Last year the Director of my work team instituted something called the I Feel Fantastic day - an extra day of leave that each member in the team can apply to take once a year. The only proviso is that you have to spend the day doing something fun.
I applied for my day a few weeks ago, saying I wanted to attend the new exhibition at the Royal Academy of Arts. It celebrates the art of the early Soviet era - of which I am a huge fan. See the promo video here.
My submission described a young pinko-commie-leftie Sydney girl who in the late 70s and early 80s could be found lurking in various grotty locations, clutching her copy of Green Left Weekly and scrounging together the meagre entrance fee for the latest vegetarian Socialist Party fundraiser, where we'd all sit around discussing the 'means of production' and debating the merits of marxist / leninist / trotskyist theory.
The boss was tickled pink by my submission ('our most cerebral yet') and I was granted the day off.
 |
| The Royal Academy of Arts |
I don't have many photos from the actual exhibition because of course you're not supposed to take photos inside, however I did sneak one that my conscience told me was OK because it was only a reproduction of the Letatlin - a glider that artist creator Vladimir Tatlin believed would become a household item, as common as bicycles, with children being taught to fly at a young age. You can read more about this fascinating concept here.
The image of three schoolboys beneath this piece was a bonus; I think Letatlin would be chuffed to know that 85 years later kids were being entertained by his vision.
 |
| Recreated Letatlin by Vladimir Tatlin (aah, this photo I took makes me think of the song Three Imaginary Boys by The Cure) |
Paintings by Brodsky, Malevich, Kandinsky and Chagall were highlights for me, as were the excerpts of early Soviet film by Eisenstein, the examples of fine china repainted with propagandist design, and a full-scale model of a utopian apartment design that was meant to provide functional, modern housing for the entire proletariat but which of course never came to fruition.
But most affecting of all was the great sadness of the Room of Memory - a tiny cinema continuously screening mugshots of hundreds of Stalin's exiled, starved and executed victims from the purges of the 1930s.
Despite noble origins - the liberation of millions of poverty stricken, illiterate Russians from the shackles of a monarchist regime of obscene wealth and privilege - we know communism descended into horror in the space of 25 years. This is a subject that's always fascinated me, the fact that the worst side of human nature seems to nearly always overtake a genuine desire for equality. I still believe there is a better way than the hell of capitalism in which we now live.
- Go to school
- Work your whole life paying your mortgage and saving for your retirement (Ha! There's a concept with a limited shelf-life)
- Die.
That's really what our modern life amounts to.
Anyway, on a brighter note... as I was browsing in the gift store a very distinctive and familiar voice next to me made my head snap up - and blow me down, there was your actual Alan Davies heading into the exhibition, but not before lining up with everyone else to get his audio guide.
 |
| Alan Davies lining up like all the ordinary people, to get his audio guide |
The Royal Academy is smack-bang in the heart of Mayfair, an area of unbelievable wealth.
This is such an opulent part of London - all the designers are represented and of course the UK flagship stores of world famous retailers like Tiffany & Co are here too.
I enjoyed window shopping and exploring the beautiful arcades, and imaging what life must be like to be able to shop there. It's so far outside my frame of reference that I can't fathom it. Were I to darken any of their doorsteps, the staff of these stores would take about 3.5 seconds to review my attire and general lack of expensive accoutrements, and immediately dismiss me as an imposter / tourist / browser.
 |
| Fortnum & Mason - lovely, but vastly overpriced |
 |
| Sconce on Fortnum's exterior |
 |
| One of the window displays at Fortnum's |
 |
| The whisky / cognac display at Fortnum's |
 |
| Piccadilly Arcade - it runs between Piccadilly and Jermyn Street |
 |
| New & Lingwood - for all your smoking jacket needs |
 |
| A book-lover's heaven at Hatchard's, the oldest bookstore in the UK (it was founded in 1797) |
 |
| The gorgeous Royal Arcade, which runs between Old Bond Street & Albemarle Street |
 |
| Amazing window display in Moncler, Old Bond Street |
I indulged myself in a pot of waaaaaaay overpriced tea in Fortnum and Mason. It was served up in a tiny pot with a chipped and cracked spout - and for this privilege I was being charged £5.95 (yes, you read that correctly).
Am I the sort of person to take this lying down? Those of you who know me already have the answer to that. Suffice to say I left Fortnum's without having to pay for my tea. I will not be returning.
 |
| Cardinal House, Albemarle Street *Swoon!* |
What a day of contrasts - the socialist ideals and privations of communist Russia, followed by a stroll around one of the bastions of capitalism.
It was a good day. I felt fantastic.
Until next time,
- Maree xo
No comments:
Post a Comment