Three exhibitions in one day

My two eldest boys and I were privileged to go to a private preview of The British Museum’s exhibition of the First Emperor of China (Ying Zheng). The so-called terracotta army is an insane collection of life-sized clay figures of soldiers, weight lifters, swans, acrobats, musicians and administrators, with whom the First Emperor decided to be buried with – in an attempt to achieve immortality. The idea was that his terracotta army would give him the power in the spirit world that he already enjoyed on earth. Originally painted these statues cost the lives of countless workers.
The objects that were with this army were in some ways more interesting – the money in shape of ploughs, knives and ant faces – the failed firing of tiles etc. melted into a distorted pile – the epitaphs inscribed in bits of clay dedicated to workers who had died whilst under forced labor. A great exhibition.

The British Museum

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Tate Britain explores the history of the Turner Prize with an exhibition of key works by the winning artists and the broader context of each year’s shortlist. This was a great opportunity to see some of these works in one space.

This exhibition shows some of the significant moments in the recent history of British art and the reception of the prize by the press, by artists, and by the public.

Find out more about The Turner Prize: A Retrospective exhibition 2 October 2007 – 6 January 2008.

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We then went to Tate Modern to see the Rothko’s. ‘I’m not an abstractionist. I’m not interested in the relationship of color or form or anything else. I’m interested only in expressing basic human emotions: tragedy, ecstasy, doom, and so on.’ – Mark Rothko. To get to these paintings we had to walk over ‘The Crack’. Doris Salcedo’s Shibboleth is the first work to intervene directly in the fabric of the Turbine Hall by creating a subterranean chasm that stretches the length of the Turbine Hall.

The Unilever Series: Doris Salcedo 9 October 2007 – 6 April 2008.

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About peter

'Death by Sushi' Fish can kill me. When I was very small (maybe 3 or 4 years old) my grandfather, who lost the sight of one eye from a bullet fired by a German sniper (fortunately not a very good one) during the Battle of the Somme in World War 1, wiped my face with the corner of his apron, an apron he had used to wipe his filleting knife on. He was a grocery shopkeeper who specialized in wet fish.