Ghost Ship

A ghost ship of rivet dots

Pattern of metal unjointed

A warrior's ferocious footprint

Orderly curves follow the lines

Orderly place as flesh turns

To chaos rot and soil red

Metal rusted into orange

Metal blooded but still here

To carve a shape in time

The host ship carried its crew

Pattern of body disappears

A warrior's honorable departing

On the non existent burial boat of a warrior 

Viking Exhibition, British Museum, 2 March 2014

Some More Social Media Sites

This blogpost came out of a work related article commission to examine recent developments and potential risks of various social media. I published my initial thoughts earlier in the month. They asked me to so the same sort of thing with the more popular sites so I briefly investigated Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter.

Incidentally I found the DMR blog extremely useful in tracking the various stats.

Facebook

There can’t be many people who haven’t heard of Facebook. If you aren’t one of the 1.26 billion users worldwide, they are rarely out of the press. Even our language has assimilated Facebook-inspired changes in meaning; ‘to friend’ - to connect with another Facebook user, or ‘to poke’ - to get the electronic attention of a friend. 

Eyes of Gods: The Interiority of Sculpture

Reconstruction of Zeus

These notes continue on from the lecture on idols. The boundaries between gods and idols are rather blurred; both have a persuasive presence and share the same kind of sacred space. They are not just representations, but for the people who worship them, they are real. This reality demonstrated in the art of the sculptor through application of colour, surface articulation, movement etc. This is the art of hidden depths (real or implied). All idol elements, dressing them etc, are at one level designed to create an inner life/have inner power for the statue. They are containers of something non-physical. 

This inner power is conveyed through their 'voice' as well as through the eyes. The Egyptian Colossi of Memnon started to make a noise after being damaged by an earthquake. They became famous because they realised the possibility of an interior voice. The skill of a sculptor is to make a figure look like it is on verge of speaking, making them articulate in both physical and spiritual form.

Martin Creed at the Hayward: What's the point of a penis?

I don't know how long you have to do something for it to qualify as an old tradition in these electronic times. This is my third nod to Valentine's Day, therefore I am conscious of something almost historically long term about this blog. The first post was Mending Broken Hearts, the second was Hearts of Florence but this, unlike those two, is a review of a resolutely mainstream show. However to reference the first blog post, I introduced it with a rantette about the commercialism of Valentine's Day, when actually all you'd rather do is spend more time with a lover; 'to simply hold hands in a park, giggle in a gallery, or something far more intimate'.

Having listened to some of the terribly middle class reviews of Martin Creed at the Hayward I happily booked two Saturday tickets for the most gigglesome show in town. The weekend hadn't started well romantically speaking. Despite several cocktails and a fabulously cheesy evening of Love Classics at the Barbican [note to self, like bad sex, Bolero should only last 3 mins], I actually felt really rough with an ill timed migraine attack. Still, by 3pm on the Saturday with a restorative river journey behind us, I was ready for any artistic nonsense that Creed could throw at me.