Amanda's Adventures Abroad Part 2

And I'm back!  And not even a day has passed since my last post.  I'm on a roll!

So, after Amsterdam, we finally made it to . . .

Berlin!

Of all the major cities we went to, Berlin is the one I could see myself settling down in.  It's not nearly as crowded as anywhere else, it's quiet, relatively cheap, has loads of great parks, tons of fantastic museums, non-confusing public transportation.  I'm not much of a city girl, but I learned to love Berlin pretty quickly.  Which was fortunate seeing as we were to be there for the next month.

I won't go day by day as that would take far too much time, be pretty boring, and also impossible since I can't remember what I did every day.

So I'll just talk about some of the places I saw and mostly about the things I learned and discovered.

My Apartment

We lived on the fourth (fifth by American floor counting systems) floor and there was no elevator.  While I enjoyed the exercise of going up and down those stairs everyday, I soon grew to resent it a little.  You see, when leaving your apartment takes that much effort it becomes a lot more difficult to dash out whenever you feel like it.  You have to sit there and think about whether going on a walk to explore your surroundings is really worth getting up and going down all those stairs for and then having to go all the way back up them when you get back.  I felt like it was stifling.  Then again, if it didn't take that much effort, I probably wouldn't have spent nearly as much time on homework than I did.  Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise.  Besides, living that high up we were able to discover the door that led to the roof of our building and watch a brilliant sunset on our last night.

Other than the whole stairs thing, I really loved our apartment.  It certainly wasn't the fanciest or the biggest, but it was quaint.  We had a gas stove you had to light with lighters (we never actually figured out the oven, though) and no dishwasher.  We also didn't have a dryer, so doing laundry was always interesting.  Luckily we had a pretty big bathroom to set up drying racks to hang our clothes on.

Buying food was also pretty interesting.  We had a great grocery store called Kaiser's just a block or so from our apartment and every Saturday there was a farmer's market down the road.  It was fun trying to figure out exactly what we were buying some times and we had some good laughs at all the authentic "American" cuisine we could find.

Since we would only be there for a month it was difficult to buy food because we couldn't stock up on anything.  My staple for the first few weeks was cheese and toast and then Ramen for the last few (Ramen is much fancier than normal in Germany, ok?).  Also, pepper became the everything spice for all my meals.  It was the only flavoring in the apartment and it wasn't really worth it to buy spices I would have to leave behind in a few weeks anyway. (I did buy Paprika for a potato salad, though).

Tiergarten

Enough about my apartment and the little things.  Let's talk about Germany and its incredible parks.  Tiergarten being a pretty prominent one.  This is one of the reasons I loved Berlin as a city so much.  Right in the middle of all the hustle and bustle you have Tiergarten.  An enormous, incredibly green park full of rabbits and mice and trees and, especially on Sundays, true European sunbathers.  A day at Teirgarten was always an adventure.  It felt a lot like New England to me with the humidity and all the vivid greens.

Every Sunday our group would have a picnic after church in Tiergarten because it was right next to our chapel.  I really enjoyed those.  For once I think we all acknowledged that we were people having fun in a foreign country, not just art students.

There were also several smaller parks all around the city.  A lot of them had permanent ping-pong tables and a few even had trampolines.  We learned that safety regulations in Europe are much different than in America.




















Museum Island

They have an entire island devoted to museums.  How cool is that!  My favorites were probably the Gemaldegalerie and the Hamburger Bahnhoff (these two museums are actually two of the few not on museum island . . . whoops.  Museum Island itself is still very cool).  The Gemaldegalerie was full of paintings that would make any art history enthusiast swoon.  Durer, Van Eyck, Rembrandt, Vermeer!  It was fantastic.  And then the Hamburger Bahnhoff was all about contemporary art which I'm starting to love more and more and become a little more familiar with.  My favorite piece from there was probably this giant installation called "Garden Sculpture".  At first, it's quite impressive, though up close there are some gross-ish details.  But still, I like it over all.  It made me think of the crazy forts I always wanted to build as a kid.

Honestly, I don't think the artist's intention was to make me think that way, but I've come to the conclusion that I don't really care a whole lot about what the artist wants me to think.  I'll think what I want and base my opinion of the piece on that.  As an artist I don't want to control what or how people think when they look at my art, I just want them to think and connect with it however they want.  I think that's why I don't like abstract art so much.  I feel like it's a little too open.  The viewer isn't quite sure what the artist is saying and they don't know what to make of it for themselves.  It could go anywhere.  I like art to have a clear beginning at least.  Something the viewer can start with and then from there take it wherever they want.

Weekend Trips

About every other weekend our professors would organize some sort of trip or event for us to go to.  One weekend we went to Sachsenhausen, a concentration camp from World War II.  That was an interesting experience.  I've heard hundreds of accounts about the grim and depressing feelings that linger in those kinds of places.  I found my experience to be much different.  The day was sunny, birds and butterflies flew all around.  Most of the bunkers had been removed, making the camp feel very open and airy, you didn't really notice the barbed wire-topped walls in the distance.  It was a little surreal.  I did, however, have a small moment of awful realization inside the morgue building where you could see the biopsy rooms and read about the terrible ways the doctors would experiment on the prisoners' bodies.  I wanted to throw up.

Moving on to more pleasant adventures.  On another weekend our professors bought us all tickets to the Botanischer Nacht, a night of live music and fireworks at the Botanical Garden.  That was fun in a very interesting way.  We wandered around for a while and discovered some very interesting events going on - some bands, a play, a lady on stilts, something to do with wine, fairies.  Also, all of this in German, so everything was just that much more interesting.  Anyway, after a while we got some food (I had some very delicious bruschetta) and decided to sit and wait for the fireworks.  For me, those were the highlight of the night.  We were all kind of bummed that we were missing the Fourth of July in America, but the firework show at the Botanischer Nacht put any other firework show I've seen to shame.  They had the fireworks synchronized to classical music which they blasted throughout the garden so you could hear it over the booms of the fireworks.  I have a little bit of video of it over on our family blog if you're interested.  It was great.

Our last weekend trip was to Park Sansouci.  Another enormous park, but this one had palaces in it.  It was here that I fell in love with ceiling decorations (and began to question the way museums are run).  My favorite ceiling, however, wasn't in any of the palaces, but in the church.

Ah, I love it so much.  I want my ceiling to look like this.

Throughout our whole trip we often talked in class about museums and the way they're set up.  I love museums, but I've always been a little frustrated with how inaccessible they seem.  Sure, you can see a cool artefact and read a little half-sentence blurb about what it's made of or you can shuffle around a palace in special slippers with security guards constantly breathing down your neck, but what do you actually get out of those experiences.  Some sore feet and a nervous disorder?  We read an article in preparation for this trip called "The Loss of the Creature" by Walker Percy (check it out, it's absolutely fantastic: Loss of the Creature).  This is one of my favorite quotes from it.

"The archaeologist who puts his find in a museum so that everyone can see it accomplishes the

reverse of his expectations. The result of his action is that no one can see it now but the archaeologist. He would have done better to keep it in his pocket and show it now and then to strangers."

I don't propose we do away with museums, but I think they take themselves too seriously.  In their effort to protect and preserve, they shut out the very people they're trying to protect and preserve these artefacts for.  In my opinion, museums need to be more hands on and fun.  In the example of these palaces I went to see, I think we should do away with the velvet ropes and security guards.  Hire an orchestra to play Bach and Beethoven, throw balls and masquerades.  Maybe allow people to get in for free if they dress as servants.  I know that's a little elaborate, but think how much more people would gain from that experience; living like someone from that time period, just for an evening.  I think it'd be fantastic.

The Studio and Art Itself

For our time in Berlin our professors rented out a studio at The Wye.  It was so exciting to be able to work there.  The space was very open with windows on both sides.  My favorite pastime was sitting in the windowsills and thinking.  And boy did I have a lot to think about.  Never in my life have I done so much thinking about one thing for so long.  I was surrounded by art and artists for the first time in my life.  It was difficult being thrown into a life that I discovered I didn't really know anything about.  It was hard - so many of these people have been in the artist culture their entire life, growing up in the galleries of their parents or cousins or uncles.  Even those who hadn't had at least been in the art program for some time already.  I had just gotten in a couple months before.  It shook me up, but I somehow managed to stay on my feet.  I learned so much in that short amount of time.  My art was both attacked and encouraged and through it all I think I discovered the direction I want to go with my career.  I also discovered the directions I did not want to go.  For one, I refuse to do purely abstract art.  Never again.  I can't connect with it and it shows.  There's just no personality in abstract art for me.  And I want my art to have personality.

First piece I completed for my Mixed-Media class.  I don't like it.  Too abstract.

 There's an interesting story behind these next two pieces.  So I really struggled with my Mixed-Media class.  My professor is very into abstract and is not a fan of "narrative".  I was getting really worried about the class, so I went to talk to him about this one assignment.  I don't remember much of the conversation, but by the end I decided to do what I wanted to do, even though I knew it didn't fit the parameters of the assignment exactly.  For once I had an idea that I was excited about and I was going to go for it.  However, self-doubt crept in at the worst moment - the night before the pieces were due.  I knew I had to finish what I had started, but I was devastated and terrified about the ensuing critique.  I wanted to die the next morning when I put these on the wall.  My class had nice things to say about them for the most part, but my professor was less impressed.  He wanted to make clear to me that illustration and art are not the same thing.  While a painful experience (and part of the reason I almost didn't pass the class), I eventually grew to be very happy with the decision I made.
 This experience sparked some passionate opinions.  I do think illustration and work that seems illustrative is art.  I think it deserves to be shown in galleries, I think it can evoke the same kinds of emotions or thoughts or feelings that any abstract piece could.  Sure there are stories connected to these pieces, but #1, the pieces aren't subservient to a narrative, you don't need to know what's going on to looks at them and #2, why should that change their value or importance anyway?

I was incredibly embarrassed that I handed these in for a while, but for once I've gotten over that sort of embarrassment.  It was daring, and while not a total success, it opened my thoughts to trying more of what I believe in and not just doing whatever my professors think is right.

My final piece (to the right) went over a little better.  I believed in it and miraculously my professor did, too.  He could tell that I was finally enjoying myself with this and he approved of the subject matter and theme (and lack of narrative).  Unfortunately it still isn't finished and the assignment was supposed to include two pieces.  Whoops.  I'm really amazed I didn't outright fail that class.  However, I learned tons and developed an immense amount as an artist.  I actually have opinions!  And passion!  (It's been a fear of mine that I'm too apathetic about the world, it was great to finally realize that I do care about something and that it happens to be the major I possibly somewhat carelessly picked.)

While my Mixed-Media class was full of frustration and dread, my New Genre class, on the other hand, was full of excitement and fun.  I thought contemporary art was kind of lame (I thought it was full of abstract snootiness), but I soon learned how wrong I've been.

I could go on and on about all I learned about installation and video art and sound pieces, but I'll refrain (for reasons which will be explained in due time).

This class helped open my mind in much more fun ways.  While the projects were difficult and caused me a lot of anxiety, I was able to produce fairly decent work, though even when I didn't, I knew I was learning and that I wasn't a failure because of it.  It was a class of experimentation.  My professor knew that not everyone was acquainted with contemporary artists and their work.  It was one of the best classes I've ever taken.  And I'm very proud of the work I did for it.

Installation: The Other Tenants

 My final for that class was a video piece called "Choosing Between Two Chairs".  It has to do with the frustration I feel when asked to make a decision.  People often mistake my inability to decide for apathy, but that's not true.  I do care about both choices, but in my mind I can't come up with which is the better of the two (or three or four or whatever).  They just look like two chairs with very similar functions.  This piece also was inspired by the choice I had to make in going on the Study Abroad.  I know it's kind of boring (please don't feel like you have to watch the whole thing) but I feel like it's one of the most honest pieces of art I've made.

And now it's time to move on from Berlin.  I miss it so much!  But next time I'll talk about Copenhagen, Brussels, and Iceland in Amanda's Adventures Abroad Part 3.