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Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Last night I went to Water rats and saw a band that was good, not that sure about the name, King Rat.
It was overall a good evening, even though the third band annoyed me severely and I can't say why, they were, and this is a new word I learnt, derivative.
Anyway, I haven`t done many things lately but I failed to mention that I saw two exhibitions with Hugo, which were good.
Modigliani and hiw women. Having read the story in Independent on Sunday, Hugo invited me and I said: "I know, it is that painter that painted nudes and he was beating them, he got sick, contracted pneumonia or something, went mad and so on..." Hugo just calmly said: "Yes he got sick, not sure about mad."
There is nothing like some complicated human torture/anguish story to attract me, so we went. It was a good exhibition overall, I like when artists obsess over something and make it their whole life's work to just paint that one thing or in that one style.
I can't say I was crazy over him but I enjoyed it.
Howard Hodkin, hmmm, not sure what to think of this, it is al in all a different concept. Having been persuaded to see his exhibition as well as Constable at tate Britain, I peeped at Constable and immediately decided I am not putting myself through it with the rest of the British aristocrats.
Hodkin was great, I mean I haven't been to Tate Britain in years, it always had this stern image, but it was great.
I don't think it takes a lot to please me visually, one just need to be colourful and I forgive all else, but what offended me regarding Hodkin, was the fact that in some paintings, even though practicaly they are just some paint slapped on the canvas, you can clearly see that he planned it that way, they have a story, whereas the other ones were so obviously just something he played with, came back to, painted over, added some dots, did not even have time to cover what was under it and he probably stored them in the shed but thought, yeah, let's get them out to bulk up the exhibit.
That is my opinion and I am sticking to it. I know nothing about art, by the way. I just know if I am falling in love with an artist. I can't say he made me love him. It was more...beautiful man on the tube showing his tummy whilst holding onto a rail, but devoid of humour...that sort of thing.
Then we stumbled upon this free exhibition, which was really cool. I must say, Tate Britain is funky these days.
It was overall a good evening, even though the third band annoyed me severely and I can't say why, they were, and this is a new word I learnt, derivative.
Anyway, I haven`t done many things lately but I failed to mention that I saw two exhibitions with Hugo, which were good.
Modigliani and hiw women. Having read the story in Independent on Sunday, Hugo invited me and I said: "I know, it is that painter that painted nudes and he was beating them, he got sick, contracted pneumonia or something, went mad and so on..." Hugo just calmly said: "Yes he got sick, not sure about mad."
There is nothing like some complicated human torture/anguish story to attract me, so we went. It was a good exhibition overall, I like when artists obsess over something and make it their whole life's work to just paint that one thing or in that one style.
I can't say I was crazy over him but I enjoyed it.
Howard Hodkin, hmmm, not sure what to think of this, it is al in all a different concept. Having been persuaded to see his exhibition as well as Constable at tate Britain, I peeped at Constable and immediately decided I am not putting myself through it with the rest of the British aristocrats.
Hodkin was great, I mean I haven't been to Tate Britain in years, it always had this stern image, but it was great.
I don't think it takes a lot to please me visually, one just need to be colourful and I forgive all else, but what offended me regarding Hodkin, was the fact that in some paintings, even though practicaly they are just some paint slapped on the canvas, you can clearly see that he planned it that way, they have a story, whereas the other ones were so obviously just something he played with, came back to, painted over, added some dots, did not even have time to cover what was under it and he probably stored them in the shed but thought, yeah, let's get them out to bulk up the exhibit.
That is my opinion and I am sticking to it. I know nothing about art, by the way. I just know if I am falling in love with an artist. I can't say he made me love him. It was more...beautiful man on the tube showing his tummy whilst holding onto a rail, but devoid of humour...that sort of thing.
Then we stumbled upon this free exhibition, which was really cool. I must say, Tate Britain is funky these days.
posted by Martina Dove at 1:49 AM
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