Monday, 21 February 2011

The National Gallery

I think the logo is boring. That being said, I'm afraid I do like it more than I like, for example, the Tate Museums' logos, which I find confusing and transient. But other than than the National Gallery's logo's consistency, blahhhh. I suppose its boring-ness could have a point. When I saw the Tate logo next to a work of art, I was distracted by the logo, but when I see the National Gallery's logo near a work of art, or even superimposed on a postcard or an umbrella or a banner, I have absolutely no interest in the logo whatsoever so I am not distracted from the art itself. However, I think it could still be improved. How? I have no idea. I just know that I'm not thrilled by it, but I have no good suggestion of what to replace it with. I do think, though, if I saw a good substitution, I'd know.

I like the van Gogh paintings, for the most part. I'll admit, I'm not entirely thrilled by the still life chair-type paintings, but I love his landscapes and natural subjects. I like the squiggly lines van Gogh often uses. Perhaps it's because I let my knowledge of his life and end color my opinion, but I've always thought the repeated lines give his works a sense of time flying by, a feeling that this moment is stolen and cannot be properly captured because it's about to float away. For example, in his "Wheatfield with cypresses," I feel like the clouds are literally moving, that the painting is more a snapshot, capturing motion in a freeze-frame. The "Long grass with butterflies" painting also seems to capture time passing, but in a different way. Unlike the "Wheatfield with cypresses" or the "Sunflowers" paintings, this piece focuses on a close-up of grass with a distant path in the background. It seems like a photo that was accidentally taken when the camera was pointed at the ground. The background grass seems to be bent in the wind, while in the foreground, bare patches of earth can be imagined. I love the contrast between the pokiness of this piece and the flowiness of the cypresses piece.

I want all of JMW Turner's pieces. My favorite from this collection was "Ulysses deriding Polyphemus." Looking at the piece, I was amazed at the color, the composition, the contrasts, the figures, the story and just everything. I really, really like this piece. I think it would fit perfectly on the wall of my future castle, over the mantle. My sister and I have always loved studying Greek mythology. When our friends were reading "Goosebumps" and "Nancy Drew" to each other, we would take turns reading out of Edith Hamilton's "Mythology." This Turner painting not only pleases my eye, but also brings to mind happy times spent with my sister, something we continue to this day.

I have varying feelings about the wall colors of the National Gallery. On the one hand, I love the richness they create. The bright colors also make the spaces seem less like a gallery. On the other hand, the colors sometimes conflict with individual paintings and sometimes seem chaotic and confusing. Who chose the colors and why? What authority did they have? Personally, I had a real problem with the rooms that were not only brightly colored, but also wallpapered. The scalloped fleur-de-lis-type patterns on the wallpaper seemed entirely inappropriate in a gallery. I really didn't like galleries 33 and 34 for their sky blue and gray-green wallpaper. I also wasn't a huge fan of the tangerine in the Vermeer room. Why tangerine? I remember hearing that tangerine was a popular wall color in the 1700s or so from a castle tour I was on in Dublin several weeks ago, but is this the real reason for the tangerine, or was it simply because all the other colors were taken, and Vermeer was just unlucky? I did, however, like the rich red in the room that displayed the "Execution of Lady Jane Grey" by Delaroche. Though morbid, the red seemed to fit with the painting and the dramatic scene it presented. I also liked the muted gray-brown in the van Gogh gallery, mostly because of the beautiful green marble door frames, which I absolutely loved.

I'm not really sure how I feel about the use of famous art in objects such as umbrellas, handbags, and tshirts. I want to think of it as needlessly commercializing great art, but then again, I find nothing wrong with the sale of postcards of artwork. I find the postcards to be a way for people to remember their trip to a gallery where photography is not allowed, and also as a good way for a free museum to make some money. If I don't mind the postcards, how can I mind tshirts or umbrellas? They're a way to integrate great art into everyday life. Instead of disliking that art is being brought down to every day level, I find it charming that people can access the work of Vermeer or van Gogh or Picasso and surround themselves with the cultural capital that comes with the images of the great artists.

I really enjoyed looking at Renoir's "Gladioli in a Vase," 1874. As an obsessed gardener, I love representations of flowers and plants that are true to form. The gladioli in the painting could be growing in my garden. Really; I have some that are that beautiful coral color. I realize that this is hardly a grand or exotic or limit-pushing piece, but that's what I like about it. It's peaceful. It makes me want to look at it. I'm a simple person when it comes to art: I like pretty things, and I would certainly classify this as a "pretty" thing. Renoir gets everything right, from the flowers to the lighting to the lovely blue contrasting vase. Normally I don't like still life paintings, but with the flowers, it doesn't seem still and boring. I also loved it because of the giant urns full of  real fuscia-colored gladioli on either side of the main staircase when we walked into the gallery. The echo of the real flowers made the painting all the more fun to see.

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