A sense of wplace

Wplace is my new internet toy. I first read about it as a 'digital graffiti project' in this article by It's Nice That, and learned more in this ZDNet article.

Digital graffiti is the best way to describe the site to me: a huge world map that can be drawn on, pixel by pixel. Like 'real-world' graffiti, people can add anything anywhere, adding to or drawing over existing artworks.

There are lots of wonderful examples of pixel art scattered all around the globe - some very small, which probably took a few minutes to make, and some massive, which probably took weeks to make. And then anyone can come along and paint over it [technically it is against the rules, but, from reading reddit, the site has moderation 'issues'].

To add art, you start with a tiny amount of credits, which increase every 30 seconds. Eventually, after a lot of time using the site, you would have built up a lot of these credits, compound interest style.

Here is some very nice pixel art I've come across on wplace. There are lots of flags (national, regional, pride, community), lots of pop-cultural memes, football memorabilia, political slogans, nonsense brain rot, and actually excellent art - just like graffiti and street art. (The heart above is located in Algeria.)

This lighthouse is found on one of the Chastye Islands in the Sea of Okhotsk, far in the east of Russia.

This triangular rainbow lattice, along with a bunch of random cats, is located to the north of Dundee in Scotland.

A beautiful double-portrait, with various 'tarot cards' below is in the middle of the English Channel.

The whole world itself can be found in northern Brazil. 

In Amsterdam, wplace artists have replicated Van Gogh and Vermeer, the city's houses and lots of other random stuff.

Mario (I think) and blue skies are somewhere off the coast of the north island in New Zealand.

There's a whole floating stadium in France, near the border with Switzerland.

There are lots of 'lines' on wplace - national, rainbow, pride and trans flags - connected different locations. This one, to the north of Corsica, has two cartoon figures too.

Talking Statues in London

At the weekend, I spent a day listening to London's Talking Statues.

This is a new project where a number of statues talk and tell their story to you, via your phone.

I love seeing statues, I have a pinterest board dedicated to my favourite statues. I've often looked at statues and wondered "who's that dude, why's he here?" (more often than not, it is a man).

So this project really appeals to me.

Doubly so, as it's part of a wider Digital R&D project from the Arts Council, Arts and Humanities Research Council and Nesta: essentially a way to have arts organisations think differently and try out digital tools. So: it's my day-job at the Horniman.

Over the course of the day, I visited twelve of the statues. Here are some thoughts.

• I loved it. I found it great to hear from (some of) these characters, especially the historic people. Words to describe: fascinating, illuminating, funny, heartwarming, imaginative, informative. I learned things I never knew about Queen Victoria, Rowland Hill and John Wilkes.
  

• I don't think the talking statues are designed to be seen the way I did, by visiting lots in one day. It works best as serendipity, you see a statue and then the plaque telling you to hear the statue. That said, something connecting them would be good too - a hashtag or something on the plaque to give the sense that there are more to see.
  
• For me, the talking statues worked best when the statue was a real person (or animal). The fictionalisation of artworks didn't really appeal to me. But I loved hearing from the 'real' Queen Victoria, from Brunel or Rowland Hill.
  

• The technology worked well for me. I can't use NFC tags (my phone doesn't like them) but the QR codes worked fine, as did typing in an address (I used that one most).
• The NFC tag on the plaque is a symbol and the word 'Tap'. It was fascinating watching how people interpreted that. They tapped the tag with their feet, with their fingers, but never with their phones. Some people tapped repeatedly. (It reminded me of a time I saw a woman at the Horniman literally speak a question into an iPad as it had the wording "Ask a question" [we meant 'type in']).
  
• Tech fans: the 'statues' don't actually phone you. It all connects to mobile-optimised websites which cleverly package streaming audio to look and feel like a telephone call.
  
• At several of the stops, I got into conversations with other people about the technology, about the talking statues. It was quite enjoyable sharing these little moments.
  
• Even when I was alone, my presence listening and looking at the statues encouraged other people to look at the statues that little bit more.
  

• Public artworks are quite unusual in a museum sense. They often have no interpretation whatsoever.
  
• My favourite: without doubt, Queen Victoria. Two of her statues are narrated, both by Prunella Scales. A wonderful actress playing a wonderful character.
  

---

Country and map prints

Every time I've sold my map cards and notebooks at a craft fair, someone has told me that I should make prints of them too.

So I've given it a go.

I'll be selling these below (and more) at the craft fair at Balham Bowls Club next Sunday 11 May from 12-6pm.

Come say hello!

Barbara Broekman My Town

While in Amsterdam I saw Barbara Broekman's art installation My Town at the Amsterdam Museum.

It's a long carpet with 180 panels, each one inspired by a design from the 180 nations whose citizens live in Amsterdam.

I'm all for art celebrating different countries and their cultures, so I loved it!

What's in 'S-Hertogenbosch

While in Belgium, I took a day detour to a city in the Netherlands called 'S-Hertogenbosch.

I went there on a curious whim; I love the name (which can be shortened to Den Bosch) and wanted to see what was there (just like my trips to Andorra, Gibraltar, Monaco and San Marino).

So what did I see there?

A huge cathedral, towering outside and in. The interior was particularly light, impressive and I felt it was unique.

Some delightful old shop fronts have been saved and re-purposed.

As it's in the Netherlands, there are lots of lovely canals. Some of the canals in 'S-Hertogenbosch go underground - it's possible to take tours of these (just not in November!).

A Golden Dragon

There are lots of brick buildings in Den Bosch, including the oldest brick building in the Netherlands.

Perhaps the city's greatest claim to fame is as the home of 15th century artist Hieronymus Bosch.

An art centre in the town shows copies of his many paintings: filled with chaotic, overwhelmingly detailed scenes from the Bible, and full of surreal, weird, wonderful and fantastical characters. Though I quite like the idea that Hieronymus the man was very plain, kind of dull - but when he painted, his imagination went wild.

His paintings are a joy to pore over. I took my favourites and put them in a collage.

Elephant and Castle Subway Murals

I went on a tour of the subways in Elephant and Castle last weekend, part of excellent Elefest - a festival celebrating a part of London that many usually don't celebrate.

The tour was led by David Bratby, the artist who painted the murals in the subways.

I've long loved the colourful tiles in the subways.

But I - shamefully - had never really paid attention to the murals. I should have!

They show scenes from global celebrations, like carnival in Rio de Janeiro, a Malaysian festival and from local events like a fete in Kennington Park.

Other murals show imagined scenes from local history, like an elephant being delivered to Surrey Docks, scenes from Shakespeare and scenes featuring Charlie Chaplin.

David said that he wanted the murals to be positive, to be bright and colourful in the dark underpasses. They certainty are, and in their own way, celebrate the area and its people and show it off to great effect.

Top 10 Prado Portraits

During my visit to Madrid, I paid a visit to the Prado Museum - or the National Museu del Prado to give it its full title. The museum was filled with stunning landscapes, biblical scenes and cleverly positioned classical paintings, but I was particularly partial to the many portraits on display.

Here are my 10 favourite portraits from the Prado.

Maria Isabel of Braganza was the Spanish queen whose collection founded the basis of the Prado museum. Queen Maria Isabel had a great affection for art, but something suggests artists didn't have the same affection for her as she's been painted in a rather unflattering, miserable pose.

Maria Amalia of Saxony has a rather fabulous red frock.




This painting of Saint Dominic is lavish, with gold decoration throughout and even extending out of the picture - the frame was topped with gold Gothic cathedral spires.

This portrait of a rich, young boy seems to tell you all you need to know about the man this child will grow up to become.

This painting is of a small girl, Eugenia Martinex Vallejo. She was very over-weight and perhaps even disabled. Aged 6, she was taken to the Spanish court to be put on display, pointed at, and stared at. The poor child! Hanging near this painting is a nude portrait of the girl, which makes her seem all the more poignant.

This portrait cleverly (and a little spookily) shows the artist and his family.

On a list of favourite queens, Maria Luisa must rank high. She looks like a game lass, perched high on her horse, always up for a bit of craic.

Speaking of horses, here's the Duke of Lerma in a powerful pose and portrait. Although this really is a much better portrait of his horse, a glamorous beast.

Here's Maria Theresa, formidable Queen of Hungary and Croatia, Archduchess of Austria, Queen of Bohemia and Empress consort of the Holy Roman Empire. But this portrait shows her as a little girl, a very different image of her than we have today.

And, finally, Maria Cristina of the Two Sicilies, bearer not only of a fantastic name but also a rather fabulous hat.



There are thousands more paintings and artworks in the Prado Museum, many of which can be explored on their website.

Charity paintings

Ages ago (before I started working there), I did a painting course at the Horniman Museum.

At the end of each class, there was usually some paint left over on our makeshift palettes (cereal packets). I hate to throw unused things away, so I would get this paint and smear it on to paper in the hope it would make interesting patterns and pictures.

And then I held on to these "paintings" for years...

A few months ago, I was giving some small picture frames to a charity shop, and thought how much nicer they'd look with images inside them.

So I dug out the paint-splash-paintings, added some circles, and put them in the frames. Here they are...

I wonder who bought them, and what they make of them...