I just got back from holiday in Vienna and Budapest where the art and architecture was so impressive. The best part was that the Leopold Gallery in Vienna is currently showing selected Tracey Emin work, curated alongside Egon Schiele: a pair who seamlessly connect and compliment each other in the exhibition.
Furthermore, the Fine Art Museum in Vienna holds a host of Rubens, Rembrandts, Caravaggios, Tintorettos, Titians and one striking Vermeer- so many Old Masters that it felt like walking around inside a life-size history of art textbook. It was quite moving and unexpected to come up close to Rubens' Venus with a Fur Wrap (whose knees are featured on the left below), as I had read so much about it and stared at a postcard of it on my wall previously. The stillness of the paintings altogether in those tall, near-empty rooms exuded greatness and a sort of strange, comforting familiarity at the same time, and I wish I had had longer in the gallery to fully appreciate it.
I also visited Annely Juda's London Hockney exhibition with Cherry, a dear appreciator of his work and top art pal. Although we were pushed for time as the gallery was about to close, it was nevertheless lovely to see the paintings and 3-d photos that I had read about so much. Hockney never fails to inspire and intimidate me for his sheer volume of work, as a joyful artist who has experimented so widely in so many mediums. And still never fails to be dull or predictably repetitive. These established, exciting paintings were displayed in the same space as Hockney's charcoal drawings of the countryside, one year ago. It was comforting to see the work of last year that mourned for colour and vibrancy in a shadowy, traditional aesthetic replaced by the artist's re-found excitement, returning to his California palette.
Another super cool thing when I visited Budapest was the hotel we were staying in- faux-grandeur from a forgotten time mixed with grim modern-day tourist-appeal. It felt very much like we were staying at The Grand Budapest Hotel of Wes Anderson. The cracked but ornate bath spa in the basement bore striking similarity to Anderson's world of M. Gustav and Zero, not to mention the decor of the large dining room to contrast the fake pot plants and ruined, crumbling streets surrounding the building itself. I spent my time in the hotel being lazy.
NICE KNEES IN FINE ART
ANNELY JUDA HOCKNEY EXHIBITION WITH CHERRY
COMPARISON: WES ANDERSON'S GRAND BUDAPEST HOTEL //
HOTEL I STAYED AT IN BUDAPEST
/Thought it was funny/
" You see, there are still faint glimmers of civilization left in this barbaric slaughterhouse that was once known as humanity. Indeed that's what we provide in our own modest, humble, insignificant... oh, fuck it. " -Gustav H (GBH)
Goodbye and Good luck with exams and all xx