First of all, we are not allowed to take photos inside this museum of modern art. But I managed to steal two photos of some of the few things there that I liked.
Yes, I say few things, because, let’s face it, a frame of a single slash-cut through a blank canvas? A frame of a few pieces of torn painted paper dropped and glued onto a white background because the artist wanted to “incorporate elements of chance” into his work? An entire canvas painted in fiery red?
Nasty and I cocked our heads and wondered what it would take for us to slash our canvases with a switch-blade and make it into a museum like this. I am 100% sure that if I paint a canvas totally red and declare it an expression of my monthly PMS, no one would give a shit. But if an established artist do it, everyone goes ooh and aah.
So, tell me. How do you get to that point?
I’m not sure why no photos were taken of the building from the outside. The Tate is actually a converted old power station and, to be honest, I find the structure totally unremarkable.
Maybe that’s why.
Ok, so I haven’t given a very good impression of the museum at all huh? But hey, I still think it’s worth a visit, just to see what all the fuss is about. Mind you, there are a few good pieces in there, like a Picasso or two.
Also do trek up to the bar/restaurant on the top floor: drinks aren’t expensive at all for a place like this, and great views over the Thames. Here we are looking at St. Paul’s Cathedral, with the Millenium Bridge spanning the river below us.
This is a piece I call: Jeans at the Tate.