16 August 2015
Slightly better quality
27 May 2012
This is the second update of Tate Shadows taking advantage of improving qualities of Vimeo.
Here is my contemporary note explaining how it came about.
23 June 2008
We made our way to visit the Cy Twombly art show and as we drove we listened to Jah Wobble’s CD, Heaven and Earth .
I reminded Mrs Monk that Jah Wobble, was given his name by the Sex Pistol, Sid Vicious who mispronounced his real name, John Wardle.
Mrs Monk showed no interest in my anecdote, but as soon as we arrived at Tate Modern, I found her discussing the art of “Sid Wobbly”, at first disparagingly and then with respect since she was in due course impressed by the show.
As always we were inspired creatively and could not wait to get home to start drawing and painting, but since we were there at the time of day that enabled the sun to find its way into the grand Turbine Hall, I found myself snapping away at the shadows created by a late afternoon sunburst. I was not alone. Cameras were snapping everywhere and tourists were overcome with shadow-making and one man adopted Christ like poses with remarkable conviction.
I have had some nice comments from spiritually minded people, who commented on my movie, which is ironic, given my agnostic views.
The Monks did make a pilgrimage to Ronchamp to see the remarkable chapel said to resemble a nuns hat. It was some trek and Mrs Monk complained throughout the journey, but then burst into tears when we arrived.
This would be my favourite building on the planet designed by the architect Le Corbusier, an atheist who wrote....
“I am not a churchgoer myself, but one thing I do know is that every man has the religious consciousness of belonging to a greater mankind, to a greater or lesser degree, but in the end he is part of it. Into my work I bring so much effusion and intense inner life that it becomes something almost religious.”
Last weekend Mrs Monk and I visited the Tate Modern.
This exhibit is by Cildo Meireles' and these barely functioning radios were all acquired from New York thrift shops.
It says something about the cacophony of competing media in 2001. Now fifteen years later this pejorative commentary is almost a quaint aside to what has since become the future. Now, the Black Mirror is the dark story of what might happen in the next fifteen years.
+Mrs Monk with film-making savvy beckoned me to push her around this profound but obsolete monument. I knew with surprising intuitive synchronicity that she required me to push her wheelchair around the art so she could make this film without the aid of a professional steady cam device.
Who am I kidding? That much is obvious.
Cildo Meireles' Babel, 2001, at the Tate Modern.
Hundreds of radios, each tuned to a different station.