseks!</span></span></i></span><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:11.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-40381557835246792802010-03-24T14:23:00.000-07:002010-03-24T16:49:18.915-07:00Architecture of Science<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwPn9TSOx9XKni35c9F2JxDnqFjShjz7xzdPPuu_ZprRHDdjgZe_WAVYS3mL5gPUi81V2seaPipV2nbWf0lqYZRCSjc4PkVITe_721kGXYMFZSEP_9Rmlrc8S1u1uFuOODn4y9hHmxLbbg/s1600/where+do+you+start.JPG"></a></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-6WT6__MxaqttNpi4dUnZRYbfI2qmGANW1ugskR-S4jgMJazZmZXxcLSfoPxUV6P-_RHtF-pfDyFn4eE9reloak2HCKnJfX2IjPCum6BPBSMnxI_jc600oQyx0e6x36UJIvdHRg3fBUkF/s1600/Cocoon.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-6WT6__MxaqttNpi4dUnZRYbfI2qmGANW1ugskR-S4jgMJazZmZXxcLSfoPxUV6P-_RHtF-pfDyFn4eE9reloak2HCKnJfX2IjPCum6BPBSMnxI_jc600oQyx0e6x36UJIvdHRg3fBUkF/s320/Cocoon.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452333449407327618" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW2hb1Ou0fuUGrpjmzl22j3s0i8Ls1IzexmGWgqzlfFdTnjKnuLqu-uysRB-92c4aXWPsDVpW2FXO71-w-kuWpeUa9u1m7yWwreTOzZb6WiU9JjrRJPFHj7C28Xb2_yjm0w_-Xv99K3Psh/s1600/another+cocoon+-+butterfly+exhibit.jpg"></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">I was invited to the Natural History Museum's showcasing of its new Cocoon structure - an organically shaped, white, seven floor high 'pod' encased by the Darwin Centre, the Museum's new extension to the west of the Cromwell Road entrance. The Darwin Centre is the first new build on the site since 1881 when the Museum moved here - it cost £78 million and took three years to build. It is quite impressive, although not totally original. Designed by </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">C. F. Møller Architects of Denmark, architecturally it echoes other iconic scientific institutions - the dome above the Smithsonian Natural History Museum on the Washington Mall,but more specifically the renowned Butterfly Pavilion contained within:</span></span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW2hb1Ou0fuUGrpjmzl22j3s0i8Ls1IzexmGWgqzlfFdTnjKnuLqu-uysRB-92c4aXWPsDVpW2FXO71-w-kuWpeUa9u1m7yWwreTOzZb6WiU9JjrRJPFHj7C28Xb2_yjm0w_-Xv99K3Psh/s320/another+cocoon+-+butterfly+exhibit.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452332637100937778" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">...as well as a curious experiment at the Centre of the Cell, an interactive science experience for schools, designed by Will Alsop within the Medical Research Building of Queen Mary College in east London:</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhDGegPVIdx839cSi6FFv9Rapl0XGMhTsuL-6qz4hD15sAdS88fX5Px3c30act0hpTA6vjDAxClGXrf4TxOc3xBdSnRp4wQuU6LoDyDb2mb-6CpkYbYHqRaU7eowi_34N7wBC56EJtShgU/s320/another+cocoon+the+pod+at+Centre+for+the+cell.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452332647739453234" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /> </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">The pod shape, the organic cocoon, is obviously an inspiration for scientific architecture worldwide. The Cocoon enwraps the huge Spirit collection - so called not because of any ghostly Victorian reminiscence but because the 20 million historic specimens of botany and entomology (plants and insects to you and me) were and are conserved in 'spirit' - jars containing preservation fluids. It must have been the most inflammable piece of real estate in Victorian London! </span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">The Cocoon itself resembles nothing as much as a huge dinosaur egg waiting to hatch. What strikes me is how well scientific content is explored within. Circulation through a ramp down 3 floors is punctuated by incredibly beautiful showcases with specimens pinned into the glass panes. The design language seems to preserve the beauty of nature as intact as possible - I seemed to be breathing outdoors, the colours and the freshness of the specimens on show bringing to mind simply the freshness of life and nature outside. </span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: normal; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwPn9TSOx9XKni35c9F2JxDnqFjShjz7xzdPPuu_ZprRHDdjgZe_WAVYS3mL5gPUi81V2seaPipV2nbWf0lqYZRCSjc4PkVITe_721kGXYMFZSEP_9Rmlrc8S1u1uFuOODn4y9hHmxLbbg/s320/where+do+you+start.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452343652299661298" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">This is quite a feat - to maintain intact the beauty of nature while dissecting it. High tech interactives accompany interpretative insights into the processes of science as a human endeavour - visitors can peek at scientists poring over their research benches and all interpretation - down to the voice in the lift - is delivered by real scientists at the NHM. This is a solid attempt at demistifying science and positioning it in the minds of youngsters and adults alike as human activity. It is refreshing, interpretatively successful and while targetting a younger audience not simplistic or juvenile.</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRuhFIaOufX1XWV7K7tLXXhJgOw11_kXNgC_-KJKcGXBWsJjkfkFmj62-AVfjeRh17nr8OCiKRtKteSBhIJ42A6a8_8oHaFgQUcq8W1XPv8gpICjsmXJ75bf68Ojd9fqxI9sODCoVeLlT3/s320/scientists+at+work.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452345850579446978" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">And humour comes in handy, too, in the overarching interpretative approach. The installation I photographed below focuses on a very simple but crucial scientific challenge - that of categorisation. At school we learnt about taxonomy through the study of heavy Latin texts - the Linnean system of </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">Regnum Animale, Vegetabile et Lapideum</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">. From there, the levels were divided into classes, and again into orders genera and species. But the relevance of this was never obvious enough to turn the lesson into something more interesting than a mnemonic exercise. But we categorise and organise every single instant of our lives. By colour, material, shape or sound; by cost, feel, or relevance to the moment... in what we do, or choose to wear; in whom we do what with, in where we go and why. Clusters of complex reasoning, instantaneous decisions made and then reviewed continuously. This process is captured in the miscellaneous selection of unrelated objects displayed in this showcase. By simply surprising our logic capability, it challenges our thinking. Why are these things displayed together? In a sense, it captures the very essence of museological display. </span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; line-height: normal; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8G3m2stXDZ94FFok97HrFTRt7MflTdms-HdcisgCzXikvDx_nc-l-draeVEjmFPi1ucFV8yLU3hJJ_a4WsRZHoxYbaI8somcskZZwyDQMGk6xCey2nb2Z3sFY2DPNe83ru6gMNH8FKTfi/s320/cataloguing.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452345851390237602" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div>B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-82616926288804383882010-02-12T07:50:00.001-08:002010-02-12T08:04:53.483-08:00Personnes, Paris<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCbBfZQl4JaLa3ayooUqOD5vmuxpvCd6X528M-TDTWH7LQ-vpmA978Z95fOLg_zyMofbbmckgAdBnK_UeRdYDYW79lQ5FGP5YlAWFD_Uk4qqHjUWanvVI2eEjx5d1F5UDR3afSbdA-jid5/s1600-h/IMG_1995.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCbBfZQl4JaLa3ayooUqOD5vmuxpvCd6X528M-TDTWH7LQ-vpmA978Z95fOLg_zyMofbbmckgAdBnK_UeRdYDYW79lQ5FGP5YlAWFD_Uk4qqHjUWanvVI2eEjx5d1F5UDR3afSbdA-jid5/s320/IMG_1995.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437388381486292626" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuNqKo_4vV-ZS6uDcqmusl-69BDi-4QdNkOdP3J9Ah6tso8Oj5l0BWARgXdm5oyEZEyFpBA_tzJ_tG2mvuaeUZkmSR-AS_iVJJ5OhxRRPjQVyXWG27ZqxEL-BXzg67JKSOu4ISTobMF9AK/s1600-h/IMG_1985.JPG"></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;">There is something very powerful about walking into huge industrial cathedrals of a bygone era – such as abandoned steelworks, or the vast voids of Battersea Power Station on London’s Southbank, or Tate Modern’s Turbine Hall. The Grand Palais in Paris, which I visited for the first time the last weekend, is one such space, devoted to contemporary art.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuNqKo_4vV-ZS6uDcqmusl-69BDi-4QdNkOdP3J9Ah6tso8Oj5l0BWARgXdm5oyEZEyFpBA_tzJ_tG2mvuaeUZkmSR-AS_iVJJ5OhxRRPjQVyXWG27ZqxEL-BXzg67JKSOu4ISTobMF9AK/s1600-h/IMG_1985.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuNqKo_4vV-ZS6uDcqmusl-69BDi-4QdNkOdP3J9Ah6tso8Oj5l0BWARgXdm5oyEZEyFpBA_tzJ_tG2mvuaeUZkmSR-AS_iVJJ5OhxRRPjQVyXWG27ZqxEL-BXzg67JKSOu4ISTobMF9AK/s320/IMG_1985.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437386978514995010" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a></span></span></div><div> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It houses Christian Boltanski’s latest installation for Monumenta 2010 – an annual review of art. </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Personnes</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> can only be described as a reflection on death. As a visitor, you go through a cursory security check, then walk into a rusting wall of numbered boxes set as a barrier in front of your path – you are obliged to walk around it, under its haunting light bulbs. The bulbs, peculiarly reminiscent of those hanging around the fences of concentration camps, were the first indicators, to me, that I was stepping into an installation about death.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFGfPd9VTp43xRAPMjjYGr-NpjY1ko3qDuXg7y3beVdXhZr5UflbX4ooboB0kycvE6gJfdYtrhKc6rIoQgoW0LgHAVqy7LfkvljPp7AAsM0KPr3pn9g3aR3ciyBEwaycOnm3VR9a8QAR-e/s320/IMG_2005.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437386973132795714" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">With a post modern sense of shock, I became aware of being – not </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">feeling</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, but </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">being</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> – incredibly lonely in this too-large-to-be-crowded space. Watching people take pictures of each other in front of the huge mound of worn clothes was eery. On the other hand, I felt a sudden warm and irresistible connection to the little kid who picked up her younger toddler brother and pretended to throw him onto the pile – to his immense delight.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1le5azKFToAND3f5o5LA1N-nRjDp0aGFINTFiEGnlrRZHHMZaUhPSvnakx4JLyPWPs5S-Tgp-kpk2E2hAR1fxorw8d1aU0G-Tj78TVdTPwaRE_HxzZ8Kdx2_lkkDbHr76jRARNIoS0VkK/s320/IMG_2003.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437386963863109858" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The framed quandrangle spaces are much more individual – fewer people walk there, they walk alone, and they walk in silence, as if among gravestones. Those empty clothes, laid out on their front, all pointing forwards, toward the huge mound, don’t resemble corpses at all – but seem to touch a deep fear inside us, of anonymity, genocide, impersonal death by number.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSUMDoG7DsYhvc07ybAEsNhyphenhyphenPcRai1S0RwJheaYJbEzTuDUPGtSyZhTlXWlwlxBUczuqqZfrzNyZsGiB0-m4AS3MF8feDBzK0JRp9EdyjSyhH8aF3GUI56Rcqj_HjZL97ei-4N8iLo44KU/s1600-h/IMG_1986.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSUMDoG7DsYhvc07ybAEsNhyphenhyphenPcRai1S0RwJheaYJbEzTuDUPGtSyZhTlXWlwlxBUczuqqZfrzNyZsGiB0-m4AS3MF8feDBzK0JRp9EdyjSyhH8aF3GUI56Rcqj_HjZL97ei-4N8iLo44KU/s320/IMG_1986.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437385401280154434" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The huge industrial crane that supposedly picks up the clothes from the mound and drops them haphazardly, indicating the randomness of death, was not working when we visited. But the experience was intense, desolate, and I rather imagined its terrifying robotic movement like the breathing of this installation – more terrible than if it had been working.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We walked out very quietly, moved and troubled. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div>B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-37993634512832972562010-01-03T04:43:00.000-08:002010-01-03T04:57:23.565-08:00Becoming a Possibilian in 2010<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 17px; font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhshKXWr7lvZpD_5ZW6ACKGUCK8b7_Hb8oy_jEw03fusknuVCU8hjsENNHgjPIl75BXMV3YaWx5SaBAi8UmRTS9pbe0jGiRaG7RVTMntqnGfUuVD9xosvvv6ZEKUvvoyp79ZboC-PkCSSOT/s1600/_LargeSwallows+12ins.+WV.jpg" style="color: rgb(102, 153, 204); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhshKXWr7lvZpD_5ZW6ACKGUCK8b7_Hb8oy_jEw03fusknuVCU8hjsENNHgjPIl75BXMV3YaWx5SaBAi8UmRTS9pbe0jGiRaG7RVTMntqnGfUuVD9xosvvv6ZEKUvvoyp79ZboC-PkCSSOT/s320/_LargeSwallows+12ins.+WV.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408845496178509922" style="border-top-style: solid; border-right-style: solid; border-bottom-style: solid; border-left-style: solid; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; padding-top: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; border-top-width: 1px; border-top-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-left-width: 1px; border-left-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom-color: rgb(192, 192, 192); border-right-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(192, 192, 192); display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The Jill Magid exhibition called </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Authority to Remove</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> - which finishes today at Tate Modern - is a brilliant reflection on the possible relationships between art and secrets, between artistic freedom and institutional power. Tate describes the exhibition thus:</span></span></span><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Authority to Remove</span></span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> marks the final chapter of American artist Jill Magid's long involvement with the Dutch secret service, the AIVD. In 2005, she was commissioned by the AIVD (De Algemene Inlichtingen en Veiligheidsdienst) to create an artwork for their new headquarters. This unlikely-seeming invitation came about as the result of a stipulation under Dutch law that a portion of the budget for the new building be spent on an art commission.</span></span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">In her notes, the artist recounts the process of becoming art thus:</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We want you to think of the book as an object of art. We will redact it and put it inside the vitrine with your notebooks where it will remain, permanently.</span></span></span></span></div><div><div class="block" style="display: block; clear: both; width: 710px; "><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">You want me to put it under glass </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">so that it will no longer function </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">as a book but as a sculpture?</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Yes. He blinks his eyes rapidly.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"></span></span></span><em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It becomes an object of art</span></span></span></em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The Director follows this in a soft,</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> imploring voice. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"></span></span></span><em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Will you consider that, Jill?'</span></span></span></em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(from the Epilogue p. 187)</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">By displaying her novel as a sculpture on a plinth, </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">in compliance with the Dutch secret service's </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">request, Magid's book is transformed </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">from a narrative into an art object. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Displayed in this way, it can no longer be read, </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">its secrets secure. The body of the book ripped </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">from spine becomes a metaphor for the </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">artist's experience – she has surrendered her first</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> novel but how can she surrender her memory?</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaD2FUtucMPMpFtIwFzvXPBUWDCTUo1B4u5zBsyUEuoPymYBD3KRd56DaJpQf7ou5UHpEsreFdlE197LmxI6h72-jUQHcL-0qJ7za_EntCjY5TQfAVI-0VKe9xOzIiM_meiUtku6FWZdQ1/s320/book.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422490997031467538" style="text-align: left;border-top-style: solid; border-right-style: solid; border-bottom-style: solid; border-left-style: solid; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; padding-top: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; border-top-width: 1px; border-top-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-left-width: 1px; border-left-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom-color: rgb(192, 192, 192); border-right-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(192, 192, 192); display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px; " /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The exhibition got me thinking about the gaps, the missing bits </span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">in our text of life, the things we don't understand, the photographic </span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">negatives</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> - the black silhouettes of experience, I guess we could say. </span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Hence the weather vane. (The word </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">hence</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> indicating a very </span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">solipsistic logic...apologies. If we think differently, just enjoy </span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">the weather vanes.)</span></span></span></span></div></div></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">When I first began to think about stories, and how we encounter narrative within a physical dimension, I was in Milan, and I was working in theatre. Nowadays the narrative I work with is not </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">told</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> or </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">acted</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, but </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">displayed</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> and</span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">objectified</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So when the story is an artwork that reflects on the missing bits - as in Magid's </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Becoming Tarden</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> (subtitle </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The secret itself is much more beautiful than its revelation</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">)... well, it is, like all the great epics, all great theatre, all great television plots, ultimately a reflection on </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">death</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">. The negative of our life is by definition - and since hundreds of years before Christian times - exemplified by the concept of death.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Death has been the most tremendously effective tool for narrative plots and myths across all cultures - and a scientifically proven fact for just as long.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Follow me once again down the path of BT-logic, if you will.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Scientists seem to reflect less on death than storytellers, artists and humanists. (I am sure this is a controversial statement, but I admit to not being enough of a scientist to know for sure - let's say </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">this is my impression</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">). But what scientists do just as well as artists, is reflect on possibilities. And hence my other inspiration for the New Year comes from David Eagleman's book </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Sum, forty tales from the afterlives,</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">a neuroscientific exploration of 40 scenarios of the afterlife - all imaginative, all provocative, and funny.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I will, for 2010, define myself as a </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">possibilian</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, following in Mr Eagleman's footsteps and attempting to see the afterlife and death as the other side of the coin of life, a way of enriching every living moment and offering us a lens through which to view our shared </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">condition humaine</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Best wishes for the new decade.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div></div></span></div>B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-2126709303474709742009-12-07T15:34:00.000-08:002009-12-07T16:05:54.834-08:00Medieval and Renaissance Galleries, Victoria and Albert Museum<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWN8M8CPvXdiTHtHa8hUOJADQAtJr4eLY9bLGkoHNax18eVyzIwxOqXONa4SDr9c-d-UvisTUy-mffh_OglGwMGQWU8sX7XSW06Db8MsENh3hXSdkm7mQx3NaFOx7Z1IoEyw9w9TwQNgJr/s1600-h/IMG_1541.JPG"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAGWklMI46HdrJXfW_PjKRspyPYcEwgF41nS3vGLc2hK6XmKP28Z5Bb0I-8tItvdhQG7CaKvW_A0Tc2XN0J3652wv6t5sN6i00vL7UbWJxmTS8FQW603xOnr4Oc5IT5lbsc9JQoeej1J6D/s1600-h/IMG_1529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAGWklMI46HdrJXfW_PjKRspyPYcEwgF41nS3vGLc2hK6XmKP28Z5Bb0I-8tItvdhQG7CaKvW_A0Tc2XN0J3652wv6t5sN6i00vL7UbWJxmTS8FQW603xOnr4Oc5IT5lbsc9JQoeej1J6D/s320/IMG_1529.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412648898596813346" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000080;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The ten new galleries in the east wing of the V&A – which reopened last week to a tune of 32 well spent millions – are very impressive. I could not make the official opening, but pottered around on Sunday with a friend. Designed by McInnes Usher McKnight Architects, the spaces are extraordinary – especially the bizarre and extremely fun new link areas which have created new surface areas and volumes that can happily accommodate entire frontages of houses. We have, of course, seen this before, as museums worldwide struggle to find space in which to make publicly accessible their hidden collections, and re-invent galleries inside their buildings in which to do this. It requires gutting out and re-imagining outside spaces as inside spaces, and making the new architecture work with what remains of the historic building.<br /><br />Many similar interventions have been hugely successful - </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">in primis</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> Foster’s Great Court at the British Museum and I. M. Pei’s Deutsches Historische Museum in Berlin. On a smaller scale, but to refer to a project on which I worked, Terry Farrell Architects opening up of vertical circulation within the buildings of the Royal Institution in central London.<br /><br />But at the V&A the visibility of these </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">innards</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> – spaces that are external to the buildings that make up what we know as the V&A, an architectural jigsaw behind the unifying Edwardian façade – is bright, exciting and plain fun. It is as if the architects have imagined spilling objects out into the in-between spaces, playing between negative volumes on display and entrail volumes of the building. </span></span></span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWN8M8CPvXdiTHtHa8hUOJADQAtJr4eLY9bLGkoHNax18eVyzIwxOqXONa4SDr9c-d-UvisTUy-mffh_OglGwMGQWU8sX7XSW06Db8MsENh3hXSdkm7mQx3NaFOx7Z1IoEyw9w9TwQNgJr/s1600-h/IMG_1541.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWN8M8CPvXdiTHtHa8hUOJADQAtJr4eLY9bLGkoHNax18eVyzIwxOqXONa4SDr9c-d-UvisTUy-mffh_OglGwMGQWU8sX7XSW06Db8MsENh3hXSdkm7mQx3NaFOx7Z1IoEyw9w9TwQNgJr/s320/IMG_1541.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412648917969872610" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrtjEMLnt4yKSQ7Fp1Xy5bfE3sOw_UsLbL0IAYbt6qyxx1c65YW1-U6nC1G8s9tp3i3YqDFhKMXU3MAlTvHpEIhcHMSD0vNeYCBElQn6b4Hyi3zmvATHpJPQzJcH1aHyACIXmbRN9Q-WJ3/s1600-h/IMG_1545.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrtjEMLnt4yKSQ7Fp1Xy5bfE3sOw_UsLbL0IAYbt6qyxx1c65YW1-U6nC1G8s9tp3i3YqDFhKMXU3MAlTvHpEIhcHMSD0vNeYCBElQn6b4Hyi3zmvATHpJPQzJcH1aHyACIXmbRN9Q-WJ3/s320/IMG_1545.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412648915753299122" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikLhqg6agcj4cr4ThQTbwSPd6LbZf3jDfZLsq-gr72rljRytLZXOvW3p8E1xfntH4AHvUV8LtmoZpTnDauQ2-by2Tg1TZWjZw-kfhh48-b0E-Tbrewm8x_rP4o1AAVcgjqF3U9nkhCvPZi/s1600-h/IMG_1569.JPG"></a></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;color:#000080;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family:'Times New Roman', sans-serif;font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Natural light floods in from above, accenting all those stupendous other sunlit marble halls dotted around the building, and the negative volumes sing out against the new spaces. It feels like walking around the cutout silhouette of the main galleries – exactly like when making Christmas biscuits you are left with the non-shapes, where circle sat next to rectangle – and you are left with whatever that in between end shape is. Walking through and around, you find yourself connected to the other galleries. It is a joyous, exciting and uplifting experience.</span></span><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; "><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: medium; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikLhqg6agcj4cr4ThQTbwSPd6LbZf3jDfZLsq-gr72rljRytLZXOvW3p8E1xfntH4AHvUV8LtmoZpTnDauQ2-by2Tg1TZWjZw-kfhh48-b0E-Tbrewm8x_rP4o1AAVcgjqF3U9nkhCvPZi/s1600-h/IMG_1569.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikLhqg6agcj4cr4ThQTbwSPd6LbZf3jDfZLsq-gr72rljRytLZXOvW3p8E1xfntH4AHvUV8LtmoZpTnDauQ2-by2Tg1TZWjZw-kfhh48-b0E-Tbrewm8x_rP4o1AAVcgjqF3U9nkhCvPZi/s320/IMG_1569.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412648903374128098" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></span></span></span></div></span></span></span></div>B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-80012636124479070192009-11-12T03:52:00.000-08:002009-11-12T03:59:26.861-08:00Thinking about what I do<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiInptmN9Rpchsk-b3LfYp7Qt3VdIxf8UTAVxN39rOo3deEia778ePUNGZUcuCq227BKbl2WUjc6T_1rOp-oPV1ZG1aPJPlywyzyGIeGm0X-Q1qn7qXEL76ZG_8H_-JvsmbjZUpFNJCxEKS/s1600-h/TAMFRI.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 170px; height: 255px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiInptmN9Rpchsk-b3LfYp7Qt3VdIxf8UTAVxN39rOo3deEia778ePUNGZUcuCq227BKbl2WUjc6T_1rOp-oPV1ZG1aPJPlywyzyGIeGm0X-Q1qn7qXEL76ZG_8H_-JvsmbjZUpFNJCxEKS/s320/TAMFRI.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403185471295446354" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I have been reading a very interesting book called </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Friends of Interpretable Objects</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, by Miguel Tamen, Professor of Literary Theory at University of Lisbon.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It is a small book, brimming with Portuguese flair and a taste for aesthetics – hence it felt very warm and inviting and triggered many memories of red-wine-fuelled philosophical conversations while writing my dissertation.</span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Tamen’s most exciting claim is that:</span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;">something becomes interpretable, and describable in an intentional way, only in the context of a specific “society of friends".</span></i></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I am in the middle of dealing with a Friends group at a museum I am helping redevelop, and thankfully the society of friends he refers to is more a spiritual community, united by language and meaning making, than the technical definition comprising these wonderful – and voluntary – supporters of museums all over the world who have such a huge part to play in the renaissance of our sector.</span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Reading this book has provoked a shift in my perceptions of what I do. I understand all visitors (and possibly even non visitors) as constituting the society of friends that I work with. As an interpretative planner my job is to reflect on the process of meaning making, on </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">how and around what do museum friends come together?</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> In what way do they share meaning making? In Tamen’s terms: how can I help to “characterise language, interpretation and intention-attributing activities” so that messages and experiences that inhabit our museums are shared?</span></span></span></span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Of course, my answer cannot find expression in a paragraph on this blog. (Not only do I not own the language, I don't actually have the answer yet!) It emerges every day in working creatively around the challenges of an interpretative project. Every project team reveals different understandings and approaches. Even language itself is a cultural barrier in meaning making, as I discovered – for the upteenth time – recently, in my dealings with the Italian Ministry of Culture. My discovery was one of increased self awareness – little to do with professional capability, and lots to do with the need to re-align myself to a different culture of meaning making.</span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So my thought for this day: each society of friends impacts most profoundly on the interpretative plan that their museum adopts. But... <i>how can we avoid self referentiality?</i> And how does an interpretative planner deal with that? Suggestions?</span></span></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-42832017039145522152009-11-01T10:54:00.000-08:002009-11-01T11:49:10.870-08:00Meeting Michelangelo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOdqMNeQnkmme0Of9iSIbY0cw54zu7qGu245glM3GGerO4EZ2oGcxDpExPt7K4ibsrHBn0axxR9Fn_wVFioRMb_tEJKJFnd9OYypo6GE8SpBzMleFyxs1FbJIktlzkRwOTcPtcgTk95dNJ/s1600-h/Blog+Pupo.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOdqMNeQnkmme0Of9iSIbY0cw54zu7qGu245glM3GGerO4EZ2oGcxDpExPt7K4ibsrHBn0axxR9Fn_wVFioRMb_tEJKJFnd9OYypo6GE8SpBzMleFyxs1FbJIktlzkRwOTcPtcgTk95dNJ/s320/Blog+Pupo.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399223050675204818" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', serif; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">My time in Volterra was all too short. But time in Italy is a relative concept, and I found myself slowing down a little. A whole day was taken up by lecturing on to postgraduate students studing Museology in the Scuola Normale di Pisa – a very select institution among Italian universities.</span></span></div> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">On the way out from the lecture theatre, I caught sight of a poster on a church door (Volterra has thirteen churches inside its city walls) which stated in quaint English:</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#6633FF;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6633FF;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">You are welcome, deer tourist guest. Enjoy nature’s beauty and human achievements, and we pray you return home physically rested and spiritually strengthened.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6633FF;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6633FF;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Signed, the Bishop</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#6633FF;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Spiritually strengthened but physically exhausted, I stepped inside a small alabaster studio where Pupo </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">mastro alabastriere</span></span></i><span style="font-style:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> works. A friend had suggested to me that I go and visit this endearing, ancient Volterrano gentleman who works in a studio the size of a large table. Everything here is covered in fine white dust – so fine, in fact, that you don’t really see it: it just seems that a patina of ‘pale’ covers everything, including Pupo – who is very appropriately wearing beige and grey. The dust is of such fine texture that it just seems to make everything a shade paler, rather like looking at a faded photograph or at a landscape through a misty lens.</span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Slightly selfconsciously, I started to chat to Pupo, whose strong Tuscan accent with its c aspirate is a joy to my ears – it’s a bit like hearing Dante speaking to you.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Pupo described starting work in the family business at age 7, having decided school was boring. He talked about his mother, whose pale picture hung on the side – a birthday picture, wishing her many happy returns for her 103</span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">rd</span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> birthday (in 2003 if I remember rightly). He talked about working in Milan producing cast models from which castings would be taken, and about the dying art of alabaster. He talked about the figures he makes – many of animals, horse heads and dogs, of birds and turtles, some on commission.</span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I asked him about his art – what his favourite part of the process was. He looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and said “this” patting the large-ish boulder in front of him sitting atop a swivelling stand on his hand made work bench. Weighing in at about 70 kilos, the bulky shape looked like nothing much, but he explained that he was carving a family of elephants – the small one leading, the mother behind it and the father, the largest form, taking up the rear. He looked up at me, and said “I see them in there”. And so I remembered Michelangelo’s sonnet</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><i>Every block of stone has a statue inside it and it is the task of the sculptor to discover it.</i></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Yes, he agreed, it is about taking away what is extra. And do you know the hardest thing? What I still haven’t learned to do? To stop myself before ruining the piece, to listen to my gut when it tells me it will not get any closer to what I have in my mind’s eye, that I should lay aside my tools, and call it a day.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I asked him whether he thought of himself as an </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">artist</span></span></i><span style="font-style:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> or an </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">artisan</span></span></i><span style="font-style:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">, and he replied that he is neither. “Io sono alabastriere”. Being an artist of alabaster is like nothing else, he said seriously – and paused, looking at me intently. It is a way of life, a way of thinking, a way of passing the time. It keeps me company, he said, and it’s good fun. With these new tools, I don’t have to make any effort at all – he points to a rudimentary drill head attached to a scalpel.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Momentarily, I was lost for words. Here was a man in his 80s, with basic literacy skills, who had single handedly expressed what I had spent 6 hours trying to get my students to understand. The concept that what we learn in life – and in museums – is far less about knowledge than it is about being human. At the heart of this, is the idea of proclaiming a life worth living that has nothing to do with our capacity for intellectual understanding. I had repeated to my students that GLO (generic learning outcomes) indicators used in British museums place knowledge on a par with skills acquisitions and sociality, that analytical capacity goes hand in hand with emotional sensitivity. And that a visit to a museum – or a day in one’s life – spent nurturing our emotional being is worth the time spent poring over a million books.</span></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-86461543121863578572009-11-01T01:54:00.000-07:002009-11-01T01:44:23.099-08:00Volterra Etruscan heart of Italy<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1E4WsWUw_X4t7Q5S-U3PqbW6oCp0w9isZ-61jTx0GeCr1w8aW77OsjBGC1TTluRJRLWnNMnZbpdY0c1ejDKzAT9xTZJaBzgTZefflHYxrIYmaQ1uDIFG-K8dGEOK0n2Aqk5DFcyMoBf_5/s1600-h/volterra_1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1E4WsWUw_X4t7Q5S-U3PqbW6oCp0w9isZ-61jTx0GeCr1w8aW77OsjBGC1TTluRJRLWnNMnZbpdY0c1ejDKzAT9xTZJaBzgTZefflHYxrIYmaQ1uDIFG-K8dGEOK0n2Aqk5DFcyMoBf_5/s320/volterra_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399063576500685074" /></a><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I returned yesterday from Volterra in Tuscany – for Etruscan specialists, this is the stoney medieval town <i>Velathri</i> founded by the Etruscans in the 8th c BC. For others among you (including some of my close friends – you know who you are) the location of Stephanie Meyers’ recent bestselling Twilight series.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The city is a vivacious, beautifully intricate medieval town - although 7 kms of the wall walk was laid out by the Etruscans - perched atop a hill, surrounded by the most beautiful rolling hills as far as the eye can see, right down to the sea. The ancient stone walls (<i>la cinta muraria</i>) that embrace the town – and apparently also define whether you are a posh Volterrano or not, ie whether you live </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">entro le mura</span></span></i><span style="font-style:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> o </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">fuori le mura</span></span></i><span style="font-style:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> – are a feat of stonemasonry and anti-instrusion planning tactics. (Very aptly they also house an imposing prison which still functions today.) They are also used by local kids to engage in <i>sassaiole</i> - or throwing stones onto your friends below the walls.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;font-size:medium;">During one morning run I found it incredibly difficult to find a way back into the city, once I had passed a gate or arch in the ramparts – the walls and routes relentlessly chucked me outwards. This was frustrating at first, and then it made me smile. Any footsoldier in the service of Florentine powers led by Lorenzo il Magnifico who braved the scramble up the steep hill and the hot oil and the enemy snipers would, had he had the misfortune of breaking through without a map, have probably been churned out as soon as he had broken through. Result!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">(Volterra did however eventually succumb to Lorenzo's armies in 1472.)</span></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-80804022663832705392009-10-07T17:38:00.001-07:002009-10-09T02:25:22.473-07:00The art of language in Paris<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6cQecu4guAehp_beWOqtW4Q8e3G47jJM6q0_PZK9J45MNX-qc9rDf10XCq6ziu3vhk53l2vFdQ-bbYx2gLlUTkskrKfmxQpaX6MVV4WAjFk79y4whIMFZI4VJlLQhBHIYCzKWr5jDsgRW/s1600-h/Paris+face+3.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6cQecu4guAehp_beWOqtW4Q8e3G47jJM6q0_PZK9J45MNX-qc9rDf10XCq6ziu3vhk53l2vFdQ-bbYx2gLlUTkskrKfmxQpaX6MVV4WAjFk79y4whIMFZI4VJlLQhBHIYCzKWr5jDsgRW/s320/Paris+face+3.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390113593791065538" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I recently returned from an exploration of Paris. The heavily textual/literary character of the French nation is obvious for all to see. The French are proud of their language heritage and manifestly take pleasure in the French language in all its manifestations - the theatre posters in the metro, people reading, the obsession with </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; line-height: 19px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Littérature moderne du monde francophone<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">, the immense quantity of independent booksellers. Walking into one to browse one I couldn't help hearing the bookseller talking to a young lady whom I guess had asked him advice on reading matter. </span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px;font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; line-height: 19px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Throughout the exchange, he walked calmly around the shop, woman in tow. A strong bright voice, pausing and pointing at the wares as if they were pictures of old friends. The monologue lasted for my entire stay in the shop - I was in there for about 25 minutes. </span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px;font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; line-height: 19px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">It went something like this: </span></span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px;font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; line-height: 19px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;">...somebody you might like if you read Pennac, a beautifully written Native American narrative like the big epics of past times this is another French classic, and of course Michel Houellebecq if you like the radical. Let me see... Atiq Rahimi won the Goncourt last year we wait to see what he next produces - that was his first novel in French, the great story of an Afghani woman caring for her wounded husband in a repressive society,and another writer who explores the French language exceptionally well - of course, Yasmina Khadra you may know him - What the Day Owes the Night this powerful love story set in Algeria. Do you know Veronique Ovalde (mumble mumble in response) hers are stories to link things together and inseperable - and what about the bestseller Vincent Delecroix - one of my favourites La Chaussure each chapter focusing on a shoe - set in Gare du Nord...do you know the area? It's about loneliness poignant stories. Eric Reinhardt - great writing his is great writing the Cendrillon (Cinderella) novel a sweeping autobiography of four men - I know, I know. But it is autobiographical, and there are four characters... </span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px;font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; line-height: 19px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">No surprises, there, then. If all Parisian bookshops are like this one in Pernety, no wonder Parisians are all </span>littéraire.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px;font-size:medium;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; line-height: normal; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgALBejHDC6VaA-60KWSKUy7ca_zGnrlQ4cFyDwy-D9fxnt1QIq79mNg-5UkPAmDXOOrxOsPPs1zdR5WBAnVAf1soSowagLXLFy473DgrpQh5b0E58H3JOWgi1W4BjZ_Fzsvh5tlVQmoze8/s320/tropiques_180-8a78e_large.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390528796942172642" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 193px; height: 145px; " /></span></i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px;font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: normal; font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghdT54VuTAbHpqUpbmwp7pmAMETbRMNpdfk0fJd30rQiQTDkmILQXl-9L2TcydvLbgpSlvbi1aUcNtV6s8B20i8tJFNEoIGPj3BOFcxwq0ufH5hY88oGG6Tntm-rMCNY-hrbKQ07U8OodF/s1600-h/Paris+face+2.JPG"></a></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghdT54VuTAbHpqUpbmwp7pmAMETbRMNpdfk0fJd30rQiQTDkmILQXl-9L2TcydvLbgpSlvbi1aUcNtV6s8B20i8tJFNEoIGPj3BOFcxwq0ufH5hY88oGG6Tntm-rMCNY-hrbKQ07U8OodF/s1600-h/Paris+face+2.JPG"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghdT54VuTAbHpqUpbmwp7pmAMETbRMNpdfk0fJd30rQiQTDkmILQXl-9L2TcydvLbgpSlvbi1aUcNtV6s8B20i8tJFNEoIGPj3BOFcxwq0ufH5hY88oGG6Tntm-rMCNY-hrbKQ07U8OodF/s1600-h/Paris+face+2.JPG"></a></span></span></div></div></div>B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-56994161205264589462009-10-07T16:17:00.000-07:002009-10-07T17:28:26.565-07:00Museums Association 2009 conference - What I want you do to first is drink a glass of water<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8FpmNzdyUkEuR1jOqdCGsZNJ_U8Mcirz6xT7xeT-poL3aUzGFfMPFXI7EUrqlvA7ESdp3ytN-2EXyJ_lgszJ1Ug5-Sr7JhHjt7_Yft4ikHCVsvfhNE9SmGjP_TOxGiWRIoP6cTY3eYBso/s1600-h/abramovic+audiences.jpg"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbbWd-DpFX3fyaQvR2UJLeYvsYxfO9fNaEsgsUCKmqE4Pwedf6zbQVWbrPF4dpTWnsu6dmrOgJBsNoesjyvp2cE53dYTq-voqFPctqt-LwL3Eautf2FkzZUm_1dJ9Tcc3NTbpVVBkZqttn/s1600-h/Immigrants+of+the+world.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 272px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbbWd-DpFX3fyaQvR2UJLeYvsYxfO9fNaEsgsUCKmqE4Pwedf6zbQVWbrPF4dpTWnsu6dmrOgJBsNoesjyvp2cE53dYTq-voqFPctqt-LwL3Eautf2FkzZUm_1dJ9Tcc3NTbpVVBkZqttn/s320/Immigrants+of+the+world.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390006831686287266" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I caught up with a couple of interventions at this year's conference - both chosen because of relevance to the practice of using art interventions in museums - manifestly to "open up" collections, "encourage" visitor participation/exploration and/or radically change curatorial practice.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Two things of note. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Edinburgh's The Collective Gallery in 2007-2008 hosted an evaluative exercise on audience participation in interpretation, using works by Jason Nelson, Artur Zmijewski, and Freee (Dave Beech-Andy Hewitt-Mel Jordan) - picture above (http://freee.org.uk/works/how-to-be-hospitable). The gallery's attempt at harnessing multiple perspectives in the development of meaningful interpretations, while a laudable one, left me wondering whether most models of visitor/user generated meaning making are actually a self reflexive exercise that benefits gallery and museum practitioners in the sense that it involves a vocal, interested audience/curatorial panel, while leaving most visitors indifferent. In a postmodern sense, most of these panel based self-reflexive exercises seem to benefit those who take part in them, rather than the end user. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Does reflecting on the mechanics of meaning-making affect end users? Less than it could.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Is this practice legitimate? Even if you are not an artist? </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The other excellent case study came from the session entitled "Artists and Museums: what's the limit?" during which Maria Bradshaw, Director of the Whitworth Art Gallery in Manchester, explored what happens when galleries embrace new steps in interpretative practice by involving artists as curators - in this case, the "grande dame of performance art", Marina Abramovic, during this year's Manchester International Festival. In this clip, Marina Abramovic <i>presents the unnerving and unforgettable</i> (see http://www.guardian.co.uk/culture/video/2009/jul/06/marina-abramovic-manchester-festival-adrian-searle).</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8FpmNzdyUkEuR1jOqdCGsZNJ_U8Mcirz6xT7xeT-poL3aUzGFfMPFXI7EUrqlvA7ESdp3ytN-2EXyJ_lgszJ1Ug5-Sr7JhHjt7_Yft4ikHCVsvfhNE9SmGjP_TOxGiWRIoP6cTY3eYBso/s320/abramovic+audiences.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390018270413277554" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 191px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The Whitworth was cleared of all its collections; artists took part in intimate audience encounters for the duration of the international festival, each performing for an exhausting 4 hours each day; the public were taken through a drill - a sort of initiation ceremony - and finally explored the building freely, observing artists exploring their responses to the space, the (secreted) collections etc. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The lesson learnt was potentially a very strong one: live hauntings, the "renegade energy" of live art injects (can inject) traditional museum/gallery practice with new life, the collections seeming "new" even to their curators. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So why am I cynical? </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">There is a sense that this style of interpretative intervention - which takes inspiration from promenade theatre and site specific installation work, which turns visitors into private viewers who partake of a bespoke <i>ritual</i> rather than <i>visit... </i>are not our day to day audiences.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When Ms Bradshaw stated "we took this experience as a statement of what we intend to do all the time" - I sighed. It is precisely the "event" nature of the experience, the out-of-the-ordinary exclusiveness, the tailor-made character of <i>becoming one</i> with the gallery spaces and the artworks... that makes this type of experience intensely attractive and socially successful.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The issue is to find ways of maintaining the <i>secretive</i> nature of interesting interpretation - to encourage meaning making in visitors even when there is no special event. Is the solution actually to "open up" collections and "make them more accessible" - or is it, rather, to keep them secret and explorable? Should we encourage visitors to see more - or should we offer them the opportunity of discovering for themselves? </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Is access a free exercise, or an initiation ritual of which we partake not as consumers but as co-celebrants? Has access rendered void an encounter with the unknown?</span></span></div>B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-68854359370698076582009-08-20T03:51:00.000-07:002009-08-20T03:57:04.117-07:00Richard Long’s Heaven and Earth<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtx-JXH1mzHgylIInqoq3ON3t0U-5_V7epTuN_R7Vbl2hLnTJ-9J3Y8ey6gQ-qM9Us6vauPPQrpvC7eeD4NQ81N0grj-3mj-LG5INotf2sHlQSrIm2Ni-ZsLKrPjlyHXbMKnrGYij23Sp8/s1600-h/tate-room-4a-900-.jpg"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixYetSTMIINtco2cJW-05qGQV9u8Rg0lDYBepIZshNlXRlEtKkOOeJBquWXhwc0v-YDIA5RN4U2gt9N2W7Bmt9SIVEoZUypv3xniz44WOvrNa4qFBFBHyXiup0f07wc4-9MSDKtQD_4NKF/s1600-h/coco_chanel1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 301px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixYetSTMIINtco2cJW-05qGQV9u8Rg0lDYBepIZshNlXRlEtKkOOeJBquWXhwc0v-YDIA5RN4U2gt9N2W7Bmt9SIVEoZUypv3xniz44WOvrNa4qFBFBHyXiup0f07wc4-9MSDKtQD_4NKF/s320/coco_chanel1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371997743641404962" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I celebrated a special day on Monday in the company of Richard Long and Coco Chanel – definitely two people I would invite to my dream “who would you have to a soiree” quiz. (Audrey Tautou as Coco in the recently released film </span></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Coco avant Chanel</span></span></span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> directed by Anne Fontaine, </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">is extraordinary.)</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Richard Long’s retrospective – of the last 18 years – is on at Tate Britain until September 6. I wondered whether having just come back from my long mountain trek I was especially well placed to appreciate the works on show. I was more than usually aware of the act of walking – and hence more responsive to his art. In his words:</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">To make</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"> art only by walking or leaving ephemeral traces here and there, is my freedom. </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I was wearing heels, and the clacking on the Tate’s wooden floors was a rhythmic reminder of the exhausting and sometimes mind numbing but spiritually liberating step by step of mountain trekking. The galleries are quiet and clean and... meteorologically stable.</span></span></p> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtx-JXH1mzHgylIInqoq3ON3t0U-5_V7epTuN_R7Vbl2hLnTJ-9J3Y8ey6gQ-qM9Us6vauPPQrpvC7eeD4NQ81N0grj-3mj-LG5INotf2sHlQSrIm2Ni-ZsLKrPjlyHXbMKnrGYij23Sp8/s320/tate-room-4a-900-.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371997893734592834" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 203px; " /></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">One of the galleries contains sculptural installations, including Alpine Circle from 1990. (see the Richard Long newsletter at http://www.therichardlongnewsletter.org/item.asp?no=62&m=current&i=1080) I knelt in between the textured surfaces – physical recreations of outdoor surfaces walked on, and I was reminded – coolly – of the harsh steep large grey eroding Dolomites, the cragginess of red lava the splintering of the rocks in Lagazuoi the dust of the underground mines.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The flatness of charcoalled wood like a lattice, the skulls of white rock, the pink of dolomia. These I recognise as Alpine stones.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It was slightly bizarre that in the Tate, of course, you cannot actually walk </span></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">on</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> the art. And indeed, recreating that outdoor landscape and detaching it from the act of walking strikes me as an interesting evolution of Long’s art.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">My work</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"> is completely physical and personal. I’ve walked or climbed to the place of each sculpture. I’ve made it with my hands (or feet) and energy at that time. To walk across a country from coast to coast, for example, is both a measure of the land itself – its size and shape and terrain – and also of myself, how long it takes me and not somebody else. </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">An extraordinary way of turning an outer geography into an inner one. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-42183670402786874412009-08-14T05:02:00.001-07:002009-08-14T12:56:34.109-07:00Flattening time in the Dolomites<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3nUGxYSSzYwTlO0UTGPvNzdY9g4Tbms8eSOJhdJiq6K3uTYJmQNu_ElVwLFzD7HhrWcRDcUKtZXY0GZ9MXyAyFwSSgOVu2z-nQwfrNToTK_6Cfpn-JRlfZUq-jN_CiAa6xZoFBNSZo1ze/s1600-h/P1020494.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3nUGxYSSzYwTlO0UTGPvNzdY9g4Tbms8eSOJhdJiq6K3uTYJmQNu_ElVwLFzD7HhrWcRDcUKtZXY0GZ9MXyAyFwSSgOVu2z-nQwfrNToTK_6Cfpn-JRlfZUq-jN_CiAa6xZoFBNSZo1ze/s320/P1020494.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369909766050057426" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I have just come back from high mountain trekking in the Dolomites – the northeastern part of the Italian Alps which are half Alto Adige (South Tyrol and German speaking) and half Veneto (Italian speaking). Eight days of walking with no other pleasures but hot tea once the </span></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">rifugio</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> was reached and a hot shower – when lucky. Extenuating, exhausting, exhilarating – I highly recommend it.</span></span></p> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">One of the great surprises along our way – we were following our own version of the historical Alta Via numero 1, comprising about 80kms of rough terrain over stone gorges, mule tracks, military roads and high peaks, in amongst the cows and the marmots – was the Rifugio Lagazuoi, standing at 2752m.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The Lagazuoi peak was a highly contested area of one of the most surprising and least well known mine wars of the First World War. When I say mine wars, I mean that each side – Austrian and Italian, opposing each other – excavated miles and miles of tunnels </span></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">in the rock</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> in order to blow up the enemy’s defensive posts – from underneath! An absolutely incredible story.</span></span></p> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUNsYEx6R_of0QaZS0FDYzPZQatY024_1o_edcm53bt97ceTG45Yz9sDZ_4cPog-dvqM6Qz9wMumn4Ju48wVzV2O0PLlpaPJS4ks-7KnQHwE4cKumXy5C3juVsFfx5i2CMxMOy9grP3k6L/s320/P1020486.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369907508235561938" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px; " /></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The opening to this tunnel – which frankly re-awakened my tired senses and my tired legs and spurred me on to keep climbing – gives onto a dark cramped slippery corridor climbing 230m up and burrowing through the mountain for 1100m. Walking in these mountains is hard enough – with all the technical gear of today’s mountaineers… but mining in them? While being fired upon? Through the damp weather of autumn, the freezing fogs and snowstorms of winter – wearing only leather boots and furs? The mining operations resembled in my mind those of 19</span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">th</span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> century Wales mining districts – all on top of mountains.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Shelters, mountain tracks, tunnels were constructed predominantly at night or on foggy days. Rusty barbed wire, the signs of craters in the mountainside, old boot soles, trap doors like balconies overlooking valleys, signalling and firing posts, hollows hewn into the rock face to hold ammunitions, gun chambers, sleeping quarters…</span></span></p> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPLw5sSt7Vft5tey3ALkxGx3WAtaV1v0R6o0zBF0_y0fULUBrtHc0sSnLRlaPPOa3VBMgPBJHdAPXyxexLDWBRHcMPFmiJ3W4mtZv4x8osEU5-gQofAA8rs0-fxdTKCTy9zQqnb7QJCIEL/s320/P1020492.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369908144846932962" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px; " /></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The frustration of this kind of warfare is evident in the archival sources – which I browsed through that evening, in the warmth of the bar at the Rifugio Lagazuoi, while sipping an amaretto. Records of the Austrian 96</span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">th</span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> Infantry Brigade in October 1915 state:</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">On the ledge of Lagazuoi is a machine gun nest. A real torment… To oppose the machine gun, a patrol of grenade launchers must be detached from the Lagazuoi emplacements to strike the enemy from above with hand grenades.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A war fought from vantage points above and secret tunnels underneath – an all immersive war, which changed the landscape using 30,000kg of explosives at a time, dislodging hundreds of thousands of cubic rock at a time.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">One of the Italian heroes – by the name of Maggiore Martini wrote in May 1917:</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">t 22.10 on the 21</span></span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">st</span></span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">, a tremendous rumbling shook the whole mountain, completely sinking the trincea avanzata (the front trench) and splintering the Guglia (spire) while the Dente Filiponi, prodigiously intact in its immense size slipped onto the Trincerone (large trench) turning into a providential bulwark for our further defence.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Imagine – the Austrians have hauled up between 24,000 and 30,480 kgs of explosives into the far end of the tunnel they have excavated, then lit it, then escaped, hoping this would be the master stroke to expose the enemy. The mountain rumbles like a frighteningly huge earthquake, and the entire rock slides as one piece – providing extra shelter for the Italians.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Sheesh – time for a martini.</span></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGe45EO7HOja0u-gnNl-CVYPEhsDskaULRXwRZiw7DK9crrg4KOoseojm1LZ2poflXZ470i09i3YiBVl-caj-GmNBh7HsXju9YCK42AYAa6EZ3WGzyYralmSkaN3uEmiZknoYtchq0cz3D/s1600-h/P1020490.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGe45EO7HOja0u-gnNl-CVYPEhsDskaULRXwRZiw7DK9crrg4KOoseojm1LZ2poflXZ470i09i3YiBVl-caj-GmNBh7HsXju9YCK42AYAa6EZ3WGzyYralmSkaN3uEmiZknoYtchq0cz3D/s320/P1020490.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369907796487027778" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px; " /></a></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">This must be the highest open air museum in Europe. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw the audioguide sign on the impressive graphic panels… who on earth would climb a whole day and then take out an audioguide as if they were walking down the Brompton Road in London’s museum district?</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVVUjCUwp7wEke_mrXamcbNu57bQvA3OB07_80BUOG3QYY_LsSqy2IeqQ-mxKhvxwMXi4fuaRG8mK-w7Qd517JbGY2x9sIJpu_7fBwrUJDF9JX0d7YpxxrhtTpR-ESXnrLU02d_FzTEsz5/s1600-h/P1020489.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVVUjCUwp7wEke_mrXamcbNu57bQvA3OB07_80BUOG3QYY_LsSqy2IeqQ-mxKhvxwMXi4fuaRG8mK-w7Qd517JbGY2x9sIJpu_7fBwrUJDF9JX0d7YpxxrhtTpR-ESXnrLU02d_FzTEsz5/s320/P1020489.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369907793643854514" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px; " /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The faces of the soldiers staring out at you while you are struggling up the same mountains where they fought for months on end are a stark reminder that this is a place where history still breathes. The fact it is still a hard climb today achieves what I think is a great interpretative aim, applicable to many museums: it brings visitors up close and personal to the history. It </span></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">flattens time</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">, by making you share some of the physical struggle that was a day to day condition of these soldiers. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-21541694468015273602009-07-19T04:03:00.000-07:002009-07-19T16:59:19.633-07:00On the meaning of archaeology<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYUyOmpKVtNBHgSXZSr7n82xZa19XdUXAYD5vObsPppZDTixYWT_sOF6xnoeOrEUeqRgwjRgO6wolL5UWyVa5P7YjzAV9G-tKJa_VrRJTInODTHZgKm3u5gTkpW2p1hxTB756M_Oxzb1Ki/s1600-h/Paestum+museum.JPG"></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwaI54VHMOOvkdsdMuFMFEfnmg6NY3SAdUtsGr1PPX94uTsWI7VZHZ59L8CZWX636uovxk3EBpONb0j2JTuOV5Z-rN6_hO5JlBcmFziJrsRytJDUgf8Rcenm8XcxwrvZFHlTjEIFJzMifU/s1600-h/bagnini.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><br /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwaI54VHMOOvkdsdMuFMFEfnmg6NY3SAdUtsGr1PPX94uTsWI7VZHZ59L8CZWX636uovxk3EBpONb0j2JTuOV5Z-rN6_hO5JlBcmFziJrsRytJDUgf8Rcenm8XcxwrvZFHlTjEIFJzMifU/s320/bagnini.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360126885219778162" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">As a museum professional, I have never had any doubt that museums are collective memories - that they have a public role, a responsibility to their community, and a duty to exist and communicate for future generations. As well as that, they represent some of our most precious treasures. They collect and present objects and stories that provide fuel for our wildest imagination and our most vivid scientific analysis. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">Nor have I ever had second thoughts about the public domain of archaeology - and the fact that finders are <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">not</span> keepers.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">Last week I was chatting - as one does - with a <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">bagnino</span> (lifeguard) on the beach in Campania, southern Italy. And in speaking about ways of life we came onto the subject of underwater finds - archaeological remains that he has dug up over the last few years while fishing. He has held onto these, which are displayed in his home, and he told me of others who sell them on to interested foreigners for a small profit. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">I was shocked and appalled. Trafficking is of course illegal! Immoral, even! By holding on to something like a Roman amphora you are depriving somebody else from enjoying it, you are keeping part of our joint heritage to yourself! Surely surely he could see that! And selling it on... well, Italy along with Greece and Bulgaria are at the head of the illegal trafficking trade of archaeological heritage. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">But he spoke to me of his wonder in holding a terracotta fragment, in tracing the writing on it, in handling the jug as his ancestor would have done - and something was niggling at me.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">Paolo - we shall call him Paolo - has probably never set foot inside his local museum. Nor has his local museum ever made any attempt to lure him in. Ne'er the twain shall meet - unfortunate, but true. And if he had never gone fishing, he wouldn't really <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">care</span> about his past, the archaeological heritage of Campania. He wouldn't - in the sense that he would probably be ignoring museums entirely. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">Even in a region so rich in heritage that it includes the stunningly well preserved remains of Poseidonia - today called Paestum - a city founded in the 7th century BC by colonists from Sybaris in mainland Greece. </span></div><div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcOIX1ClgM0iaisZWYxKrPdLGcTEnxfL9ATgxFzEqLzvXznAClWTHFVD33ajLXTgefwY46cuo830C7SkRJtJ6_UA25Qh0RpC88oSuVBazK8xwuFHFOqDQIryFMyye8-0KHPkFxDa-dukdq/s1600-h/Paestum.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcOIX1ClgM0iaisZWYxKrPdLGcTEnxfL9ATgxFzEqLzvXznAClWTHFVD33ajLXTgefwY46cuo830C7SkRJtJ6_UA25Qh0RpC88oSuVBazK8xwuFHFOqDQIryFMyye8-0KHPkFxDa-dukdq/s320/Paestum.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360127097200168770" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">He would never know the touchingly beautiful tomb paintings found here - one of a diver in the act of flying through the air from a man made scaffold structure, into the deep blue sea of a summer's day in Campania. A sea that our </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">bagnino</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"> knows so well. These most lovely pieces are presented in the most uninspiring way imaginable, behind a rope. It's as if the heritage that Italian museums protect for all to enjoy is all too much for those noble institutions to actually <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">care for</span> - care for in the way that Paolo cares for his amphora fragment. </span><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: -webkit-sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: -webkit-sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYUyOmpKVtNBHgSXZSr7n82xZa19XdUXAYD5vObsPppZDTixYWT_sOF6xnoeOrEUeqRgwjRgO6wolL5UWyVa5P7YjzAV9G-tKJa_VrRJTInODTHZgKm3u5gTkpW2p1hxTB756M_Oxzb1Ki/s320/Paestum+museum.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360127330503265186" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div></div></span></span></div>B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1406487285509887068.post-80475700640123200352009-07-16T15:42:00.000-07:002009-07-16T16:30:06.948-07:00Ecosustainable tourism<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4mz26QlwQ7vFtsex_FhKqtjabDmLnC5fZrBo2xGCIXQ3pwC7zaiTdTy5K7-BkLB7MlMcfTJnhrIx0JHlcjjUO8Enfikv0w6qFCYnFhibi_vYl8RGg92Sc4A-GBAgZI91KwiN9NriTwCgY/s1600-h/IMG_3985.JPG"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIVEvcaA9uobYMuSxqmSgh1K-BylbtaSE-hL5gSHbESbaJUwxtOU9h3ElFhlp0l95BEETUoMBQiY7HSFXV6btP55vcj22E9IL4o4IupfI6dqZK_JdcjBPt0jmYYlRJap2dYWXgOeXR6ELM/s1600-h/IMG_3905.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIVEvcaA9uobYMuSxqmSgh1K-BylbtaSE-hL5gSHbESbaJUwxtOU9h3ElFhlp0l95BEETUoMBQiY7HSFXV6btP55vcj22E9IL4o4IupfI6dqZK_JdcjBPt0jmYYlRJap2dYWXgOeXR6ELM/s320/IMG_3905.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359196423530162786" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">This is where I have been spending the last week - not specifically on this tarmac road - in the deep south of Italy, in the region of the National Park of Cilento in Campania, on the Tyrrhenian Sea. A place of blue seas, dry heat, lizards and cicadas, olive groves, rosemary thickets, fresh figs and the world's primary producer of mozzarella di bufala. </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The resort is very pleasant but it borders onto another, and this is the road that divides the two. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">On the one side, the macchia meditarranea - a natural vegetation of centennial olive trees, fichi d'India (in the name a clue - these are prickly pears), cacti, carob bean trees, pitosphorus, rosemary - sturdy thickets and bushes and plants that require next to little water. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">On the other, the following. </span></span><div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguz5rMAKXjWa3DBYI20xebsPtDkLkLt9Sf2XktxrCI3vqoEQlJqyr-Ia58NX6qtDLiF1woo-K9oP1e3PB2M4xQWKKUUh8qH6Ayif0dWby05FhyKfkJCfN7OlyWl1BvZQjRaMnC1a2iBE3x/s1600-h/IMG_3906.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguz5rMAKXjWa3DBYI20xebsPtDkLkLt9Sf2XktxrCI3vqoEQlJqyr-Ia58NX6qtDLiF1woo-K9oP1e3PB2M4xQWKKUUh8qH6Ayif0dWby05FhyKfkJCfN7OlyWl1BvZQjRaMnC1a2iBE3x/s320/IMG_3906.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359195873583273554" /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Freshly mowed lawn - LAWN??? With a swimming pool. A swimming pool?? With the warm sea just a stone's throw away? </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghYjxtFKH8Hybu8LkY7Bir8PVN5zyCz-h30VlWmKmbz2k57jEB_vj9wdmvu5G04B31oDHc0Fr7MG54hkVrePYIKXFVPG3fgSoIeMUMcBRv-Ofedb4jgYY28jhiDvW8gLnDQps7gbzATp-B/s320/IMG_3908.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359201057926535570" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Fresh water fountains spilling onto the grass. Irrigation systems providing tourists with the feeling they are in luscious vegetation... as green as a Wimbledon court. And...<br /></span></span></div><div><div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6vPjHGNNP_REoTaJqVajFc3xT-3S4jUdRPMl2fihnyDJ2U-kGr-j5bwqR4tLOTr6P1KXobovFN_9vnc1eI6ysN3mccLnX-WIPjWwKs4nmpzlcdksBp_eWtCLQruaPiNdN7J_tJNMzRRtj/s320/IMG_3909.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359199463879095666" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">...brick and glass structures - in this climate, the only way to keep your brain from frying in one of these is to have enough aircon to cool the entire regione of Campania. The traditional way, the sustainable way, the environmentally friendly way, of keeping cool in these climates is to slow down and ventilate using the land's own thermal currents. That, and sleeping in the heat of the afternoon - it will be 39 degrees Celsius tomorrow. The resort I am staying in ventilates its communal areas such as restaurants etc with the use of ancient things (called open windows) that create a breeze within the spaces. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4mz26QlwQ7vFtsex_FhKqtjabDmLnC5fZrBo2xGCIXQ3pwC7zaiTdTy5K7-BkLB7MlMcfTJnhrIx0JHlcjjUO8Enfikv0w6qFCYnFhibi_vYl8RGg92Sc4A-GBAgZI91KwiN9NriTwCgY/s1600-h/IMG_3985.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4mz26QlwQ7vFtsex_FhKqtjabDmLnC5fZrBo2xGCIXQ3pwC7zaiTdTy5K7-BkLB7MlMcfTJnhrIx0JHlcjjUO8Enfikv0w6qFCYnFhibi_vYl8RGg92Sc4A-GBAgZI91KwiN9NriTwCgY/s320/IMG_3985.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359203693369106946" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Olive trees all around provide a speckled but dense shade and the most wonderful smell.</span></span> </div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP6u51_aGJnHrrUrAjWohSi319PwYlbHidzHgWbaAoVpUsOmP9QmNXy5pAd4SB2YxPQICa0AYQd1zYT_AoG_0NiWrZ9ZI4mvxHJAojKTor5u1egfmGIjcShs9qOQTQuQi6wc4Br9ZA8Yre/s1600-h/IMG_3910.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP6u51_aGJnHrrUrAjWohSi319PwYlbHidzHgWbaAoVpUsOmP9QmNXy5pAd4SB2YxPQICa0AYQd1zYT_AoG_0NiWrZ9ZI4mvxHJAojKTor5u1egfmGIjcShs9qOQTQuQi6wc4Br9ZA8Yre/s320/IMG_3910.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359201908959700818" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Happy holidays everyone. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div></div></div>B Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792763971531885715noreply@blogger.com0