Useless ornamentation

My roommate Alison and I went to see an exhibit at the V&A today entitled "modernism" which translates roughly to "scary block buildings with no useless ornamentation, designed to hygenically house the working man in affordable and comfortable boxes." As a design movement I can really appreciate modernism, especially coming hot on the heels of Victorianism and WW1, but...I like useless ornamentation. You're talking about someone who has pulled flowers off of passing bushes and tucked them in her hair and once tried to dye her dog purple. What I liked the most was watching the videos of the modernist performances they had. One of the pieces was entitled "Triadic Ballet" choreographed by Oskar Schlemmer, and it featured costumes that reduced performers to machines performing tasks--instead of how costumes usually work. I.e, the costumes are built to accommodate the dancer's movements, not the other way around. Here's a picture of what I'm talking about. The costume at the far right is called "The Diver" and it was actually on display--a larger than life construction that was part Mardi-Gras, part nightmare.


Speaking of dance, Greta and I went to see "Le Ballet de Trockadero de Monte Carlo" on Wenesday. This ballet was actually a collection of smaller pieces, and it is unique because it is performed entirely by men--en pointe. I was absolutely astonished at the technical skill of these dancers, as well as, of course, hugely entertained by all the little diva moments they threw in to poke fun at the pretentiousness of ballet. The best piece had to be "The Dying Swan" if only because the costume the performer was wearing shedded feathers up and down the length of the stage--thereby signalling there was going to be an interval soon to give underpaid stagehands a chance to sweep it up. The show wasn't high camp exactly, but it was damn funny.



Afterward Greta and I strolled to Trafalgar Square, savouring the night air, but as we came around the corner of the National Gallery, I staggered back, threw a hand up in the air in horror and exclaimed (loudly:) "What happened to Nelson's Column?!" For behold! Nelson's Column is completely surrounded by scaffolding! Greta thought this was incredibly funny. "Nelson was so upset when you dumped him that he threatened to jump off so they had to put something up to stop him." Which set me off laughing so hard several people crossed the street lest they be infected by my demons. Seriously, though, it is disconcerting to have this "icon" of London all bundled up like an estate that's being torn down. I know St. Paul's has recently undergone the indignity of restoration, but they had a big picture of it on the front of the scaffold. Nelson's Column is just...surrounded. Except for the statue poking out at the top--which, now that it's the only thing you can see--really looks every inch of its fourteen feet.