jolly ol' (2)

In the interest of not being chronological...
On Day 2 in London, Anne and I took ourselves to the Tate Modern.
I love this museum. Somehow it is just entirely right in every way.
There is a tangible energy, not unlike SF MOMA I guess, but somehow more lively and noisy. It helped that it was a Sunday and there were loads of families there. In fact, a big draw was the installation of giant hamster-tube-like slides that descended from the 2nd (European 1st) to the ground floor. (Unfortunately tickets were sold out well in advance and we were unable to experience high-speed claustrophobia on that day.)

The aforementioned families were welcomed by a kiosk where they could pick up activity kits, intended to guide them through the art exhibits while preempting tantrums potentially induced by crowds, overstimulation, hunger and parents looking too long at Klee paintings. Anne and I found ourselves momentarily wistful when presented with toddlers, sprawled in front of paintings, happily coloring away on the provided handouts. Our kids would love it here! And what also struck me was how comfortable the parents were with the whole thing. Am I wrong in thinking that we Americans may have actually been more uptight? I myself am always consciously avoiding being one of those moms who assumes that her child's every gesture is ADORABLE to everyone in the vicinity. Watching people veer around my kid's bodies to get closer to a Kandinsky may have filled me with anxiety. At any rate, the feeling in the exhibits was undeniably full of life and good cheer. People chatted and laughed and milled about like they were at a cocktail party.

The unexpected highlight, though, came when we wandered into one of the video installation rooms. Three screens (a fourth was dark) filled the wall. Two or three benches accommodated a handful of patrons. The rest of the audience lined the back wall and clumped on the sidelines. Flashing on the screens in random-seeming, but clearly organized, quick succession were snipets of movies and other footage ranging from the Marx Brothers to The Sound of Music to Jimi Hendrix, live in concert. All were musically themed, some more conventionally so, and each carried its original soundtrack. The result was a delightful cacophony and at the same time an incredibly thoughtful orchestration of these seemingly disparate sounds. At times the soundscape matched up thematically -- all strings, all percussion. At other times they worked in comical counterpoint. Parts made us laugh out loud and parts got us a little misty-eyed. It was amazing to see so many recognizable moments from the films that had tugged on our heartstrings throughout our lives, not in small part due to their soundtracks. Taken all together, the impact was intense. I had an admittedly cheesy moment of identifiying as a member of the global group of movie-goers and music-appreciators. A kind of "I'd like to buy the world a Coke" feeling washed over me. I think that may have been the jazzy section where Denzel Washington was playing the trumpet, so we'll forgive me for getting hypnotized... And near the end, there is a crescendo of screams that is a work of art in itself. The enormity of what the composer had to sort through, organize and edit, humbles me.

Oh, speaking of... his name is Christian Marclay. The piece was called "Video Quartet" and a viewer has kindly posted a couple of excerpts (which of course can't possibly do it proper justice) here part 1 and here part 2

By the way, those excerpts also revealed what I had suspected: one of our screens was dead. Just imagine... it might have been 25% better!