The Tate Modern
didn't exist in 1968,
but in 2017 it housed an exhibit that I crossed the pond to see. "The Radical Eye" was a collection of iconic photographs amassed and loaned to the museum by Sir Elton John. It was the reason I scheduled this trip for May, and I was anxious to not only view the photographs, but to take photos of other people viewing the photographs. The Tate site confirmed that photos were allowed and I was stoked! I remember....
buying the ticket online weeks in advance and now am in the first group allowed in at 9 a.m. I buy an audio guide and we all (the ticket vendor, audio clerk and I) laugh at how my audio guide and camera strap are entangled. There are no signs indicating that cameras aren't allowed. The photographs are grouped into rooms by categories, i.e., portraits, bodies, objects. The pictures were - well - iconic! My plan is to take a quick look through, then spend some time photographing peoples' reaction to the photos - something I did at the Picasso exhibit in Paris in 2015.
The exhibit begins with André Kertész's "Underwater Swimmer", 1917. It's fantastic - though miniscule! And it provides the opportunity for an immediate reaction.
My favorites of the exhibit were the corner photos of Irving Penn. He positioned his subjects - celebrities and artists - in a corner with minimal props (a stool or rug) and then allowed their personalities to shine.
I was wandering in the final two rooms, taking stock of what and who I would photo, when I noticed "The Suit" - one of the museum staff, a stiff-legged middle-aged white male who kept marching past me. I tried to engage him by catching his eye, but he refused to look at me, keeping his eyes glued to the ground.
This Man Ray masterpiece was the last photo I took. I was standing near Dorothea Lange's Migrant Mother - waiting for a young lady in pink leggings and a yellow top to look at the photo so I could get a somewhat ironic juxtaposition of the black and white, impoverished mother and this brightly attired, affluent woman, when The Suit came striding past again, this time with a woman who resembled a TSA official - little peaked messenger cap, short-sleeved Oxford shirt and flak vest. At some point the TSA-like woman rushed at me. Her vest must have been too tight for she was grimacing,"Madame, taking photos is not allowed in this exhibit." Mind you - I'd not taken any photos in the last two rooms and none while she'd been there. But, as often happens when taken by surprise, words failed, "I'm so sorry," I sputtered."I didn't know." TSA woman scornfully says, "It's printed on the brochure." Well - yes - in fact, it was, on the very last page, in letters smaller than Underwater Swimmer - but who reads a flimsy little brochure when you've shelled out eight bucks for an audio guide.
I am a rule follower. To be accosted in such a manner, really threw me. I left the exhibit, roamed around a bit and exited the same door that I'd entered, but not before checking to make sure - no - there were no cameras with diagonal lines through them, absolutely nothing to indicate that photos in the exhibit weren't allowed. The Radical Eye? Really??
The space, itself, is noteworthy.
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The art? Not so much.
Just outside the Tate, spanning the river Thames and leading to St. Paul's Cathedral is the Millennium Bridge.
London is a walking city. Turning right out of the Tate, I could walk the Millennium footbridge over to St. Paul's or continue on, past buskers and poets, to the Globe Theater.
1968 - the summer of love! What a time to be in the UK - 18 and in London! Carnaby Street was at its peak. Mary Quant was THE designer - the Marmalade's version of the Beatles' "Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da" was Top of the Pops and there were just two BBC channels, named very discreetly: BBC1 and BBC2. Romeo and Juliet was a popular play that year - Glendale College had mounted a production the previous Spring, but I doubt that anyone then could have imagined the production I saw at London's Globe Theater in 2017. Remember the masked ball where the lovers first meet? Imagine revelers dressed as Goofy, pole dancers, Freddy Krueger - all dancing to the Village People's YMCA!!Bet you haven't seen a Romeo & Juliet like that!! I sure hadn't, but I loved it - even the androgynous Mercutio (played by a woman). The play lifted my spirits (that Shakespeare guy really has a way with words!) and the day was capped with a lovely warm river ride down the Thames. 1968 was a great year for memories - but so was 2017!
The Globe is a replica of the original Elizabethan. You can opt to stand with the riff-raff around the stage, or have a seat (which costs more). This was a fine, sunny day in London-town. Imagine Romeo entering - not on stage - but through the crowd. What a treat!
Unlike the Tate, the Globe had copious signage indicating that photos are allowed only before, after and during intermission, NOT during the course of the play - and they are rigorous - admonishing theatergoers (courteously) at the first sign of a cell phone not at someone's ear. Only in Britain would they hand out free hats for sun "protection."
Sony World Photography Awards - 2017
Somerset House
I timed my visit to coincide with both The Radical Eye and the Sony World Photo Awards at Somerset House - where they did allow photos, so long as you credited the artist.
"Gymnasts" by
Yuan Peng
Photojournalist Alessio Romenzi (Italy): I entered this exhibit thinking photojournalism was one thing, and exited with a profound appreciation for what sets true photojournalists apart from the rest of us - courage.
Courtauld Gallery
Somerset House and the Courtauld Gallery share the same courtyard which was popular with the kids on this cloudy May day and even more popular when the sun is out. Hadn't realized the Courtauld was such a beautiful gallery and wished I'd allotted myself more time for it. As you can see from the photos it was uncrowded with plenty of room to sit and enjoy the art.
I could have spent hours there.
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I made reservations for three plays while in London - Romeo and Juliet at the Globe, the Goat at the Haymarket and An American in Paris at the Dominion theater. Both the Goat and Romeo and Juliet were matinees. There is nothing like seeing a live performance. Everything about the experience adds to the drama, comedy, intrigue that takes place on stage. The Goat was at the Haymarket which, I thought, was the same theater in which I saw Hair in 1968. It turned out that Hair played at the Shaftsbury Theater in London - but the Haymarket had the same "old world" feel. I got there early - about 1:30 for the 2 o'clock show and - the bar was open! I purchased a glass of wine and got to talking with the bartender. It turned out I was in the Oscar Wilde room and while I had not entered through the "special" entrance, she told me to keep a lookout for it when I was back on the street. From the room I could hear voices from the stage area but the doors from the halls to the stage were locked. "Are they rehearsing?" I asked the bartender. It turned out, they were. The review had not been great but, let me tell you, Damien Lewis was masterful. It's wonderful to see a great actor at work. And I think it speaks to the professional wanting to give the audience their best when an actor of his caliber rehearses for a matinee. I remember seeing Sir John Gielgud in a matinee in 1968 where he played to us, those poor students in the bacony who couldn't afford the street level seats. We stood up and applauded him at the curtain call. Homeland and Band of Brothers may have made Lewis a household name, but I had to look those titles up on Google - I will always remember this play, Edward Albee's "The Goat" and him in it.
I was really looking forward to seeing An American in Paris - partly because it was the Broadway cast which had gotten outstanding reviews, and partly because I remember the movie and Gene Kelly and the great music and dancing. The only musicals I've seen in the last few years were community productions where the orchestral backgrounds were taped - so it was a real treat to see"live" musicians in the orchestra pit.
While I loved the show, I'm still trying to work out my reaction to the "new". Here you are, you've paid $100 (or more) for a ticket, you've somewhat dressed up, you're in a beautiful old establishment - and - someone comes down the aisle at intermission selling ice cream. Really! (Sigh) The bartender at The Goat told me that I could take my wine into the theater to drink during the show, but I couldn't bring myself to. I like going to the bar for champagne at intermission. I like a little genteel-ness. Still it's new and I'll get used it...maybe.
