Yesterday was a typical day of traveling with someone, where I wake up super early (was ready to go by 9:30 am) and by the time everyone is ready 4 hours have gone by. Which is fine. My cousin and I have talked about traveling together, going to conferences together, etc, because we like to travel and we do not like to travel alone (and we know we can trust one another). I am surprising myself for the level of patience I have had, most likely because I am so freaking tired over here for one thing, and the other because I have zero expectations for this trip in the first place. And so far I have thoroughly enjoyed myself, even though others might think of my trip as totally lame.
The first thing I can say is that it was COLD yesterday. I froze my ass off the whole day, and the bag and the coat proved to be somewhat adequate (I now wish I had brought in long underwear, my chest was warm but my legs and face frozen). I also did not bring proper head gear, so I either have a fur-lined headpiece, or the hood of my coat, also furlined. I usually hate wearing hats because of what they do to my hair, and yesterday I had bedhead all day long, which somewhat goes well with the English. I had corncakes/crackers with peanut butter with tea for breakfast and then putzed around the house until my cousin was ready to go. I came to her room and watched her flat-iron her hair while we talked for about an hour, her friend Edu gone jogging. We finally left around 12:30 and walked to this somewhat far away bus stop to take a bus to the Waterloo station, because from there we'd walk to the water front to see the shops and track our way to the Tate Modern. I saw a sign that there is an Ana Mendieta exhibition somewhere (I believe it is at the British Film Institute), so I hope to come back one of these days soon. In fact, Rosana and I have talked about spending a day there so we both can conduct some research (and now I am thinking that I might be able to incorporate Mendieta in the "Selfie" article I am writing at the moment), because they have a "mediateque". If I go see her work there this might be the third continent I see her work in, besides North and South America - I am not sure what that means, but we keep crossing paths. This BFI place also seems to have all kinds of other things going on, such as screenings, etc. I will have to go check their site out once I am back online.
We walked through the waterfront, where there was this cool skateboard underpass that I really want to photograph, but felt stupid doing it, so hopefully I'll get there again. There were tons of little stands selling all kinds of foods and stuff, which in appearance and vibe (mostly vibe), totally reminded me of that Weinnacht market in Berlin (not sure what it called, is it Kristalnacht? or am I confusing with the Nazi stuff?). I bought us both a raspberry hot cocoa which helped the walk. The wind was strong and there was little sun shine. We finally made it to the Tate Modern and I realized that this the third time I come to the Tate Modern. The Tate Gallery, the original outpost (I believe it has changed its name now, to Tate Britain), was a few blocks from my residence in Pimlico, in the late 90s, and coincidentally I only went there once (it was beautiful and boring, like so many museums can be); I did buy a poster I probably have it rolled somewhere in my basement. My second trip to the UK took place in 2004, where I stopped here on my way back from India and stayed with Dom and Brendan. That was the first time I went to the Tate (I think I went twice, once with them, once alone to really see things). I do not remember the Milennium Bridge being there, but if it was I am not sure I actually walked through it. I do remember video-taping with an actual video camera (so many it was in that trip, as I took a big camera to India) my walking back and forth on the bridge because I wanted to do another singing video where I mashed the songs "London London" by Caetano Veloso, and "London" by the Pet Shop Boys (which Brendan and Dom gifted me the CD, as it was my birthday).
I only returned to London again in 2006, again, on my way to a festival, this time in Spain. This trip also took place around my birthday, because a lot of these festivals happen in late Fall (and I had a birthday dinner with a bunch of strangers from all over the world, which was actually lovely - on the previous trip I had my birthday in the airplane, so my actual birthday was about 30 hours long in two continents). That trip was very different, I definitely had an agenda, and in the two days I was here I saw one performance piece and went to about 10 galleries (so maybe I skipped the TM?), all of it by bus, which I usually hate, and I never really got lost (I believe there was an underground strike or something like that). I went to the Barbican, the Serpentine, the White Chapel (a lovely Hans Bellmer exhibition), and a bunch of other smaller institutions that were mostly privately owned the state owned. That time I did my research and planned everything days ahead. This time around I was just happy I packed my bag in time to hop on the plane, so all the research will have to take place here, which is a total exercise on patience, doing all of this writing without the internet to fact check (I may do that before I hit publish, so the text might be less fluid after that). At the Tate we went for the public exhibitions, and if I come back there I might pay to see the Mira Schendel exhibition (the catalogue looked amazing). We might actually go back to attend a lecture on Thursday night, which really excites me (coindidentally, the Time Out London has an article about how going to "lectures" is the new hot ticket in town, the hip thing to do - I'll make sure I'll wear my glasses). That was one funny, thing, I barely saw anyone wearing sunglasses out and about, which is not the case in the US even in overcast days. Anyway, we went through the motions of going from room to room, all packed with people that looked cold and tired (I actually saw people sleeping on the couches and chairs), tons of families and young people, all kinds of languages being spoken at any given room. We looked at art, made comments, took pictures, and talked about all kinds of things. Both of us can talk our ears off, but when we meet we are usually surrounded by family, so we barely get time to talk to one another alone, which is weird because we have both lots of things in common (both academics with traveling abroad under our belt), and yet unless we meet alone (which is always rare), we never talk. So we talked about art (it was funny recognizing and guessing artists I did not even think I could, such as Tracy Emin and William Eggleston). Emin had an interesting quilted piece in a very interesting gallery, with Annette Messager (the work did not seem as impressive in person for some reason), and an artist I am not familiar with called Margaret Harrison. Her piece Homeworkers (1977), totally achieved (in a visual sense), what I tried to achieve in my paintings with ASL, only hers worked better (in all truth I think I have one good painting out of the nine I made, and who knows how the last one, still unfinished, will ever look like). If I can I will go back to check it out.
We started on the forth floor and by the time we finished the second floor Edu had arrived from his run and we tried to meet him (we went downstairs by the escalator, but it skipped the floor he was in, so on the way down he saw us not paying attention to where we were going, and on the way up, after we took the up stairs back, we saw him trying to make a phone call to let us know. A few minutes later we finally figured out a way to meet. A couple things about the Tate Modern: the Engine Hall is being remodeled, in fact it looks as though its floor was being torn down, revealing a lower level. This made me think of all the configurations I had seen the space before, when you could slide down (as I think I did, but not so sure), or when it was filled with sound art by Bruce Naumann (I bought the book and DVD, it was pretty impressive, actually, made me think I was inside an engine room actually). It also made me think of Ai Weiwei's seed pieces (was it sunflower seeds or rice?), which I never saw in person but through a million pictures. The second thing about the TM was its wonderful wifi system, which made me wish they were me ubiquitous in London. I still find this lack of connectivity the hardest thing about traveling abroad these days, even though I am totally enjoying my slow pace here. It is not as bad as it could have been, because at least in a few bursts of time I can connect while I am here (so it is not total isolation like I had in Argentina). I guess I'll either have to get over it of have a phone I use in international travels (I might do that with my current phone, once I buy a new one), though I am not sure it is even worth it for trips less than 10 days.
It is monday today, a few minutes past 11 am (where the hell are they?), and now I realize that in less than a week I'll be home again. But back to yesterday. We met Edu, saw some stuff, and looked for the Cafe to eat food, but then it was past 4 pm and I had not had anything besides the crackers at 9 am. The food took forever and it was good (I had tomato soup, chips, and tea, perfect to warm and sooth my cold soul), and again we talked about all kinds of thing (him also being in academia). We finished and walked around the waterfront again, now transformed with more people and the evening lights (it was dark by then). Actually, we first walked across the bridge, which now has blue neon/LED lights, and went to St. Paul's Cathedral. It was my first time inside, and there was a mass just starting. It was kind of beautiful, even though we could not tell if it was a priest or a nun giving the service (as they were so far away and the voice terrible androginous, so distracting). We did not stay or even sat down for the mass, but stuck around for maybe 20 minutes. As it progressed and I investigated the nooks we were allowed to see, the place filled with the smell of incense which was kind powerful. The whole thing was sort of impressive, as the mass started with this mad pipe organ music that seemed completely off tune, but that shook my insides and made all the sculptures and reliefs so dramatic. As I did not approach the altar, it seemed to me that their alcoves and ceilings were highly decorated, while the middle and back of the cathedral was bare. I am not sure if this was to signify a procession or the holiness of the altar and the purity of the nave, or if it was just unfinished. But seeing the decorated walls from a distance, this HUGE and everchanging cloud of incense, hearing the off-sounding pipe organ and the ambiguous master of ceremony transported me to the time, hundreds of years ago, when people came to mass for all kinds of reasons, and this was their paintings and their newspapers, and their television and literature, their photography and ther cinema, and how much what happened within those walls mattered to them.
Eventually we made our way out of the place, and walked around the City area, which seemed like a mix between Wall Street and Georgetown, thought it was not as packed with people. I assumed they call it the City because that is actually the City of London (as opposed to the City of Westminster, which is west of that), but who knows? (funny to think that at one point London was a city without a mayor). We crossed back the bridge and made our way to the boardwalk, had some mulled wine, did a bit of shopping, and made our way to the London Eye, which I had never seen that close, it is enormous. They were giving the last rides of the day, and because it was so dark we decided not to go, so we stayed there for a bit (It was cool to see the Big Ben from there, for sure the locations were planned that way, but I had never put one structure in relation to the other). We made out way around the BFI, around the IMAX theater and went to a grocery store that was tiny but had everything, and bought wine, cheeses and cold cuts for our evening meal, and hopped on a double-decker. We got off the same place we go on (I have no idea how I am gonna see these markers at night, I might have to stick with the underground), and walked back to the residence.
We once again talked for hours, about all kinds of things. I was introduced to this Brazilian rapper called Criolo, which seems to be an interesting figure in terms of what he actually represents in Brazilian mainstream pop culture (he's not at the center and not counter-center either), which may end up pinpointing more to how power and distribution of culture has shifted than how interesting as an artist he is/was.
After many hours of conversation it was time to go to bed. Today both Rosana and Edu go to Birmingham, she will attend a symposium and he will be back to his research outpost, and be back on Tuesday night. I have a couple days alone, which should prove to be interesting, to say the leas
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