Tate Britain

I'm really not a big fan of the Tate Britain's logo. I think it does come across as easily recognizable, but for the wrong reasons. I don't like the blurry word "TATE" at all. I think it's fuzziness is rather annoying to read. Perhaps if the blurriness had more to do with the museum, it would work better, but I don't see the Tate Britain as being blurry. I understand that the Tate is sort of a "chain" museum, but the blurred logo does not accurately represent each museum individually. I also really don't like that the word "Britain" is above the word "Tate." How am I supposed to read that? When I see it, I immediately think "Britain Tate." Honestly, if I were in charge, I would completely re-do the Tate logo for all the Tate museums.

John Everett Millais' painting of Ophelia's death is, I think, a depiction of a very straight-forward reading of Ophelia's role in Hamlet. Millais' Ophelia seems to have fallen into the water, either on purpose or accidentally, but she seems to have no inclination to get herself out, and appears to be slowly sinking with her bouquet of flowers. This is a very naturalistic scene, and Ophelia does not seem out of place. To me, this represents a reading of the play where she has only one option (death), which is somehow the natural outcome of the events that have driven poor Ophelia into madness. In Nicholas Hytner's production of Hamlet at the National Theatre, Ophelia's death seems to be the absolute opposite of "natural." She is dragged off stage after her final outburst by violent-looking men in suits, with the implication that these men (probably under orders from Claudius or Gertrude) are directly involved in her subsequent death. In this reading of Hamlet, Ophelia is a victim of the other characters, but not herself. Though she goes mad, she never seems suicidal, as Millais' Ophelia does. Hytner's Ophelia has not yet given up on life, but is presumably violently forced to relinquish it.

My experience in "The Coral Reef" by Mike Nelson was...disappointing. At first, I hoped the exhibit was one I'd read about in National Geographic and Smithsonian Magazine some months ago, also called "The Coral Reef" (this exhibit is a depiction of a coral reef made from knitted and croqueted material sent in from amateur craftspeople from around the world and I think is on display somewhere in the USA), but nope, this version of "The Coral Reef" is just a little bit different. When I read that Nelson's piece was supposed to show different layers of belief systems, I was intrigued, and excited to see how it would work. I'm sad to say, it didn't, at least for me. I really did not get Nelson's message at all, not even a little. I thought the exhibit was just weird, and not weird in a good way or weird in a provocative, make-me-think sort of way, but just weird for the sake of being weird. I felt like Nelson was presenting me with the most bizarre set of experiences available and saying "Look what an artist I am!" but I was not impressed. The only thing that linked the many rooms and disjointed objects together was the sense of weirdness. I didn't see layers of belief systems at all. I guess I think that just creating something that is strange and weird and bizarre and scary doesn't make automatic "art." I took nothing away from the exhibit, except maybe a sense of extreme disappointment.

Comparing the Tate Britain to the Victoria and Albert Museum is, I think, a bit like comparing apples and sardines. Both have the same general function, but I would never think to compare or combine them, because they're just too different. I loved both, but I think each serves a very different purpose. I felt that the V & A was much larger and sprawling, and contains very different historic artifacts, whereas the Tate Britain is an art museum. The V & A seems to hold more diverse objects, with different historic functions, which makes sense given its experimental original purpose. The Tate Britain is a true art museum, holding classical artworks as well as more modern ones. I like both, for different reasons. I think the Tate Britain is very impressive and fun to look at, and I love that I can always find something new at the V & A to be excited about.

I could never choose a "favorite" object from the Tate Britain collection, so I just decided to pick one that I really like. I chose JMW Turner's "The Bay of Baiae, with Apollo and Sybil" from 1823. I just really liked looking at this painting. I love reading stories of Greek mythology, so the story behind the painting is a familiar one. The Sybil asks Apollo to grant her as many years of life as there are sand grains in her hands, which Apollo does, but the Sybil has overlooked one major downfall of long life: ageing. She has forgotten to ask the god for eternal youth with her long life, so she will now whither away for centuries, cursed by her own greed. I love Turner's depiction of this scene. The setting is so peaceful and full of rich colors and scenery, that the story's rather morbid message provides a stark contrast. I love looking at the exquisite detail in the painting, from the trees to the crumbling buildings to the central figures, but what really caught my eye and made me decide to label this my "favorite object" is the little white bunny rabbit opposite Apollo and the Sybil. For whatever reason, the little bunny adds just that extra bit of whimsy and fantasy and interest. I thought it was by far the most interesting aspect of the work, especially since it's a white rabbit painted against dark shadows, so it's a very prominent figure in the painting. I wonder why Turner included it, but I'm very glad he did.