Sarah Sze

Sometimes a walk around London is right out of a scene in Shaun of the Dead (which we haven't seen yet, but is on our list, especially since we found out it's set in Crouch End, a nice neighbourhood a bit north of us): have zombies taken over the city, leaving mayhem and destruction in their path, or are these just the usual London standards of ramshackle urban existence? Sometimes it's incredibly difficult to tell. I'm 99% sure today was an example of zombie-free London, although this phone box and this building
do leave a 1% possibility of other, zombie-related causes. We actually pass by this fenced-off building quite regularly, as it's on one of our frequent bus routes; the extent of the damage is only visible from the top level of a double-decker bus, and if I forget where this building is along the route, it can be a very surprising sight amongst the other, um, less burned-out buildings on the street! (I was going to post the photo and say that Bob and I bought a fixer-upper London flat for the amazing bargain of £100,000, but figured that no one would believe that, except maybe for Londoners, who might think it would be worth it, depending on the location and size of the garden. Sad, but true!) As we continued along our way today, I noticed this unusual warehouse door:
Two keyed locks, a peephole, a spinning wheel, a combination lock, and engraving that proclaims, "Milners' patent improved fire-resisting & strong holdfast safe," this door combined real security with what I assume (?) is ornamental security to leave one question in my mind: just what is behind this door? Not far away, we got to see the fascinating sights behind another door, at Victoria Miro gallery, where the last day of the Sarah Sze exhibit had attracted substantial crowds. Sze received a 2003 MacArthur "genius" fellowship, so nicknamed because the US$500,000 grant is given to roughly thirty American citizens or residents each year, for their "originality, insight, and potential." Recipients come from all disciplines, and unlike most fellowships, the money is given without restriction. The nomination and shortlisting processes are anonymous, and final decisions are made by the foundation committee; incredibly, recipients usually aren't aware they're being considered until they get that $500,000 phone call. I didn't know this when I put Sze's show on my list of things to see, but after scrutinising the many layers of her intricate sculptures while crouching on the gallery floor (as were most people--stretch your muscles before you see a Sze show), I have to say that she's definitely on my list of artists to check out anytime I hear of an exhibit. Highly, highly recommended. Much of my favourite art uses everyday objects to create spectacular pieces, and Sze definitely does this, assembling often minuscule pieces into gargantuan sculptures that come alive with light, movement, and an imaginative world of their own. The ground floor of the gallery contained a few new pieces, dramatically spotlit in the dark room,

while the first floor's older pieces were brightly lit
and arranged in such a way that the largest (in diameter) piece was the first one you saw when you entered the space:


I'll never look at yarn the same way again.
I almost didn't know where to go next, and ended up looking at each piece several times, seeing something different each time around.

This piece was hidden around a corner, and as I followed the yarn to the window, I felt like I was following a trail of crumbs in the forest . . .
You really had to watch where you stepped in the gallery, since tiny fragments of various sculptures wandered out from the main sculpture:

I half-expected all the tiny pieces to start marching around the room, since they seemed to indicate movement even where there wasn't any,

and these rays of yarn seemed like they should emit music when strummed.
After finally leaving the Sze exhibit, we had a peek at the gallery next door, where we were again thrown into a consideration of the tiny, this time the wonder of snowflakes! Heading a little further from home, we went to Canary Wharf to check out their free jazz festival. We have yet to warm to Canary Wharf, which feels more like a sterile jumble of office buildings
than a neighbourhood for strolling and exploring, but Jubilee Park (the site of the jazz fest) is a lovely oasis of parkland amongst the glass towers.
The trees didn't feel like London trees, and we felt more like we were in downtown Seattle than London!
Although the set we caught wasn't exactly our style, it still made for a nice bit of picnicking on another blissfully summery day in the city (yes, they're still hanging on).