Dickinson College Humanities Program in Norwich

I grew up attending orchestral concerts. My mom is a musician/music professor/teacher, and my sister is the same. So are 2 of my grandparents. My mom and dad met because of music. As a result,  I’ve gone to more concerts, willingly and unwillingly, than I can count. I was quite excited to attend the BBC Proms series at the Royal Albert Hall. The performance featured the Czech Philharmonic playing a bit of Dvoråk and Janacek, and highlighted pianist Sir John Eliot Garder on the Grieg. Oh yes, and there were a couple encore pieces… what?

The Philharmonic and Gardner both played extra pieces, not listed on the program. After their wonderful display, and in response to raucous, and deserved applause, both Gardner and the orchestra played encores. The addition of pieces to a concerts’ repertoire is a foreign idea to American symphonies and formal concerts, where I’ve experienced a much stricter and reserved atmosphere. However the encore pieces were not the only differences between the Proms and American symphonic concerts.

Another major difference were the surprise coughing fits that infected the crowd in between movements of the symphonies/concertos. During these breaks at American concerts, the crowd is silent, waiting for the next movement to begin. while they contemplate the last bit, or potentially chuckle at another onlooker who is a concert rookie and actually clapped, a symphonic gaffe. However the Brits seem to either hold in all their coughs (and there are quite a few) or they are trying to subtly acknowledge that yes, that was quite good, please continue and keep up the good work! There is apparently a growing movement to actually clap between the movements, which can be read about further here and here. Perhaps the coughing was in fact an anti-clapping movement, as those with sudden bouts of whooping cough, bronchitis, or emphysema sought to defeat the class-less onlookers. Anyway, this whole thing puzzles me, but it is certainly not mirrored in American concerts.

Other disparities between the two cultures’ concerts include the “heave…ho” chant howled by onlookers as the stage crew moved the piano, the baseball-game-esque servers with iced buckets of beer parading the lower levels during intermission, the area for standing-crowd-only right in front of the stage, the incredibly animated movements of both the conductor, soloist, and orchestral members, and the heavy drinking of many concert-goers evidenced by the presence of flasks, beers, martinis, etc.

All of the aforementioned differences provided for a much more relaxed atmosphere, which  made the concert ultimately more enjoyable. This phenomenon explains the last, and in my opinion awesome, difference: the overall number of attendees, but specifically the amount of younger members of the audience, was much higher than I have seen at American concerts (of symphonies and other variants of classical music). In short, the place was packed, and there a fair amount of young concert-goers, not all of which were with their parents. This increase in younger generations attending the concert is also reflected in the museums, portrait galleries, and theatre shows we’ve attended.

I can think of several reasons for this. First, the museums/shows/concerts in London are either free, or are still much cheaper than their American counterparts. Young adults are infamously cash-strung, and the steeper prices of admission to American centers of cosmopolitanism, intellectualism, etc. (including college) may deter attendance. Secondly, London’s examples of these cultural experiences are much more enjoyable. Most museums feature fun, creative and interactive displays/games/things-that-help-you-learn. Though for the concert these features were more subtle, like the exaggerated movements and poses of Gardner (frequently resembling Michael Jackson in Thriller) or the incessant coughing (at least, I did/would have enjoyed this time-to-make-noise period), they certainly made the experience more entertaining. Lastly, the relaxed atmosphere makes it more acceptable for younger people to attend these concerts/museums/etc. The museums and specifically the concert, are clearly not only for stuffy upper-echelons of society and rich old folks, but for all interested citizens.

The concerts, and theaters, museums, etc. draw young people to them. I would like to see America follow suit.

My experience at the Notting Hill Carnival was truly unforgettable.  I had always heard great things about this event, but I would have never expected to feel so “at home” in London.  Anxious and totally in my element, I was ready to tackle the crowds of thousands of people and celebrate my culture. There was sunlight, upbeat music, aromas of spices and charred grills, and a different dance party on every other block- I was in heaven!  It didn’t take me too long to realize that this culture didn’t only pertain to me or the people that were recognizably Caribbean, but also the people who’s appearances were far from it.  While standing next to an middle aged white man, who had a Red Stripe in hand and belted out more reggae lyrics than I knew, I realized the culture of London was very different than that of New York. 

In Brooklyn, New York, there is also a festival held annually to celebrate the culture of the Caribbean that my family and I attend every year.  Taking place on Labor Day weekend informally titled “The West Indian Labor Day Parade’, it is a day filled with great music, food, and beautifully embellished costumes- just like the celebration at Notting Hill. (http://www.carnaval.com/cityguides/newyork/ny_carn.htm) Armed policemen are scattered on each block ensuring safety amongst the very homogenous crowd that this carnival attracts.  Located in one of the better communities in Brooklyn, populated by a moderate amount of white people, I can count on two hands the amount of white people that I have seen at the carnival in the last couple of years.  This is why I was pleasantly surprised at the dynamics of the multitude at Notting Hill.  I grant that the inclusion of alcohol could have played a major part in brining so many different people together but, I strongly believe that that couldn’t have possibly been the only commonality between millions of people.  I witnessed people actually enjoying themselves; whether it was drinking, standing on outrageously long ques for food, bopping and singing along to the music, and even dancing in the streets.  It puts a smile on my face to know that there are people other than Caribbeans that have a keen interest in our culture; something that I haven’t seen in New York, or in any of the US thus far.

Despite taking forty-five minutes to escape the crowds and find an operating train station, I had a delightful time.  Seeing people of all different races, cultures and ages come together and enjoy eachother’s company was like a breath of fresh air, and gave me some type of hope for humanity- even if there were one too many Rum Punches involved!

The works in the National Portrait Gallery are nothing more and nothing less than you’d expect from a collection of British heroes and icons.  A pale Lady Diana laughs with her sons.  Rows of Tudors sit in the same position, same facial expression, same symmetrical balance.  I can’t believe how much one of them looks like Jeremy Irons.  James Joyce looks as weaselly as I’ve ever seen him.  British history was written by the British- either the intellectual elite or the monarchy.  That’s who’s represented here.  Over the span of the entire museum I counted two non-white Brits.  Maybe I missed a few, but the fact still remains that Britain is visibly a nation overrun by cultural and class elitism.  It’s no surprise, nor is it unique to the Isle.  Still, including a few of the notable  Black, Indian, or East Asian historical figures in the portrait gallery housed in one of the most culturally diverse cities in the world doesn’t seem like too much to ask.  A city and a nation dedicated to fostering a people of many backgrounds should be dedicated to celebrating a heritage of many origins.

The portrait which most struck me is of a man who wouldn’t have agreed with this sentiment.  Jan Christiaan Smuts was a British-South African who was a major proponent of segregation between African Blacks and European colonizers.  Politics and morals aside, the military man Smuts (or his portrait, anyway) exemplifies what seems to be a perpetual process of one-upmanship in the British community.

Portraits are, if nothing else, a statement that you’ve made it; you have the experience, you’ve earned the recognition.  Might as well show yourself off by hiring someone to paint your likeness.  Smuts takes it further.  A not-so-inconspicuous inclusion of a chest full of army pins and badges in the upper/left half of the canvas serves as a reminder that Smuts is the real deal.  It’s the perfect visual representation of the superiority complex which Smuts clearly had.  I’m beginning to think of it as a “look at me” incentive; as mentioned before, all of the British officers depicted in portraits are white and they all wear similar uniforms.  Smuts puts his accomplishments on display to set himself apart from the pack.  It’s almost more a portrait of an ideal- a machismo, militarist ideal- than of a man.  Based on Britain’s imperialist tendencies, it seems like that mindset wasn’t unique to Smuts.

He just broadcast it best.

http://www.npg.org.uk/collections/search/largerimage.php?mkey=mw05872&search=ss&firstRun=true&sText=smuts&LinkID=mp04169&role=sit&rNo=0

When discussing the sphinx of Taharqo at the British Museum, the Kushite king of Egypt, the narrator of A History of the World states that “it makes sense to keep using a language of control that everybody is accustom to accept.” This is in reference to the fact that during their reign in Egypt, the Kushites adopted Egyptian customs to appease the people they were controlling. In response, the Egyptians likewise attempted to absorb the Kushites into their own culture, “blandly calling the reign of the Kushite kings the 25^th dynasty, thus quietly incorporating them into an unbroken story of an eternal Egypt.” It’s clear to me from this that naming something, the smallest thing – the ethnicity of an emperor, the description of a statue, the favorite food of a people – is away to secure power. Speakers in history will always maintain their superiority.

These strategic cultural “inclusions” smack of what Tarquin Hall points out of imperialism in Salaam: Brick Lane when Aktar states in frustration “you people are quite capable of making absolutely anything English if you choose to do so” (247). Imperial nations absorb parts of a culture they conquer to please the people, water it down, and spit it back out as only barely recognizable, a part of the empire. This is what I sense other people worried of Afro-Carribbean culture in their analyses of the Nottinghill Carnival, and possibly with good reason. What was once a celebration of culture could easily become a sort of spectacle for dominant groups. Maybe people come to the carnival to party rather than celebrate a culture. Maybe they come looking for something “authentic” and tokenize Afro-Caribbean culture rather than really respecting it.

I’ve been seeing this pattern all over England. There are curry shops everywhere. I’ve had more opportunity to buy it that than fish and chips. I keep seeing women on the Tube in head coverings, but otherwise wearing Western clothing, and I have to wonder if England and it’s vestiges of imperial culture are somehow swallowing other cultures as well. I see mixed race couples, and wonder what they call themselves since hybrid identities like Asian-American don’t really seem to exist in Britain the way they do back home.

I have always been taught that assimilation is a tool for silencing so marginalized groups can’t write their own history. In the United States, when someone tells you to speak English, straighten your hair, and embrace the American Dream, it really means your people are ugly and unimportant; pretend to belong and maybe we will tolerate you. But at the same time, the absorption of different cultures in England really could be a compromise. I haven’t heard any racial slurs yet. The fact that there is so much diversity and interracial mingling without conflict suggests that people don’t feel marginalized. Rather being coerced or having their customs forcibly erased, maybe new immigrant English consciously choose to adopt some dominant customs as a way to gain acceptance Maybe assimilation in this case is really the kind of cultural sharing that a society needs to operate peacefully. But my American instincts are still tell me to run before I start saying sorry every 5 seconds and can’t talk about money.

For a former empire, the British sure do like to only acknowledge the wealthy white people who inhabit this relatively small island.  The National Portrait Gallery was wall to wall dignified important white people.  For the most part I did not come across images of other ethnicity or socio-economic class.  Everywhere I turned I saw another sleepy-eyed English man or woman gazing down on me.  While this lack of diversity was a little distressing (where was Gandhi!?  He was a great subject of the British Empire!), once I got past this I loved every second of the National Portrait Gallery.

Image taken from Wikipedia

I encountered my favorite painting early on — a magnificent portrait of Elizabeth I (1535-1603) by Marcus Gheeraerts the Younger from 1592.  This image of Elizabeth standing atop the world was a beautiful example of Elizabethan portraits.  The Latin inscriptions (translated as “she gives and does not expect,” “she can but does not take vengeance,” and “in giving back she increases”) were fantastic examples of typical courtly sucking-up.  I enjoyed these phrases in particular because Elizabeth was not known for her patience, humility, or charity.  These stock sayings speak more to the traditions of the Early Modern Era than the character traits of this Tudor monarch.  The other aspect of this portrait that caught my attention was her dress.  This style of gown, a trademark of the later part of Elizabeth’s reign, is frequently referenced in modern culture, for example, the Fairy Queen in the last act of the Merry Wives of Windsor that we saw a few nights ago wore a replica of the gown in this portrait.  That this style, which appeared very late in her reign, has become a byword for Elizabethan fashion seized my attention.  I had not realized that by the time this portrait was painted, Elizabeth was old and no longer appeared like the young flawless beauty seen in this portrait:  instead of porcelain skin she was pock-marked, instead of brilliant red-hair she was going gray.  I found this distortion of truth, particularly highlighted by the exhibit itself (this portrait appeared at the end of a series illustrating Elizabeth through her lifetime), fascinating.  All in all I thoroughly enjoyed my trip to the past at the National Portrait Gallery.

Picture obtained from http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/historic_figures/churchill_winston.shtml

While walking through the Churchill Museum and War Rooms this afternoon, I was again amazed to think that Winston Churchill lost the 1945 election despite his legendary leadership during the Blitz and astronomically high approval ratings. At first glance it is hard to imagine anything similar happening in a national U.S. election. Could anyone imagine a president leading the United States triumphantly through a war, only to be defeated the next election to someone that served under them? After looking at the exhibits in the Churchill Museum, and doing a little bit of research, I have found three fairly compelling reasons as to why Churchill lost the 1945 election. Take a look at them, written from least compelling to most, and see if you think any of these reasons would lead to a similar upset in the United States.

1) Age

Many analysts claim Churchill’s old age could have discouraged many British citizens from voting Conservative in the 1945 election. This cannot be the definitive answer, as Churchill went on to become Prime Minister only a few years later despite being even older. However, evidence seems to suggest that a significant number of voters could have been swayed by Churchill’s age. Could age have such an influence on the American electorate? I am reminded of all of the talk about John McCain’s age in 2008. From my vantage point, age in either country can only have a negligible effect on the result.

2) Labour(Atlee) was better at domestic policy, and the war was over

According to this argument, the end of WWII marked a shift in priorities for the British electorate. Voters favored the person who had the better domestic policy, and found that person (at the time) to be Atlee. Could anyone see a US president being kicked out of office after having an overwhelmingly successful first term because the policy issues are different? I have a very difficult time seeing such cold rationalism, which does not seem to give any credence to all of Churchill’s successes during his time as Prime Minister, becoming a predominant factor in a US election.

3) People were not voting for/against Churchill, they were voting for their local MP

Since citizens only vote for MPs, many citizens could have been focused on local issues and priorities, and not been concerned about the national leader. This is where things really begin to fall into the hypothetical when comparing the US electorate to that of the UK. If this argument holds water(and I believe it is the most convincing reason why Churchill lost the election) I think it demonstrates the most glaring difference between US and UK voters. If given the option to vote for president or local representative, US citizens will vote in the national election nine times out of ten. This is seen in the disturbingly low turnout for non-presidential elections. UK citizens, seemingly, prioritize local elections to a much larger extent than their US counterparts.

For some more information on the 1945 election, you can out this link:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/worldwars/wwtwo/election_01.shtml

 So what do you think? Does Churchill’s defeat make sense? Could a similar electoral result happen in the US?

The National Portrait Gallery includes prominent figures in UK history, from great thinkers, philosophers and inventors, to sailors, pirates and conquerors. I only was able to view a small portion of the museum, beginning with the Tudors and ending at the Anti-Slavery Convention of 1840. This painting featured a group of 500 legislators gathered in an assembly hall. The scene depicted was Thomas Clarkson addressing the British and Foreign Anti-Slavery Society, with the hope of abolishing slavery worldwide. The only figure standing is  Clarkson, with his arm and forefinger held high and a countenance expressing concern, passion and a certain weariness, emotions symbolic of his lifelong struggle to see the end of slavery in the civilized world. To his left, his wife, Mary, and son, Thomas Jr. anxiously witness the culmination of Clarkson’s work.

In the foreground of the portrait sits Henry Beckford, an emancipated slave and delegate from Jamaica. What is of particular interest to me in this portrait, (besides it’s relevance to the movie ‘Amazing Grace,’ which I thought was pretty sick) is the dignity with which Beckford is treated. One delegate is putting his hand on Beckford’s arm and another, William Allen, gazes directly at him, although Clarkson is the one who is speaking. The respect that the other men in the portrait feel for is readily apparant from their expressions and body language. Beckford is surrounded by Europeans but seemingly treated as an equal, with all parties striving toward the same end.

Also, if one checks the link, there are some inexplicably big ass books at the bottom.
http://www.npg.org.uk/collections/search/largerimage.php?mkey=mw00028&search=ss&firstRun=true&sText=thomas+clarkson&LinkID=mp00903&role=sit&rNo=1

(Courtesy of NPG.org, the official website of the National Portrait Gallery)

I think we can all agree that the National Portrait Gallery is filled with the white and wealthy. There were very few portraits of people of color, and even then they could only be found in the modern section. I found this was also true with portraits of women. Most of the the paintings seemed to feature men. As a woman, I found this both sad and frustrating. I was also disappointed by the fact that in the earliest collections of portraits almost every face looked the same. When I commented on this to Amy, she told me that at this time sitters would pose in order to look dignified, influential, and noble. This answers some of my question, but looking beyond the posing to the actual faces, I was still struck by the replication of features. It made me seriously question the legitimacy of each likeness. I wonder to what degree the artist might have altered the sitters actual appearance and if so, was it done for a reason?
The portrait I chose, Mrs Philip de László has a bit more personality. (Photo taken from the National Portrait Gallery, http://www.npg.org.uk/whatson/display/philip-de-laszlo.php)
I picked this portrait because I simply just fell in love with it. I hadn’t ever heard of Philip de Laszlo before today, but my eye was immediately drawn to his collection which featured more women than some of the other artists. This portrait is of Lucy, his wife. I think the idea of painting both her actual body and her reflection adds some originality. It is certainly mush different than the stiff dignified portraits of the Tudors and Elizabethans. The portrait reminds me more of a candid photo. Her chin rests on the palm of her hand in a very relaxed but graceful manner. But I think it is her eyes that really make the painting. Instead of looking upon her own reflection in the mirror, her gaze is focused on her husband. This changes the tone of the painting into something much more intimate and warm. It brings much more life to the sitter than the repetitive blank faces of the first portraits we saw.

I first have to state that this is a blog about people watching, not art or museums.  My trip to the Tate Modern confirmed something I’ve suspected for a long time:  I just don’t get modern art.  I don’t get the art itself or the the people who do.  For the most part (there is some modern art I find appealing), I found that what I saw was trying too hard to say something and in the end, was communicating no message whatsoever to me.  Yes, paint splatter looks interesting, but to quote the seven-year-old girl who walked by me, “Daddy, I can do one of these!”  One exhibit, a series of pieces by Agnes Martin felt as if the artist looked as if someone had taken a bunch of American Apparel t-shirts, made them very large, and put them on a wall.  I just could not get a sense of “euphoria, contentment and memories of past happiness” (for more go here) from a series of stripes.

Taken from the Tate Modern Website

Once I had realized that I was not going to be spending my afternoon sunk into an emotional pit inspired by paint splatter and lumpy statues, I turned to people watching.  This activity confirmed what I’ve long suspected:  modern art officianados are the same no matter where you are.  There seem to be two breeds: those who actually know what they are talking about and those who do not but wish to appear like they do.  The first is a fairly respectable bunch.  They tend to be middle aged (with some exceptions, of course), upper middle class, educated, and most of all, unpretentious.  The other category is much more fun to watch: those who wish to seem cultured.  They tend to be young adults adhering to the “hipster trend” (the men are over groomed and the women are disheveled) and have a number of behaviors: there is the intellectual pose (involves leaning slightly back with a hand on one’s chin and staring intensely to the corner of a piece of “art”), and the catch phrase (a hurried “yeah, yeah, yeah” followed by some inane and impossible to understand comment about the power of a poka-dot).  This is not an exclusively English symptom — it transcends borders and appears in almost every single modern art museum I’ve ever been to.  I’m not quite sure what this says about modern art or humanity in general, but I do find a strange comfort in knowing that across nations people experience the same insecurities and behaviors.

For the majority of human civilization history has been recorded by and about men. Today we learned that portraits are just another form of history telling. In the patriarchal society that has emerged in Europe in the past few centuries, powerful men have had their likenesses recorded by painters and photographers alike. The artists, who too were white men for the most part, helped to record a history in paintings that has sent the message that in any given era, white men were the only people worthy of remembrance.

Not all of these men illustrated however, were men that were famous or powerful. One portrait that drew my attention, John Ballantyne’s The Artist’s Studio depicts a man, small and off center, carving the lions that would one day sit in London’s Trafalgar Square. It took a little researching but I finally found the picture to be painted of Sir Edwin Henry Landseer, someone whose name I was not familiar with but whose work I had seen dozens of times either on television or on the street. Even in the photo, this man is in the shadow of these monstrous lions, symbols of the aristocracy. It was interesting to finally get another perspective on the monuments all over London. All of these monuments honor great men, but behind all of them were unknown artists commissioned to sculpt or paint for little or no recognition or acclaim.

(photo from http://www.nnf10.org.uk/programme/detail/The_Artists_Studio)

Although the gallery was filled mostly with white rich men, it was refreshing to see this one painting of an almost normal guy who, like everyone else, was a subject and servant to an immutable class system.