Shade, an installation by Dutch artist Simon Heijdens, projects sunlight, in kaleidoscopic fashion, onto its facade, according to the speed of the prevailing breeze.
A cellular glass facade that filters natural sunlight into a moving kaleidoscope of light and shadow, directly choreographed by the elements passing outside, to restore the unplanned natural timeline of the outdoors to the interior of the building.
You’ll never guess what the highlight of my trip to The Louvre was. Well, I did study the painting in question for my art history course at high school, and to say that there’s more to it than meets the eye is a veritable understatement.
Viewing the work is likewise the focus of many other visitors to what is one of the best known art museums in the world, but do most of these people zip in and out only to see it, or do they take the time to see more of the treasures within?
Unsurprisingly visitors to The Louvre can be cast into one of two camps, short stayers, people who spend about ninety minutes there, and long stayers, those who stop for at least six hours. Surprisingly though, there is little difference in how much either type of visitor sees, it comes down to how long they take in any given art piece.
Having say an hour to gaze at the Mona Lisa would be a luxury. The jostling crowds make staying in its presence difficult for any longer than a few minutes though.
For the past three years I have taught creative writing to students in science, technology, engineering and medicine at Imperial who can take humanities options for credit. It was the interdisciplinary challenge that intrigued me, but I’ll admit to being sceptical about the students’ writing potential. So I was delighted to be proved wrong: their writing is easily as good – and often better – than that of creative writing students I have taught elsewhere, including at the University of East Anglia. And my external assessors – also writers who teach and hold PhDs from UEA – agree.
What do these objects have in common? They were among sixty-three items that British artist Lenka Clayton retrieved from her son’s mouth during the time he was aged between eight to fifteen months.
Photos of which now feature in a book… maybe these could be given to babies in the hope they’ll look at the pictures of the things they put into their mouths rather than actually putting things in their mouths. Hope springs eternal, right?