Thursday, 8 December 2011

Touching Bosses at Southwark Cathedral:Gazing at The Shard

My last post on Tate Modern described a walk from Southwark Underground to Bankside on the River Thames and the Embankment.  The station at Blackfriars may offer easier access to Tate Modern and I will try it out on a Thameslink trip. 

From the terrace of Tate Modern I could make out the Millenium Bridge and St Paul’s in the City of London and further to the east the development known as The Shard.  In between these two buildings sits Southwark Cathedral, though I could not discern it at first.  I have been to St Paul’s on my own and was at lunch down the hill a couple of weeks ago, when the protestors were being given the notice to quit. 

Southwark Cathedral is more tranquil at the moment, though has also had moments of glory in its own way.  My friend is always looking out for aspects of architecture and masonry for me to inspect.  Concrete, rag stone and Portland stone have to be inspected.  This Anglican Cathedral has an interesting past and the status of the cathedral and diocese may be of interest to some.  Patiently reading the notice board to me, my friend noted the heraldry on display.  We know enough heraldry to squirm at the faux pas ‘Bar Sinister’ beloved of creative writing.  (Heraldists claim that Heraldry is a Science and in my mind it is as relevant as ornithology to birds, to quote the late Richard Feynman, but I could be treading on dangerous waters.)  Suffice it to say that terms such a: rebus, canting, charges, chevron and quarters are familiar. 

We wandered round the cathedral and there was a rehearsal for a service to be held on World Aids Day.   On completing a circuit of the building, my friend picked up an information leaflet and dropped a donation in the box.  Just then, I was approached by one of the cathedral guides who asked me: “We have a copy of this in large print if it would be of help?” 

This was a kind gesture and on establishing that I could not read we were then invited to touch the bosses.  Seating was cleared and we made our way beside the font where some ungilded medieval bosses were on display.  While these objects are interesting to touch they are designed to be on display and to be looked at from below.  The carved bosses are optical tricks and though interesting to touch they do not give a description of the object.  Luckily our guide was able to take me round the boss, which depicted a pelican with a curved neck and beak forming a circle.  The bird was attacking an infant.  I had more luck with the heraldic bosses which are carved with minimum relief.  Knowing some of the rules of blazon and emblazon I could make out the shield of the Gurney and Burton arms.  Burton was a rebus; a play on the symbols a burr (thistle) and tun (barrel). 


There is a concept of canting or puns in heraldry.  The late Queen Mother had bows and lions in her own arms (Elizabeth Bowes Lyon) At this point the guide told us many other things going on in the cathedral community.  My very first post (Blind Faith) was critical of some Church of England churches in the Diocese of London.  The recent problems at St Paul’s may indicate that it is not just a blindness awareness issue.  Many thanks to the guide at Southwark Cathedral for engaging with a visually impaired person.  I felt we were all enriched by the visit.  It may even shed some light on the saying “Gone for a Burton

On leaving the cathedral we passed by Borough Market and approached London Bridge Station.  London Bridge Station is not for the fainthearted.  The station is shared with Underground and National Services.  Before seeking the Underground we gazed at The Shard.  I have often noticed this building as it is visible to me on my peripheral vision, but have always ‘seen’ the triangular figure from a train in the London Bridge area or from a boat on the River Thames.  (I’ve even managed to incorporate The Shard into one of my own paintings, see below.  The image is copyrighted, by the way!)  This was my first gazing at the building from ground level.  It is just possible to get an idea of the building from the taxi rank underneath the canopy.



Tip
There is a lot of construction at London Bridge.  By the time you are acclimatised to the layout it may well have changed.  I know how to get from the National Rail platforms and ask for help into the Underground system.  If you are accompanied by a friend with an Oyster Card make sure that they follow the “touch” tour of the yellow Oyster buttons.  It is often easy for them to “touch” the wrong button and a possible overcharge may result.  This can easily happen as they check that you have glided through the gates.  TFL do reimburse an overcharge but your friend will have to apply for it.

Sunday, 4 December 2011

Gerhard Richter – Panorama : Tate Modern, London

Update: 20th December, 2011

Further to my original post, Tate Modern arranged for an after hours access visit to the exhibition on 18th December, 2011.  This was led by Marcus Dickey Horley of Tate Modern and we had the exhibition to ourselves for well over 2 hours.  Marcus personally greeted everyone and met and made sure departures went smoothly. 

Galleries often have to host corporate events in the evening, so it’s very much to the credit of people like Marcus at Tate Modern who arranges these events so that there is a complete hassle free access to what is a stunning exhibition.  I found out on reflection that by about Room 5/6 one can get a bit of an overload as one progressed through the exhibition and the crowds.

In addition to myself, there was one other visually impaired person, two wheelchair users and another disabled person.  Including carers, chaperons, etc there were around 12 people in total.

Group gathers around Candle (Kerze) with Marcus talking about the painting.

Marcus was able to tell us about the meticulous planning that went into the exhibition, down to fridge magnet models for the paintings and glass pieces.  The assembling of the exhibits was also taken with great care regarding lighting, context and positioning of the very large paintings with some of the smaller ones. 

One of the amazing aspects of Richter’s work is that he continued to paint in a photographic way while experimenting with other abstract art and the use of glass, mirrors in providing some dynamic or even kinetic image on passing by.  This was something I hadn’t appreciated at the time though I did note some of the visual effects his artwork had.  It was also interesting to hear other peoples’ views and how they perceived such artwork.  Various names such as Richard Hamilton and Duschamp and Corbusier were mentioned as the various exhibits were discussed. 

In the room where Richter’s Number 4096 is displayed, there are two large panes of glass in the centre of the room and as we moved around the room, one of the participants was able to give a description of what he saw as he looked between the two panes of glass.  I also discovered that my encounter with the ventilation grills (cane) in front of Silicate may have been intentional as there are covers over many of the ventilation grills and it may well have been planned that this painting was placed above the ventilation grills as a reflection; reflections are a theme of Richter’s works in painting, seascapes and horizon lines, so this may well have been intentional, though I doubt if they considered some visually impaired person hitting the grill with a cane, as the image does have a jarring effect on my peripheral vision. 

Professor Whitestick using a festive cane to demonstrate ventilation grill symmetry on Silicate.  Marcus to the right.

Marcus also told and elaborated on the story of the mystery movements of some of the glass panes and the steel ball (Kugel), that inevitably gets ‘kicked’ around the exhibition!  One of the rooms had many paintings to do with the Bader Meinhof terror attacks in West Germany in the 1970s, while the final room is referred to as the cage, though it has nothing to do with being in a cage or with Max Weber.  It is, in fact, a tribute to John Cage, who wrote a piece of music which has a prescribed piece of silence (4 minutes 33 seconds).

This was a very informal gathering and my thanks again to Marcus for arranging such events so that we’re able to share our own experiences as each of us have slightly different accessibility requirements.  We continued our discussion at the end, when our group sat and chatted about access to the arts, retail and travel. 

Many thanks again to Marcus and Tate Modern for showing us around and also for taking us ‘back stage’ on a touch tour of the turbine hall walls to the parking area.   Marcus can be contacted by phone on 07733-110-244  or by email Marcus.DickeyHorley@tate.org.uk

end of update


Tate Modern is located in the old Bankside Power Station and the building has been adapted to form gallery space including use of the turbine hall.  I have been in “working” turbine halls in Cruachan (hydro), Chapelcross (nuclear) and many thermal power/desalination plants.  These spaces are cavernous, as your ears soon detect.  I had been to Tate Modern before with a friend about 8 years ago and enjoyed the visit.  Recently, I have been aware of Tate Modern on travelling on the Thames Clipper and crossing the Blackfriars Bridge by train.  So last week when another friend suggested we go to the Gerhard Richter exhibition currently on, I agreed.  We went via the Southwark Underground station and I may try to do this journey on my own next time by counting the railway arches overhead!

On arriving, I was pleasantly surprised when Emiliana at the desk asked if I could make use of the touch screen audio tour.  I tried it and although I could not navigate the screen, Emiliana gave me details of facilities should I return on my own.  This was a kind gesture as we had not sought any particular assistance.  My friend had been twice before to the exhibition and is used to reading out captions and describing items which I obviously miss and listening to images which I perceive.  We must have spent 2 hours going round the exhibition. 


Richter used a variety of techniques in his art, so a lot of the early paintings seem like photographs, some appear as figures and many are totally abstract.  Quite a few are very large scale and as my friend was reading a long caption I got ‘lost’ in the painting itself, so to speak.

Gerhard Richter was born in Germany in the 1930s and there are themes such as World War 2, Bombing of Dresden and Cologne, East/West German Angst as well as other topics.   The following are notes my friend scribbled down on a piece of paper and rewrote as we were having lunch in the Friends’/Members’ Room.

Mustang Squadron:  I can make out the line of planes with a titled horizon and what appear to be fields below.

Tote – the dead: my friend has written this with an intrusive ‘r’, making it torte.  I could make out a block (could be ice, could be cheese; turned out to be masonry) with something underneath.  A pair of feet indicate it’s a body which has been crushed by masonry from a bomb.  (I note a connection with the artwork of John Issacs at the Wellcome Collection.)

Tisch: there are two figurative artworks – tisch (table) and stuhl (chair).  These remind me of the Hammershoi painting which was described in the National Gallery in October.  To some extent, this is an ‘interior’ genre and I recognised this type of painting in some of Anton Henning’s work. 

Grey beams (grauestrahlen): we had some problem in reconciling the title.  I thought my friend said ‘green beans’ and he himself thought the beam implied an architectural feature!  On a bit of catechesis, I said that the German title had to do with rays of light and we both realised the work referred to beams of light.  This reminded me of a test for the visual field where one’s vision is checked using a device where you have to indicate when you note something appear on the screen.  It’s like playing Space Invaders in a darkened room! 

Himalya: we had some fun with this one, as it’s a monochrome work with irregular shapes.  While on second study it could be a mountainscape, my first thought was of a lady with a wide rim hat and long black hair standing in profile against a snow-covered hill.  Given my loss of central vision and reliance on peripheral vision, this is like a gestalt moment for the brain and I still have a vision of Jenny Agutter playing the soppy role in The Railway Children.  When I mention it to other people they agree with me. 

Alps II: more mountain work


This is an absolutely stunning piece of art and somehow links, in my mind, to the human genome, which again is described in the Wellcome Collection.  Richter has taken 1024 and used four types of paint to produce an entrancing painting.  Geometric shapes at a distance still stand out and it reminded me of one of the tapestries which had been woven at the Dovecot Gallery in Edinburgh.    You can get posters of the painting in the Tate bookshop. 

Grey streaks

Juni (June): this is an abstract painting with some red colour similar to that used in Richter’s version of a Titian painting of the Annunciation.  (I made a joke about the pronunciation of Titian and the painting entitled Tisch, but it went over the head of my friend though allowed me to remember both the abstract painting June and Richter’s version of the Annunciation.  I am reliably informed that this is an example of building a schema.)

Room 12 of the gallery has a space entitled “The limits of vision”.  Two paintings in particular were noted by me: Silicate Silikat, which provide some visual exercise for both those with or without sight loss.  One in particular had an extra feature for me as it was located above a ventilation grill.  Many of the paintings have a security cordon and my cane was able to make contact with the ventilation grill below Silikat, which added to the slight unnerving image which my peripheral vision picked up.  This was an unintended touch tour!

The above notes were collated after having been through the eyes, ears and hands of several people.  I am going back to this exhibition by kind invitation of Tate Modern and will endeavour to report back any other notes that I make.  I think I ought to invest in a decent digital recorder, but one still has the problem of tagging the notes to the right painting.  This is a working post and will be revised over the next few weeks.  I’ve tried to make links to both Tate Modern and to some of the images which are available on Gerhard Richter’s website: http://www.gerhard-richter.com  The exhibition runs till 8th January 2012.

Many thanks to Emiliana and my friend who took me and wrote down my comments and observations for posterity!

Wednesday, 30 November 2011

Stamp collecting connects a Hoare with a Durer

The working title for this blog post was ‘A Hoare with a Durer’, but on reflection I thought it best to edit it …

I heard an interview with Sir John Sulston on Radio4 and he mentioned the pleasure he got in stamp collecting.  I had already introduced philately into the draft of the Durer painting but I realised that I had collected stamps from Senegal, Gambia, Togo and Dahomey (Benin) and in fact had visited these countries in the 1980s and 1990s.   

I went to my first National Portrait Gallery talk for the visually impaired. (They are normally at 2pm on the last Thursday of the month.)  On account of a mix up on times I was there too early and on discussion with the staff decided to wander around the Tudor and Elizabethan section of the galleries.  Many of the pictures of Henry VIII and Elizabeth were familiar as was Archbishop Cranmer.  I had to ask who someone was and it happened to be Sir Francis Drake.  I then had a fascinating discussion with two other visitors who were passing the time waiting for their timed ticket entry to the Leonardo da Vinci exhibition next door at the National Gallery.  

The group of around 8 people gathered in Room 11 with chairs clustered in front of a portrait of Ayuba Suleiman Diallo painted by William Hoare of Bath in 1733.  (http://www.npg.org.uk/collections/search/person/mp122558/ayuba-suleiman-diallo-job-ben-solomon?search=sas&sText=ayuba) We were given an A3 reproduction of the painting which is the centre piece of a group of portraits of Methodist movers and shakers of the time such as Whitefield and Selina, Countess of Hastings.  The painting has been purchased by a museum in Qatar and will be on show in the NPG until 2015. 

The painting is a ‘challenging’ one in several ways.  Diallo was a slave trader from the modern day Senegal and Gambia area, and had wandered across the Gambia River into a different tribal area where he was captured. Face and beard shaved, he was shipped to Maryland in the American Colonies.  While a slave he was noted for his appearance and demeanour and with some bad luck was shipped to England where he was bonded until released for £59. 

Diallo is said to be the first African ‘Moslem’ to be painted in England and the NPG wanted to keep the picture.  There is a lot of context to this painting and much of the records of Diallo exist in contemporary notes.  He is described as an Islamic priest and he did not drink alcohol or eat pork.  He is said to have been reluctant to have his portrait done for fear of it being idolatrous.  On the other hand he wanted to be painted wearing clothes appropriate to his status in Africa.  He is portrayed wearing a white turban with a red cap on top.  I could make out the turban though the cap eluded me.  I queried the robes said to be of silk as the Quran forbids men to wear silk - or gold for that matter.  Much was made of Diallo’s scholarship in Arabic and he is shown wearing a Quran suspended round his neck. 

Marion, our guide for the painting, was armed with the record of the time and we were able to discuss aspects of slavery, enlightenment, abolition and the portrayal of the “African” of the times.  With a small group and the real painting in view, it is possible to do repeated iterations between the reproduction and the portrait.  Marion was able to indicate triangles of the body and the rectangles of the neck and other features of portraiture. 

Was Diallo idealised as a noble foreigner?  It is delightful that one can have discussions such as these in a gallery space. Dallio was a slave trader who was captured and crossed the Atlantic before returning home.  A lot of moral relativism and an interesting subject matter.  Get there before it goes to Qatar. 

Thanks to the National Portrait Gallery, Marion and Lucy for the William Hoare painting description.  A list of upcoming talks can be found on:


The monthly Art through Words at the National Gallery was Vigin and Child painted by Albrecht Durer in 1500.  (http://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/paintings/workshop-of-albrecht-durer-the-virgin-and-child-the-madonna-with-the-iris)

Durer first came across my radar as a schoolchild interested in stamps. Two of my cousins and my uncles were interested in stamp collecting, and at the time a lot of geography and history could be assimilated through philately.  Ordinary stamps can reveal more about a country than many think.  I remember German (Deutsche Bundespost) definitives portraying Durer and Goethe.  As an 8 year old I hadn’t a clue who they were and my father got me an encyclopaedia and I was told to “look it up”!

As a student in Munich I had access to the Alte Pinakothek and on a trip to the Zwinger in Dresden was told that Durer was unrepresented in London’s National Gallery.  So it was a treat to have the Durer painting ‘Virgin and Child’ in the description series.  There is only one other Albrecht Durer painting in the National Gallery.  It is displayed in a show case near the Virgin and Child and is of St Jerome.

Not much is known about the Durer ‘Virgin and Child’ and the painting could be said to have “form” in many senses of the word.  What struck me was not the red rose robed Virgin, but the shape described by an arch.  While many of those attending the talk were versed in Marian iconography, I could not help being attracted to what looked like a large scallop shell (shades of St James and Santiago).  Eventually the red/orange robed figure and the green background could be discerned.  There was much discussion about the Madonna being clothed in anything other than blue.  Someone said that perhaps the Durer studio had run out of blue (lapis lazuli).

Our guide for the talk was Steven assisted by Jos.  The geometry of the painting was described and we had two enlargements of some details.  The details show trellis work and irises and these lines provide a frame for the figure.  There is also an enlargement of the hair and veil of Mary and a signature showing AD mysteriously on top of the varnish. 

The painting had been authenticated by Lord Clark (father of Alan Clark and Civilisation) It was sold to the National Gallery in 1945 and some doubts as to its provenance arose and whether it was a Durer workshop production.  (http://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/paintings/research/the-madonna-with-the-iris)  One of the group commented that it was a beautiful painting workshop or not.  Modern science came to the rescue with the use of X-Ray and Infra Red techniques. 

The handwriting of Durer as far as the drawing of the painting is concerned could be discerned by looking under the surface.  A lot of the detail of the painting, including the butterfly, moth, vines, lily of the valley and peonies, was noted and some were able to identify the likely symbology of the period.  The painting could be part of an altar piece and Durer was possibly influenced by an artist based in Colmar on the French border. 

The high point of the visit is the actual viewing of the painting itself.  With such clear detail in our minds it is possible to stand in front of a work of art and appreciate it for what one can see.  The image of the large scallop shell did not leave me, even when in front of the painting.  It seemed that Shell Oil had stuck their logo in the top left hand corner!  The next time you partake of Coquille St Jacques think of me staring at the Albrecht Durer painting.

Many thanks to the National Gallery, Steven and Jos.

Sunday, 27 November 2011

Guest post: Concert in the Dark - Amadou and Mariam from Mali

I am pleased to introduce another guest post, this time from Dennis, who has agreed to answer comments on the post.  Dennis is sighted and we share similar views on world music. 

A few weeks ago Dennis said he was going to ‘The East End’ for a concert of some North West African music.  The performers were blind and the concert was to take place in the dark.  I probably muttered that Blind Restaurants were springing up everywhere (I think Zurich was the first in Europe) and that there was also blind football and blind chefs. I was ambivalent and wished Dennis a good time and hoped to hear more after the concert. 

The BBC Radio4 programme In Touch covered the concert very well, though I could detect some mild exasperation in the voice of the presenter and as we are both visually impaired, we are probably attuned to little voice nuances.   http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b0174gm0

Anyone reading my twitter feed will see some comments on blindness awareness and how some organisations in the health, retail and even charity sectors are hopeless.  I had been told by a hospital trust (NOT one that I attend!) that their nurses experience blindness for a day, well a couple of hours.  Many professionals and those “experiencing” blindness as a learning gimmick are rather shallow. After all, the lights come on again and the simulated blindness glasses come off ...

GUEST POST

I'm a sucker for aural stimulation and buy CDs by people I've never heard of on the off chance a track or two, or hopefully more, will transport me to undiscovered countries.  Thus I stumbled on "Sabali" by Amadou and Mariam on a DJ mix album.  The song appealed for its vocals and rhythm.  I had no idea the performers were from Mali, or that they were married, or that they were both blind.

Perusing upcoming events, I discovered they were playing at The York Hall in Bethnal Green in London in a presentation by The Barbican, so I thought I'd don my explorer boots and find out more about their music by going to the gig.  When I paid for the tickets, I learned there would be no "show" as such as the entire performance would be in the dark.  We were warned not to wear open-toed shoes, high heels or strong smelling fragrances.

On arrival at the venue, my companion and I discovered something that looked like an old school hall, but was actually the home for boxing matches, and we were given a card to hold up should we need to leave the performance at any time.  An usher with night-vision goggles would escort us from the hall and we would not be able to return.  We made sure we would not need emergency toilet facilities.

As we entered, a tape was playing of random sounds you could hear in any urban development anywhere in the world - voices, dogs barking, cars.  It was illuminated as if it were twilight and then the lights went out completely, so I could not see my hand in front of me, or the person next to me, and I only knew an usher was walking past by the spring in the floorboard under me.

A cock was crowing on the tape, the sound I associate with imminent dawn, but it remained oppressively dark and I realised I felt unsettled and anxious as daylight stubbornly refused to break.

A man began telling us the life story of the musicians in an intense African accent and I had to listen hard to understand what he was saying.  I realised at that point how much I rely on facial expression and body language to help me understand what people are saying.  The couple began playing their songs.  At first, the music added to the unease I felt.  It was a hybrid of North African Arabic sounds and rhythms with those of the sub Sahara, and jarred in my ears used to western scales and instruments.

Gaps between songs were interspersed with more sounds on tape, more narrative and wafts of intense scents which I assumed were native to the various cities the couple visited during their story and rise to international success.

It took some time for me to relax into the music and to enjoy myself and the event.  As we left, I told my friend that I was sure I had felt breathing on my hands at one point and was freaked out by wondering whose face could, or would, be so close to my lap where they were clasped.  He laughed and told me that the darkness had made his mind wander and at one point, he had saw something light and bent towards it to see what it was.  It proved to be the dial on my watch, so it had been he who had been breathing on me as he bent to look at the light.  I told him he was lucky I had not punched him.

Musically, the gig was, to be honest, nothing special.  They performed "Sabali"' so I was happy, but a lot of the material left me unmoved, positively or negatively.  As an event though, it gave me an inkling, an insight, in to what some people without sight may sometimes feel.  I'm not saying I now know how blind people feel all the time, but it made me realise how much I take sight for granted.

I'm not sure this was the intent of the gig.  Possibly, the idea was to allow the audience - which was capacity and a couple of thousand strong on a third successive night - to experience the music in the same way as the performers.  In the west, we are accustomed to lasers, lights, videos and optical illusions to accompany the sound at concerts, so by restricting us to using our ears and noses and touch, we were in foreign territory.  That's pretty much how I imagine a blind person must feel when going somewhere new for the first time.

If you want to hear "Sabali", you can find it on you tube at


Dennis

Thursday, 24 November 2011

Wellcome Collection: a mix of serendipity and discovery

UPDATE (29 November, 2011)

You can hear more about the mapping of the human genome in the BBC Radio 4 interview with Sir John Sulston (http://www.bbc.co.uk/podcasts/series/tls).  This is an excellent interview with physicist Jim Al Khalili in the series The Life Scientific broadcast on 29 November 2011. Jim Al Khalili mentions Rutherford's statement that only physics was science and the rest was mere stamp collecting.  In this interview, Sir John admits to being both a chemist and a stamp collector!  Sulston is critical of the market driven project which was in competition with the open access sharing of data model which in the end has won out.  He points to the inadequacies of patenting everything as it emerges from the laboratory. 

----

I’d never been to the Wellcome Collection before, though I had a rough idea where it was.  It’s not far from UCH and Euston Square underground station.  I had used Euston Square station before but had always left on the north exit of Euston Road.  Two tourists from New Zealand kindly re-oriented me from the platform and they were quite pleased that I introduced them to the Wellcome Collection as one of them was going back to New Zealand to study medicine after completing her science degree. 

Catherine from the Wellcome Collection had spoken to our local visually impaired group and having passed round some tactile specimens, including a plastic brain, I was encouraged to make a solo trip.  On entering the Collection there is a guard, who offered an accessible lift in case I couldn’t use the stairs.  I was taken to the desk and Catherine was found by one of the tourists who had brought me in.  Catherine took me up the stairs of the building, which was completed in 1936 to house Henry Wellcome’s collection.  Wellcome was a magpie for collecting all sorts of medical ephemera and there is a range of artifacts from the sublime to the ridiculous.  The collection has relatively few captions for the exhibits and there are many informative staff who will discuss items of interest which you might have and also which they themselves enjoy.  It’s very non-proscriptive and as I met Kate and Lizzy (in common with all museums, the staff move around the building) during my two hours at the museum. 

Catherine started off with a work by John Isaacs entitled “I cannot help the way I feel” (http://www.wellcomecollection.org/explore/sickness--health/topics/obesity/images.aspx?view=i-can-not-help-the-way) .  It is a talking point and challenges us to treat those with obesity as somehow less than human.  We then went to an artwork by Andrea Duncan titled “Twenty three pairs” (  http://www.eyeondna.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/08/img-6382.jpg )  This shows the imagery of using an odd sock drawer containing mismatched socks in twenty three pairs to represent a set of human chromosomes.  (DNA genetics, genome)  This encourages a debate on nature vs nurture.  I asked Catherine about the pairing of X and Y.  The final pair were in fact two Xs, so it was a woman! 

Also in this area is a collection of books in a bookcase with the letters “GCAT” – representing the four bases of DNA, adenine (abbreviated A), cytosine (C), guanine (G) and thymine (T).  Near the book of the genome is a robotic analyser which has been running more or less non-stop for 15 years.  The Collection then moves into some of the memorabilia of Henry Wellcome, including a portrait of him.  He has a remarkable moustache and there is a copy of a life mask of Henry Wellcome which can be touched.  I hit the nose first of all and then worked out the other features on his face.  There are several display cases with themes such as ‘the start of life’ and ‘the end of life’.  The end of life cases include reliquaries, and I was able to discuss my visit to the recent Treasures of Heaven exhibition at the British Museum and the Mony Musk reliquary on show in the National Museums of Scotland in Edinburgh.  There are also several vanitas exhibits - http://morbidanatomy.blogspot.com/2008/09/vanitas-figure-wellcome-collection.html )  These were popular in the 18th and 19th centuries during great religious revivals. 

Many types of ethnographic samples of ritual, life and death artefacts are also assembled.  Apparently, one section is quite popular with those on a date.  Whether they were on a blind date is a moot point.  It’s certainly more interesting hearing mechanistic descriptions of the start of life artefacts than listening to some football commentary.  I couldn’t make out much of the detail of the various exhibits, but Kate and Lizzy were only too keen to answer questions of the “what’s this” type.  I remember passing a memorial to children who had died in infancy and a book which had been bound with human skin.  There are tactile exhibits, one of which is the face of a doctor of van Gogh.  This doctor had a pronounced forehead and on reaching to touch the tactile model, the forehead was the first item I sensed. 


There is also a collection of paintings and I was attracted to one of a nun and asked who it was.  It turned out to be the illegitimate daughter of Galileo and she had been packed off to a convent.  In addition, the Collection has copies of works such as those of Bosch.

After saying goodbye to Catherine, I went to the busy coffee shop and got some coffee and cake, with the staff finding me a sofa as the cafĂ© is very busy and popular.  It may be something to do with UCH being adjacent and the exhibits on the first floor but I couldn’t help eavesdropping on two women talking quite loudly and with abandon regarding their exploits (one of them was Scottish and probably not much younger than me).  How delightfully uninhibiting this place is!  It appears you do not have to be visually impaired to cast off inhibitions.  There is a friendly bookshop next to the cafĂ© and I bought some postcards, one of which is an advert for a Burroughs Wellcome product.  The bookshop staff are equally uninhibited as the postcard selection was explained to me.  I had been attracted by a blue postcard and it turned out to be for “Tabloid Laxative Vegetable”.

Prior to my visit, Catherine had emailed me some information about the Collection as follows:

Here is a link to the accessibility page on our website http://www.wellcomecollection.org/visit-us/your-visit/accessibility.aspx 

With regards to our events, please do check the website. Unfortunately our events are very popular and do book up fast however we do have a few drop in events that you can attend. We are unable to provide audio description along-side our events at the moment but please do check some of them out and see what you think.

Many thanks to Catherine, Kate and Lizzy for a wonderful afternoon (19 November 2011).  I think I will attend some of the science lunchtime talks.

Tip:  Euston Square underground station is useful for UCH and there is an underground walkway with lifts to the surface.  The underground station staff are very helpful and on my way back into the station, was taken to the platform.  We discussed tactile markings on the way to the platform and the staff member accompanying me was interested in my comments on platform to train access and the lack of step free access to the trains. 

Friday, 18 November 2011

Blind chemist - Marie Curie - Light Fantastic

UPDATE:
1.  Through Twitter, I have learnt of a student of geology in Gainseville, GA USA.  His university worked out a scheme so that he could 'follow' the contours within a map.  This illustrates adaptive technology which may not be rocket science.

Gainesville State student inspires map for the blind


2.  Regarding solar energy, a talk was recently given at Imperial College by Professor James Barber on the occasion of the Ernst Chain lecture.  The subject was “The Big Bang of Evolution and the Engine of Life” and dealt with the concept of an “artificial leaf” in harnessing solar energy.  I was not at the lecture, but have been advised by a friend who attended it.  More information can be found at the following link:

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I had been telling a friend about a blind chemist who had used Velcro in tactile models as a way of understanding chemical bonds and some reaction mechanisms.  (http://nfb.org/legacy/fr/fr8/frsf0210.htm) My friend searched for blind chemist on a smart phone and was impressed by the tenacity and ingenuity in making some concepts accessible to the visually impaired.  I was at the eye clinic for routine eyelash removal (8 this time) and a medical student was being shown the ropes with my permission.  The ophthalmologist was giving a running commentary on what could be seen on a screen on my eyes.  I commented that I could make out dancing rhombus shapes on waking up. Apparently this is normal and the student was made aware of this phenomenon.  It then dawned on me that I had been talking about benzene rings and that I had been hopeless in drawing them.  At any rate this was hardly the time and place to discuss the epiphanic moment of Kekule and the benzene ring. 

I have been to two interesting talks at the Chemistry Centre in Burlington House.

Harnessing the light Fantastic was the subject of a talk by Dr Nick Terrill of Diamond Light Source Ltd, based in Harwell, near Didcot in Oxfordshire.  (www.diamond.ac.uk) The UK’s national synchrotron facility produces intense light which can be used in researching complex molecular structures.  Various wavelengths of the electromagnetic spectrum can be used to evaluate complex structures, and one of the research projects is looking at organic co-polymers or complex plastics which could be used in the “next generation of photovoltaics, which use plastics instead of silicon.”


Recently, the UK government decided to cut short the FITS (Feed in Tariff scheme) which stimulated a rapid growth in solar cell installations for a fixed period of time based on domestic installation of solar cells on roofs.  An industry had been building up on this and the government has been taken to task by some for abandoning an industry at its early stages.  The question which ought to have been asked was: Is it right that the tax-payer should subsidise an expensive way of generating electricity benefiting only those with the available roof area? 

This topic was very well discussed at a free-thinking talk hosted on BBC Radio 3 at Gateshead recently.  The talk was stimulating and the topic of the Scottish Enlightenment was praised and blamed in the same round for creating an industrial capitalism and the concept of consumption and greed.  I have sympathies with the views expressed by Colin McInnes, though the other speakers too had many good points.  You can hear the programme via iPlayer on:
'Radium' Marie & Pierre Curie
by JMP (Julius Mendes Pirece)
Vanity Fair, 1904

 
On a more reflective note, a lecture celebrating the centenary of the award of the Nobel Prize in Chemistry to Marie Curie was given at the Chemistry Centre by Dr Serge Plattard, the Counsellor for Science and Technology at the French Embassy in London.  (http://www.csap.cam.ac.uk/network/serge-plattard/ ) The chairman of the meeting was Professor Peter F O’Hare (http://www1.imperial.ac.uk/medicine/people/p.ohare/), with Marie Curie Cancer Care connections and research interests.  The lecture was sponsored by GSK.  The lecture was titled "The three lives of Marie Curie", including her formative years in Poland, her dedicated research in Paris and her application of both her discoveries and those of her husband to medical science.  Dr Plattard mentioned that Marie Curie had a mix of being gifted, obstinacy and serendipity.  Occasionally Dr Plattard used tenacity in place of obstinacy , but serendipity was a recurring theme.  During the questions, I asked about measuring serendipity.  There was a political edge to my question as it echoed some of the terminology shared by Sir John Cadogan and his being awarded the Lord Lewis Prize.  Professor O’Hare and Dr Plattard discussed this with me afterwards.  A very enjoyable evening.


The lecture should be available in the next few days to watch on the following link

Wednesday, 9 November 2011

Frank Stella: Connections at Haunch of Venison, London

UPDATE: 1/1/2012

Haunch of Venison is operating from 6 Haunch of Venison Yard (in the Bond Street area of central London).  There is an exhibition until 18 February 2012  "featuring works by many great post war British artists such as Bacon, Freud, Coldstream, Andrews, Auerbach and Hockney." http://haunchofvenison.com/exhibitions/current/the_mystery_of_appearance/

** end of update

A few months ago I was walking past what used to be The Museum of Mankind and wandered in Haunch of Venison, the art gallery (http://haunchofvenison.com) had taken over this space and I made a mental note of the location (Burlington Gardens), not far from Piccadilly Circus or Green Park underground stations. 

A week or so afterwards, I heard a programme on BBC Radio 3 describing the Frank Stella exhibition at Haunch of Venison and it sounded fascinating.  The discussion was about 2-D and 3_D effects and the sensation of being drawn into a painting or piece of sculpture.  I made a mental note to try this out as I had found the visual overload term of other artists to be useful in making some work of art visible to me with my peripheral vision. 

I passed by the gallery when it was closed and a poster caught my eye. (As it turned out, it was for another exhibition!) It looked like a giant red torus or doughnut.  So, I made another mental note that I ought to go when the gallery was open.  This I did yesterday and was thrilled when Charmaine at the desk took me to the installation and when I met my red doughnut, it wasn’t part of the Frank Stella exhibition at all!  It was an exhibition of the works of Edward Barber and Jay Osgerby. 


With one conundrum solved, Charmaine took me to the rooms where the Frank Stella sculptures and paintings are located. 


My peripheral vision picks up lines and stripes, especially if they are repeated and even fractured.  I had described one of the pieces as resembling an earthquake or subduction tectonic plate fault line as portrayed on a geological map. 

There are many examples of tricks of the eye, or trompe l’oeil, in this exhibition and one is never sure from a distance if the piece is 2-D or 3-D as a painting or as a piece of sculpture.  I mentioned to Charmaine that I had been to the Anton Henning exhibition in Edinburgh, and it turned out that Haunch of Venison used to show his work! 

Charmaine was really encouraging in explaining the objects and we shared our own impressions of what the eye could make out.  The gallery doesn’t do postcards, though catalogues are available.  Charmaine had said she would send me some email images of the pieces I enjoyed.  What I hadn’t expected was that Charmaine had made a mental note of some of my descriptions and sent a guide of the works I had enjoyed in an email. 

If you are in London and you have some spare time, visit this gallery before it closes; and if you have any specific requirement, contact them.  www.haunchofvenison.com   This was a piece of serendipity on my part and it illustrates the engagement of many in the arts world if you show an interest in some pieces of abstract art, which would otherwise be inaccessible or may not be on your own radar. 

The pdfs that Charmaine sent me opened straightaway and were read from front to back and all the images loaded without a problem.  They are stunning and while I usually avoid some images on the blog, if you have some residual vision and you like these images you can find out more from the gallery - Charmaine is certainly one of those inspiring and enlightened gallery contacts and a big thanks again! 

Images:

The first is: Barber Osgerby, Corona 1100, 2011, Painted steel wall light, 110cm diameter x 26cm deep




The second is: Frank Stella, Red Scramble, 1977, Acrylic on canvas, 175 x 350 cm





The fourth is: Frank Stella, Bafq, 1965, Fluorescent alkyd on canvas, 238.8 x 274.3 x 10.2 cm.




Let me know what you can make out from these images.


The third is: Frank Stella, Tetuan 1, 1964, fluorescent Alkyd on canvas, 195.6 x 196.2 cm, signed and dated '64 (on the reverse) (this is the Stella in particular that you liked, with the changing lines)