Superhuman

The Wellcome Collection describes itself as 'a free destination for the incurably curious' which makes it pretty much exactly my kind of place. Part of the Wellcome Trust (eponymous charitable arm of the pharmaceutical giant) the venue is designed to encourage visitors to explore the connections between life, medicine and art. Having really enjoyed last year's excellent exhibition Dirt - a whole lot more interesting than it sounds, trust me on this - I was very much looking forward to the current one, Superhuman.

The subject couldn't be more topical. South African Olympic and Paralympic sprinter Oscar Pistorius is currently making headlines following his shock defeat in the T44 200m final to Brazilian runner Oliveira and immediate public complaint about the 'unfair' length of his rival's blades. He later apologised for the timing, but not the content, of his outburst. Pistorius's point was that the longer blade results in a longer stride: ironically his own chosen blades are shorter to comply with the IAAF regulations that allow him to run in both Olympic and Paralympic events - Oliveira's blades are only legal in the Paralympics.

In a recent interview with the Guardian, Ben Rushgrove (who has cerebral palsy and runs in the T36 100m and 200m) points out the potential advantages that all 'Blade Runners' have over other athletes: 'the blade runners don't have feet so they don't suffer tendonitis or stress fractures. It also means they can train longer and harder than their counterparts. Coaches also say that the blades reduce body fatigue . . . For these reasons it was wrong in my opinion that Oscar was allowed to take part in the Olympics.' 
http://www.guardian.co.uk/sport/2012/sep/04/pistorius-blades-advantage-in-olympics?newsfeed=true

This concept, that a double amputee with prostheses may actually have an advantage over those we traditionally consider 'able-bodied', is central to the Wellcome exhibition. Aimee Mullins, herself a double amputee and Paralympian as well as a model, motivational speaker and now actress, is quoted as saying, 'A prosthetic limb does not represent the need to replace loss anymore. It can stand as a symbol that the wearer has the power to create whatever it is that they want to create in that space, so that people society once considered to be disabled can now become the architects of their own identities.' 

Mankind has always sought enhancement to improve actual or perceived limitations; few would quibble with the use of a pacemaker or hearing aid, even contact lenses or lipgloss, but how far is too far? The first exhibit is a silhouetted figure of Icarus in flight, mythological poster boy for the downside of pushing the boundaries, whilst in Recorte por la Linea (Cut Through the Line) the artist is filmed standing naked whilst a plastic surgeon marks her body with a multitude of incision lines for potential 'improvements'.
Some items are equally controversial but altogether more bizarre and amusing (to me at least); the wonderfully-named Whizzinator, a strap-on prosthetic penis complete with dried urine sachets, originally designed to cheat drug tests but now marketed as a 'lifestyle choice' accessory, or a nineteenth-century pair of spectacles complete with silver nose made for a woman who lost hers to syphilis. An accompanying colour booklet, available for a £1 donation, covers the main points of each section of the exhibition and also contains transcripts of the Voices videos - experts in their fields talking about enhancements in sport, lifespan, even moral capacity.

If your curiosity is still unslaked the Wellcome Collection also boasts two permanent collections and an extensive library. Book into one of their free guided tours, take home some bedtime reading from the specialist Blackwell bookshop or just chill out with top notch tea and cake courtesy of the Peyton & Byrne on site café. Food for thought indeed.
http://www.wellcomecollection.org/

Yours, incurably curiously,
Girl About Town xx

Celebrate a Secret Wedding

Occasionally I like to take a break from eating and drinking my way round our beloved capital or wandering round one of the many galleries and museums and show a bit of initiative. Inspired by the history of this amazing city, I search out the sites of its tales and secrets. Here is the first story; are you sitting comfortably?


On September 12th, 1846, a studious man of 33 married a woman in delicate health six years his senior at St Marylebone Parish Church. The wedding was secret, as her father had forbidden her (or any of his twelve children) ever to marry; afterwards she returned to the family home alone and lived there for a week while arrangements were made before eloping to Italy with her new husband. Her father never spoke to her again and the many letters she wrote to him were returned unopened.

The marriage of poets Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett Browning was the culmination of a romance that had been conducted mainly through love letters; they corresponded for almost five months before their first meeting and had exchanged 573 letters by the day of their wedding. The original letters are at Wellesley College in Massachusetts but digitised images and transcripts can be seen online here: http://digitalcollections.baylor.edu/cdm/compoundobject/collection/ab-letters/id/1966/rec/1

St Marylebone Parish Church is quietly beautiful, with carved wooded pews and moulded ceilings; standing before the altar it is easy to transport yourself back to Victorian London and empathise with the conflicting emotions and divided loyalties of that marriage over a century ago. There is a service at 11am on 9th September organised by the Browning Society to commemorate the day or you can visit the Browning Room, a small room off to the left just inside the door of the church, which has a small stained glass window dedicated to the poets. It is usually kept locked, but if you let them know you are coming they are happy to arrange a suitable time for you to view it. 

During this time Elizabeth wrote her 'Sonnets from the Portuguese' ('Portuguese' was his pet name for her) which trace the joy and doubts of their courtship, although Robert Browning had to convince her to make them public. They include probably her best-known poem, 'How Do I Love Thee?':

'How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.'

Elizabeth Barrett Browning died in Florence in 1861. In a letter to a friend her husband wrote: 'Then came what my heart will keep till I see her again and longer - the most perfect expression of her love to me within my whole knowledge of her. Always smiling, happily, and with a face like a girl's, and in a few minutes she died in my arms, her head on my cheek . . . God took her to himself as you would lift a sleeping child from a dark uneasy bed into your arms and the light.' Browning returned to London with their son, never remarried and would not return to Italy for seventeen years. He died at his son's home in Venice in 1889 and is buried in Poet's Corner in Westminster Abbey.

Somehow, I just don't think showing my future grandchildren texts and tweets will be the same.






Yours, missing the romance of old-fashioned letters,
Girl About Town xx

Mr Brainwash

The Old Sorting Office on New Oxford Street (just along the road from the British Museum) is currently hosting the second London exhibition by film-maker turned street artist Mr Brainwash. You can't miss it; the outside of the building features giant images of the Beatles in bandanas, Kate Moss, and the Queen next to the graffitied slogan "God save the People', pink paintbrush in hand.

Mr Brainwash, aka MBW, aka Thierry Guetta first came to the notice of the general public in Banksy's Oscar-nominated 2010 documentary (mockumentary?) Exit Through the Gift Shop, where he is encouraged by Banksy and Shepard Fairey (of Obama Hope fame) to swap film-making for art.
Opinion has been divided since then as to whether MBW is a Banksy hoax, a late developer or an indictment of hype and gullibility in the art world. Either way, Mr Brainwash has since designed an album cover for Madonna, sold over a million dollars' worth of work in his debut exhibition and had work auctioned at Sotheby's alongside that of Andy Warhol.

So is Mr Brainwash nothing but a huge practical joke, a flipped finger to the world of art? You can get quite Dan Brown about the possible clues if you look for them. The name Brainwash itself . . . labels on the giant paint cans in the exhibition boast 'Improved hiding for better coverage' . . . Banksy's iconic rioter is pictured throwing not flowers but a copy of 'Street Art for Dummies' . . .

The portrait of a brooding Banksy (don't get excited, his face is hidden by a hood) in a Van Gogh-inspired room, ironically an artist whose talent is without question but who sold only one painting during his lifetime . . . hmmm. Also when you leave the exhibition you have to walk either to the left or right side of a rope, one marked 'Exit' and one marked 'Free gift'. Those who wandered down the exit only side and then asked for a free poster were told to go back and walk on the correct side of the rope . . . i.e. to Exit Through the Gift Shop.

Or perhaps Mr Brainwash just is who he is and what may have started as a prank has snowballed itself into reality. Interviewers have commented on how genuine he seems, how the exuberance and optimism of his work appear to be an outpouring of his own irrepressible personality. He describes himself as Banksy's 'biggest work of art' and in an interview published in the Evening Standard said 'Banksy pushed me to what I am today . . . but he didn't know that I was going to run and run!' http://www.standard.co.uk/lifestyle/london-life/meet-mr-brainwash-the-street-artist-taking-over-london-7956384.html

So if he is a Banksy creation - intentionally or otherwise - in going to see a Mr Brainwash exhibition, are you actually going to see Banksy? For his part, Banksy has made him a coat which reads 'Mr Brainwash is a phenomenon. I don't say that in a good way.' and Shepard Fairey has said, 'It was fascinating to observe a lot of suckers buying in to his show'. Confused? I think I need a lie down and a large gin and tonic (not necessarily in that order).

Anyway, back to the exhibition. Mr Brainwash's work has been described as 'happy art' and it is certainly that. Whilst it lacks the scathing social comment that makes much of Banksy's work so compelling, it is undeniably enjoyable; the serious, sober-suited security guard said that the exhibition had had over 2,000 visitors per day and certainly everyone there on my visit was having fun. The atmosphere was very relaxed; once past a cursory bag check (I was allowed to keep my bottle of water, they were more worried about pens, paint or crayons) you just wander around the exhibits, taking photos on your phone, chatting and pointing out new finds.

Pose next to a life-sized London black cab in a giant souvenir toy box, Mickey Mouse fashioned out of antique Coke signs or a 20ft gorilla made of rubber tyres, wielding the ubiquitous pink paintbrush. There are pop icons aplenty from Elvis to Elton; I particularly liked the series of music icons incorporating broken vinyl records (although some photographers of the original images are suing).

Th exhibition is free, runs from 1pm (not 11am as mentioned in Time Out) and has been extended until 7th September.
http://www.mrbrainwash.com/

Is it entertaining? Absolutely. Is it art? I have no idea - ask Banksy.





Yours,
Girl About Town xx

Saatchi Gallery: Korean Eye 2012

The Saatchi Gallery is in the beautiful and perfectly proportioned Duke of York HQ building on the King's Road in Chelsea, less than five minutes' walk from Sloane Square tube, and entry is free. Membership to the gallery is also free and gets you invites to special events, talks and members' evenings as well as advance notice of exhibitions; get proactive and sign up in the online room on the second floor.

Korean Eye is the largest exhibition of new Korean art to date and the first time these artists have been shown as a group. Thirty-three artists were chosen from around two thousand applicants, providing a huge range of influences and styles in the works on show. Here are some of my snippets, pictures and highlights but I strongly recommend you go and wander round yourself and make your own choices (by the way, the gallery is fiercely air-conditioned - bliss on the muggy day I went, but you might want a warmish top).

I found shapes crafted from the porcelain deliberately broken and discarded by ceramic masters when the finished piece is not up to standard; Yeesookyung has taken these unwanted, destroyed pieces and made them into something new and desirable, covering the joins with gold leaf.

One room shows huge pictures with embedded photographs on acrylic like holograms that change as you walk past; people (and clothes) appear and disappear, details change, your interpretation of the work alters.

I loved the mesmerising portrait of an elderly Mother Theresa by Hyung Koo Kang painted in oils on aluminium, and pictures of braided hair painted using a single-haired brush.

Huge, photo-realistic pictures of cacti by Lee Kwang-Ho flank a delicate latticed sculpture in one room, and a selection of vases atop packing crates in another.

Cho Duck Hyun's apparently traditional portraits force their way into the present and trail fabric over the gallery floor, contrasting with Kim Buyoungho's wall-mounted bursts of twigs or aluminium.

The lower floor houses 20:50, a site-specific installation by British sculptor Richard Wilson and my favourite piece in a very rewarding visit. The viewer looks down on the piece from a gallery on to what appears to be a drop of several feet and white rectangles on the floor. As a fan of - but no expert in - contemporary art, I dutifully kept looking and awaiting enlightenment; it was the distinct smell of oil that dropped the penny for me.

The rectangles on the floor were in fact reflections of the ceiling lights, there was only one row of windows, not two. In one of the moments I love in art, when you suddenly have to reassess everything you thought you were looking at, I realised that there was an almost impossibly smooth reflective surface over the whole room, and that it was one of the least glamorous (Chris Ofili aside) substances possible; used sump oil. Deceptively simple, disorienting, genius.

Really, go. If you like contemporary art, I'm betting at least one thing there will make you catch your breath.





Yours, impressed,
Girl About Town xx

Cabaret Mechanical Theatre

If you were one of those kids who used to fight with your brother or sister about whose turn it was to push the button for the green man when crossing the road, then you're going to love this exhibition.

This was pure nostalgia for me. These automata used to be downstairs at Covent Garden where, being fun and free, they were an intrinsic part of a teenage day out along with buying hand made silver earrings from students at the market and hanging out by the street performers before filling up on cheap and fabulous veggie stir fry at Food for Thought.

If you're making a special journey, be aware that the selection here is quite small; the exhibition space is basically the size of a shop and you'll be here fifteen to twenty minutes tops. However, size isn't everything. These wonderful and ingenious contraptions are great fun and guaranteed to raise a smile; there is something about pressing the buttons and making them whizz into action, be it rowing pirates, kissing couples or a lion-tamer retrieving his head from the lion's mouth just before the jaws clamp shut, that is very satisfying in a toddleresque kind of way.

I can't decide if my personal favourite is the man eating spaghetti from his bathtub or the waving Queen, but I marvel at the imagination and workmanship in them all.

I didn't have time on this particular visit. but if you are trekking out to the area, Dulwich Picture Gallery is a short bus ride away and is on my hit list, so watch this space. There are plenty of places to grab a bite or a caffeine fix in the nearby High Street, which incidentally has some very nice charity shops worth browsing for a pre-loved bargain or two.

One word of warning; I nearly pitched up at the Kennington branch of Space Station 65, which doesn't have an exhibition on at the moment, having glanced at their website and just seen a tube station within walking distance. This exhibition is in the East Dulwich site - check their website for details.

http://www.spacestationsixtyfive.com/

Delightful, amusing and free. What more do you want? Go push some buttons.

Yours, making things happen,

Girl About Town xx

Randomness at the South Bank

I confess it freely, I do love the South Bank. The stretch of riverside from the London Aquarium up to the Tate Modern is so chock-full of options, from culture to cafés and markets to mojitos, that you can just wander around until inspiration strikes. Another quirk of mine is that I love randomness - odd, unexpected, intriguing, inspired things - and as you already know, I'm a Girl About Town on a budget. So here, faithful readers, is my hit list of free randomness at and around the Southbank centre this summer.

Get lost in books - literally - at aMAZEme. Two Brazilian artists have created a maze of 250,000 books in the shape of writer Jorge Luis Borge's fingerprint on the floor of the Clore Ballroom in the Southbank Centre. You are invited to browse the top layer (as long as you replace the book) and wander in the labyrinth with fellow bibliophiles as literary quotes are projected onto a huge screen. Over two metres tall in some places, and with one section topped with books in Braille, all the books will go to charity when it is dismantled.

Take a ride in a singing lift. Right next to aMAZEme is a glass lift. Wait until it's empty then hop in and press Level 6. When you get there and you've stopped laughing, press Level 1 (it's more fun if the lift doesn't stop in the middle). Now you know what to expect, hang around on Level 2 until someone gets in genuinely wanting to go up a few floors, and watch their faces. Thank you, Turner Prize winner Martin Creed, this is genius.

Find yourself. Head out to the Riverside Terrace and you'll see a large map of the world on the floor. That wouldn't be enough to qualify as random for me, but it's made out of one million Lego bricks. That qualifies.

Muse under a baobab tree. As part of the Festival of the World a giant baobab tree has been created by Pirate Technics and Textile Design students from Chelsea College of Art and Design. Traditionally the baobab tree is a centre of community gatherings or quiet contemplation; this sculpture has been made from rings of fabric from across the world, with each ring representing a different community, so there's plenty to think about.

Down a tequila in a shipping container. Wahaca have brought their award-winning Mexican street food to the South Bank with this quirky pop-up restaurant built from eight shipping containers and offering some pretty awesome views over the river. Okay so it's not free, but I was thirsty. Oh, and the food is great too.

These are some of the reasons that I love this city.





Yours, randomly

Girl About Town xx

Gormley at the White Cube, plus a little Cock and Bull

As a fan of contemporary art, Antony Gormley rates as one of my top three living artists; his incredible Blind Light at the Hayward in 2007 is still my favourite exhibition of all time. I also love the White Cube gallery in Hoxton Square; as it says on the tin, it's a very manageable 2000 square feet of pure, clean white space which has hosted the very best of modern British art since opening in April 2000.
http://whitecube.com/

Imagine then, dear reader, my joy at discovering Still Standing, an Antony Gormley exhibition in that very gallery until mid-September. Still Standing features Gormley's familiar body forms, but this time constructed from small rectangular cast-iron blocks. In the White Cube they can be viewed from different perspectives as you walk amongst them, with nothing to interrupt or impose upon your experience. Entry is free- check the website for opening hours.

Friends who may not be that into art and would moan and groan at the prospect of a trip to the Tate or the National can usually be cajoled into ten or fifteen minutes at the White Cube - particularly as there are some fabulous eateries dotted around the area. On this occasion I had a particular venue in mind; the latest venture from top British chef and Midas-touch restaurateur, Mark Hix.
http://www.chickenandsteak.co.uk/

The Tramshed (so-called because it is housed in an utterly gorgeous high-ceilinged building that was once a tramway generating station) is a three-minute stroll away and has been hitting the headlines because of its main course menu. Not because it is too confusing, or esoteric, or self- congratulatory, but because you basically have two options: steak and chips, or chicken and chips. End of. My companion looked quizzically at the menu and said, 'What do you do if you're a vegetarian?' The answer? Eat somewhere else.

Hix's pal Damien Hirst has supplied two specially-commissioned pieces; a vitrine of a cow and a cockerel (entitled, appropriately, Cock and Bull) dominating the main floor, and a huge Cow and Chicken cartoon on the upper section - are you getting the common theme yet?
Hix haters have been rubbing their hands together in schadenfreude-fuelled glee, predicting that Hix has overstepped himself and will come a cropper over Tramshed. I'm not so sure.

On my visit we opted for the chicken, deciding to skip the three-dish starter sharing plate as we had been warned that the chicken could easily feed three people; they were right, it could.  It arrived upright, claws intact and legs theatrically to the sky, topped with a ball of stuffing and surrounded by a mound of chips finished in chicken fat and rosemary. The staff were delightful and happily carved for us (returning at regular intervals rather than carving it all at once so that it didn't get cold) and the chicken itself was delicious; juicy, flavoursome meat under a seasoned crispy skin. We shared a bottle of the Tramshed red, a light lunchtimey red designed to complement both main course options, and didn't have room for dessert. 

Tramshed also has a gallery called Cock 'n' Bull in the basement which I didn't get a chance to visit, but really want to: as well as traditional viewing space they are building a unique library based on the recommendations of experts in given fields - say, Alice Temperley and Jacquetta Wheeler on fashion. This is a really exciting idea and I'm looking forward to following it as it grows.

So, am I coming back to the Tramshed? You betcha. Anywhere that serves food this good, showcases British art, and puts the soap and hand cream in the ladies' loo in squeezy udders instead of boring plastic bottles has my vote. And anyway, I haven't tried the steak.

You can have anything you want, as long as it's cow or chicken. Hix, we salute you.

Yours carnivorously,

Girl About Town xx

Take a boat to the beach . . . without leaving London

Spying one relatively sunny day in the forecast of the otherwise underwhelming start to August, I decided I was going to make the most of it and head to the beach - but the coast is hours away and I felt like a languorously idle sunworshipping day not a sweaty trek. So, on with the sun cream and flip flops and off to Browning's Pool at Little Venice, where I boarded a 100-year-old (refurbished) canal boat run by Jason's Trip.  http://www.jasons.co.uk/index.html

You can of course cross the little bridge and take a London Waterbus instead, but did you know that Browning's Pool is named after the poet Robert Browning, who came to live in the area after the death of his wife, Elizabeth Barrett Browning? The guides on Jason's Trip do, and lots more besides. If you want to get from A to B, the Waterbus is great; if you want to learn a little about the history of the canal as you drift along, and the bridges and buildings that you pass, then I would suggest Jason's.

The trip to Camden Lock takes about 45 minutes and goes straight through London Zoo, where you should get a pretty good view of the aviary, and past some splendiferous Nash-inspired villas.  After disembarking I had a brief mosey round the markets, then made my way to the Roundhouse, and Camden Beach. http://www.roundhouse.org.uk/camden-beach

As the song (almost) has it, you got 99 problems but a beach ain't one; those crazy folk at the Roundhouse have turned their outside terrace into a very passable beach, with 150 tonnes of sand, deck chairs, beach bars and games - plus big screen sports for cheering on Team GB and a large covered area in case the Great British Summer doesn't play ball. Do check the website before you set off though, as it is closed on several days for private functions.

Entry is free, on the condition that you don't take your own food or drink (or any glass containers), but the Tiki Hut is well-stocked and not overly expensive; the bars are cash only but there is a cash machine (and loos) inside the building. A very pleasant afternoon was had, sitting in the unaccustomed sunshine, drinking cocktails and eating chips with a plastic fork whilst wiggling my toes in the sand. Quality.

To all my fellow beach babes and surf dudes - enjoy!




Yours,

Girl About Town xx