Day Three

The weather began to improve and the snow was thawing. There were patches of grass now jutting out and the gray driveway was covered in translucent, thin sheets of ice. I lazily set out on day three, with grand plans in hand, for the very famous Tate Modern Gallery on Southbank. Now The Tate Modern, opened in 2000, is supposedly one of Britain’s most popular tourist attractions. The Tate gallery originally referred to the collection of art from around the world stored at the pretty and proper gallery in Pimlico. Now there are two Tates. Tate Britain is the gallery of art as it evolved through the ages in Britain and elsewhere. Tate Modern is dedicated solely to art of the contemporary form. Where the former is an old lady in a blue cardigan sipping tea and discussing “…that outrageous story in the paper today”, the latter is a tattooed skin-head, with earphones stuck to ears, and hair dyed purple (and possibly gay).

Like great travelers (that I am one of the foremost, there is no doubt) will tell you, the art of traveling well lies in blending in, of taking in elements of local life and going with the flow. This I did to the full, by carrying a copy of Time Out London guide in hand and by idiotically wandering all around Southark tube station looking for Tate.

As if starting out late wasn’t bad enough, my complete inability to read maps didn't help. Walking from Southark station to Southbank, I finally found Tate Modern morosely looking down at me from behind many other art galleries. On my last trip to London, intended as I had to visit both the Tates, Tate Britain bored me so much that I happily gave 'Modern a miss. Tate Britain isn't so bad, actually. But how many paintings can you look at anyway. I can look at a few dozen, and occasionally go ahh and smile; then I head for the cafe. I found out only much later that Tate Modern is more popular and cooler than Tate Britain and all that (Time Out knows so much, it isn't funny). The Tate Modern building used to be a power station until it was converted into an art gallery in 2000. It is a less than ordinary square building, stout and dark from the outside. A large grey ramp takes you through to the reception and shop. The left side of the building is called the Turbine Room for that was where the turbines were housed in the days of the building's dark and murky past.

There were many exhibitions on on that day. Each of these was sponsored by corporate majors like UPS, and Ernst and Young. I expected to have epiphanies dawning to clear my pedestrian incomprehension of modern art upon entering Britain's most acclaimed collection of the stuff. But the gray area lies intact. This was not conventional art, and in that some were striking. A good few paintings/displays, to me, achieved a good balance between being both artistic and managing to convey something powerful and profound. My lungs were taxed sufficiently in suppressing laughing-fits at my own rude jokes about most other paintings.

I could however appreciate only the more famous artists- Picasso, Matisse, Bacon, Warhol et al. The emphasis on educating the interested and curious on important milestones and artists is simply remarkable. An information room lets visitors browse all details of the collection, request info and sign up for art clubs. They have free-art appreciation camps for young people. My favorite bit was the many video stations playing films on art and the evolution of the gallery. There were some counters where you could watch mini biopics on artists you were interested in. The visitors at the gallery were much younger than at any other place i've seen in London.

One display, called Thirty Pieces of Silver by a recent artist had thirty sets of silver cutlery steamrolled and suspended from the roof a few inches above the ground using gossamer threads. "It took us three weeks to set this up" a man whose name tag read Matthew said. Matthew works for Tate Modern and explained that this is from the Tate's permanent collection and tried to explain to a confused looking me that it was quite a task to choose the sets from the larger collection that will go on display.

I liked this exhibit partly for its name. The display speaks of how people are presented silver at weddings and happy occasions which are later discarded without a second thought. Thirty pieces of silver were given to Judas as a bribe to betray Jesus and the artist thinks that discarding gifts listlessly amounts to betrayal of symbols of warmth and love.

"That is why Tate Modern is so popular, we get all kinds of people. Ones interested in art and the people who normally don't visit art galleries." Matthew said, while asking me in the same breath if I liked art. I sheepishly admitted that I belonged to the second category.

He lived in Calcutta for six months doing charity work many years ago and wanted to visit Darjeling and Agra but didn't leave Calcutta simply because he loved its people. "People there can smile in the face of any conditions" he reminisced. "Very political people there" I said, talking of West Bengal's communism irrelevantly, responding to his stereotypical notions with some of my own. "Which is the city known for its technological expertise?" he asked of Bangalore before advising me on what places to visit in Europe, stifling a chuckle when this non-lover-of-art screamed "Rome."

Finishing with Tate, I crossed the Millenium Bridge over the river to St. Paul's Cathedral. It was beginning to get dark and it was too late to take the St. Paul's tour. I took a few pictures, took a look inside and left.

God, the sky is beautiful before sunset. And the trains? They're insane.