Life of An Art History Student

It has the word ART in huge letters on the spine so everyone will see that you’re In The Know. 

They also make great elbow rests 

LIFE OF AN ART HISTORY STUDENT Chances are you’ve been to an open-plan house with white walls, white carpet and shiny table-tops. It’s the type of place where you instantly take off your shoes, wish you’d worn nicer socks and are terrified you’ll spill something. I’d place a bet that in the living room of this Straight-out-the-White-Company-Catalogue House there is a small collection of arty books. This will either be under the coffee table or on a white shelf next to an empty vase and an ambiguously exotic lump of wood. Unless the owner of the house is particularly artistic, these books will inevitably gather dust and go unopened for years. But the point is, they are there. Art books seem to be a staple of mild intelligence, creativity and normally have cool covers that look particularly classy in minimal interiors. 

Told You. 

From a less cynical point of view, you may also want to just dip into art from time to time and not know where to start. Art criticisms, reviews and articles often have lots of ‘specialist’ vocab like ‘chiaroscuro’ and ‘postmodernism’. So this is where I step in, with this helpful Cheat Sheet. Because (nerd alert) I have in fact read art books. These are what to read (or maybe just flick through) to get your grounding in art vocab, what’s hot in the art world, and basically what we’re all banging on about the whole time. And of course, the books that will look snazzy on your beech shelving unit.

Pretty self explanatory

Art: The Definitive Visual Guide- Andrew Graham Dixon

Right let’s start with this one (full marks for the imaginative title). It covers everything from Prehistoric to Contemporary in bitesize amounts. Giving you the who’s who in art as well as highlighting themes, subjects, and methods. There’s genuinely something interesting for anyone with even a slight arty interest, with In Focus pages where the book draws subtle parts of the pieces to your attention. Aesthetically it’s white (yay, no chance of clashing with your curtains) and has the word ART in huge letters on the spine so every visitor will see that you’re In The Know. Perhaps the only downside is you won’t be able to carry it in your bag so if you’re trying to impress people on the tube, you may need to look elsewhere.

"Why is no one looking at how arty I am??" 

Why Your Five Year Old Could Not Have Done That – Susie Hodge

And now to a much more interesting title, this book focuses on modern art. This deals with how some artworks have been ridiculed in the last centuries for being an illusion of artistic skill. People will look at conceptual art like Lucio Fontana’s and exclaim ‘Oi I could have done a rip in a canvas and sold it for millions.’ Well, matey, it’s time you read this book and realised there’s a lot more to it. Susie Hodge deals with some of the more controversial pieces of modern art and pulls apart why they sell for millions and your 5 year old’s doodle of a potato does not. You don’t have to be convinced by her argument, but at least you can have more of a basis for your debate…and this one fits in your handbag.

"Sorry, Bobby, you may need to work a bit harder at that one..." 

The Story of Art- Ersnt Gombrich

Let’s step it up a tad here. This is a hardcore Art Book, no page-flicking and very few pictures, it is the size and weight of a brick. However, published in 1950, it is on every undergraduate art/history of art reading list. Yeah, it is pretty massive but Gombrich manages to cover an expansive period of art in a cohesive and understandable way. Calling it a ‘story’ is quite apt, he manages to write in a way that makes you empathise with each artist he mentions and places you right in the midst of each time period, understanding all of their issues and ambitions. It’s a good way to appreciate the arc of art, how we got from cave paintings to Van Gogh. It’s not the most contemporary view of history, but if you’re not that interested in postmodern thinking you won’t see many problems with that.

You can take this out on the tube and show everyone you mean business 

Ways of Seeing- John Berger

Another key player in art criticism and a common name on reading lists, John Berger was important in encouraging people to think differently about how we look at art. He wanted us to understand how a post card is different from the actual painting it represents, how each image we look at changes when and how we look at it. It’s pretty psychological and if you get into it, you’ll start analysing imagery all over the place. He was working at a time before social media and before a bazillion TV channels, so it’s interesting to think about how his work can be understood and taken further nowadays. His book's small and can really be read in a day or two, as it is less about the writing and more about the positioning and context of the photos he includes. If you’re not really a reader you’ll be pleased to know he started with a documentary series which can be watched for free on Youtube (although you may be put off by his startling choice of 70s shirts). 

Ways of seeing... why fashion has changed 

Magazines

Art magazines are perfect for staying up to date with the contemporary art world, what’s in and out in the big galleries and auction houses. Of course you have to be selective with which magazine you choose as they really differ on their angles. Here’s a few to think about… The Burlington Magazine is more an academic journal with articles written by some of the most prominent academics. It’s quite heavy to start with (and not a fab price for a student, I must say) but will help you get stuck in. A magazine more concerned with contemporary art is Art Review, it has lots of articles, criticisms and (obviously) art reviews. The adverts are often just as interesting as the articles as they’ll also show you what’s going on globally in the art world. And it’s got a pleasingly minimalist cover design, perfect for subtly placing on your coffee table. Aesthetica is in some ways even more arty, with lots of edgy words like ‘spatial introspection’, ‘standardisation’ and ‘syntheticism’. There isn’t that much text in this one, and has more of a focus on photography. It’s actually beautifully done, with full pages dedicated to full colour prints of art works. If you’re less into theory and more into simply really talented photographers, artists and fashion designers, this is for you. There’s loads more out there to flick through and Twitter is normally a good place to find them and sample their content before you buy.

Much edgier than my new profile picture. 

Chanel/fashion annuals

And if reading the books really isn’t your thing, but you’re still aspiring for the décor of a BeautyYoutuber’s bedroom, then fashion books are probably your best bet. Vogue and Chanel books look instantly classy and seem to always be paired with perfume bottles and orchids. They’re also good to read (obvs) but if you want to share your newly acquired knowledge, it’s probably best to do this on the FROW rather than in the Saatchi.

#HaveYouReadThoseThough

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MY FIRST TRIP TO URBAN OUTFITTERS

I consider buying a small cactus for £7.

Yes, I could be kicked out of Bristol for saying this but until today I had never shopped at the Holy Grail that is ‘Urban’.  I hadn’t realised it was a thing until Uni, when it quickly became clear that it was the Go-To for anything mesh, faux-vintage or sporty-when-you-don’t-really-do-sport.

Entering Urban Outfitters is like breaking into the wardrobe of any student. There are so many different types of fashion here, from floral chiffon to chunky FILA sweatshirts. I think anyone could see themselves buying something (if you are willing to miss meals to be able to afford it).

The main test in Urban is you cannot question the relevance of any of these things 

The photo-booth and tables of journals and neon signs and light-embellished curtain really shouldn’t work here but actually really do. I don’t know what they add to the experience of trying on ‘reworked’ adidas, but, there you go.

Just some light reading

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WHEN I CRIED IN LAKOTA

“I’ll spend my life wandering around Lakota, I’ll never leave.”

Although taken in Emily's room, this is a foreshadowing of how I looked in Lakota: terrified, possessed, and a little bit wavey. 

Let me just set the scene. We begin pre-drinking (or for any Grandparents reading this, pre-studying) at 11-ish, getting hyped for our night out to Lakota. Every few moments, Emily says ‘admit how cool my room is’ or I say ‘admit how nice this crop top is’, so there’s a lot of reassurance and admittings going around. We finally leave when our uber driver threatens to cancel on us if we don’t stop taking photos or topping up our drinks and actually just get in the car. So far, so normal.

My regular territory is the Triangle and occasionally branches out to SWX. I haven’t been to Lakota since Freshers. Unfortunately, I’d promised I’d come if they could find me a ticket around £10. Considering most of the tickets were selling for £20, I was pretty confident with my bluff. I had not taken into account Tash’s skills on Clifton and Stoke Bishop Tickets, so, alas, here I was, squished up in the back of an uber on the way to Lakota. In return, I’d been promised some edgy photos on Stokes Croft. In my defence, I don’t often get down to the artiest road in Bristol, so I though I’d take the opportunity to get some instragram-worthy graffiti shots whilst also doing shots.

I hadn’t taken into account the cold, so we end up just huddled in eachother’s jackets like penguins, braving the weather to get into the club. As soon as we get in, Ionia and I announce we’ll meet the others in the toilet. And this is where the nightmare begins. I have never encountered a women’s toilet this difficult to locate, and I’ve been to my fair share of women’s toilets in my life as a woman with a bladder. After approximately four hours (ok, maybe ten minutes) of pushing through rooms and rooms of wavey music and wavey crowds of wavey dancers, we admit defeat and end up using the portaloos in the smoking area, completely and utterly disorientated about where we are.

We attempt to call the others and describe where we are but the smoking area is potentially the size of Wales, with the population of India.  To make matters that much more wavey (eg. more of a mare), they are operating a one-way system in and out of the smoking area, making it pretty much impossible to agree a meeting point. I try begging the security to let us out through the entrance as we are entirely lost and just want to walk back the way we came, but they seem to have been trained in Callais.

Here we were at Pres: Innocent and Naive. (And yes, Em, your room is cool.) 

Later on in the night, I announce I have had enough of rubbing all my body parts against numerous strangers to move anywhere. We are back outside (as it seems all doors lead here) and Tash and I message everyone to let them know we will meet at the exit of the club. I grab Tash’s hand and march purposefully out of the smoking area through corridors and into the main dancefloor. I can see an exit sign in the distance like some mirage in a desert, and head there. I step on many a Reebok foot and elbow many an emblazoned FILA chest, I may also have two burst eardrums but it’s okay, I’m staying positive.

We finally push through a door, taking a deep breath of fresh air… only to realise this air actually isn’t so fresh. We are Back In The Smoking Area. I literally don’t know how, but Lakota’s architect must be a genius, as they have managed to create a building that, from the outside looks perfectly normal, but from the inside has doors that only lead back into the club or the Haven of Tobacco.

It is at this point that I burst into tears. Gazing at the wavey garms surrounding me, I accept that this is my new reality, these are the only people I will ever see again. I am never leaving Lakota. You know how on an amazing night out people say they’re never leaving? Well, here it could be factually true.

Some of the crew getting to grips with our New Reality: Life in the Lakota Smoking Area 

Okay, so if you’re still reading and haven’t branded me a complete psychopath, then you may have reached the conclusion that… Plot Twist: we did actually get out of Lakota. Turns out there were perhaps some doors that did lead out onto the street, but I was genuinely amazed we found them. In the Uber back (yes, we 

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HINGS I'VE LEARNT FROM MY PERSONAL TRAINER

I can’t believe I’ve been training with Abi for over a year and a half. Now I’m moving away for Uni and thought I’d think about everything I’ve learned from the hours of sweat.

When we started, I weighed 11 stone 8 lbs, was so unfit I got out of breath climbing stairs and ate chocolate for pretty much every meal. I didn’t seriously think I’d take up training and met with Abi to stop my mum nagging. Somehow, within a few months I was training twice a week, and then three times a week.

Now, I weigh 9 stone 10lbs and I don’t eat chocolate, sugar or white bread anymore. Yes, I wrote chocolate and sugar separately to convey thegravitas, because for me chocolate in all its chocolatey goodness is in a completely different category from other food.

May 2016 -- September 2016 

Anyway, here’s 8 things I’ve learned…

 1. Basically everything you thought is wrong. These are gonna need some subtitles…

a.     You have a lot more time than you think. I have really strong memories of arguing with my mum when she suggested I meet with her personal trainer. I’d just started Sixth Form and couldn’t contemplate fitting anything else into my schedule, particularly something that would make me more tired. But when I continued to train three times a week around my A2 exams this year, it showed me I really can fit it in when I need to. It helped me plan my revision far better if I knew I had training that day. So another thing I’ve gained: time management. 

b.    Your will power is stronger than you think. One of the hardest challenges (yes, harder than interval training) was sitting at a friend’s house and she’d cooked some chocolate snack. A bunch of us were watching the Game of Thrones season premiere and they were munching away. I didn’t have a bite. There aren’t many things I love more than Game of Thrones and chocolate, and somehow I managed to resist one of those (clue: the one without the gore and incest). Since then, I’ve resisted chocolate/bread/pasta cravings on countless occasions. And it isn’t just food. Having a trainer waiting for me means I do roll out of bed and get to the gym. I do complete that last rep even when I feel like my limbs have turned into bricks. Or marshmallows. Or both.

c.     You are stronger than you think. Now this one’s physically, none of that emotional stuff. When I was 13, I went to countless doctors after finding my hands went into spasm when I tried to write more than about a paragraph. I also suffered from back pain, neck pain, and migraines. They all had different things to say but it basically came down to ‘severe muscle weakness and fatigue.’ I kind of took that to mean ‘you are medically weak; there’s nothing you can do. Here’s your excuse to sit on the couch all day.’ Anyway, even though I do still suffer from spasms in my joints and occasional migraines, training has turned my severely weak muscles into stronger ones that support: squats, lifts, planks and everything else Abi throws at me.  I rarely think now that I can’t do something she sets me. I just know it’ll take a lot of work and I will end up sweaty and smelling like a sock…

Diary entry from 11th January 2015: I was so worried I wouldn't keep at it, because I've never stuck at something like this before. 

2. Exercise helps with almost everything. Small areas like my wrists still struggle with being very weak and painful occasionally, but pretty much everything else I can think of has been helped since we’ve started training, and I’ve got fitter and stronger. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realise why my body just struggles less with things than it used to. It’s also really helped with my mental state too though. Whenever I feel stressed exercising gives me at least an hour where I’m not thinking about anything other than how the hell am I going to do another rep of this!? It also helps to have a trainer I can vent to about anything as long as I’m lifting weights!

3. To be confident in the ‘Men’s Area.’ I used to –infrequently- go to the gym alone and, when I did, the heavy weight section was just completely off bounds to me. It didn’t even cross onto my radar because it was so clearly full of huge men who would crush me if I walked over. Actually, it wasn’t just this area. So many parts of the gym seem intimidating. Like parts that are too crowded. Or parts where too many good looking people are assembling. I’ll just stick to the back near the toilets, thank you. But since seeing how my trainer marches right through to the equipment she wants me to use, I’ve realised there aren’t actually any posters telling me where I can and can’t go. And yes, I still jump when the weight-lifters yell and throw their barbells, but I’m getting there…

4. Personal achievements are the best kind. Ok so some people might go for hours on a treadmill, at an incline, lifting weights. But when I started I was terrified of treadmills, getting shakes just thinking about how fast they go and how I could so easily fall off the back. Somehow a few months ago, Abi and I started getting me on one. First at a walk, and then at a jog, and now I can run on them without thinking about my impending doom. Getting on that treadmill might seem like a small victory for others but for me it really showed how far we’d come.

Pre-gym selfies are a bit of a ritual... 

5. Nothing tastes as good as skinny healthy feels. Sorry, Kate Moss, but your slogan isn’t as great as this one. I don’t agree that the goal should be skinny but I do agree that the feeling of eating chocolate doesn’t even compare with the feeling I have when a Measuring Day goes well. I obviously still get the voice in my head saying you need that Galaxy bar. You deserve it. But then I think about the new gym gear in Victoria Secret, and I would much rather deserve that.

6. Shopping for gym clothes is the best reward. Ok so I’ve already mentioned Victoria Secret and although I’m yet to actually buy something from there (erm, £50 for leggings…) trying the stuff in hope of future sales has been one of the best rewards and motivation.

River Island gym gear <3 (£18 and worth it) 

7. Speaking of rewards: food shouldn’t be one. It’s insane how society reinforces food as a reward for good behaviour or a celebration. During the first few months of me eating healthily I had my birthday, my best friends’ birthdays, end of school, end of exams… It was the start of summer and a really bazaar time not to be eating chocolate. My 18^th birthday genuinely didn’t feel that big a deal without something sugary to make me feel celebrated. It made me feel sad that kids are brought up to associate the two so strongly. So Abi and I mad

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