Sculpture – Page 22 – Brian Micklethwait's New Blog

Helping hands

On that same photowalk with GodDaughter 1, five years ago, that I mentioned yesterday, and a bit earlier than when I took yesterday’s photo, of her and her shadow and my shadow, I took these photos:

You can see how that little mind of mine was working, can’t you? That being one of the amusements of me taking so many photos that comes across years later. I can now see exactly what I was thinking, in a little photo-moment, five years ago.

I encounter an interesting sculpture. (I find that I like sculpture more and more, provided I like it of course.) Then, in the distance, I see a favourite Big Thing, in this case the Big Olympic Thing. I line up the Big Olympic Thing up the sculpture. I line it up again, this time including only that very recognisable top of the Big Olympic thing, and putting that right on top of the sculpture, like a handle. Good. Nice one.

Then I draw back, and take another shot that provides some more context, while being careful to keep the Big Olympic Thing present, to one side. What I do not do, regrettably, is photo any sign or caption which told me about this piece of sculpture. What is it? Who did it? When? Why? What’s it of? There must have been some clue I could have photoed.

Happily, this is the twenty first century, and a little descriptive googling (“sculpture clasped hands” or some such thing) got me to places like this, which tell the story. And it’s quite a story.

Originally posted at Brian Micklethwait’s Old Blog

That Bartok statue again

Yes, every time I visit my friends in Fulham Road, I get out at South Kensington tube, a bit early, and I photo, and then sit on the plinth of, the Bartok statue. Follow that link to find out why it’s there.

Context, caption, and the prettiest photo I photoed of this, this time around:

Music is made up of melody, harmony and rhythm. What I like most about Bartok’s music is the harmonies, of the more “beautiful” and less strident sort. Too many instruments, too loud, or a piano on its own ditto, and he loses me. In other words, I basically don’t like Bartok’s music that much, but I sometimes very much like the sound that it makes. I especially like the very beginning of the Concerto For Orchestra, the Piano Concertos (especially number three), and the string quartets. Oh, and I really like Bluebeard’s Castle, provided the singing is bearable. I especially like the in-English CD I have of it that came attached to the BBC Music Magazine about two decades ago, in which Sally Burgess sings superbly. Memo to self: listen to that again. I presume that Bluebeard himself is the usual industrial drill noise that almost all such singers perpetrate for a living, but it will be worth it for Ms Burgess.

This is the recording I mean. Click on that, and you will discover that you can listen to it too.

Originally posted at Brian Micklethwait’s Old Blog

Orange umbrellas in Lower Marsh

On August 2nd 2013, exactly five years ago today, there was a clutch of orange umbrellas above Lower Marsh. (Also (see bottom right), 240 Blackfriars Road was under construction.) I don’t believe I mentioned these umbrellas at the time I photoed them, and now, I can’t google my way to any sort of explanation of them. But, I think I recall investigating them at the time, and I think they were some kind of advert for an art gallery. This guy agrees that these umbrellas were indeed there, then, but he doesn’t say anything about them either.

Anyway, here they are, as I photoed them then:

The bottom left one looks to me like the head of some kind of oriental feline creature.

Originally posted at Brian Micklethwait’s Old Blog

Two good jokes – and a mystery (and a sign (and a cartoon dance))

Two things got my attention just now on Twitter, both, I think, very funny. I didn’t actually LOL. But I did smile.

First up, this quote:

It is always bittersweet when your relatives bid you fond farewell as you leave for Edinburgh, and only you know how much you are about to defame them for comedic gain.

And next up, this cartoon:

The latter of these two jollities goes way back, and I suspect that the script and the visuals were done by different people. But the first one is bang up to date, and I am hence able to direct you to who originated it, which I like to do.

This, on the other hand, baffles me:

I recognise financial commentator and funny man Dominic Frisby, on the left there. But why do Frisby’s shoes have lightbulbs in them? Who is that other bloke, and why are the two of them waving their fingers like that? Why are they sitting in the eyes of a giant skull? Also, what on earth does this have to do with Brexit? What is it that Remainers have said about such a scene as this, to the effect that it couldn’t happen, or would happen less? Are the above two gents, like the provider of the quote above, in Edinburgh, for the Festival? And have the Remainers said that the Edinburgh Festival this year would be a flop? Yes, that must be it.

LATER: Just noticed where it says spikedmath.com in the cartoon. So I guess that’s where that started.

EVEN LATER: This:

Also:this.

Originally posted at Brian Micklethwait’s Old Blog

The Trump blimp

It continues to be hot, and so the quota photos continue. At least this one is relatively recent.

I walked to Parliament Square last Friday morning, and caught the fag end of the anti-Trump demo. What the demo had consisted of at its height, I don’t know, so my impressions of what went on in Parliament Square, just after the Trump blimp had been brought down to earth, and just before it was deflated by its minders and put in a van and driven away, don’t necessarily mean much. But for what it’s worth, it all seemed pretty feeble to me. There were lots of placards saying how much the holders of the placards hated Trump and wanted him to go home, drop dead, fuck off, etc. But they didn’t seem to want any particular policy to change. They just hated Trump. And his tweeting.

The whole atmosphere was strangely relaxed. It made me think I wasn’t the only non-sympathiser present, attracted to the demo by the Trump blimp, and by the general desire to see what all the fuss consisted of.

When the weather cools down, I might manage some more thoughts about all this anti-Trumpery, for Samizdata, but I promise nothing.

In my photo, it looks to me like Trump owns them, rather than the demoers doing anything to him that he need worry about. But then, I don’t sympathise.

Originally posted at Brian Micklethwait’s Old Blog

Elephants in Sloane Square

And here are two of the best of them, recently photoed by me:

When I was there, about a week ago, there were six elephants in Sloane Square in all. But today is a busy day, so two is your lot.

They will, according to this, be there until July 18th.

Originally posted at Brian Micklethwait’s Old Blog

Heads at the bottom of the Cheesegrater

I like these sculptures. But I didn’t encounter them in a park, the way they are at the other end of that link. I encountered them on the ground floor of the Cheesegrater.

And, of course, photoed them:

The ground floor of the Cheesegrater was only pretending to be a park.

Originally posted at Brian Micklethwait’s Old Blog

Cromwell with a plain background

Yesterday I walked, in bright sunshine, along Victoria Street to Parliament Square, and then across along the river, ending up at the top of the Tate Modern Extension. In total, I took one thousand four hundred and seventy two photos, most of them at the top of the Tate Modern Extension, and most of those of my fellow digital photoers.

But here is just one of the photos I took yesterday, not of another photoer, and not anywhere near to Tate Modern:

That’s the statue of Oliver Cromwell, outside the Houses of Parliament. Read more about it here.

Usually, the background behind this photo is complicated Parliamentary architecture. But just now, work is being done on this architecture, so Cromwell’s background is unusually plain and unfussy, like Cromwell himself, I believe.

I like temporary stuff. And a nice variation on temporariness is when the temporariness is in the background behind something permanent, like a statue outside Parliament.

Originally posted at Brian Micklethwait’s Old Blog

Creature contrast in the City

On the day that England ruthlessly crushed Tunisia at football, with a very late goal, I was checking out the most recent Big Things of the City of London. But there are other things in the City of London besides Big Things, and this is, you sense, deliberate. They’re trying to make the City more than a place of work which becomes deserted when everyone buggers off to the suburbs early on Friday evening. They’re trying to make it stay alive at evenings and weekends. They’re trying to make it the sort of place that people might like to visit, as opposed merely to a place that lots of people find it profitable to work in.

One of the things that signals this effort is sculpture.

On the right is a photo I took of the first sculpture I encountered during my walkabout. Frankly, I wasn’t impressed. The colours are quite nice, but the sculpture itself is too much like a miniature and pretend Big Thing. And why would you want that when you have real Big Things all around you? Standing as it does next to the Lloyds Building, this pile of coloured rectangles just looked feeble and sad.

I much preferred this carthorse:

And this goat:

Here is a link to information about the goat.

Strangely, I could find absolutely nothing on the www about the carthorse. This may be because, rather than being Art, it is merely a 3D advert for alcohol. Those big giant courgettes it is dragging along in its cart are for making booze of some sort, or such is my guess. Or, the silence of the internet may be because this carthorse has only very recently arrived at the spot where I encountered it. Or, the internet is full of stuff about this carthorse and I merely failed to find it, which is the most likely explanation for this not-link.

Whatever. The thing I liked about both the horse and the goat is that they are simulated biological entities, rather than man-made structures like that pile of coloured rectangles. They do not compete with the Big Things, because they are different from them. Instead, they make a welcome contrast to the Big Things.

Big Things on their own are very dull, I think, and little Big Things don’t change that. Sculpted creatures do change this, I also think.