Sexy. Subterranean. Stunning. Subconscious. Stimulating. This week’s travel, to the Museum of Old and New Art, (MONA for short), in Hobart, is brought to you by the letter ‘S’.
1. Having a gallery built deep into the ground is a stroke of genius, setting up an architectural mirror to MONA’s curatorial favouring of a subconscious approach to the artwork on display. And David Walsh’s collection very much favours the subconscious realm. Freud and Jung would have had a field day at MONA. For those who understand astrological archetypes, MONA is very Scorpio, very ‘eighth house.’ It’s the gallery of a man who has made millions from gambling and spent most of it on a collection of antiquities and contemporary art and a gallery in which to display them, built deep into the earth. It is The Underworld. Among the ‘Old’ of the MONA moniker are Egyptian artefacts, themselves dug from the earth from ancient burial sites. Bright blue scarab beetles, mummies, Anubis figures. Displayed side by side with contemporary art in which death, regeneration, power and the body are prominent themes. Continue reading
I have now been writing this blog once a week for two and a half months. Slowly it has emerged what it is ‘about’. Consequently it becomes harder to write. This week I didn’t know whether to share with you ponderings about Bill Viola’s video work ‘The Raft’, my travel to The Palace to see Roy Ayers and Kool & The Gang, my wandering up the road to see a friend’s jazz band, something about Nina Simone, whose birthday is this week…Well, you get the picture. How scary is the busyness of the mind. That said, I’ll just shut up and write.
For an uncharacteristic hangover, I’m blaming the generosity of the Plus One who accompanied me on this week’s travel to The Palace to see Roy Ayers and Kool & The Gang. Running late, we rushed through a bottle of wine over dinner, with me obeying M.’s frequent exhortations throughout the meal to ‘Drink!’ I don’t know why I was so acquiescent, knowing as I do that too much white wine introduces an unwelcome top note of emphatic into my personality blend. Continue reading
This week I went to a storytelling night as part of my friend R.’s week-long, annual celebration of her birthday. We’d booked in a while ago but it turned out to be just the event to soothe my soul at the end of a tricky week. Continue reading
You know that scene in ‘Like Water for Chocolate’ where Tita, outraged that her boyfriend is marrying her sister, cries into their wedding cake mixture and everyone who eats the cake is consumed by longing and heartache? On Saturday I was making scones, trying not to think about the gig I went to on Friday night in case my dear friends came down with a nasty case of post-afternoon tea disillusionment. The true source of my disillusionment was probably sleep deprivation but instead I’ll blame it squarely on Aloe Blacc. Aloe Blacc is an African-American soul singer who may or may not be a soul gizmo manufactured by Apple. Continue reading