I have no idea if Glasgow's Western Infirmary was built next to the Kelvingrove Art Gallery through accident or some strange Victorian high minded design for All Round Improvement.
But it is. The hospital where my mother has been laid up in cardiovascular surgery is bang next to the Kelvingrove. She's on level 9 of the Western, and you can look our over the turrets towards the park and the university in one direction, the river and the science museum in the other.
Bang tidy as the Cherub would say.
And five years or so ago, one of my favourite pictures was returned to the Kelvingrove.
The first time I saw Dali's Christ on The Cross According to St James, I would have been about twelve. I can't remember why I was walking around on my own, but I do remember seeing this picture at the end of along corridor and getting it.
You're looking down at Christ, you're in God's place - maybe this is a religious picture that says there's no god? Earth and the fishing boats looks better than that dark lonely heaven; except that there is a heaven, because there is this wonderful Christ figure. And there is a deep peace coming through the dark.
Hey I got it so much, I even remembered the name of this picture even though at the time I had no idea who St James was, or why he had anything to say about Christ.
With an hour to kill before visiting time last week, I went to revisit the picture.
Turns out I'm not the only one to love this picture. Christ on the Cross etc is no longer at the end of his long lonely corridor. He's now part of a popular display. Ensconced in a small cubicle, with a bench for onlookers, and a video explaining the wonder of the picture and its history. Including the time it was attacked by a local Glaswegian. There's longer explanations on the walls of the restoration process, and Dali's inspiration. And crowds. There's a queue to get in and sit and look.
And somewhere along the line, the peace has been lost.
Buy postcard of it, go see mother, don't tell her you've been looking at religious pictures in case..
But it is. The hospital where my mother has been laid up in cardiovascular surgery is bang next to the Kelvingrove. She's on level 9 of the Western, and you can look our over the turrets towards the park and the university in one direction, the river and the science museum in the other.
Bang tidy as the Cherub would say.
And five years or so ago, one of my favourite pictures was returned to the Kelvingrove.
The first time I saw Dali's Christ on The Cross According to St James, I would have been about twelve. I can't remember why I was walking around on my own, but I do remember seeing this picture at the end of along corridor and getting it.
You're looking down at Christ, you're in God's place - maybe this is a religious picture that says there's no god? Earth and the fishing boats looks better than that dark lonely heaven; except that there is a heaven, because there is this wonderful Christ figure. And there is a deep peace coming through the dark.
Hey I got it so much, I even remembered the name of this picture even though at the time I had no idea who St James was, or why he had anything to say about Christ.
With an hour to kill before visiting time last week, I went to revisit the picture.
Turns out I'm not the only one to love this picture. Christ on the Cross etc is no longer at the end of his long lonely corridor. He's now part of a popular display. Ensconced in a small cubicle, with a bench for onlookers, and a video explaining the wonder of the picture and its history. Including the time it was attacked by a local Glaswegian. There's longer explanations on the walls of the restoration process, and Dali's inspiration. And crowds. There's a queue to get in and sit and look.
And somewhere along the line, the peace has been lost.
Buy postcard of it, go see mother, don't tell her you've been looking at religious pictures in case..
14 April 2012 at 11:42
I used to have a copy of this painting on my bedroom wall, when I was in my teens. I think I ripped it from the pages of the Observer magazine.
Anyhow, the peace is probably lost with all the fidgeting in the queue.
Sx
14 April 2012 at 13:21
Did you see the robot exhibit too?
14 April 2012 at 13:36
Funny, I went to the Kelvingrove a few years back, when Jenny was working in Glasgow, but I don't remember that picture at all. Maybe I missed the crucial gallery? I don't even remember seeing it at any Dali exhibitions either. It looks like an amazing painting, I'd love to see it in the flesh.
14 April 2012 at 14:11
Wow that's taken me back a bit. I'm sure my Aunt and Uncle in Newcastle used to have a print of this on their wall. Used to give me the creeps when I was little visiting them but looking at it now, it's a fantastic piece of work and not at all scary.
By the way, I think it's St John rather than James?
14 April 2012 at 14:26
The picture of the long corridor really appeals to me. Quite my kind of thing, yes.
14 April 2012 at 19:41
Scarlet - I remember that edition of the Guardian! I remember being impressed they'd found my painting.
LX - I only had time for the scrum around the Dali. There's mummies and costumes and stuffed animals and all sorts in there.
Nick - It was probably in St Mungo's museum when you were there. There was a point when it was moved over there to act as a tourist magnet to the newer smaller museum. It was moved back when they finished the Kelvingrove's renovation a couple of years ago.
Trish - see what I did there? I personalised MY painting!
Ms Librarian - It's a fantastic building. Just too crowded on a SAturday I think...
14 April 2012 at 22:20
It's an amazing picture. And you are right that often more is not better.
15 April 2012 at 01:11
Agree with Librarian, any pic at the end of the corridor is totally intriguing - what an incredibly beautiful place!
15 April 2012 at 02:04
Where is this exactly? Sorry, this is my first time visiting your blog, I came from http://librarianwithsecrets.blogspot.com and due to extreme boredom, I ended up checking out different blogs from the commenters. << is that even a word. :))
http://denisewy.blogspot.com
15 April 2012 at 08:38
Stunning photo of the corridor and equally stunning painting. Shame I live several hundred miles from Glasgow!
15 April 2012 at 15:21
Love the differential focus on the corridor shot - did you take it? Superb!
As for the Dali - it DOES look a bit like an Iron Maiden Album Cover from the early 90's.
Eat your heart out, Edinburgh.
16 April 2012 at 01:57
Brought up in an Irish Catholic family, (Nobody takes That seriously), to become a teenage 'Born-Again' (THAT was my rebellion??) I currently am of 'No Religion'. But my fondness for religious music, art, and places of worship remains. Go figure, as our Yankee friends say. :¬)
xxx
16 April 2012 at 08:07
What a lovely way of alleviating the discomfort of a hospital visit. Balm for the soul.
Hope Mum is doing better.
16 April 2012 at 08:21
Jenny - Less is definitely better. Maybe the powers that be at the Kelvingrove will us enjoy the Dali in peace and quiet soon.
About Last Weekend - The Kelvingrove is a fantastic Victorian Gothic pile. Worth the trip from shortbread town Edinburgh.
Hi Denisewey - Hope I alleviated the boredom for a minute or two.... this is the Kelvingrove Gallery, West end of Glasgow.
Curry Queen - True... and no one ever goes their holidays to Glasgow...
Rog - Yep. Glasgow 1 Edinburgh Nil. (again).
And no, I didn't take the photo... I wish..
Maps - The strange thing is that the picture was painted by a surrealist/ atheist/ communist who was going through a religious phase. Religious art by the irreligious for the irreligious...?
Pat - It is a great bolt hole when I arrive early for afternoon visiting. 200 years down the line, I'm appreciating the Victorian City Fathers and their foresight.
16 April 2012 at 09:06
I limagined the background of these fantastic pictures and I thought about my mother when she was alive and cherrish. It's nice to be able to see your mother, though I would be hard to see her illness.
16 April 2012 at 20:10
Haricot - It is so hard to watch her deteriorate with no hope of getting better.
It's a twilight time.