The Rape of Angels

Angels of Anarchy,
Manchester city art gallery.



Take the artwork out of it’s environment and it
will take on an entirely new meaning, so Berger
points out, a fair a valid point that is more
consistent with today than his more dated very ‘male’
viewpoints of the 1970’s..
(just happens to be what I’m reading having received
the book for Christmas)
(you understand that I don’t attack his ‘viewers’
concept of the ‘women’ in art as an object to be
perceived; it is more his isolations of a possible
‘female’ viewer of the work in question)



I wonder what Francesca Woodman would make of this?
Object of art to be viewed only by ‘men’ as viewers?
Does she show herself, ‘not naked as she is’ but
‘naked as the spectator sees her’ ?
Is she an object of ‘male’ desire?

The exhibition which contained many of her photographs
and an amazing video compilation which I have never
seen before; simply mesmerising to look into her eyes
as she stares back into the camera.. to see her breath..
(their is also even more rare footage of Frida Kahlo
in a recovered part of a test shoot for a never to be
made film (she died shortly after it was shot))

The environment & setting; on the day of attending the
exhibition; the weather had delivered 100 years of snow
overnight, rendering most of the country unable to come
to terms with what snow actually is..
(this time next year the entire country will have again
forgotten & be ‘surprised’ all over again.. snow??)

The gallery itself was open and running a skeleton
crew of security & I didn’t think they would have let me
in, one of the gallery staff radio’d ahead..
“yeah, that’s fine, you can go in..”

I had the exhibition nearly all to myself whilst the world
killed itself outside..
(I also didn’t have to pay the admittance charge for the
exhibition as the person responsible for operating the
till hadn’t made it in.. nobody else could figure it out..)

A great day, free entry to a fantastic exhibition which I had
almost entirely to myself whilst everyone else seemed to
be pre-occupied with moaning about what the weather had
done...

My only gripe being I didn’t get snowed in the Gallery and
had to spend the night there..
..sleeping with the angels..

My male moral standing momentarily lying down.

Thanks weather.