Breaking Things and Pounding Nails at Reykjavik Art Museum

How often do you get the chance to go into an art museum and touch the artwork?

What about break the artword?

What about vandalizing the art with your graffiti?

What about pounding nails into a canvas?

In Reykjavik, this was all possible. 

When I last visited Reykjavik in 2011, I was deeply sad to be leaving after only four days with still lots of see and explore. One of my deepest regrets was passing by a gallery on our bus to the airport and thinking “I bet Reykjavik has an awesome art scene and I didn’t see a bit of it…” 

When I returned last winter, I had an ambitious itinerary which included an unexpected 3-day jaunt to the west fjords, meaning that I had even less time in the city than planned, so I didn’t get to go on my great art tour as expected, but I did manage to go to the Reykjavik Art Museum. 

With a few exceptions, I usually don’t blog about museums because I can’t take photographs and the experience is pretty standard but I was pleasantly surprised by an exhibit at the Reykjavik Art Museum which was much more interaction than I imagined. 

This exhibit was designed by Yoko Ono, and in her own unique style, it featured lots of curious weirdness. 

A canvas you can create

Visitors pasting broken ceramic back together

Hammering a nail into the canvas...it was very loud

Created by museum visitors

Messages from visitors

Map of the world, were you can stamp "peace" in the places that need it

Hello Yoko, is is me you're looking for?

Wall of testimonials from woman who experienced sexual assault

Wishing tree, write a wish and hang it on the branch

In addition to the Yoko Ono exhibit and another floor of artworks by Icelandic artists, the museum also featured a pretty cool art library. And we know how I feel about art libraries...

Mathaf: A pioneer journey to the corners of Doha’s most avant-garde art scene

Ari and myself in front of Mathaf #lifegoals

It was only when our cab driver took a right turn off the road and into the expansive sands of Doha, that I thought “this place really is off the grid.”

I had arrived in Doha, Qatar that morning, on a day jaunt with a friend from Dubai. Of course everyone had told us to the famous Museum of Islamic Art near the pier, but I was on a special mission.

I wanted to see Mathaf (pronounced Matt-hoff), the Arab Museum of Modern Art. . This place looked more avantgard than I expected for Qatar, and it was mostly run by young people – art students from the local community college. It seemed like a fascinating place to visit, and one that would be much more reflective of Doha art scene.

The museum’s website warned that it was hard to find (like everything in Doha), and that it was only accessible by taxi (like everything in Doha). I’m sure I even read something that said most taxi drivers won’t be familiar with it’s location or address. Thankfully, it is not so far off-the-grid that it doesn’t have a Google pin. When I had wifi in Dubai I pinned it on the map. As expected, our driver had no clue how to get there, so I sat in the back seat, staring at the moving blue dot on my iphone map, and telling the driver where and when to turn.

a typical view through the window of a taxi cab on the way to Mathaf

As we neared the museum we couldn’t find a road that would take us there. I asked t driver to pull over and showed him the map. The museum to the right of us, according to the map, though I couldn’t see it from the car window. There were no road visible on the map that lead there. And, looking out the window, there were no roads visible from the car either. Only a sandy pastier separates us from our destination, so the driver, no doubt annoyed and wanted to get us out of his car and to our destination as quickly as possible, turned the cab towards the pasture and drove through the sand until we spotted the driveway of the museum.

Once a curious white building came into view, I knew we had arrived at the right place. I timed our trip so that we would arrive 30 minutes before the scheduled special exhibition tour at noon.

We purchased our tickets first from two college-age women at the front counter. They wore the typical Qatar dress of a black abaya and black hijab. They spoke fluent English and were helpful.

There was plenty to do to keep us busy at that time. We browsed the gift shop, café, library, and student exhibition.

Even the bathroom signs are beautiful and uniquely Qatar, see the abaya

Note the dishdasha or shabaab and the keffiyeh

Cool lockers

Inside the library

Our guide, Ali, was a twenty-year-old student from the local community college. He had a gentle voice and spoke flawless English. Like the other young staff at the museum, he was not only interested in art, but also in different cultures. In particular, he wanted a chance to use English and meet people from all over the world. While casually conversing with him along the exhibit, I learned that he was soon planning to move to the United States to attend college. I asked him where he was going, and in a freakish coincidence, he said that he would be going to Portland, Oregon. I told him I was from Portland, and I asked him for the name of the college.As it turned out, he would be going to the same college where I worked!

Visitors now will not have to endure the hectic ordeal I had in getting to Mathaf. There is now a free shuttle bus that takes visitors from the easily accessible Museum of Islamic Art to Mathaf every hour of the day. However, at the time of writing this, it appears that construction is still obstructing the main road to the museum, so a detour is in use.

Experiential Art in LA

When I lived in LA I almost never visited museums. This is strange because I have always been a lover of art, and I have always visited museums in cities I travel to, but in over three years in LA I never went to the LACMA, or the MOCA, and only once to the Geffen.

When I returned to the city about 6 years, I wanted to see it all, and not just the museums of the exhibits, I wanted to do every experiential art exhibit I could. None of these exhibits were easy to see. I had to book tickets for all of them one week-3 months in advance and wait for hours.  I planned my day around these exhibits I was strategic – and you have to be. Demand definitely exceeds supply. 

Experiential art is basically the fifth dimension. 

To me, there’s 2D art - paintings, drawings – which are only viewed from straight ahead. Like this:

3D art  - sculpture – which had be viewed from multiple angles. Like this:

Jeff Koons  - Balloon Dog

 4D art: Installations – which take up entered rooms or sections of room, where you are immersed in the art, but you are still viewing – not participating. Like this:

Robert Therrien - Under the Table

 And then there is experiential art, which immerses you in the art the way an installation does, but also invites you to participate, to feel affected by the art and to affect the art in return.  This is an entirely new level of interacting with art.

Infinity Room, Broad Museum

“Yayoi Kusama's Infinity Mirrored Room, a mirror-lined chamber housing a dazzling and seemingly endless LED light display, will be featured in the inaugural installation. This experiential artwork on the museum’s first floor has limited capacity, accommodating one visitor at a time for approximately 45 seconds, and will require a separate free timed ticket, which general admission ticket holders will be able to reserve after arrival at the museum.”

-       From The Broad’s website

The room itself does not take reservations, but you should make reservations at the Broad 3 months in advance. Try to make a reservation for the time the museum opens, then go 15 minutes early and wait in line. When you arrive, you’ll be able to enter the queue by signing up at a kiosk. The Broad is so professional and organized that we had no problem seeing this exhibit – so we went back and saw it twice!

Panorama shot

Classic selfie

Rain Room, LACMA

“Random International’s Rain Room (2012) is an immersive environment of perpetually falling water that pauses wherever a human body is detected. The installation offers visitors an opportunity to experience what is seemingly impossible: the ability to control rain. Rain Room presents a respite from everyday life and an opportunity for sensory reflection within a responsive relationship.”

- From the LACMA’s website

We booked tickets to the Rain Room 3 months in advance, and they were sold out by the time we fly to LA to see it. With times tickets, we didn’t have to wait in a queue, we just showed up 5 minutes before going into the room. It was definitely a cool experience, but a bit 22 people in the room felt like 5 too many. If people stand too close to one another then the rain doesn’t fall between then – so with a big group it hardly rains at all. The lighting was also really dramatic and enhanced the experience  of being in the room, but made it hard to take photos. Also, they tell you not to wear black clothing because the sensors have a difficult time detecting dark colors. But, well, I have black hair…so I got rained on a lot.

I ended up getting more than a little wet

Break Bred, Think Tank Gallery

"The duo built a 7,000-square-foot cake castle and candied urban block party called “Break Bread,” which opens Saturday in downtown L.A.’s Think Tank Gallery. The six-room cake maze -- made from delicious-looking spackle and house paint topped with real candy – resembles ornately decorated, pillowy white cake with sugar cream frosting. Chandeliers made of shimmering hard candies and gumdrops dangle from the ceiling. Circus mirrors embedded in cake give the illusion that the sugary oasis stretches on for infinity."

- Deborah Vankin, LA Times

The Think Tank Gallery happened to have an interesting exhibit while we were in LA. This tiny gallery is located through a discreet passage in the midst of busting Santee avenue. Up a flight of stairs and into a maze of walk-in cake room made out of clay, this was another interesting experience. It was extremely crowded and I couldn't help but wish the cake was real, but at least I can check another thing off my bucket list. 

Breathing Room, LACMA

“James Turrell, considered one of the most important artists of the Southern California Light and Space movement, was born in Los Angeles in 1943 and attended Pomona College, where he studied art, art history, mathematics, perceptual psychology and astronomy. He took graduate courses at the University of California, Irvine, and received a master's degree in fine art from Claremont Graduate School. Breathing Light is one of the artist's Ganzfeld pieces: an installation designed to entirely eliminate the viewer's depth perception. James Turrell’s art is a nexus for the worlds of art, science, architecture, astronomy, mathematics, archaeology, and spirituality.”

- From the LACMA’s website

This is probably my favorite of all the experiences, and it is the one that was easiest to see. No reservations are needed, but when you show up to the LACMA, you should write your name on a kiosk to be added to the queue as soon as possible. A note about the kiosk – it’s often wrong. Both times I saw the Breathing Light room, my expected was 85 minutes – and ended up being 120 minutes, and 45 minutes – which turned into 90 minutes. Though the kiosk is  inaccurate, it’s well worth the wait. This room truly feels like you are breathing in light. It fluctuates from deep blue to violet red in intervals, and 5 minutes in the room is just about enough time to experience one interval. The shift is so subtle it’s hardly noticeable. Everything about your perception changes when you are inside the room. I feel differently, I think differently. It is transformative.  

Unfortunately I was not allowed to take photos in the Breathing Light Room, so I am showing some that others have taken.

Photo courtesy of http://hyperallergic.com/74499/inside-the-light-james-turrell-in-la/

Photo courtesy of http://www.nbclosangeles.com/entertainment/the-scene/Breathing-Light-Enjoys-Longer-LACMA-Run-260369051.html

Photo Diary: Street Art in Georgetown

The street art in Penang has become so famous there are even tourist maps showing where you can find this artwork. Around the more famous pieces  are crowds of tourists waiting to be photographed beside the artwork. Despite this commercialization of Penang's graffiti, I had a few happy discoveries of my own. This is a collection of photographs of all the street art work I found in Penang, some of it very famous, and others obscure.