Tim Burton & Matthew Gray Gubler & Stuff

The two people above seem an unlikely couple to coexist in any textual space; however they do have something in common besides my apparent interest in them. 

I went to Tate Modern again yesterday because it was Friday and on Fridays some museums in London choose to treat their patrons by staying open late, till 10pm in Tate Modern's case (and the sandwiches in the museum cafe in late hours, like an out-of-fashion artist, decide to trade for a reduced price too.) I love museums, a passion not shared by everyone I meet - quite a pity for I think everyone should love museums, regardless of his or her level of interest in Picasso and whatnot, for three reasons. 

First, they are free, mostly, in London, unless you really die to view a current exhibition which always charges a handsome fee or your guilty conscience would never allow you to bypass the donation box placed at the museum entrance without reaching for your wallet. 

Second, most museums promise a great escape with their aesthetically pleasing and architecturally interesting, large and open spaces to urban dwellers, the majority of whom spilt their lives between dreadful office cubicles and cookie-cutter characterless apartments. Think of the lofty, light-infused great hall of the British Museum, the historic, imposing central hall of the Natural History Museum, the awe-evoking, raw, industrial Turbine Hall of Tate Modern. Think of the many varied spaces, large and small, throughout the museums, usually no short of benches, armchairs and couches eagerly inviting one to stop, sit, linger, loiter, rest, watch, appreciate, anything but to hurry and be hurried, like in shops/cafes by over-zealous and oftentimes intrusive staff. 

Last but not the least, museum shops! Commercialized art, or art merchandise, things having a lot  or little to do with art, or things priced exorbitantly in the name of art, whatever you describe it. Despicable they might be, I find them very therapeutic and soothing, which has little to do with whether you can or want to afford to buy anything. The selection, the display, the color, the space! Everything seems mesmerizingly reachable, and at the same time also seems a bit too refined to regard them in the context of one's own home.

Okay, I have digressed enough and shall return to my visit to Tate Modern, more specifically, to its store. Among a sea of glossy, beautifully-covered books, I saw this book by Tim Burton, The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy & Other Stories, lying there with a modest dark blue cover. I have known the book for a few years - first published in 1997, the book is 12 years old already-, and have been tempted to pick up a pricy hardcover copy in a NYC bookstore a couple of times but was never resolved enough to do it, especially after I found a full electronic copy online. I got to know the book when I didn't even know who Tim Burton was despite his fame and statue in Hollywood. I was attracted by his style of drawings and storytelling, a style very adeptly described by New York Times as:

"The Melancholy Death of Osyter Boy exquisitely conveys the pain of an adolescent outsider. Like Tim Burton's movies, the work manages to be both childlike and sophisticated, blending the innocent with the Macabre."

Seeing the book quietly snuggled among some colorful children's picture books - I highly question the appropriateness of categorizing it as children's book by Tate Modern - I was suddenly overcome by a feeling one often experiences in childhood for a long-coveted toy or chocolate bar. I brought the book to the cashier without much hesitation though it was not cheaper than the hardcover copy I came across years ago.

Here is a poem with the accompanying cartoon from the book:

The Pin Cushion Queen

Life isn't easy 

for the Pin Cushion Queen,

When she sits alone on her throne,

Pins push through her spleen.

 

This kind of morbid twist on childlike stories is easily reminiscent of the works of Edward Gorey (Gorey's entry in Wikipedia confirms the influence of Gorey on Burton's directional style), who decades before Burton's little book painted a more gruesome picture of the deaths of the "gashlycrumb tinnies". Here is one of the deaths:

Gorey is one of my favorite illustrators; but I only own two books of his: his books are hard to find,  being one excuse. I adore his dexterous and meticulous use of lines, his ability to build up an otherworldly atmosphere in which his odd characters live, his masterly use of meager words alongside his drawings. 

So why Matthew Gray Gubler? And, more important, who is he? He is nobody or a rather obscure actor/former fashion model to most people. He is Agent Spencer Reid/genius to anyone who is a fan like I am of the US TV crime drama series "Criminal Minds". He is also a quite talented sketch artist, only known to the few who happen to have visited his personal website which displays many of his works or doodles - he is the designer of the website too. The ghastly nature of his sketches supplies an interesting yet surprisingly complimentary facet to the nerdy Dr. Reid character - somehow I find it hard to separate his TV persona from his real life one; I would like to think he's playing himself though I perfectly know the real Gubler, smart he may be, is not a genius. 

So finally here is the connection between Tim Burton and Matthew Gray Gubler, that they are both in the show-biz and they both have a less-known artistic talent in drawing, sketching, illustrating, whatever you call it and an aesthetic taste in and inclination for things that are not so cute-and-cheerful. There is something else I envy in them both:  that their fame - not so much yet for MGG- as a result of their career in film or TV helps to bring to light their other artistic endeavors, which otherwise more likely than not will sink to obscurity, for neither of the two, as much as I admire them, stand great chance of prospering based solely on their drawing/sketching skills. But lucky for them, and for me too, they are keeping their day jobs. For MGG, I would buy his book if he ever decides to publish one.

观毕加索展览

今天和一个朋友约了去国家展览馆看毕加索展览（Picasso: Challenging the Past），我们俩都是暂时辞了工不上班的人，于是约了礼拜一的下午，本想应该是比较清静的一个时段，可以自在悠闲的拜访毕加索。可是一进门，就发现我们的算盘打错了，一个工作日的下午，展览馆却是人声鼎沸；仔细一看，很多一群一群穿着各式 制服的各个年龄段的学生们：有手牵手两个一组的6、7岁的小男孩，有化了妆头发翘的老高但脸庞稚嫩的少男少女，还有提着写生本和画册的艺术学校的学生们。国家展览馆一般展品都是免费向公众开放的，所以自然成为了孩子们探索艺术感知美的第一课堂。我们那一代中国的孩子，甚至直至当今的中国的孩子，都是没有这样奢侈的。

我小时候唯一对西方艺术和绘画的认知，是在家里发现的一本母亲藏在柜子深处的鲁本斯(Rubens)油画册和家中卧室门上和墙上贴的几副西方以乡村风景为主题的油画印刷品。鲁本斯的画册我偷偷的翻阅，不敢让父母知道，画中西方女子丰腴的裸体对当时的我的视觉冲击力可以想像；那几副风景油画在旧家挂了不知道多少年，只知道纸张都泛黄了，但想必是母亲所爱，一直没有被取下来。其中两副我记得尤为清晰，一为宁静优美的乡村风景，午后、农舍、巨大的树冠、清冽的河水和悠闲汲水的马车 － － 后来我知道是英国著名的浪漫主义画家John Constable所绘的家乡风景，后人为纪念他将他家附近的一带称为" Constable Country";另一副描绘的是一条乡间小路，道路两边是高而纤细的树木，远方隐约有村庄教堂，道路渐行渐远，直至消失在地平线。我一直不知道此画的作者和出处，直至大约一个月前的第二次去国家展览馆，在展厅内我看到了这副画的真身，是荷兰画家Meindert Hobbema的作品。原画其实很大，是我家的印刷品的十几倍，站在画前，突然无数的童年少年回忆象潮水一样在头脑中涌动：那些个昏昏欲睡的午后，我在卧室的书桌前为一篇作文或一道数学题而苦思冥想，目光所至，是这副门上的画，美丽恬静可望不可及仿佛属于另一个世界的田园风光，为我那时缺乏艺术和美的枯燥灰色的生活环境照进一线动人的光芒。那天回家前，我在国家展览馆的商店里买了这副画的明信片，现在它就站在我床头的小柜上，每日入睡前，看到它，我会对自己说：多么幸运，这生活，可以如此贴近艺术。


The Hay Wein

Constable, John

Oil on canvas

130.2 cm x 185.4 cm

The Avenue at Middelharnis

Hobbema, Meindert

Oil on canvas

103.5 cm x 141 cm

说回毕加索展览，展览一共收集了毕加索的60余副作品，纵贯他整个漫长的艺术生涯。在众多代表他最为世人而知的“立体主义”风格和浓烈的西班牙用色的作品中，我发现了这样一副宁静细腻、脆弱的画作，画中的女子，苍白纤细，精致的侧脸和衣着，蓝色的背景和人物头发、耳朵和身体上的蓝色。这是他“蓝色时期”（Blue Period）的作品，后来他的风格逐渐成型并日渐成熟后，这样的色调和风格就基本消失不见了。

Girl in Chemise

Picasso, Pablo

Oil on canvas

最近画的，好像有进步

Tower Bridge at Sunset

18" x 18"

Oil on Canvas

Dexter

Pencil on Paper

Tom

18" x 22"

Acrylics on Canvas Board

Mask 面具

大英博物馆所见

Ron Mueck

Mask II

2001/2002, Mixed Medium

Today's Painting

Milton 

Acrylic on canvas

30.5 x 40.6 cm

学堂故事

“小么小儿郎，

背着那书包上学堂。”

小时候的儿歌，描画的是一副多么天真美好的图像：一群小伢儿，背着大大的布书包，穿过绿色的农田和小树林，去学堂读书；学堂里有白发苍苍的先生，不好好读书的话，他会责备：“小伢儿，怎么这么懒咯。。。”

我现在每周一次的又上学堂了，还背着大大的布书包，布书包装的不是书，是五花八门的绘画工具，肩上背一个不够，手里还要拎一个。早上要穿大街走小巷，走二十多分钟去上课的地方。昨天是第二周上课，进了画室发现这周的模特又是个男的，心里有点小失望，其实事先很希望是个女性的模特，有着丰润优美起伏的线条。这个模特很瘦小，看了很多文艺复兴时代大卫般健美而流畅的身材，回到现实终究是有些差距的。说回新模特，虽说瘦弱，但个性却是十足。首先，小小的不到55公斤的小身板儿上至少有6、7个文身，有骷髅这样耍酷路线的，有笑脸太阳这样可爱路线的，还有人名这样的深情路线的。上午的素描过程中，一个简单的站姿，这个模特却一直在动，一会儿抓抓肚子，一会儿又打个哈切，一会儿又低头弯腰，一会儿又作欲晕倒状，弄的人哭笑不得，好在老师和学员们都好脾气，没有说他。后来他承认，晚上没有睡好，导致疲劳过度。课间休息的时候，他四仰八叉的光着身子就往模特坐着的台子上一躺，自在的好像在自家的睡房里。休息够了就

开始在画室里乱转，当然他老人家还是没有穿衣服的习惯的，他一个画架一个画架的欣赏学员的未完成的作品，然后会用他带浓重口音的英文发一些无厘头的评价。边上两个20来岁的女孩吃吃的笑着，应该觉得又好笑又尴尬吧。想起上周的那个沉默的男模，和他真是天壤之别。上周的是个中年男人，头发很长，都花白了，看脸却没那么苍老，应该不到40岁；神情极其阴郁，我站在他的斜对面，偶尔他眼睛一抬被他的目光扫到，那股厉气会令我浑身冷的一颤。休息的时间，他都迅速的抓上一块大布，把自己包裹起来，然后闪进旁边的小储物间。不过阴郁归阴郁，他的职业道德还是很好的，在我们画画过程中，他基本上都能保持静止。

下午的时候，老师给男模安排了一个坐姿，并且顺口评价到他摆的这个姿势有点西斯庭教堂（Sistine Chapel）壁画的意味，模特听了，得意并妖娆得在椅子上扭动了几下，众人笑。下午他还是延续上午好动的风格，时不时的我抬起头，就发现他的脚不在刚才的位置了，或者头低下来了，肩膀在做伸展运动。这样的时候我会偷偷的看别的学生，发现大家也在无奈的等我们的模特恢复原来的姿势。太无语了！不过想想，这些模特大概都是兼职的吧，或者本身是艺术家，为生机而不得以而为之，我们自然也不应太苛求他们。而且生活中的素材大多是鲜活而不断变化的，一个多动症的模特，也算是贴近了生活吧。

午饭：香辣的泰式海鲜鸡肉绿咖喱 （Thai Seafood Green Curry)，盒儿饭！俺蹲在Borough Market外面小店门口吃的，很有丐帮首领的气魄。

迟到的访问－ 大英博物馆 The British Museum

一直说要去大英博物馆，却总因为这样那样的原因拖着，在伦敦住了数月了，居然都未成行。从南门入，还来不及感叹门口高耸入云的古希腊风格的门柱，就进入了一个宽阔的圆形空间，蓝色的玻璃屋顶，伦敦冬日下午的日光透过屋顶洒满了整个大厅。这是Queen Elizabeth II Great Court，2000年12月建成，据说是欧洲最大的室内广场。广场的中心的圆柱型建筑是Reading Room，是大英博物馆图书馆的阅览室。

大英博物馆的常规展览是免费的，但我们这次来参观的有关古巴比伦文化的特别展览需要门票，同时还在巡展的是一个关于17世纪伊朗的一个展览。图中的阶梯就是通往古巴比伦展（Babylon: Myth & Reality)的。我们的票是4点的，规模不大的一个展出我居然饶有兴致的消磨了1个半小时，直到关门时分，才意犹未尽的离开。我其实是个历史盲，这多归咎于中国“万恶”的考试制度，中学时候学习历史背史实的惨痛经历一直刻在我日渐模糊的记忆里，总之后遗症是之后凡是看到点和历史沾边的东西我就容易头疼。说我个人的经历其实是为了说明如今我能在一个历史和文化的殿堂里花几个小时细细品位是多么大的一个转变，赋予历史文化教育趣味性是多么重要的一件事。博物馆里有很多小孩，父母或老师带着，我多么羡慕他们，他们人生中有关历史的第一课远比我的来的早、来的精彩。

除了参观古巴比伦展外，我们还花了几个小时流连在博物馆的各个展厅里。当然，由于时间限制，着重看了古希腊和罗马展馆。

Nereid Monument of the Lykian culture - 复制品

古罗马希腊馆

这次博物馆之行还有一个重大收获就是这些书了，购于博物馆的大减价书籍。这是我最近正在找的关于素描的书，这几本是意大利文艺复兴时期几位大师的作品介绍，原作收藏于大英博物馆。当日我去欧洲14－15世纪展馆去寻找它们的踪迹，可惜失望而归。后来再次研究地图，才发现博物馆的5楼角落里有一个专门关于drawings的展馆，但时近闭馆，只能等到下次了。

某人蓦然回首间，颇有点文化人的意思，他穿衣一直崇尚English professor的老朽路线，从这张照片看，再老点，来竿雨伞和副眼睛，还是有希望的。我们俩人和一个朋友都爱极博物馆里的纪念品商店，很多书都在大减价，很容易就挑花了眼。大英博物馆的商店设置也很有意思，不象其他博物馆通常只有一个大商店，这里却是走几步一个，拐个弯又是一个，一楼林林总总我大约看到了五六个，毕竟是不收费的国家博物馆，需要随地随时的引诱人购物。不过商店价格绝对公道，甚至比外面更便宜，同样一本书，我在Soho的小书店看卖£8.99，大英博物馆内新的卖£15两本，有残缺的（其实和新的看不出什么分别）卖£4.99。累了在Great Court的玻璃穹顶下喝杯卡布其诺，也只是一镑多。

我们有不同的读书趣味，这一堆是他买的，大多数（除了那本Chinese Art)我都是可以当枕边书 － 催眠用。

今天的素描练习

sigh，原本一个青春美少年被我画成了风霜老大叔，而且还是那种中年失意的大叔。

总结原因有三：

1、鼻子画长了

2、嘴唇画的不够丰满

3、眼睛被画小了。

借口有一：坐着画容易比例失调。

越看越象刘德华＋吴奇隆，好失败。

来学习一下大师的人像画，Van Gogh的众多自画像之一。虽然是幅油画，但我觉得更象drawing, 只是工具是oil。那些鲜活大胆不安分的线条，仿佛彩色的虫子，随时会蠕动起来。画中人紧蹙的眉头、眼下的青色阴影、蓝色玻璃球般的眼睛和红色的执拗的乱须，这是1889年的Van Gogh，36岁，患抑郁症，已经住进了位于法国南部Saint-Remy的一家精神病院内。这个时期的他的画充满了标志性的大大小小的旋涡，最广为人知的就是“The Starry Night"了；一年后，他将一颗左轮手枪的子弹送入了自己的胸膛。

第一天上课

做了一早上上课迟到或是忘带工具的噩梦，可见好久没进过课堂的我有多么紧张。6点之后一直就没睡踏实，半梦半醒着熬到了8点多起床。慌慌张张的出了门，结果提前15分钟就到了画室，是班上的第一个。

10点整，学生都到齐了，大概15人左右，老老少少的，心中窃喜：俺在这儿还不算是高龄的。

第一天的授课内容是人体素描，着重于线条和结构，工具是木炭条和铅笔。一天下来，发现画画还真是一件体力活，我老胳膊老腿儿，站的腰酸背疼的。可是老师说站姿比较好，整个画室也只有一个孕妇是坐着的，我也就没好意思坐下。

早上画了三张素描，模特每30分钟变换一个姿势，下午是画一张大幅的素描。因为阴影和色彩是今后课程的内容，所以基本上就在画线条和空间。

A Trip to Islington

One of the new year's resolutions of ours is to explore a new London neighborhood every week. Conveniently we headed to Islington this weekend since I wanted to go to the Cass Art Store located in the area to purchase some basic supplies in preparation for my class starting this Thursday. Sunday started off extremely mild and warm, with blue sky and decent sunlight, quite a rarity for winter here especially considering the sub-zero temperatures in the past week.

Islington is an easy ride away on the Northern Line at the Angel Station, just south of the busy Kings Cross Train Station area. The crowd entering the Angel station as we were leaving appeared to be rather young (early to mid-20s), and hippie at some rate. From the station, we walked up north along the narrow Islington High 

Street parallel to (sort of) the busy main street - Upper Street, which turned out to be a delightful surprise. The street soon gives away to an even narrower one called the Camden Passage lined with antique & home decor stores, fashion boutiques, cafes and even a couple of stands selling used books and second-hand jewelry. 

There was a lazy, balmy breeze in the alley. People were floating in and out the stores; a local cafe was filled with people devouring large slices of cakes and late afternoon snacks, some indiscernible music playing loud in the background; a brave couple was sitting outside sipping their coffees. We soon strolled to the end of alley after curiously checking out a few stores.

 

Cass, hidden away from the main street at the interaction of  Colebrooke Row & St Peters,  is not far from where the alley ends. The store is housed in a strikingly beautiful brick building, a renovated 1930's warehouse. This store is in every bit comparable to the Blick store on Bond Street in Soho (New York City), aesthetically, in size and in terms of the scale of the sale! Red stickers permeated the entire three floors and my shopping basket filled up in no time. 

We ended the day with a quick bite from the local cafe (I forgot the name) on Camden Passage. Apparently their cakes, looming hugh less than half a foot in front of us - due to our inconvenient seating at the bar, were the best seller as they flew off the counter in gigantic slices. But we proudly didn't succumb to the temptation  - our other new year's resolution is still young and strong. 

Cass store interior 

Alan Aldridge @ the Design Museum

有着一双如万花筒般的眼睛

Illustration for Yellow Submarine (the Beatles)

Alan的异想世界

伦敦的日子

总觉得有点不象记忆中的伦敦，可能是因为这次，少了点过客的姿态，多了点要在这里扎扎实实的住上一阵子的准备。

毕竟间隔了十多年了，我是狠狠的变老了，虽然对伦敦来说，这点岁月，真的不算什么。

十一月，天气确是十足的冬天了，白天渐短，黑夜渐长，下午三点多出了门去，办了点事，也没耽搁多久，出来已经的一片暮色了。

走在Southwark Street去Thames河边，经过金融时报的总部，很向往的张望了一下。

才四点多，Tate Modern还没关门，游客还是很多，门前的细弱的一片白桦林在风中稀索的响着。