As you might have seen, I published a blog post a while ago from a Sculpture Garden that I visited. Without intending for this to happen at all, I came across sculptures in Regents Park a few weeks ago, on my way to London zoo, so this has now become a blog series!
I always find sculptures super interesting because more often than not, they have something weird about them that intrigues me. They can represent the obvious, but also the not-so-obvious, and are up for multiple interpretations (just like poetry!).
I thought I would share a photo collection of the sculptures I found. Let me know what you think of them. Which is your favourite?
A while ago, I came across the quote “Real art has the capacity to make us nervous.” It has stuck with me for a long time, reappearing every now and again when I contemplate the vulnerabilities and sensitivities behind a piece of artwork.
When speaking of art, I think this can relate not only to images, paintings or sketches, but also writing and blogging. They all involve creative sharing. So what makes them real enough to make us nervous, and why do they make us nervous?
Arguably, all art is real. It exists, therefore it’s real, right? However, in the context of this quote, real is perhaps referring to a depth of emotion. It is real because it originates from real feelings and experiences. It is real because it is the artist’s soul on a page.
I think real art makes us nervous because it acknowledges pain that we haven’t yet acknowledged in ourselves. It may be seen as a weakness or a shocking revelation, but if it is seen in this way, perhaps it is only because the onlooker hasn’t yet acknowledged their own struggles. Real art reveals the repressed. It challenges your thoughts in order to find ways you can relate to it. And if not relatable to yourself, to someone in your life.
Real art can be scary. It throws emotions at your face that, ironically, you don’t want to face. It embodies the kind of bravery and confidence we all wish we had. And I think this is what makes real art so beautiful. It doesn’t make me nervous, but it makes me happy – to see someone else accept and embrace themselves regardless of judgements.
How do you feel about real art? Does it make you nervous?
A week ago, I took a trip to a sculpture garden (it was actually about 10 minutes away from where I live so I didn’t really have an excuse not to go!). Apparently it’s only open every two years, so it was perfect timing that I had just got back from university in time to see it – plus student tickets were free!
I can’t say I’ve ever been to a sculpture garden before. I love browsing art and books and all things creative so I knew I was going to love it. It brought out the photographer in me who ran round taking photos of everything she could! So naturally, I’m here to share them with you all!
Have you seen any interesting art lately?
Do you have any suggestions for where I should go next?
“Other visible worlds reach into this world without, however, really forming a part of it.”
This is a quote taken from one of the texts I read this semester for my film theory module. And it stuck with me. I typed it into notes on my phone and it was stored away with all my other ideas for blog posts. And now, suddenly, it’s reemerged.
I wanted to talk about this quote because I feel like it sums up the effect art has on us as people. From literature, to films, to theatre – these things all bring other worlds into the one that already exists. They create new people and new rules and new societies beyond what we have ever really seen. And yet it never actually forms a part of our world.
When we consume art, it naturally becomes part of our mind, since we are thinking about it. However, this is only temporary. We don’t then spend the rest of our lifetimes living within that fictional world; we return to our own world. For me, the world of art does form a part of my world but not in the physical sense; it forms a part of my mind. I read a book and it influences me and perhaps it’s a tiny corner at the back of mind but I have no idea how strongly that might influence my everyday life. Can we ever really tell how much a book has influenced our life?
It’s strange to think that art can change the way we think. In turn, this changes the way we see the world, which means that we may go about things differently. Perhaps this does change the form of the world, in an indirect manner. When you think deep enough, art does form a part of this world in ways beyond what we could ever imagine. Maybe we just like to pretend that it’s only pretend. Maybe we like to stay ignorant to the fact that art has the power to change everything.
What do you think?
I’ve been thinking lately about art and what it means. I was reading something for my module on film theory and it made me think: is all art man-made? What even makes art art?
When most people think of the concept of art, they instantly think of paintings. In the most basic sense, that’s what art is, because it is something that is physically created and expressed via the mind’s capabilities of imagination. But literature is art too. And so are buildings. They’re designed and planned from seemingly nowhere and they represent something abstract. This makes art man-made, since these things all appear from human action.
However, what about sunsets? What about looking out at a field of flowers on a summer’s day? What about the way the snow falls on the edges of the branches, just enough to stay put and not fall to the ground? What about the tilt of a smile when it’s not quite meant to be there and tries to remain hidden but just can’t? What about the sky and the moon and the people you walk past everyday and every little thing in existence? Can’t any of these things be art?
Because if you can find beauty in something, then isn’t it artistic in nature? Maybe you believe in a God and in which case he is the artist of the world, but if you don’t, can something be art if it doesn’t have a creator? If you look hard enough at nature maybe you can find meaning to it, similarly to how you might read a book and see yourself reflected within it. Can’t looking at the sunset or a person’s mannerisms or any simple thing make you feel somehow comforted? As if it’s reaching into your soul on some other level that isn’t quite comprehensible. As if it’s a natural art that didn’t need to be thought up but just had to be noticed.
If these things are art, then art does not have to be man-made, it just has to exist.
At my university (UEA), there is a Sainsbury’s Centre for Visual Arts (and no, it’s not a supermarket, like my friend thought). I decided to go there for the first time a week or so ago, even though I’ve already been here a year (I know, I need to up my game) and it was actually such a cool place so I wanted to share my views with you all!
Although there are some displays which are permanently there, I decided to go to the Brain Clarke exhibition (and as a student at the uni, I got a free ticket too!) It was very quiet walking around. In fact, I was one of the only ones actually at the exhibition, but it meant I had all the time in the world to look around and gather my own thoughts and opinions about the pieces.
The majority of Brian Clarke’s work surrounds the representation of stained glass. It doesn’t only look seriously cool in the light, but I started thinking about why Clarke decided to do this. I thought the transparency of the stained glass perhaps relates to the transparency of us as humans. It seems that Clarke’s work exposes a lot of human emotions and the idea of being able to see into someone’s soul is how we become to understand them, but also understand ourselves.
I think this deeper level of human emotion is what made me feel so connected to the artwork. There were some particular pieces that represented the effects of grief and I really saw myself in these, not in terms of grief but in terms of anxiety. And I think it’s pretty cool how these images of facial expressions could mean completely different things to different people, depending on what circumstances they are in at the time. That’s what I love about art – you’re not only seeing into the mind of the artist, but a lot of the time you’re seeing yourself (because you unconsciously want to know yourself, and sometimes art is the only way you can). I often wonder if the artist thinks about whether we know the proper meaning to their work. But really, does it even matter?
So if you’re an art fan and ever get the chance to see Brian Clarke’s work, I definitely recommend it! Although I’ve only spoken about the stained glass, he also produces a lot of other wacky displays that seem totally weird on first glance, but make for a good think!
If you want to see more photos from the exhibition, I’ve posted a couple more on my instagram here.
I have just got back from my trip to Barcelona where I visited the Pablo Picasso Museum (it’s free for students wahey). I really love art in all kinds of forms but I haven’t had the chance to visit any art galleries in recent years which has been a shame – instead I wrote about my longing for it here. So it was pretty cool to finally get the chance!
I can’t say that Pablo Picasso is my favourite artist, or that I would hang his art on my wall, but I don’t think these things have to be true for art to just be interesting. I have tendencies to analyse art as I look at it and so I ended up walking the halls thinking what does all this mean? What caused it to come alive?
As many of you probably know, Picasso’s artwork is abstract and to many may be seen as child’s art because it doesn’t accurately portray reality as we see it. But I think that just because it doesn’t seem like reality, doesn’t mean it can’t be.
What struck me the most as I was thinking about the way different shapes moulded together, was the way the paintings captured the jumbled nature of the inside of your head, on the outside. It’s almost a reverse viewing of the way your mind thinks except you actually see the struggle to comprehend rather than see a perfectly formed structure of a human being instead. This made me see the whole gallery completely differently. Picasso isn’t just imitating child’s work, he is perhaps imitating how he feels inside but through the conflicting elements of other characters and people. All his portraits are perhaps his way of trying to put himself into the mind of the person he is painting. And wow, do I love this whole idea. It makes me love his work even more.
So if you ever get the chance to visit an art gallery, always remember that there are hidden meanings behind everything (even if they weren’t intentional). Art doesn’t have to be pretty or obvious to be successful. In fact, the ones I like the most are neither.
A while ago I left a comment on this post talking about art and the act of creating and I guess you could say that inspired me to write this now.
It’s weird because as a writer, there’s loads of ways you can go about writing, although the final result is somewhat the same. Sometimes you take a prompt and write from there; sometimes you create a whole character or world before you start; sometimes you just write off the top of your head and see what happens. I think the latter is the most interesting and that’s mostly what I’ll be talking about here.
A lot of the time I have the urge to just write out of nowhere and so I frequently write with no prompts and just see what happens. It’s always strange because as I’m writing it, I don’t really know what I’m saying; I don’t know what anything means, and I’m not entirely sure if it’s the portrayal of my own thoughts or not. However I feel like a lot of the time we are subconsciously aware of what words we are spilling onto the page all along. Whether we realise it or not, they are probably manipulated versions of our own thoughts; things we’ve buried so deep that they only seem to reappear when we accidentally dig them out.
This has happened to me quite a few times. I write stuff without meaning to say anything and then on reading it over think, oh is this actually how I feel? And it’s kind of like writing helps me learn things about myself that I’m not willing to accept or admit in everyday life. It’s kind of like therapy.
And sometimes writing does become exaggerated. It’s hard to draw up a line between imagination and reality when we’re unsure of our own feelings. But whether they’re real thoughts or not, the process itself is still important. It’s still a release in some way. The escapism of writing is what matters most of all.
Whenever I feel the urge to let something out or explain it in a way that normal words can’t, I turn to writing. And that’s what art in general is all about.
What kind of art is your escape?
Do you ever know what you’re creating?
Okay so you probably haven’t heard of this tag before, but that’s because I completely made it up – I want to start my own. To be honest, I have no idea how people go about this but I thought I’d give it a go because why not. So here goes 🙂
- Copy the piece of art given to you by your nominator into the post, as well as these rules
- Analyse the piece of art given to you and what it means to you (you can be as abstract as you like)
- Nominate 5 people to analyse another piece of art of your choice
When I look at this piece of art I see the appearance of an internalised human – as if everything inside has been turned inside out for the world to see. I kind of see the lines as wires that help them function but the way that they are all mixed up suggests a sense of confusion and loss of direction within oneself. The empty background sort of coincides with the loneliness and shell they are hidden within and yet the wires are somewhat poking out of this shell in places. Others can see these poking wires but perhaps they don’t notice them – perhaps they do but they cannot work out what it means; don’t want to know what it means. So the figure feels so disassociated with the world they are left as a mere shadow with no clear facial features or expressions. They have an outline but everything else is skewed. They are undeniably unknown to the world. Can the wires be fixed? Are the wires replaceable?
And here is the piece of art I’d like you to analyse:
Thanks so much if you continue this! I thought it’d be a cool way to get to know how other bloggers think seeing as art is such an interpretive thing 🙂
i have an urge to just visit an art gallery – to step into a room of people; of unknown minds and thoughts splattered on canvases in the wind. i feel like seeing. i feel like finding a painting i like for no reason other than i see it. and just staring at it; just staring at it for hours and hours until i feel like i know it – until i feel like i know the creator. and i wonder how much time has changed, since i was a child and i would look at this art and see it for its physicality not its depth. and i know i never appreciated it enough. because you can never appreciate something enough when you don’t understand the world. so i want to go to an art gallery. i don’t know why but i want to feel it; acknowledge the change and dig my mind in the process. as art fills up the rooms worries die inside our heads. knowing someone has given up their soul for sale is the bravest kind of act there can be.