Monday, 1 October, 2018 – 12C
Four weeks today since we arrived. Ouch! We’ve done a lot yet not a lot. We’ve resolved to never come to a hot country before October. But it’s spurred me to start filling in ideas on my October calendar. This week – free admission days to museums, dinner with Liat’s family, and my cooking day – on Friday.
One of the mosquito bites, on the back of my wrist, is very itchy and swollen. I’ve put a bandaid on it so I’ll stop scratching. I am now scratching the bandaid…
And it rained. And rained. And rained some more. The wind got serious. The air was chilly. The temperature dropped more than ten degrees Celsius. We hunkered down but hoped it would clear enough since Krish wanted to go to a photography exhibit of Pop Art. And 1st October was a free admission day.
We put together a lunch out of what we had. No way to venture down to the market. We didn’t want to start our day already soggy.
The gallery is near Piazza Carlina. From there you can see the Mole looming. I heard that the NH Hotel Carlina has some lovely original features and also a wonderful staircase. I just feel uncertain though. When I get inside, there are three people in the unconventional reception area. I lose my nerve and can’t take photos of the interior.
Again, I’m not much for museums and art galleries so have a system that gets me through quickly but allows me time to look at something that may catch my eye. I can admire a painting or an artifact if it speaks to me and this exhibit, on pop art, may have more to say than most. I cherry-pick what I look at.
Italy likes to honour its own. The food. The artists. The clothing and other goods, often made here, not in China or Pakistan. For this exhibit they are featuring Mario Schifano, an Italian postmodernist, along with Andy Warhol and other cronies.
So here’s what caught my eye.
In the first room, in a diptych, this photo is like a magnet. It doesn’t look like the iconic, older Andy but it’s him…the juxtaposition of the word tomato, his sunglass lenses and the addition of the Campbell’s logo. It comes together.
From across the room, it yelled ‘London.’ Something about the body language, the glimpse of a cap, minimal but totally there.
This stencil is bold and elegant. A good introduction to Schifano for me.
I walked past this, until I saw the reflection from a little way off. It was a mirror with a mannequin dressed in green and looking into the mirror. However, when I saw the gallery room reflected with another woman in there, that’s when it struck me. Two women, seemingly occupying the same space – one real, one not, together yet not…
Collages often make me fidget. I’m not sure what place they have in a gallery. But this one was so clever, so meticulous, I’m quite certain it isn’t an accidental collision of cuttings and glue. It inspired me. Watch this space.
Silence speaks volumes here.
Another collage. Strong colours, bold lines. I like it!
The centrepiece. The original. My favourite is the second to last Marilyn. Yours?
More Schifano. There are many portraits in many galleries in many countries. People pose and give very little away. They are ornamental, they smile, their minds seem blank. Perhaps they’re thinking about how this portrait will turn out. However, the final (or first, depending how you view it) portraits here are of a woman who has something to say. What is it?
And what stories would this one tell? Did Andy use it and leave it – ‘done.’ Was it bought at auction? Was it hanging around somewhere gathering dust until someone found it? There were two scrawled names at the front. Who did he photograph? I saw Dina Merrill and Joan Collins in a bunch of shots, which I now wish I’d looked more carefully at. As the linked article says, ‘Because he was not just any photographer but a famous artist, a star, there is often a sense that the looking is being done at the man with the camera as well as by him. As spontaneous as these images may seem, they are intrinsically staged, with Warhol himself as both chronicler and catalyst of the moments he is documenting.’ And that’s how I saw it. Who was looking at whom?
I should learn that I always get more from a museum or gallery than expected but I doubt I’ll ever be able to spend hours in any of them.
Instead we headed back, through the streets by the Mole, along Regina Margherita to buy a piadona for Krish and some pastry for the upcoming Thanksgiving feast. Then home and some impromptu dim sum.
