Another Place… near Liverpool

Posted on June 18, 2015 by Robin

Liverpool is a great place to visit. I love its strong sense of civic pride. In a previous era, this vibrant city on the north-west coast of England was a giant hub for shipping and global trade. Now, it’s more famous for two football teams and the Beatles. I have an hour or two to spare and head for Crosby sands on the Mersey estuary. I am going to Another Place… for the second time.

Antony Gormley‘s “Another Place” is one of the UK’s most famous and recognisable public sculptures. It even has its own visitor’s parking! When I arrive, the tide is out. From the concrete sea-wall I survey the miles of open sand-flats on which stand widely spaced upright human figures. They are still, vigilant and uniformly determined. Some are way out on the water’s edge. They all stare defiantly out to the horizon. Another Place comprises one hundred life-size iron figures each of which weighs 650kg and is cast from a mould of Gormley’s own naked body. It is impossible to capture it’s beauty, scope and genius in one photograph.

The Iron Men – as they are called around here – make sure the ships reach port safely.

Those furthest out on the flats watch the turbines turn on the Crosby wind farm. As the tide comes in, the waves break over and then submerge these hardy sentinels.

Sir Antony Gormley was born in Yorkshire in 1950. He came from a privileged background being educated at Ampleforth College and Trinity College, Cambridge. He went on to study fine arts at St. Martins and the Slade in London. His sparkling but unconventional career in sculpture and theatre set-design has brought him awards, prizes, fellowships and honours galore. He was knighted by Queen Elizabeth II in 2014 for services to the arts. Quite some guy!

The Iron Men were constructed in 1997. Before coming to Crosby in 2005, they had spent time on beaches in Germany, Belgium and Denmark. In 2007, a controversial decision by the local council ensured that Another Place has a permanent home here.

I first visited Another Place in 2009 when this photo was taken. The January wind chilled to the bone. The tide was not far out. At an individual level, the Iron Men did not really inspire. Some were waist deep in water. Some, with only their heads above the waves, looked like brave winter swimmers. They held no promise of reflection or emotion. I did not stay long. If I am honest, I couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. I felt only a flicker of curiosity but, fortunately, enough to ensure my return.

Now, in 2015, I see only staggering originality. When describing Another Place, Gormley says: “In this work, human life is tested against planetary time. This sculpture exposes to light and time the nakedness of a particular and peculiar body; no hero, no ideal, just the industrially reproduced body of a middle-aged man trying to remain standing and trying to breathe, facing a horizon busy with ships moving materials and manufactured things around the planet.” I wonder if his notion of time, reinforced through the local council’s decision about the Iron Men’s permanence, would allow him to predict that these figures not only confront and battle the elements but also become their own little sea-side eco-systems.

The further out to sea the Iron Men are, the more encrusted with barnacles, mussels and sea-weed they become. They are no longer industrial reproductions of their creator; each has developed its own tidal personality.

So much for the “who,” the “what,” the “when,” the “where,” and the “how” of the Talking Beautiful Stuff formula; but what about the “… and what does it mean for me?” Curiosity took me back to see Another Place. The conditions were different the second time. I found something that is not only beautiful in its totality but also something hugely admirable both in its concept and in the civic broad-mindedness that makes such an installation possible. Above all, I found the experience of strolling over Crosby sands from one from Iron Man to another totally uplifting.

If you visit Liverpool, do not go to Another Place just because you have an hour or two to spare. Make an hour or two to go to Another Place.

The remarkable “dramagraphy” of Michel Lagarde

Posted on May 30, 2015 by Isaac

“You will never see anything like it” I was told. Oh yeah? Can another exhibition of photoshopped images really be that amazing? Anyway, I hopped on a tram for a squizz at the current exhibition at the discrete but discerning photographic gallery Espace Cyril Kobler. I have never seen anything like Michel Lagarde‘s “dramagraphies.” I repeat: I have never seen anything like it! I thought I knew about Photoshop. But this stuff is funny, charming, bizarre and, importantly, technically perfect.

Les Emigrants

The first piece that catches my eye – because it is so topical at present – is “Les Emigrants.” Fourteen men in old style music-hall clothes are packed into a tiny steam-driven tug boat. Most peer forward. One is the captain. One is trying to catch fish. Others are in a dispute of some sort. One looks directly at the camera utterly surprised. The scene makes me laugh but at the same time, I wonder what the story is. The black and white image is clear and crisp. The whole thing is like a beautifully composed frame from an old silent movie.

I look more closely. All the men are the same man! O… M… G… How did he do that?

L’Escamoteur

“L’Escamoteur” shows a kind of behind-the-circus scene where some scruffy old guy is tricking another in a top hat with the old ball and three cup trick. The gendarmes look on; they are clearly amused but at the same time try to give the impression they have seen it all before. While their attention is diverted, bets are taken and a pocket-watch is picked. It makes me laugh out loud.

Again, all these characters are the same person. Now I understand. These “dramagraphies” are also carefully staged self-portraits. My admiration for Monsieur Lagarde is growing.

Quand la mer monte

The two figures in “Quand la mer monte” are, inevitably, Michel Lagarde himself. At this stage, I really want to know more. After extending a warm welcome Cyril Kobler himself, explains the technical aspects of these images. Indeed, part of the exhibition shows the multiple precise steps in their construction. All were completed between 2009 and 2014.

Lagarde was originally a designer of theatre sets and so has always worked with models. For his “dramagraphies,” he starts with making a model and takes a photograph of it. M. Kobler shows here the single model used for “Quand la mer monte.” From this starting point he uses Photoshop to alter this image and, in this case, re-insert it in perfect perspective. He then introduces other elements including the self-portraits. Everything including all light and shadows are precisely layered in. The final fantasmagorical output is the result of hundreds of carefully composed image-files, gigabytes of data storage and anything between twenty and forty days work. Lagarde’s beautiful stuff is a wonderful constellation of love of theatre, imagination, story telling, lighting and total mastery of Photoshop.

The photographic work of our host, M. Kobler, is also well known. He admits he might be viewed as a traditional. So here he is, putting on an exhibition that is not of photography but uses photography. How does he feel about Lagarde’s work? He is full of admiration. He sums it up in two words. “Truly remarkable!”

El Publico

My favourite, “El Publico” has at least 18 self-portraits. It shows an unruly theatre audience unable to contain its excitement in the stalls. You can hear the shouts and the trumpeting. However, the on-stage action is not in view. These guys have just witnessed something they have never expected to see. Something terrifying. Something outrageous. My guess is that the two halves of the magician’s beautiful assistant who was brutally sawn in two has miraculously reappeared on stage in tact and smiling!

These three Lagardes show their fright, cynicism and astonishment.

This is a must-see exhibition. So get on the number 12 tram. Get off at “Peillonnex.” Take the family. Take your friends. You will never see anything like it!

Is this beautiful?

Posted on May 23, 2015 by Robin

Talking Beautiful Stuff has written about how an object’s beauty may be derived directly from its function. “That’s a really beautiful car!” “What a fabulous knife!” In other words, one thing we take into account when considering the aesthetic appeal of a particular output of the human creative spirit is what the object in question does. Yesterday, I came across this stunning construction on display in a theme park. I just stopped and stared in fascination. I had no idea what it was but I found it intriguing, intimidating and, yes, beautiful. Could it be – and I can hardly bring myself to say the word – “art”?

So, what do you think? Is it:

a prop from a 1960’s sci-fi film?
the winner of the Steampunk Festival 2014?
a work by a major contemporary metallic sculptor entitled “Devoid of humanity (with head) VII”?
a particle accelerator from the European Centre for Nuclear Research (CERN)?

While you consider these options, take a look at the gorgeous, burnished and exquisitely crafted copper exterior. It hasn’t dulled with exposure to the wind and rain.

The answer: this is one of the original particle accelerators built at CERN in 1983. It and 127 others like it (limited edition!) were placed around the famous 27km circular tunnel under the French-Swiss border. The acceleration around the tunnel of both electrons and positrons up to the speed of light was achieved by making them “surf” on electromagnetic waves of 352 MHz. A physicist friend tells me with great enthusiasm that the cylindrical lower part of each accelerator generated the waves whilst the spherical upper part served as a heat-reducing microwave energy store. I nod politely.

Photocopyright: CERN 1983

Here it is! With all the bells and whistles all wired up and ready for work!

Isn’t this fabulous? The designers cannot have given thought to the aesthetic appeal of a particle accelerator. This must be design for function only. This is the technical stuff of pure science. This is one hound in the hunt for Higg’s Boson. This is the sort of thing commemorated by the work of Gayle Hermick. But an aesthetic appeal it definitely does have even though I – like most others – have little comprehension of its function and will never see it actually working. However, it stopped me in my tracks and when I told my physicist friend that I wanted to photograph one of the objects in CERN’s Léon Van Hove Square, he immediately knew which one it would be.

Another object on display in the Square and only 30 metres from the accelerator is an electrical staircase that multiplies the voltage of a transformer. Invented in 1932 in Cambridge (UK), this was used to generate the required 500,000 volts for particle acceleration. It’s looks really whacky and has the sci-fi look but, somehow, it just isn’t …. well…. beautiful.

Does my lifetime exposure to wondrous contemporary sculptures, old sci-fi films, steampunk and the world of Heath Robinson ultimately influence whether I perceive an object such as the particle accelerator as beautiful? Am I influenced because the object is part of the glamour of this cutting edge of science? Why is it easily imaginable that this really is a work by a major contemporary sculptor? If it was put up for sale and CERN asked the price of $1million, does this make it “art”?

Talking Beautiful Stuff

All around us, people create beautiful stuff. Let's talk about it!

Yearly Archives: 2015

Another Place… near Liverpool

The remarkable “dramagraphy” of Michel Lagarde

Is this beautiful?