Well, well, well. Here we are, back at it once again my dear little readers. I type this on a hot summer’s day, sweat lodged in regions I didn’t know could sweat. Far from my village’s white sandy beaches and refreshingly cold Atlantic Ocean. Away from tapas and a dignified standard of living. I type this from the London heat trap I inhabit, surrounded by people drinking Pimm's before noon. What a bleak little place. Before any of my friends say anything about me drinking wine before noon- it’s not the same. One is an alcohol problem, the other is called being European. Please respect it.
With summer here and my will to exist reinstated (thank you Sun and Vitamin D supplements), I of course had to venture out and see what was happening in London town. I found myself at Tate Britain through pure muscle memory and saw an exhibition that caught my eye, the name sounded similar to a film I quite enjoy. “Now you see us: Women artists in Britain 1520-1920”. Women making art? Sign me right up. I went online and booked myself a free ticket, a privilege I have for attending Chelsea College of Arts. Yes I think I’m better than you. Costs £20 quid otherwise.
Not so long ago women were not considered serious contributors to the art world. It’s very debatable whether everyone within the art world sees us as serious contributors today. As a result of this, in the past women had a lot of difficulty with public showings- they were very hard to get. In this same vein, women were excluded from life drawing classes until around the late 1800s- at least in London (lest they lose their modesty of course), and many were painted by history to be muses or amateurs; never the prolific, successful, professional artists they were. I found this exhibition to be incredibly insightful and expansive, with around 150 works on show, all of them accompanied by writing that I read from start to finish. Which is why I went alone. I will not be interrupted during this borderline spiritual experience.
Comments