To Mona or not to Mona - and the 'Exhib-iPad '

I've seen two exhibitions on Leonardo da Vinci - both taught me a great deal about the man. And both were thought-provoking, in different ways.

Exhibition Number One: Singapore's Art Science Museum 

(an amazing building in the shape of a hand) hosts the Da Vinci exhibition, described as:

'Presenting original masterpieces by da Vinci for the first time in Southeast Asia, the exhibition focuses on the Codex Atlanticus, da Vinci’s largest notebook.'
Some of these notebook pages are on view, in low lighting, at the end of the exhibition. Now here's a spoiler, so if necessary please look away - Leonardo wrote backwards in mirror writing, for the most part. I can read backwards handwriting in English, but in 16th century Italian? That's a challenge.

Never mind...  There are activities to test your science and engineering skills. And there are panels and models describing da Vinci's work in all areas, including music which I didn't know about. And three contemporary artists' work is on display, showing how they were inspired by the great man.  All well and good. I was better informed about da Vinci, his theories, his practice and his life, than I had been. Thank you, Art Science Museum. 

However, I was disappointed that there are only a handful of real paintings to gaze at, and these are from the School of da Vinci. If you pay to enter a Museum exhibition, is it unreasonable to expect see an appreciable amount of the artist's or others' work? And to make up your own mind about his skill, with a little help from the curator? I was confused and frustrated by the notebook pages which are hard to read because of the low lighting and the mirror-writing, even though I could admire the sketches and pen-work.

So here's my suggestion: Maybe some of the pages could have been transcribed (typed) and translated? Some visitors may need help in understanding the theories behind the work, and enjoy the interactive displays which are fun and educational. But others are used to using our own powers of observation. We just want to see what's displayed - properly.

And so to Exhibition Number Two in the Arts House (the former Parliament Building, a gorgeous Palladian number) which hosts an exhibition entitled 'The Earlier Mona Lisa' described as: '650 square metre, tablet-led, interactive audiovisual exhibition'

Here's the story: there is evidence that Leonardo painted more than one portrait of 'La Gioconda'. An earlier version was known to exist and was 'rediscovered' in 1913 in Bath, England by art curator, Mr Blaker, and has been authenticated by many scholars. First you are shown the 'evidence' from Vasari's Lives of the Artists, and other witnesses, to build the case for the defence. Then you are taken through the painting's many homes and journeys after Mr Blaker unearths it. 

Next comes the technique, showing how Leonardo's artistic methods have been examined over the centuries, to add more evidence.

(Leonardo's advice on preparing a canvas - fascinating!)

Finally, you can see one piece of original artwork: the Earlier Mona Lisa itself. It is hung in the Parliament Chamber, in the spot where the Speaker would have presided.

(The stately Parliament Chamber - Prime Minister LKY sat on the left)

But here's the crunch: the way you have to experience this exhibition, which consists almost exclusively of wall panels, is through a tablet computer. This tells you everything you need to know about the history of 'the Earlier Mona' and how it's seen by today's academics.  The tablet gives you a commentary, from two to fourteen minutes per section, a total of over an hour I'd reckon. And it is not just an audio commentary, it's a documentary, and you need to watch the screen because the wall panels don't tell you very much at all.

I'm entering a new world here - the world of the iPad exhibition. The documentary film on the tablet was excellent, yes, really excellent. And I would have loved to have watched it in one fell swoop at home or in a cinema. But sitting on the floor of the Arts House because chairs are scarce? Hmmm.

At the end of the exhibition, you reach the Parliament Chamber where the real portrait is on display. I sat in former Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew's chair to gaze at it, and recapped the some sections of the documentary on the tablet  - how Mr Blaker came across the masterpiece; and how to evaluate Leonardo's techniques and magical use of geometry.

Again, I learned a fair bit about Da Vinci. And I enjoyed examining the real 'Earlier Mona' because it's so much easier on the eye than the Louvre version - she has a much more pleasant demeanour. 

But here are my suggestions: if you can't afford to transport any artefacts or artworks to mount your exhibition, why not make it truly interactive with actors and artists reenacting scenes and techniques, with replica scenes, blow-ups of newspaper evidence that we can read properly, fabrics and paints and canvases that we can touch and smell, areas where kids can get messy with crayons, crawl over canvases and play with Florentine costumes? I for one would love to try my hand at left-handed brush-strokes (he was left-handed), copying the embroidery on her dress, or exploring 'sfumato'.  

There were plenty of reenacted scenes in the documentary film from the Renaissance and from when Mr Blaker goes to Somerset to examine the masterpiece which a no-longer-so-wealthy family was anxious to sell. There was even footage of WW1 trenches to evoke the period during which the masterpiece was sent overseas to Boston for safekeeping. 

(There you are - I did take in a lot of information from the video!)  

These scenes must have cost a fair amount to stage. However, with a little more ingenuity, the curators could have taken up the challenge. They could have employed actors and artists to give kids and adults a real chance to experience Leonardo's skills. And this in turn would help some of the artists working in this city state, here and now. 

And finally, could someone invent a new word - an 'exhibiPad', perhaps - to encapsulate the experience of the tablet 'exhibition'?  Singaporeans are masters at making up words, so please find a term for this type of experience. Is it an exhibition when it doesn't have an appreciable number of exhibits? You can decide.

Feeling wobbly

Here's an image I never thought I'd have to compose - a pile of marshmallows on a merry-go-round. 

(Please note: No marshmallows were mistreated during this photo-session, except for the two I ate!)

It's a line in Princess Petunia's Dragon, where Petunia is feeling all kind of wobbly when she realises the problems she will face trying to smuggle her new pet dragon into the Castle. (And avoiding the thirty three soldiers, twenty two maids, twelve bowmen, ten buglers, five cooks, two jesters, a jailer, and the King and Queen of course.)

My dear friend, Sophia, who lives in New York, recently told her Mum that she was feeling out of sorts - 'just like a pile of marshmallows on a merry-go-round, in fact'. 

Thank you, Sophia! I do hope the feeling disappeared quickly.
   

And feeling wobbly is familiar to me even now, especially when I get up after a long session of typing, my head still in the clouds of my character's story.

Finally, here's an article that I read out in my weekly news-reading session at the SAVH (for the Visually Handicapped). More wobbly fun....

Story Hat

Trying on a heavy Chinese Opera Hat may not be that comfortable, but two visits in one weekend to see Susanna Goho Quek has got to be one of the best weekend treats I've had.  

Her antique shop in Lot 10, in the Golden Triangle area of Kuala Lumpur, is a real haven, cushioned from the big city by stunning antique furniture from China, and her own vibrant paintings. 

I could have spent all day listening to tales of her family who performed Chinese Opera. Or of her trips to China to buy all manner of antiques, such as tiger rugs, beds, window shutters and cabinets. Or of her collection of embroidered slippers for bound feet, a passion that dates back to seeing her own Grandmother's slippers. 

But Susanna is much more than an antique dealer. She is an artist and children's writer and illustrator. Her third picture book, 'Fun at the Opera', was published earlier this year. The story tells of the children's growing excitement as their older brother prepares for his new Opera show. First they help by scrubbing the car clean for the big occasion; then once they arrive at the Opera Theatre, they can't contain themselves, and sneak off backstage to try on the costumes and make-up. Finally back in their seats, they watch Ah Kor make his grand, dramatic entrance to the clamour of drums and cymbals. Back home, tired and happy, Por Por (Granny) sings them a soft lullaby. 


The text is printed in English and Mandarin, and translations are available in Malay and French, while I'm currently making a Spanish version. 




To quote David Seow, writer and children's picture book author:

"Fun at the Opera is like a song in itself. The delicious illustrations enhance the perfect prose of this magical story. Goho-Quek brings the enchanted world of Chinese Opera alive and leaves you wanting more."

Along with writing and illustrating picture books and a collection of poetry for children, Susanna gives art classes, and has run her impART courses, training teenage refugees in Kuala Lumpur to become art teachers, thus giving them an invaluable skill. 


Susanna is constantly innovating - using vibrant acrylics and appliqué, and even making jewellery. I was thrilled to find she had some arm bands and necklaces for sale, using beaded cloth from a baby-carrier and her own choice of beads sewn on top. 




Her shop is House of Suzie Wong

HOUSE OF SUZIE WONG  P9, Fourth Floor, Lot 10 Shopping Centre, 50 Jalan Sultan Ismail, 50250 Kuala Lumpur. Tel : 03 - 2141 0482

Below are some fabulous, zinging examples of Susanna's work

When a man loves a woman...

... and a woman loves writing, well, things start to happen!

It all started at 3am on Wednesday morning. 
"Em, love, my face is swollen."
I sat bolt upright.

The swelling was painful to see.  Minutes later we were in Tan Tock Seng hospital being administered to. My poor husband looked like an alien. His speech was slurred. His cheeks and lips so extended that even to call him trout-lips was a compliment.

What had happened?

The duty doctor and the ENT specialist both tried. But neither had a clue. The nurse joked  and offered to swap passports. (What? Work in the NHS instead of this fabulous Singapore hospital?)  They jabbed and prodded and poked. Thank goodness his tongue and throat were ok. 

I wandered between the observation room, where a dozen bedded patients were lined up, and the waiting room, with its free-biscuits-and-hot-and-cold-running-water-dispenser.  This wasn't devotion. This was payback. How many times had Jim come with me to hospital? I can't even do the sum. 

By 5am selfish thoughts began to creep in. How was I going to perform later that morning? I had to entertain a class of 11-year-olds who had chosen to spend their holidays being creatively inspired by writers like me! I had never done this before.  My lovely friend, Denise Tan of Closetful of Books, had helped me compile a booklet for them to use. But was it acceptable to fall asleep at the desk after telling them to "get on with it"? Possibly not. Then....

BING!

THE LIGHTS WENT ON! 

I grinned. I hummed. I even helped myself to some more hot-and-cold-running-water to celebrate.

Forget the introductions. Forget trying to be inventive and creative.  It's all here, right in front of you.  Truth stranger than fiction? You bet. 

I mimed telling the young students about our night of horror. Our speculations of how Jim had been targeted by some alien, invisible beast, who'd attacked him, leaving no trace. An alien who'd discovered... what? That we weren't exactly what we said we were? No, wait, the students would do the rest.

I grinned for the next hour.

"I'm so grateful, Em," he kept saying.
"No problem," I said magnanimously. "Alien attacks always go down well with eleven year olds. You've made life much easier for me."

(NB, photo of me wearing the heart-monitor stickers and the blue visitors' bracelet to prove to the students I wasn't making this up)

Now what shall I do next time?

Weaving a Story at the Story Museum

Last week I went with Anita Loughrey and three eleven year-olds to the Story Museum in Oxford. I had heard about it at the London Book Fair a couple of years ago. Then I saw an article in the Sunday papers. My holiday in England was half-way through, so I grabbed the chance to go.  

I could spend hours telling you about everything in there: the helpful staff, the "26 Characters" whose names we had to guess and stamps we had to collect, the laughter and the "Oh this is sooo cool!"s of our three young friends.  But I don't want to spoil it if you are going there yourself.

So here's a round-up of our tour. And I should say it's equally fun for adults as for kids. No need to feel odd if you're not accompanied by young'uns. Though having Joe, Jack and Tanaka there made it even more fun.

1 The Changing Room.  Dress up in any way you choose, create your name, and sit on a throne while a voice magically announces you.  
-  Love the fur coat. Anyone for a sausage?

2  Check out the amazing Story Loom, invented by an imaginative Victorian, or not?  

[The boys were too busy dressing up. I was entranced by this contraption, though.]

3  Wander, wonder and explore... each room houses one or more stories.
Can you guess what they are?  And what sort of door we came through? 
Fake snow was a hit! 

4  Create your own story on the Story Spinner - a character, a place and a theme - then write and draw your picture.  Or just keep spinning for the fun of it.

5  Now for a portrait. Put yourself in the frame.  And check out all the real portraits. 

6  Choose your favourite place. Needless to say, Narnia was a real hit. 
For me it's hard to decide, but I did love Just William's Shed, and The Borrowers' drawer.

7 And finally ... once we'd filled up on panini, we climbed St Mary's Tower to gaze at the city.  Goodbye, and thank you so much, Oxford Story Museum. We had a fantastic morning.  

And a quick postscript - I loved the atmosphere inside the building, and the fact that it was in the back half of the Post Office. Not hard to imagine the telephone exchange and the canteen. The whole place gave me a sense of being 'back stage'...to so many different stories. 

The Story Museum: Home

www.storymuseum.org.uk/

WWW without the dot

Little Red Jot isn't on the Little Red Dot. She's travelling in the UK. And she's conscious that she hasn't blogged for ages.... so here goes!

Who can recognize the fuzzy feeling in the brain when everything seems to be shaking around like an old fashioned ‘snow scene’ toy?

I’m not talking about jetlag. Or hangover. Or too many coffees. I’m talking about WWW without the dot.

I thought of it after remembering some advice from my writing tutor, Josh Lacey, at City Lit.  A fellow writer was explaining that she’d reached the stage with her children’s novel where she knew she had to start her story all over again. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. Some of us sighed with her. But Josh nodded and said, “Welcome to the wonderful world of writing.” More nods rolled around the room. A few writers looked bewildered. But the unspoken words hung in the air – “You’ll reach that point too, don’t worry!”

It’s all about your characters.  There they are, down on the page. You’ve reached the end of the -nth draft. And now they’re in rebellion.  They want out. They want a new voice. They aren’t happy with the tone. Oh, for goodness sake! Yes, you’re in the Wonderful World of Writing. And you’re well on the way to convincing any future reader that this book is unputdownable. If only you can calm your characters down....  Welcome to this world.