Every once in a while someone will ask me what it feels like to do a PhD. Most of the time this question is asked by a friend who desires to embark on one. Often the question is asked when I am in a good mood or at least when I am not in a bad one – it is not unusual for me to be having this conversation over a glass of wine – so I respond to the question in rose coloured tinted wined words that suggest that it is a privilege and luxury to have the time and opportunity to develop oneself and one’s ideas. While not untrue, I am sure I will feel like that again, once I pass my exam, but at this very moment I have this desire to prepare my soon to be colleagues for year three.
Panatone has mapped a diverse range of skin tones and constructed a palette of nudes. I have a ambivalent relationship with skin colour: I realised a long time ago that I do not know what colour I am. By this, I do not mean that I am unable to distinguish colours but on a day-to-day basis, my colouring, nor anyone elses, is not what predominates my mind. In general, I would be hard pressed to pick the exact shade from the pantone shade card for myself or any one I know. Continue reading “110 shades of Nude”
It rained non-stop last Saturday in London. This in itself is neither impressive nor surprising. It is not uncommon for it to rain in September, or for that matter in any month in this city. However, on that Saturday, Beatriz Colomina was hosting a bed-in at the Serpentine Pavilion, which, this year is designed by Frida Escobeda. Escobeda’s design is reminiscent of a wicker-basket and is made up of numerous charcoal-grey tiles. It is roofed by a swoop of a scaled-up profile of the tile where, the ceiling is clad by a reflective surface. The reflections on the ceiling, already distorted by its curvature, ripples along one of its edges pulsating like a poked blob of mercury salvaged from a broken thermometer, where it mirrors the shallow open-air pool. The falling rain would have been a spectacular and pervasive in the ambience of the pavilion, not least due to the reflections on the ceiling as it impacts and disturbs the surface of the pool, but also because the building is porous – in the design of its skin and in the materiality of the tiles. Continue reading “In Bed”
I. Law as a performative mode of practice
In July, I went to the International Criminal Court in The Hague. After a series of security, passport and baggage checks, I seated myself on the audience balcony in courtroom 1. At 12.30 the judge called for recess and we rose to mark respect. As the judges left the room, I too turned to leave, but just then, curtains snaked across the glass fronted balcony. Heavy pale green velvet, slowly cloaked the courtroom and it was then that realised that sometime in the last few hours the line between reality and play, trial and performance was not so crisp anymore.
Essay about Le Corbusier and the staging of the intergovernmental organisation as a type. Further to my essay below here is a link to another essay by Marco Ninno from Aarhus university who talks about how the relationship between the word ‘palace’ and Le Corbusier’s unsuccessful entry for the competition for the League of Nations. Continue reading “Le Corbusier: From Palace to HQ”
In the Eternal Evidence, René Magritte portrays the idealised nude as an assemblage of body parts rather than a whole. Undeniably, at a distance it is still possible to read the image as a single subject; however, as one gets closer to the work the fragmentary nature of the object dominates the vision. The fragments are constructed by a gap that is composed of two distinct elements –the emptiness between the framed canvases that is suggestive of the missing parts of the painting, and the frame around the canvas which defines and articulates the part. The disposition of the canvases on the wall surface in their deliberate misalignment ensures that they appear as if they do not quite fit with each other. Magritte was known as an artist who ‘rendered thought visible’. I would like to suggest that in this particular piece of work, the design of the gap is as much a part of the painting as the fragments itself, and allows the provocations fundamental to his work to reveal themselves – the ideal nude as a set of perfectly formed parts that do not necessarily fit perfectly together. Continue reading “Mind the Gap!”
“In the disposition of the Greek theatre, the audience was closely related to the chorus. It almost entirely surrounded them, and the auditorium was an extension of the orchestra circle…”
“…Although the chorus is still physically present the orchestra is no longer the focus of the action. That role has been transferred to the skene. The orchestra is now a void, looking forward to the time, not far distant, when the chorus has only a vestigial presence; when the orchestra circle, impinged upon on one side by the enlarged stage area and the other by seats of honour for the dignitaries in the audience, has been reduced to half its original extent; and what was once the centre of the action has become a gulf, with the spectators on one side and the performers on the other.”
In April, earlier this year, Wes Anderson’s movie Isle of Dogs was released. I read an article in The Guardian that discussed Anderson’s aesthetics and how it was a look that was easy to copy poorly and without body. Embedded within the writing was a link to a website ‘Accidently WesAnderson’ where Instagram followers uploaded and shared, cropped squares of buildings around the world that could be attributed to Andersonism. A number of these images included images from Jaipur, which in of itself is hardly surprising. The beautiful Mahals or palaces, symmetrical, rendered in pastel marble and sandstone with contrasting saturated coloured inlays of a variety of geometric and floral patterns, a beautiful composite of Rajput and Islamic architecture make quite the perfect set piece.