10-20 Culture, a la Brighton

Woke up to a beautiful day with the weather guessers (as I like to call meteorologists) predicting only a small chance of rain, so off we went to the Brighton Museum and Art Gallery. What an interesting, but odd, place. The collections are many and varied. As you enter, there’s a collection of metalwork from the 20th century, spanning decades I was drawn to a glorious art nouveau bowl, Bruce loved a cocktail shaker.

In the same gallery was furniture. It was all very interesting, but somehow didn’t hang together. I don’t know if my assessment is based on the fact that I’ve spent a lot of time in the furniture gallery of the V&A in London or if it was just really odd. The gallery to the right featured ceramics, specifically ceramics collected by a Brighton resident, Henry Willett. His collection traces the history of the British people through the everyday items found in their homes. Again, such an eclectic collection. Fine china to political and royal memorabilia to crude pottery. This was my favorite piece.

Then there was an archaeology Gallery, a gallery of ancient Egypt, a gallery dedicated to performance, from parades to Asian shadow puppeteering, a gallery of fashion and style, a gallery called “World Stories” looking at histories, faith and traditions as seen through the eyes of young people, and a gallery of images of Brighton.

There were several special exhibits. One, about Faberge, contained 5 small items. The featured exhibit was called, “Lee Miller: Dressed”. It featured photos of Lee from her modelling days, photos by her from her days working for Vogue, her art photography, some in collaboration with Man Ray, photos of her time as a war correspondent, photos from her later life, and some her clothes which were discovered after her death. It was interesting but, I think, mistitled.

Fell in love with some plates in the gift shop, but ceramics are not the most practical thing to try to pack in a suitcase.

Ultimately this museum struck me as a collection of cool things donated by people clearing out the attics of their well-to-do relatives. Does that make me a philistine?

I went back to a shop I’d found earlier in the week for a bit of retail therapy, then we headed home. On the way I collected shop names that amused me.

I did a bit of housework. I tried to vacuum, but the vacuum was squealing like a pig, so I gave up. With Bruce out pub crawling, I indulged in something I rarely do. I had a long soak in the tub. There’s something so decadent about that to me. All that was missing was a glass of white wine. Next time.

Spent a quiet evening in. As usual.