In Real Life

Hey. How you doing? I’ve been having a few blue days recently, but feel much better now. I felt that I’d lost my footing a bit, and have had a little existential wobble; I think I’m having a delayed reaction to all the crazy shit we as a world have gone through in the past few months. But I’m working on it, and as always, it’s how one reacts to things that matters - you can make it either easier or harder for yourself. I’m missing the things that feed my soul; the cold swimming (which of course is over anyway as it’s SUMMER), taking pictures and looking at art. I also miss having something more concrete to look forward to, and the whole “everything is up in the air” reality is taking it’s toll. So, let’s time travel, and look at some art, yes?

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Almost a year ago now, we went to see the Olafur Eliasson’s In Real Life exhibition at Tate Modern. It was one that I knew I could bring Mr Famapa and Oomoo to, knowing that they would enjoy it as well. My friend Z came over from Amsterdam too, and we all enjoyed it immensely. Now you’ll have to forgive me as I don’t remember everything about the exhibition, so I’ll try and explain what’s what the best that I can. This black room had a stream of mist falling to the floor, and with the spotlights shining through it there was a faint rainbow effect. So beautiful.

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Aaaahhhhh, this was so cool. There were a couple of these Turner Colour Experiments in the exhibition, where Eliasson had taken out the colours used from certain paintings by J M W Turner, and made digital colour wheels of them. You can read more about them here.

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This room had a mirrored ceiling, and half of a black plastic tube circle, which of course became a whole circle with the reflection in the ceiling. Post-lockdown this picture highlights something we took for granted just four months ago - walking around indoors with strangers, and not fearing them and an invisible illness.

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Anyway, enough of that crap. It’s getting boring now. SO. This big glass sphere was in the second room as you walked into the exhibition (where they showed Eliasson’s earliest works). It was stuck to the wall, and you could just about make something out by looking into it.

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Turns out the sphere was placed in a hole through a wall between two rooms, and that while you were standing on one side trying to figure out what it was all about, everyone on the other side of the wall got to see you looking funny and distorted, and slightly confused.

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Genius.

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This room was where all cameras and camera phones got whipped out as not only are shadows in general cool, but multiple multicoloured ones even more so.

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One huge wall (Moss Wall) in one room was covered in living reindeer lichen which filled the room with a really strong smell. It reminded me of dark December days in Sweden when I was growing up, as we’d count down the advent Sundays leading up to Christmas Eve with an advent candle holder, with the then obligatory white moss and mini mushrooms decorations around the candles.

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This kaleidoscopic mirror thingie (I’m pretty sure that’s it’s official name) was lined up in a window with two other shapes. There was a little queue of people taking pictures through it, of course.

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Back in the mist room. I came back a second time a few weeks later, and they’d sectioned the “mistfall” off so you couldn’t walk through it anymore, so I’m glad we got to experience it as intended. Or maybe we weren’t even be able to walk through it in the first place?!

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Hey Z! You’re taking a picture of me taking a picture of you! Because that’s what we do. This was in a mist room, or more like a fog tunnel, where the fog was so dense that you’d lose each other if you didn’t stick together.

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The fog changed colour as you walked through it.

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Eliasson made some paintings using glacial ice blocks melting on top of washes of pigment colour, and this is one of the results. A lot of his art highlights the melting of the ice caps, in various ways. It’s kind of weird how we’re all on hyper alert against a virus, when the climate crisis heading our way in just a couple of decades is the real effing deal. You can’t self-isolate or vaccinate your way out of that one. Arghh, there I go again… Sorry!

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Now where was I? Oh yes… there was a huge glass box full of Eliasson’s models in the first room of the exhibition. It’s so interesting to see the process through which artists work and feel their way to their finished art works.

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In the lifts, and the stairs and corridor of the floor that the exhibition was on, there were lights that referenced back to Eliasson’s huge Turbine Hall installation The Weather Project back in 2003, which still is one of my favourite art experiences ever. The orange light cancels out all other colours, and I remember that I wore a bright red winter coat back then, but that you couldn’t see the red at all. I’m so glad these lights were here so Oomoo could experience being colour blind for a little while too.

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And finally, my pal and other other half (the original other half being Mr Famapa of course) Z taking pictures inside a kaleidoscope of sorts that you could walk through. I don’t know how long it will be until there is an exhibition of this scale and type again, but I really look forward to when there will be one to go to. See, something to look forward to after all! One day, y’all, one day.

Maybe soon

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Another pic from Paris last summer, of people doing a very normal everyday thing (and little me taking their picture). A question that came up at the beginning of lockdown was what the first thing you would do once it was over would be. Mine was to go for a swim at the Ladies Pond, but it isn’t anymore. It now looks like it will open on the 4th of July, and it will be rammed, and warm, which is the exact opposite of what I loved about it this winter. I can’t think of anything in particular that I want to do now, but just seeing people sitting at a café outside like this again will be good enough for me.

Odds and sods

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Little C trying to hide from Mr Famapa. Kinda worked?

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Oomoo used to love the Mr Men books that these guys are from when he was younger. I loved reading them to him, always hearing Arthur Lowe’s voice in my head as I read.

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Uhm…

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The guys under a very handsome, but slightly squashed tree.

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Walking tens of thousands of steps is really hard on your feet, and here the three of us are getting the circulation going, back in our hotel room. Oomoo has inherited the pincer-like feet that runs in my mum’s side of the family. Great for yoga, and picking things up off the floor.

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“No pictures!”. Not my fault everything looked to photogenic at our hotel breakfast, son.

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Matchy matchy. Definitely went for a Dutch theme, even in Paris. That mango sorbet was deliiiiiiiish.