Yesterday I took a day out from College work and mum-duty to spend a day in London with my sister in law. We crammed a lot in and walked for miles and miles
and it was so much fun. The weather was glorious for the first time in weeks too.
First stop, the Serpentine Gallery in Hyde Park, somewhere I had never been and had always wanted to visit.
We saw a solo show of Emma Kunz, which was unknown to me, and a real pleasant surprise. (She was a healer and a ‘pioneer of spiritual art’. Worth a read of the link. Really interesting.
The Serpentine ‘Pavillion‘ designer for this year as been announced; it’s the Japanese architect Junia Ishigami and it promises to be amazing.
There was only one thing ‘on the menu’ at the V&A for me… The Dior Exhibition. A.M.A.Z.I.N.G. Could have spent ages in there reading who wore what and all the interesting facts… we were on a mission though… so we just soaked in the details and the romance and the skills and the imagination of the designers… and waltzed through, not in dainty stilettos but in chunky trainers. Oh well.
(It was super crowded though too. Literally you had to queue to stand in front of each dress).
(Also, I’m so glad corsets are not in fashion anymore, phew).
…so many beautiful dresses…
And this is from someone who’s sitting at her kitchen table wearing a sack like tunic with no discernible waist and giant pockets. And denim with no hem. And birkenstocks.
There were many take-your-breath-away paintings… I’m not sure about the whole ‘London’ connection though, a bit tenuous if you ask me. We should have probably listened to the audio guide… maybe it’s worth going back for a more in depth session.
Don McCullin’s show did not pull any punches. So powerful. So so… raw.
And then Mike Nelson… I’m going to copy the blurb from the catalogue because I’m not good at explaining these things:
He has transformed the grand spaces of the Duveen Galleries into something between a sculpture court and an asset strippers’ warehouse. He has carefully selected objects from the post-war Britain that framed his childhood – including enormous knitting machines, woodwork stripped from a former army barracks, graffitied steel awnings and doors from an NHS hospital.
After that… we took a boat (a bus boat!) to the Tate Britain, where we shamefully ignored Bonnard (one for another day) and headed for the fun and crazy Franz West.
Crazy being the operative word here.
Who wouldn’t like a giant ‘pink’ thing hanging from the ceiling, eh?
And THEN, after a delicious meal at ‘Tombo‘ we headed home…
I needed a day like this.