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Nov. 10th, 2005 06:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nnyI was going to update my journal with breathless squeeing about the art gallery, but as is so frequent of late, suddenly I'm not in the mood.
I went to see the 'Victorian Dreamers' exhibition, and I spent around twenty minutes just sitting on a bench in front of this sculpture, absorbing. Alfred Gilbert's Icarus. I wish the picture were better - frequently photos don't seem to take into account that with art, context is everything. But it was just gorgeous, and I'm going to see it again, soon.
And something that caught my eye the other day:
Failing and Flying by Jack Gilbert.
It seems far more appropriate, now.
ETA: Deep breaths and apple juice.
There was Edward Burne-Jones art, someone who, along with Henry Holiday, has designed some of the most beautiful stained glass I have ever seen. I adore stained glass, which may be because of the angels.
I have a thing about angels which, while it may have begun with Aziraphale, has now progressed far beyond there. Detail of feathers and musculature, swords, not namby pamby angels, or guardian angels. Angels such as the one in The Vintner's Luck. I've always enjoyed the gradual unfreezing of characters, the progression toward emotion. Blank stone eyes always seemed appropriate for angels.
I'm making little sense, just thinking things through for myself, I suppose.
Angels with human bad habits are always appreciated, too. The smell of cigarette smoke on white feathers. I need to write some more original things, I think.
I went to see the 'Victorian Dreamers' exhibition, and I spent around twenty minutes just sitting on a bench in front of this sculpture, absorbing. Alfred Gilbert's Icarus. I wish the picture were better - frequently photos don't seem to take into account that with art, context is everything. But it was just gorgeous, and I'm going to see it again, soon.
And something that caught my eye the other day:
Failing and Flying by Jack Gilbert.
It seems far more appropriate, now.
ETA: Deep breaths and apple juice.
There was Edward Burne-Jones art, someone who, along with Henry Holiday, has designed some of the most beautiful stained glass I have ever seen. I adore stained glass, which may be because of the angels.
I have a thing about angels which, while it may have begun with Aziraphale, has now progressed far beyond there. Detail of feathers and musculature, swords, not namby pamby angels, or guardian angels. Angels such as the one in The Vintner's Luck. I've always enjoyed the gradual unfreezing of characters, the progression toward emotion. Blank stone eyes always seemed appropriate for angels.
I'm making little sense, just thinking things through for myself, I suppose.
Angels with human bad habits are always appreciated, too. The smell of cigarette smoke on white feathers. I need to write some more original things, I think.
