Back to Brighton

People are delightful. I like people, mostly. But after a period of being around people all the time, I need a long period with no people. And there are some things I don't like to do with people at all. If you are my friend, I probably don't want to go to an art museum that I've never explored alone with you. It's nothing personal. It's not a particularly social thing to do, anyway, because museums are quiet. And everyone has a different museum pace. And different interests. It could ruin a friendship to rush through things when one person wants to move slowly! Isn't it much nicer to be solitary in this situation? Just being real, here.

After being constantly around family for several weeks now (minus a couple hours here and there), Friday I went to the National Gallery. I went alone, spoke to nobody I knew from 10-6, and it was kind of a perfect day. I love my family. I really do. But I also really like just hanging out by myself sometimes.

Note the snow.

Now, going into London from Brighton Friday was probably not the best choice I've ever made. It was snowing, and I was warned many times that I would probably wind up spending the night in Victoria Station, or that if I managed to make it home at all it would be a long and arduous process. But, as anyone who knows me can tell you, I like to court danger at every turn. More realistically, as anyone who knows me can tell you, it takes more than a little snow to keep me away from The Arnolfini Portrait. In any case, I made another wise choice and also didn't do my research on how to get there particularly well, beyond a general list of tube stops. So though I ended up having to walk a fair distance, it was through Whitehall and around Westminster and really quite nice (if a bit cold and wet). And at the end of the day, it only took me two hours to get home... instead of the usual ~50 minutes. But it was on a warm train and I had a seat and a cup of tea so it was completely worth it.

I accidentally saw Big Ben.

Now that we've had a romp through Claire's dubious travel decision making, there's the gallery itself. I am an art history major in denial. I love art history. I love history (my real major), as well, which explains the denial part, because a double major is a bit daunting... but this is all a problem for another day. I was so very excited to go to the National Gallery because a lot of the works I studied in my art history class this past semester live there. It's one thing to see masterpieces projected onto a screen--it's another thing to get down low at the proper angle to see the skull in Hans Holbein's The Ambassadors with the actual large work staring you in the face. Magnificent art in person is just a treat, especially when you have already have some level of familiarity with what you're looking at. It's like paying a visit to old friends! And the National Gallery is like paying a visit to dozens of old friends all at once!

The only things I don't like about art museums are the crowds (which are inevitable) and the display of things, sometimes. The info panels in the National Gallery are better than most, but the presentation of works occasionally leaves something to be desired. Some works appear behind smudgy glass, and some are placed as such that you can barely see them without a large amount of glare. Small complaints, but they did detract from the visual experience a bit and deserve to be mentioned. I think this says more about how hard it is to curate museums than any particular failure on the National Gallery's part, and it certainly didn't ruin my enjoyment of my day.