Review: A Victorian Obsession (EXHIBITION)

The beautiful painting that you see before your eyes, is called The Roses of Heliogabalus by Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema.

And this beautiful painting is currently on show as part of 'A Victorian Obsession' at the Leighton House Museum.

I'll keep this brief and to the point. The house itself is worth visiting, purely for its Arab Hall. The famous painter Leighton (whom the house belonged to) found himself inspired by the Middle East during his lifetime, and as a result decorated his house to reflect that. This hall is one of the first things you see, and really does take your breath away. (Something you wouldn't expect in the sleepy streets of Kensington.)

Also the price of the ticket included an audio guide, which is definitely worth mentioning as you feel you get a little more for the entrance fee.

Then, as you make your way through the house, more and more paintings are on display (quite honestly I'm not sure whether or not these are part of the permanent collection, or part of the current temporary exhibition. Which has now been extended until the 6th April.) And as you can probably tell, I have a favourite painting that was on display. All the others seemed to lead up to this moment that you would meet the above artwork.

You enter a sectioned off room. Immediately, your nostrils are filled with a heavy sent of roses. Your eyes are then proceeded to be assaulted with this lavish, overflowing, large painting, arousing all the senses. Normally, I find it hard to engage with old paintings, I foolishly have begun to file them away somewhere labelled 'dusty relics' and 'outdated'. Yet here I am, imploring you all to go and see it if you can! Or if not, google it, make the image as large as possible for your screen and just stare.

The painting is based upon a (probably fictional) event concerning the Roman Emperor named Elagabalus (as known as Heliogabalus.) Depicting one of his lavish parties, it shows Elagabalus smothering his guests (to the point of death) with rose petals, released from the ceiling.

And with that I'll leave you.

Now google that painting! (Or stare at the tiny example above.)

Review: Romeo and Juliet - Rose Theatre (PLAY)

Romeo and Juliet. Infamous for their love. A story that we all know. The one that Shakespeare is probably most famed for.

This love story has been retold for over 400 years, and due to such familiarity, it poses a tricky task. Yes, it is probably a safe bet in terms of drawing in various audiences (who doesn't love a doomed tale of star-crossed lovers?) but it is equally risky. Do you change it? Do you add your own interpretation or even words to the masterpiece of William himself? How can you make a 400 year old love story something that contemporary audiences can resonate with?

This current version of the play has a run until the 21st March at the Rose Theatre in Kingston Upon Thames (a leafy suburb of London.) And most likely because of its location, the prices for this play are reasonably cheap. Particularly the tickets that we paid for on our visit last night. The Rose Theatre do this fantastic deal, where (for certain productions) you can pay £8 to sit in the 'Pit Cushions'. This basically means that you sit on the floor in the space in front of the stage. You either bring your own cushion or borrow one from the theatre. Simple. This deal is so fantastic, as you get a very good view. (If not one of the best.) Now, I naively thought that only young people would be snapping up these tickets, but to the far right of me, a pair of elderly ladies seemed to be quite content soaking in the Shakespeare with their cushions. I really think this is a great idea - and it's something I've never experienced before. I'm not sure I could really go back to normal seating again. There is something much more comfortable and informal about watching a play on the floor. (I did cheekily take my shoes off.) I think the reason I loved it so much was because it reminded me of being in Primary School and sitting cross-legged for story time. And this is exactly what theatre is. Just a shinier-more-glorified-adult-version of it.

Now to talk about the actual play (rather than my love for the floor.) This production took some bold risks. From the fact that Mercutio was a woman (which I very much appreciated) to the addition of a character that doesn't exist - Pedro. (Basically a servant of the Capulet household.) It took me a little while to settle into this version and to let go of the Baz Luhrmann adaptation (step aside Leo) but once I did I was swept away by the direction of Sally Cookson. She and the music maestro Benji Bower created a very intense story that pulsated and exploded in key moments throughout the play. There were moments of dance and physical theatre to highlight important emotional points that really gave this adaptation its edge.

Apart from the fantastic portrayals given by both Romeo and Juliet (especially the Nurse, she stole every scene she was in) praise must be given to the set designers. They've created a very dynamic stage, with different levels, that were used most effectively throughout the performance. I was very surprised at the athleticism of the actors, as they ran across the stage, climbed up the set and jumped down again. It really utilised the space and made for a fast-paced dynamic show. By having these explosive moments, they made the emotional scenes even more reflective and more powerful. Having this stark contrast really worked to the play's advantage. And equally made the dance/musical elements of the play make sense and hold more validity in their addition.

All in all, if you fancy a lovely evening (or afternoon) I heartedly recommend paying a visit to Kingston and seeing this adaptation of one of the best love stories to have ever been written.

For never was there a story of more woe,
than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

Review: Whiplash (FILM)

Welcome to Whiplash. A film I only went to see because of its Oscar nominations, and because of its focus around jazz.

Both valid reasons, but if there is one reason that you must simply watch this film, it's because it is great.

It tells the story of a young aspiring jazz drummer and his unorthodox mentor at a fictional prestigious music school in New York.

Throughout its entirety you feel yourself completely enveloped by the film. I was sat in my seat for at least half of the film furiously shaking my foot to the beat (which I hope was neither dragging nor rushing, but simply on point.) What I think is most captivating about this film is its portrayal of honing a skill or talent. JK Simmons' character (the teacher named Fletcher) within the film states that the two worst words within the dictionary are 'good job'. It raises the question of whether they are really? Does it breed complacency or encourage growth? Fletcher believes in the former which partially explains his unusual teaching methods. Is he really inspiring greatness? Or simply breaking the souls of those that have the possibility to do so?

The protagonist, Andrew (amazingly portrayed by Miles Teller) goes throughout the film fighting to reach what seem to be the unattainable standards that Fletcher sets. His fingers bleed, his relationships suffer and so does his sanity.

The film brilliantly plays with its face-paced moments as well as its quieter ones, allowing each scene the space it needs to breathe, much like the set of a drummer. It ticks along nicely, turning in different directions that you don't see coming. This isn't your average run of the mill music film.

Expectantly, the score is fantastic and truly on point, with the musical performances from every actor true if not completely believable.

I'll leave with a simple note on the ending: it's probably the best moment we could hope for. And as with the end of a performance, it ends with a bang.

If you can, go and watch Whiplash. It stays with you long after you've finished watching.

From the RCA to Egon

Today a little trip was had. A trip of worth. A trip of note. A trip worth noting. 

This unusual outing was to see the Work-in-Progress Show at the Royal College of Art School of Fine Art. (Primarily this was seen for purely selfish reasons - inspiration for my own end of year Degree Show.) Now, I'm stating here and now that it really is worth seeing. However, (hence the haste for this post) it's only on this weekend. (10am - 5.30pm) So if you're in the London area get yo'self to Battersea and sniff around those open studios! 

Still being in the studios, and with many of the students still milling around, it's a very casual format of a traditional gallery experience. And I think that, that's nice, because with that comfort comes the ability to experiment and take risks, and that's what some of the pieces on display did. There was one piece in particular (whose name I have no idea of unfortunately) made the most magical thing I've seen from pieces of cardboard and torches. It really proves that you don't need bucket loads of dollar (or the Tate) to make something quite extraordinary.

Now onto the Egon. 

This is my newly discovered Schiele. One of his sister. And although it said she is wearing a hat, I like to think that she has very triangular hair. (But this is all besides the point.)

This is something that is ending very quickly. Tomorrow to be exact. It would help if I mentioned what this was about really wouldn't it? I'm talking about the exhibition currently being held at the Courtauld which ends tomorrow. (It costs £7.50 excluding the £1 donation for adults, or £3 for a student. Which for now is a category I fall in to.) 

Now, as I approached the gallery to join a queue which I was not inspecting, I was wondering whether or not this would be worth it. Particularly when the lady approached me to inform me that the next available slot to purchase tickets, were for 6.30pm. (It was roughly around 2pm as I stood in the queue.) And I wondered is it really worth the hype? It felt that as though because everyone was rushing to buy these tickets, and because they were selling out fast, that you had to go to see it. Simply because everyone else was, rather than the substance of the actual exhibition. Which is a feeling I hate. But it must have worked, because I bought a ticket, and busied myself until I could go to see some works about an artist I didn't particularly know much about.

And I'm very glad I did.

Mostly, when visiting exhibitions similar to this, that exhibit a very famous artist, I wonder why are they so popular? Why this artist? And it's very rare, that I'm in an exhibition, looking at a work, and feel as though I can see the genius that everyone talks about. But it happened this time. Throughout the exhibition, but especially with the image above. This small, pixelated copy does no justice to his mark making, his colour choices, or the shapes he conjures out of the simplest of lines. And maybe that's why I've never been terribly interested in Schiele before. Because in this format, you can't really see it. You're looking, but you can't see. 

And simply because of this revelation, (and the bonus of the cheap student ticket) I would go and see it if you can. It's not the largest exhibition, but it is one of the finest I have seen in a long time.

London Short Film Festival: Animation Selection

Letting you know about a little bit of film biz. LSFF as the title explains is short for the London Short Film Festival that this year is running from 9th - 18th January 2015. This is its 12th year and long may it continue! They have a large variety of different selections, myself choosing the animation one, as I do love seeing how artists interpret this medium differently.

Showings are at various locations I believe. (But for certain being shown at the ICA which is where I went - it lives just off Trafalgar Square.)

It was a rather enjoyable format, cramming almost 2 hours with films ranging from 2 minutes to 17. It made for dynamic viewing, with your attention being held for the duration of the allotted time. There was only one film in the selection that, for me, didn't reach the standard of the others chosen.

And now, it leave me to tell you of my two favourites.

The first is 'Fruit Fruit' by Peter Millard, and I don't need to say anything about it. Because I can show you: http://vimeo.com/82895384

The second is 'Half Wet' by Sophie Koko and unfortunately I can't find this online, so a trailer we have to do: http://vimeo.com/98162947 (I feel the trailer doesn't quite express how amazing this film was, all 7 minutes of it, but if you ever get a chance to see it you definitely should. And you'll know why when you do.)

If you get a chance to grab one of these tickets to see something, definitely do!

Review: Theory of Everything (FILM)

This is a little quick thought burst on the film Theory of Everything. I won't bore you with film details on how long it is or who the director is - but instead I'll bore you with my opinion.

Strangely enough, as I sat there in the lovely cinema that is the Broadway Cinema in Nottingham, I couldn't help but feel like this was an origin story of Steven Hawking (you know, like Wolverine, but only a famous scientist instead.) Not to say that's a bad thing, that's exactly what this film is. It charts the early parts of Hawking's life following his relationship with Jane Wilde. 

In essence, it's not a love story, it's more of a life story. It depicts a man condemned to live only two more years from the discovery of his health condition that causes the muscles in his body to shut down (which he defies). It follows the brave woman who decided to stand by the man she loved, marry, have children, and look after them all as his health deteriorated. It follows the struggles they faced, and what feels like a real-life relationship, rather than one of those written in fairytales (the ones I love so much). 

It is a touching story, which is made more poignant by the fact that is actually happened. And although I did enjoy it immensely, it wasn't a film that I cried at (which is normally unusual for me with films like this.)

The film is rather beautiful and effortlessly flicks through decades very subtly. You could have just literally walked in on their lives during the 70s.

The acting was superb from minor characters to Felicity Jones' portrayal of Jane. In particular a standout performance was Mr Hawking himself: Eddie Redmayne. His transformation was incredible. There were moments within the film when he could only act with his eyes, no bodily movement, no speech, nothing. If anything the film is worth watching purely for his performance. 

And I have but one last thing to note. Although this story is portrayed about being about a scientist that we all know, someone who was overlooked turn out to be the true star of this film. To put it quite bluntly, it's his wife. She did everything for him. She put her dreams on hold to do a PhD in languages, she raised their three children almost single-handedly, all whilst running a home and being the sole carer for her husband. This just proves to show that we never truly know all the facts and how things play out behind the scenes. 

Review: Richard Serra at the Gagosian Gallery (EXHIBITION)

This gallery is a great little find, first and foremost. The Gagosian Gallery. It's situated in North London, just around the corner (okay, probably more like a 10 minute walk) from Kings Cross St Pancras Station. It's one of those 'corporate galleries' that makes a lot of money and knows it (you can tell from the amount of security guards circling the works in their uniform black suits.) From this, you'd expect slick exhibitions showing well-established artists and this is what we get in this exhibition: Richard Serra.

Personally, this is of interest for me due to that 'D' word (dissertation - shhhh, don't speak it too loudly). But also, of general interest. Knowing Serra's previous work (large outdoor sculptures, specifically his controversial piece Tilted Arc, 1981) I wanted to see how his work would exist within the dynamics of a gallery and how they could (or couldn't) successfully pull it off.

And on a whole, I think they did I good job. Being within a gallery space, did unfortunately make me question the level of interactivity that the pieces allowed, and did have to ask one of those security guards whether or not it was allowed. (It was.)

The exhibition consisted of 4 separate pieces, each in different rooms.

1. Backdoor Pipeline
2. Ramble
3. Dead Load
4. London Cross

(Above is London Cross followed by Ramble.)

Each was a large sculptural piece made from steel. Each matched the size of the rooms. I think that spaces given to each piece was clearly given much thought, meaning that no work felt suffocated.

Very brief blurb of each piece:

Backdoor Pipeline - a large 15.2m high steel tube-like sculpture that you can walk through. The way that you see the light shift as you travel through the tube brings about a child-like attitude.

Ramble - as the name would suggest consists of 24 plates of thick steel that you walk in and out of. Some are taller than others, so despite my short height I could see over some. Yet others were too tall. I don't know why I quite enjoyed weaselling in and out of these blocks.  With other people (unfortunately it was empty when I was there) it could escalate into a game of hide and seek.

Dead Load - probably the most disappointing of the set. It is just a block of steel. Just a lump. Which someone was sat drawing at the time of my visit. Which, I'm not going to lie, I couldn't quite understand. He was just sat straight on. Looking at this block of steel.

London Cross - perhaps the most interesting of the bunch. It cuts the room is half, from corner to corner. As you enter you are affronted with a tall wall of steel. Above that is another panel of steel crossing the room again. To see the other side you have to walk back out of the room and into the room via another entrance.

All in all, it's free and interesting to see how these types of sculptures exist inside within this type of space. So I would say - go and see!