For starters, I walked about a mile and a half through probably the sketchiest part of London we had been in just to get to this place. There was three of us, all girls, only one with cell service and it wasn’t working, and all of our feet felt like they were going to fall off. We were basically jogging through the streets, relying on Google Maps, and hoping there was only one Migration Museum in London. It’s my favorite story to tell.
We got there early, which meant that I took a nap on a couch in the cafe. It also meant that we had time to talk to the kind lady running the cafe. She informed us that there was a an exhibit at three, the time we were meant to meet our professors at the museum. Given that it was an odd time during a day that we had nothing else scheduled (the students found their own things to do, we didn’t waste this time), we assumed that the professors must have known about this exhibit. They did not.
As we were unable to pass through the entire museum as it was eight connected rooms and the exhibit was in the middle of it, the class was stuck within the first two rooms. Well, most of the class that is.
Sal, Ericka, and I were… lucky enough to be the ones who snagged the three empty seats before the perfomance started.
Do you know how people always mock artsy people in other forms of media? That whole concept of lofty thinking with very little actually going on? I have never experienced it before. As a college student who has to conflicting majors, most people don’t look down on me. These people definitely did. As for the exhibit itself, it was right out of a sitcom.
The idea was that we all sat around wearing headphones and two people would be up front at a time moving their hands for a camera that projects onto the wall, which is divided into two colors. We had to wear headphones because there was musicians in the back that were composing music to fit the movements of our hands.
It was awkward.
For starters, the music remained yoga music even when people tried to make it short and choppy. Then the people expected you to be willing to touch their hands, which is how you knew who us American’s were. And finally, when asked what the whole thing was meant to be, the artist only responded with “well, what do you think?”
In the words of Sal, “that was fucking stupid.”
The museum was pretty unique though, in case you were wondering. Make sure you double check the directions before you get off the tube though.