Emin's on the map

Just a quickie. I know she's not everyone's cup of tea (and I've gone off her drastically since I discovered she was a raving Tory that resents paying a high rate of tax) but I can't help but find Tracey Emin's sketches really enchanting and/or haunting.

I managed to pick up one of the tube maps today with her interpretation of it on the front.

I'm one of those sycophantic London-lovers who thinks the tube map is a work of art as it is, but this edition is really welcome- such a beautiful sketch. It's a personal take on the map, might be seen as a bit indulgent, but if I had to make my own version of the underground map, it would certainly only contain ten or twelve stops at the most.

There's a good article about it here.

If you can't make your mind up about Emin, I definitely recommend you read Strangeland. It really changed my mind about her (this was pre-Tory discovery) and made me be more forgiving about her art work, which even now with my bubbling resentment of her, I can't help but love, particularly her sketches, textile work and light installations.

Also, on her entry on the Feminist Art Base, where all artists have to write a statement about their relationship with feminism, she says: When I had my interview for art school in 1983, one of their questions was: “What do you think of Feminism?” My answer at the time: “I don’t.” By that I meant that I didn’t think about Feminism. Of course that’s changed a lot now. I often think about feminism, in an everyday way and in an historic way. But to be honest, being a woman has never stopped me from doing anything I wanted to do. Apart from fuck a man really hard up the arse. I’ve never had penis envy, but I’ve often wondered what it must be like. I know that just having a penis definitely affects your wage packet, but I’m not bitter and twisted. I’m grateful to all the women that work so hard to enable women like me to have a voice. And I’m still shouting.

Which I think is so typical of her, it's very aware, very paradoxical and very exposed. Still not sure I think Tory values can really coexist with feminism, since the crux of feminism is about removing hierarchy and power, but it's still an interesting statement. 

Exploring LGBT Archives at the London Metropolitan Archives

6pm, 22nd February 2012

As part of LGBT history month, the LMA hosted an evening designed as a taster session to introduce the rich and varied LGBT-related material held there. The evening also served as an opportunity to gauge interest in a regular LGBT History month event beginning in May. The evening was hosted by Jan Pimblett, the Principal Development Officer.

LMA is the largest Local Authority Archives in the country, and is the second largest Archives in London (after the National Archives). The LGBT material (that they have identified) dates back to the 17th Century.I just thought I would highlight some of the issues in collecting and identifying material of LGBT interest that cropped up, that I thought were of particular interest:

Before the Wolfenden report in 1957, the majority of LGBT related materials are voiceless, in that it does not necessarily reflect the more human side of LGBT people, and rather focuses on the legal (criminality), the medical and the moral (religion, you’re all evil etc.).

The LMA hold an annual LGBT conference, the starting point for which was a book from the LMA library Homosexuality in Renaissance England by Alan Bray (1982) which relied heavily on the LMA archives and helped to humanise the material held about the gay community.

Contemporary material is disappearing. Because homosexuality was illegal until 1967, many gay men and women who lived through that time are secretive of the material they themselves own, often material has already been destroyed. Because of the secretive and “shameful” nature of the material, it is often difficult to find, people have letters hidden away in their attics, not realising the worth of them in terms of social history. If there were magazine runs, for example, they were often crudely home-made publications with very limited and finite runs.

Contemporary alternative voices are still being lost, stories that have never been written down need to be captured as they are disappearing, the use of oral histories and hidden diaries for example.

Searching for material of LGBT interest in archive catalogues is often tricky, as the word ‘gay’ would not bring up material from the 17th century, whereas words such as ‘sodomy’, ‘buggery’ or, as Oscar Wilde’s criminal record said ‘misdemeanour’ might. It’s important to take a more lateral approach to catalogue searching.

On the same note, it’s important not to appropriate the past with inappropriate terminology, you can’t use the word “homosexual” to describe a classical Greek pederastic relationship between a man and a boy, as the word simply didn’t exist then. “Gay” is a very contemporary term, as are the LGBT initials (which evolves every year, last time I checked, it was LGBTQQI Lesbian, Gay, Bi-sexual, Transgender, Queer, Questioning, Intersex- quite the mouthful).

It’s also important to collect material outside of the typical, ie: queer collections often focus on either sex, or as a document of suffering. While these are important parts of the collective queer story, there are everyday people living normal lives with families, jobs and hobbies that aren’t necessarily ruled by their sex lives, or AIDs or oppression.

Jan recommended we take a look at A narrative of the life of Mrs. Charlotte Charke, which is available as a free Google book. She lived between 13 January 1713 – 6 April 1760 and was a renowned transvestite and lesbian who was disowned by her father. The LMA holds a letter written from her father denying her money and explaining how ashamed of her the whole family is. Very depressing, but fascinating, stuff.

The History Club events will be held 6pm-7.30pm on the following dates: 9 May, 6 June, 4 July, 8 August, 5 September, 10 October, 7 November and 5 December. Email ask.lma@cityoflondon.gov.uk for more information.

bird poo tears

Took pictures of the evacuee memorial in Liverpool Street Station yesterday, because I noticed that some bird shit had landed strategically on the girl at the front to look like a tear. Thought it was pretty poignant. And rank.





More about the memorial here.

for richer, for richer...

This might seem a bit irrelevant now, I wrote it ages ago, but never mind...



I resent the need to tick a ‘Mr’ box when filling in a form, I resent even more that women are bullied into ticking a box that denotes not only their gender identity but also indicates whether or not they are shackled in marriage. I resent that anyone should feel obligated to a title that only relates to them as an individual because society dictates that we should be shoehorned into vague and meaningless subcategories. The only titles that have my approval are those that are earned; Doctor, Professor, at a push Reverend (but don’t get me started on that...). That said it is probably unsurprising that the royal family is an institution I don’t hold in very high regard.

If a Tory government-induced class war and a sea of mass employment hasn’t done it, then April’s royal wedding certainly reminded us that we are living in the 1980s all over again, but this time we don’t have The Smiths to document our melancholy, and extreme make up and skinny jeans are so common place now that it is difficult for our rebellion to be a visual one.

With bland upper-class heteronormativity rammed down our parched throats, I can’t help but beg the question: were we really expected to care about this? I am stunned that even well rounded and forward thinking people seemed to be over-awed with blind jingoistic hyperbole over the importance of the wedding that stretched far beyond the desire for an extra day off work. I would happily have attended work that day and seen the royals flock out in market-stall civvies and concede that they are a superfluous institution that has no place in our beautiful, diverse and progressive country in 2011.

Some would argue that the royal family is an imperative part of our tourist trade, this I don’t doubt, but no one visits London to actually physically see the queen. If the royals all spontaneously evaporated the history would still remain. What’s more, Buckingham Palace could be opened as a public heritage site, which would become a tourist attraction of world wide importance. The queen could perhaps work in the gift shop, so that she could contribute more effectively to the country as a tax payer. As it stands, we perch on eager tip-toes in vain attempts to peer through a far distant and well-guarded window because a cocked flag informs us that an elderly woman who we’re told is of importance and worthy of our affections and attention is in residence.

The very same dangerous right-wing red-tops that, when taking a break from blaming immigrants, gays and New Labour for AIDs, climate change and cancer, berate our benefit system and those who abuse it, seem rendered gooey-eyed and overcome with syrupy sentimentality for the royals, a family that, essentially, do not work and are living off the state.

Their various charitable commitments are purely obligation, partly because they have little else to do with their time but also because they have to justify their existences somehow. Diana broke this mould by investing her heart as well as her face and time to worthy causes, including controversially challenging the taboos surrounding AIDs.

No one should be applauded or celebrated just because of who they are. You will not have seen me lining the roads waving my St. George’s flag like a raving nationalist, more likely was I at home screaming into a pillow at this bizarre royal fever that seems to be contagious. As it happens, I cranked Kate Bush up full volume and had a large scale spring clean of the flat and garden, I didn’t leave the house, I didn’t switch on the TV and I didn’t read a newspaper, I successfully avoided it.

As someone who works in Higher Education, fearing for the implications of the Tory cuts and barbaric fee increases whilst struggling to make ends meet, and as a proud member of the LGBTQ society for whom equal marriage rights with our heterosexual brothers and sisters are denied, was I genuinely supposed to feel enthused about this wedding? Am I expected as a British citizen to feel that a man born into gross and unearned privilege and a woman (who has patronisingly been referred to as ‘common’, which in this case simply means ‘not yet royalty’) tying the knot to induct her into an archaic, patriarchal and irrelevant institution at lavish and unjustified expense is cause for me to celebrate?

I will take a lot of convincing.

Seeds at the Tate

Well, you all know about the latest Turbine Hall farce. (If not, read about it here).

The health and safety concerns seem entirely justifiable, my qualm is that at no point was there any foresight into the fact that this might have been the case. I am no expert, but I think if I was putting months into planning this exhibition it might have occurred to me that porcelain, when trod upon MAY release a dust, and when there are as many pieces of porcelain as there are internet users in China, and people are being actively encouraged to tred on them, the dust might be a bit of a problem.

So I visited after it had been closed off, but I have to admit there was still something quite beautiful about the visuals of it, but it definitely lacked much power as it was clearly supposed to be an interactive piece. As it is, it's quite embarrassing and pitiful, but could have had potential to be one of the more powerful pieces the Turbine Hall has had.

Anish Kapoor

A few Sundays ago David and I braved a drizzly grey day and a pair of horrific hangovers to see the four new Anish Kapoor sculptures in Kensington Gardens.

This is the first:



This was definitely the most interactive of them all (you can see me and David in the middle-ish with umbrellas and unecessary sunglasses), but I found myself getting rather annoyed at a snooty middle-class mother who was trying to appear provocative and arty, but just came across as really tedious. She was with her two children who were enjoying themselves trying to make their reflections upside down and so forth and she spewed something along the line of "now, how does this compare with what we saw yesterday?" after no response (because they were having too much fun) she answered for them: "well, that was very much an exhibition of found artworks, and these are commissioned works that allow you to find yourselves." Silly cow, I'm all for trying to engage children with art, but rather than being provocative, she was being pompous- and interfereing with their experience; they had managed to engage physically with the artwork very well without her prompting them to be "deep". She should have just let them enjoy it and then afterwards on the journey home, asked more of a leading question such as "so, what did you think about it?" or the much underrated: "did you like it?"



This was my least favourite of them, once again I got rather annoyed that the experience was being interfered with. They had guards at this one to stop you from getting too close, which is fine, though a rope would have done. And the guards would come up to you and tell you to view it from a distance so that you could see the peak reflected in the bottom, which was very interesting but I prefer to discover these things for myself. One of them kept saying "people think the point is to try and see your own reflection but it's actually to try and see the reflection of the peak"- FINE, but let people discover it for themselves- if they want to see their faces bloody let them.

Well, luckily the next two you were allowed to interpret in your own way. This red one, from a distance, looked quite ugly, but it quickly became the boldest and most powerful for me. (Possibly helped by the appearance of a swan).

This was the final one, and this was as close as you could get. I'd love to go back and see it on a clearer day, or at least on a day when the sky is a bit more interesting.

It was a nice day out, and definitely worth a look- I just don't get that public art can be policed. Not only physically, but also having your experience interfered with and being told how to approach it. I found it very annoying. David found it funny how annoyed I was- pretty much the story of my life.

x

elephants, quilts and the holocaust

I've just finished three days at uni of lectures, seminars and museum and gallery visits for my 'Artefacts as educational resources' module. Thought I'd share some pictures I took.

Our first stop was the Wellcome Collection to see the Medicine Man and Medicine Now exhibitions. Both of which were very interesting, especially the former, and I found them a lot more engaging than I thought I would given that my interest in and understanding of science is limited. Ken Arnold, the one of the curators for both gave us a short talk and answered questions.

Secondly we visited the John Soane museum, which is an unusual cluttered and disorganised mass of seemingly unrelated artefacts displayed throughout John Soane's house. I found the staff very frosty and elitist, but very knowledgeable about the collections. It was an interesting visit, but I'm not sure how much I really got out of it. The house itself was the sole exhibit in my view, not the individual items in the collection.

The following day we went to the Holocaust exhibition at the Imperial War Museum. Needless to say it was one of the most profoundly stirring and emotive exhibitions I have been to. Beforehand we went to a handling session called In their Shoes, which involved having a freelance Holocaust educator building up narratives about the war around shoes, it was an interesting learning experience, but it was very manipulative, I opted out of handling the shoes because I (successfully) predicted how the session would work, ie: you're holding a shoe trying to gather some clues about when and where it was from and then it would be announced that the shoe was from a pile of shoes removed from Jews who were stripped of all of their belongings when entering the death camps. I really felt for the girl who was holding that particular shoe when it was revealed. I'm not really comfortable with those kind of shock tactics, when I think the truth alone is just as horrifying. The exhibition also had manipulative elements to it, but I wasn't offended by that, as it was a really thorough and well-considered exhibition. It's the only exhibition in which I have been moved to tears, I also learnt an awful lot, and I think that as pop culture is drenched in world war II references it's easy to think you know everything about it, but I was suprised and a little ashamed at how ignorant I was about it. I definitely recommend a visit to anyone who hasn't been.

Here are some snaps from outside the IWM:





This was the first thing I saw in the grounds of the IWM after the exhibition, pretty profound I would say given that it was such a harrowing and eye-opening experience.



On the last day we visited the V and A to see the quilts exhibition. I was particularly looking forward to this one, as it had a piece by Grayson Perry in it, and I figured it would be pretty pertinent to my assignment.

Here is the Chihuly chandelier from the atrium:

The exhibition lived up to expectations, it was an interesting slice of history, although I found the contemporary pieces most exciting, definitely worth a visit.

Here is a detail from the perry quilt Right to Life. I loved it, but was angry about it's display. It's about abortion, but was displayed behind a quilt covered in scriptures, which I thought was a bit obvious and tedious, and it meant you couldn't get right up to it, and had to look at it from about two meters away. Apart from that though, no complaints!

Spotted my favourite of the elephants outside the V and A aswell:

and another good one, I love these being in London, I wish they were permanent.

random london

Here are some pictures from an odd thing that we witnessed a couple of weekends ago:



(thanks david for the pictures)

this was just in the middle of the crossroads by the theatre with the big Prescilla shoe. We rushed over because we saw a crowd (mob mentality and all that) and there was a big Virgin helicopter getting ready to take off. I hope it was a promotional thing rather than (as it said on the side) an air ambulance, as that would sour the experience somewhat. It took off and was extremely loud, I was attempting to communicate over the phone at the time- not a great idea. All of the roads coming away from it were closed off, and there wasn't really a lot of chaos considering it was a weekend. It was all very random.

This happened shortly after we saw a homeless man busking by playing through a traffic cone in that courtyard behind selfridges. I was stood round the corner shortly after while David and Freya were looking in a shop and he walked past looking fairly disgruntled- clearly having been asked to move on. A few moments later, he walked past me again back to his busking spot, and came back round the corner trailing the cone behind him, clearly to find a new venue for his musical pursuits. Tragi-comedy at its finest.

Random random London.

500 Years of Lesbian and Gay Related Material in the British Library

about a talk held in the British Library Conference Centre 9th Feb 2010 hosted by Amy Lame as part of LGBT history month.

I went with high expectations. For a start, a talk at the BL generally will be of genuine academic interests, and given my invested interest in Libraries I thought it would be brilliant.

But it really wasn’t. The speaker, who was a reference librarian (Bart somethingorother) was an embarrassment. He’d been given a three month research break to develop a way of making the LGBT material at the library more accessible, mainly online from what I can gather. His research had clearly been intense, but the parts of it he decided to share were indulgent and just-for-laughs, and the whole charade was campy and cringe-worthy.

It was mostly things to do with erotica, be it early manuscripts or recent porn, and there was some mention about people being hung/persecuted etc. But there was no mention of AIDs? Obviously trying to cover 500 years of LGBT history in an hour is ludicrously ambitious, but you’d think that AIDs would play an important part and be a rich source for some genuinely exciting material? And his quick and flippant references to the legalisation bill and to lesbians were more like asides.

If you didn’t go, you didn’t miss much apart from seeing a manuscript where the word “pooff” first appeared and some fairly bland newspaper articles (which are available online anyway and can be accessed through most good universities) the talk should have been about promoting the massive wealth of unique material, giving an overview of the breadth of it and explaining how it can be accessed and used to educate. Instead it was a flamboyant pantomime of cocks and innuendoes.

I should have known, and not even taken my seat, because as we were entering the auditorium, Gimme Gimme Gimme by Abba was playing by KD Lang... how obvious, embarrassing and patronising.

Here is London, giddy London

I spent my saturday like a tourist. I intended to walk along southbank, but a happy error led me to the north bank of the Thames, and I'd never been along that side before. It was a beautiful and cloudless day and thankfully most of the real tourists were on the other side of the river. I went a bit snap-mad. Here are the pictures I took (albeit in reverse order to how I took them, bloody blogger). Sadly I sat on my camera last night, so this is likely to be my last batch of photos for sometime until I can get it fixed or replace it.

bloody love this fountain:

I learnt two things today:

* you can have a lovely day with absolutely no money in London

* London is VERY well sign posted