I'm going to tell you about an affliction I suffer from. And I have a funny feeling that quite a few of you suffer from it as well. When I'm walking around an art gallery, rooms and rooms full of paintings, after about 15 or 20 minutes, I realize I'm not thinking about the paintings. I'm not connecting to them. Instead, I'm thinking about that cup of coffee I desperately need to wake me up. I'm suffering from gallery fatigue.
Pričat ću vam o jednoj bolesti od koje patim. I imam čudan predosjećaj da mnogi od vas također boluju od nje. Kada hodam po umjetničkoj galeriji, mnogobrojnim prostorijama punima slika, nakon nekih 15 ili 20 minuta, primijetim da ne razmišljam o slikama. Ne povezujem se s njima. Umjesto toga, razmišljam o šalici kave koju očajnički trebam da bih se razbudila. Patim od zamorenosti galerijom.
How many of you out there suffer from -- yes. Ha ha, ha ha! Now, sometimes you might last longer than 20 minutes, or even shorter, but I think we all suffer from it. And do you have the accompanying guilt? For me, I look at the paintings on the wall and I think, somebody has decided to put them there, thinks they're good enough to be on that wall, but I don't always see it. In fact, most of the time I don't see it.
Koliko vas pati od - da. Ha ha, ha ha! Nekada ćete izdržati dulje od 20 minuta, ili čak i kraće, ali misliim da svi bolujemo od toga. A imate li i popratnu krivnju? Gledam slike na zidu i mislim kako je netko odlučio staviti ih ondje, kako misli da su dovoljno dobre da bi bile na tom zidu, ali ja to ne vidim uvijek. U biti, većinom to ne vidim.
And I leave feeling actually unhappy. I feel guilty and unhappy with myself, rather than thinking there's something wrong with the painting, I think there's something wrong with me. And that's not a good experience, to leave a gallery like that.
I otiđem zapravo nesretna. Osjećam se krivom i nesretnom, i umjesto da mislim da nešto nije u redu sa slikom, mislim da nešto nije u redu sa mnom. Nije lijepo iskustvo tako otići iz galerije.
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
The thing is, I think we should give ourselves a break. If you think about going into a restaurant, when you look at the menu, are you expected to order every single thing on the menu? No! You select. If you go into a department store to buy a shirt, are you going to try on every single shirt and want every single shirt? Of course not, you can be selective. It's expected. How come, then, it's not so expected to be selective when we go to an art gallery? Why are we supposed to have a connection with every single painting?
Stvar je u tome da mislim kako ne bismo trebali biti toliko samokritični. Razmislite o odlasku u restoran. Kada gledate jelovnik, očekuje li se od vas da naručite baš svako jelo na njemu? Ne! Vi birate. Ako odete u trgovački centar kupiti majicu, hoćete li isprobati svaku majicu i htjeti svaku majicu? Naravno da ne, možete birati. To se očekuje. Zašto se onda ne očekuje da biramo kada idemo u galeriju? Zašto se očekuje od nas da se povežemo s baš svakom slikom?
Well I'm trying to take a different approach. And there's two things I do: When I go into a gallery, first of all, I go quite fast, and I look at everything, and I pinpoint the ones that make me slow down for some reason or other. I don't even know why they make me slow down, but something pulls me like a magnet and then I ignore all the others, and I just go to that painting. So it's the first thing I do is, I do my own curation. I choose a painting. It might just be one painting in 50. And then the second thing I do is I stand in front of that painting, and I tell myself a story about it.
Ja pokušavam pristupiti na drugi način. I radim dvije stvari: Kada idem u galeriju, kao prvo, hodam dosta brzo, gledam sve i usmjerim pažnju na one zbog kojih usporim iz ovog ili onog razloga. Ni ne znam zašto zbog njih usporim, ali nešto me privuče poput magneta i tada ignoriram sve druge i samo odem do te slike. Dakle, kao prvo, vlastiti sam kustos. Odaberem sliku. Može to biti samo jedna slika od njih 50. Kao drugo, stojim ispred te slike i pričam si priču o njoj.
Why a story? Well, I think that we are wired, our DNA tells us to tell stories. We tell stories all the time about everything, and I think we do it because the world is kind of a crazy, chaotic place, and sometimes stories, we're trying to make sense of the world a little bit, trying to bring some order to it. Why not apply that to our looking at paintings? So I now have this sort of restaurant menu visiting of art galleries.
Zašto priču? Pa, mislim da smo za to stvoreni, naša DNK nam govori da pričamo priče. Stalno pričamo priče o svačemu i mislim da to činimo zato što je svijet pomalo ludo, kaotično mjesto, a ponekad pričama pokušavamo shvatiti svijet, pokušavamo u njega unijeti neki red. Zašto to ne bismo primijenili na naše gledanje slika? Tako da sada posjetu galeriji pristupam kao naručivanju iz jelovnika u restoranu.
There are three paintings I'm going to show you now that are paintings that made me stop in my tracks and want to tell stories about them. The first one needs little introduction -- "Girl with a Pearl Earring" by Johannes Vermeer, 17th-century Dutch painter. This is the most glorious painting. I first saw it when I was 19, and I immediately went out and got a poster of it, and in fact I still have that poster. 30 years later it's hanging in my house. It's accompanied me everywhere I've gone, I never tire of looking at her.
Sada ću vam pokazati tri slike koje su me toliko iznenadile da sam stala i htjela ispričati priče o njima. Prvu ne trebam posebno predstavljati - "Djevojka s bisernom naušnicom" Johannesa Vermeera, nizozemskog slikara iz 17. stoljeća. To je jedna sjajna slika. Prvi put sam je vidjela s 19 godina i odmah kupila njezin poster i još uvijek imam taj poster. I 30 godina kasnije on visi u mojoj kući. Pratio me svugdje kamo sam išla. Nikada mi ne dosadi gledati je.
What made me stop in my tracks about her to begin with was just the gorgeous colors he uses and the light falling on her face. But I think what's kept me still coming back year after year is another thing, and that is the look on her face, the conflicted look on her face. I can't tell if she's happy or sad, and I change my mind all the time. So that keeps me coming back.
Ono što me kao prvo iznenadilo kod nje jednostavno su bile prekrasne boje koje koristi i svjetlost koje pada na njeno lice. Ali mislim da je ono zbog čega sam se vraćala godinu za godinom nešto drugo, a to je izraz njenog lica, izraz emocionalnog konflikta na njenom licu. Ne znam je li sretna ili tužna, stalno se predomišljam. Zbog toga se vraćam.
One day, 16 years after I had this poster on my wall, I lay in bed and looked at her, and I suddenly thought, I wonder what the painter did to her to make her look like that. And it was the first time I'd ever thought that the expression on her face is actually reflecting how she feels about him. Always before I'd thought of it as a portrait of a girl. Now I began to think of it as a portrait of a relationship. And I thought, well, what is that relationship?
Jednog dana, kada sam već 16 godina imala taj poster na svom zidu, ležala sam u krevetu i pogledala je i najednom pomislila: Pitam se što joj je slikar učinio da izgleda tako? I to je bio prvi put da sam razmišljala o tome kako izraz njenog lica zapravo odražava njezine osjećaje prema njemu. Prije sam o toj slici razmišljala kao o portretu djevojke. Sada sam je počela vidjeti kao portret odnosa. I pomislila sam: Kakav je to odnos?
So I went to find out. I did some research and discovered, we have no idea who she is. In fact, we don't know who any of the models in any of Vermeer's paintings are, and we know very little about Vermeer himself. Which made me go, "Yippee!" I can do whatever I want, I can come up with whatever story I want to.
Pa sam išla otkriti. Malo sam istraživala i otkrila da nemamo pojma tko je ona. U biti, ne znamo identitet niti jednog modela s Vermeerovih slika, a malo znamo i o Vermeeru samom. Zbog čega sam uzviknula: "Jupi!". Mogu raditi što god želim, mogu izmisliti kakvu god priču želim.
So here's how I came up with the story. First of all, I thought, I've got to get her into the house. How does Vermeer know her? Well, there've been suggestions that she is his 12-year-old daughter. The daughter at the time was 12 when he painted the painting. And I thought, no, it's a very intimate look, but it's not a look a daughter gives her father. For one thing, in Dutch painting of the time, if a woman's mouth was open, it was indicating sexual availability. It would have been inappropriate for Vermeer to paint his daughter like that.
Evo kako sam smislila priču. Pomislila sam da je najprije moram dovesti u kuću. Kako je Vermeer poznaje? Pa, bilo je nagađanja da je to njegova 12-ogodišnja kći. Kći je imala 12 godina kad je naslikao tu sliku. Ali ja sam mislila da nije, to je bio intiman pogled, ali ne onakav kakav bi kći uputila svom ocu. Kao prvo, u nizozemskom slikarstvu tog doba, otvorena usta kod žene su označavala seksualnu dostupnost. Bilo bi neprimjereno da Vermeer naslika svoju kćer na taj način.
So it's not his daughter, but it's somebody close to him, physically close to him. Well, who else would be in the house? A servant, a lovely servant. So, she's in the house. How do we get her into the studio? We don't know very much about Vermeer, but the little bits that we do know, one thing we know is that he married a Catholic woman, they lived with her mother in a house where he had his own room where he -- his studio. He also had 11 children. It would have been a chaotic, noisy household. And if you've seen Vermeer's paintings before, you know that they're incredibly calm and quiet.
Dakle, to nije njegova kći, ali jest netko blizak njemu, fizički blizak. Tko bi još bio u kući? Služavka, dražesna služavka. Dakle, ona je u kući. Kako da je dovedemo u atelje? Ne znamo mnogo o Vermeeru, ali ono malo što znamo, jedna stvar koju znamo jest da se vjenčao katolkinjom, da su živjeli s njenom majkom u kući u kojoj je imao vlastitu sobu, svoj atelje. Također, imao je 11-ero djece. Bilo bi to kaotično, bučno domaćinstvo. A ako ste prije vidjeli Vermeerove slike, znate da su nevjerojatno mirne i tihe.
How does a painter paint such calm, quiet paintings with 11 kids around? Well, he compartmentalizes his life. He gets to his studio, and he says, "Nobody comes in here. Not the wife, not the kids. Okay, the maid can come in and clean." She's in the studio. He's got her in the studio, they're together. And he decides to paint her.
Kako slikar može naslikati tako mirne, tihe slike uz 11-ero djece? Pa, podijelio je svoj život. Uđe u svoj atelje i kaže: "Nitko ne smije ulaziti ovdje. Niti žena, niti djeca. U redu, služavka može ući i čistiti." Ona je u ateljeu. Doveo ju je u atelje, zajedno su. Odluči je naslikati.
He has her wear very plain clothes. Now, all of the women, or most of the women in Vermeer's other paintings wore velvet, silk, fur, very sumptuous materials. This is very plain; the only thing that isn't plain is her pearl earring. Now, if she's a servant, there is no way she could afford a pair of pearl earrings. So those are not her pearl earrings. Whose are they? We happen to know, there's a list of Catharina, the wife's clothes. Amongst them a yellow coat with white fur, a yellow and black bodice, and you see these clothes on lots of other paintings, different women in the paintings, Vermeer's paintings. So clearly, her clothes were lent to various different women. It's not such a leap of faith to take that that pearl earring actually belongs to his wife.
Obuče je u običnu odjeću. Sve žene ili većina žena na Vermeerovim drugim slikama nosila je baršun, svilu, krzno, vrlo skupocjene materijale. Ovo je vrlo obično; jedino što nije obično jest njezina biserna naušnica. Ali, ako je služavka, nikako si nije mogla priuštiti par bisernih naušnica. Dakle, to nisu njezine biserne naušnice. Čije su? Postoji Catharinin popis, ženin popis odjeće. Među njoj žuti kaput s bijelim krznom, žuto-crni steznik, a možete vidjeti tu odjeću na mnogim drugim slikama, na drugim ženama na Vermeerovim slikama. Očito da je njena odjeća posuđena mnogim drugim ženama. Nije teško povjerovati da ta biserna naušnica zapravo pripada njegovoj ženi.
So we've got all the elements for our story. She's in the studio with him for a long time. These paintings took a long time to make. They would have spent the time alone, all that time. She's wearing his wife's pearl earring. She's gorgeous. She obviously loves him. She's conflicted. And does the wife know? Maybe not. And if she doesn't, well -- that's the story.
Tako imamo sve dijelove za našu priču. Mnogo vremena je provela s njim u ateljeu. Dugo je trebalo da se naprave te slike. Svo to vrijeme bili bi sami. Nosi bisernu naušnicu njegove žene. Prekrasna je. Očito je da ga voli. U emocionalnom je konfliktu. A zna li žena? Možda ne zna. A ako ne zna, pa - to je priča.
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
The next painting I'm going to talk about is called "Boy Building a House of Cards" by Chardin. He's an 18th-century French painter best known for his still lifes, but he did occasionally paint people. And in fact, he painted four versions of this painting, different boys building houses of cards, all concentrated. I like this version the best, because some of the boys are older and some are younger, and to me, this one, like Goldilocks's porridge, is just right.
Sljedeća slika o kojoj ću govoriti zove se "Kula od karata" koju je naslikao Chardin. On je francuski slikar iz 18. stoljeća najpoznatiji po svojim slikama mrtve prirode, ali povremeno je slikao ljude. U biti, naslikao je četiri verzije ove slike, različite dječake kako grade kule od karata, svi koncentrirani. Ova verzija mi se najviše sviđa, zato što su neki dječaci stariji, neki mlađi, a za mene je ovaj baš kako treba, poput Zlatokosine ječmene kaše.
He's not quite a child, and he's not quite a man. He's absolutely balanced between innocence and experience, and that made me stop in my tracks in front of this painting. And I looked at his face. It's like a Vermeer painting a bit. The light comes in from the left, his face is bathed in this glowing light. It's right in the center of the painting, and you look at it, and I found that when I was looking at it, I was standing there going, "Look at me. Please look at me." And he didn't look at me. He was still looking at his cards, and that's one of the seductive elements of this painting is, he's so focused on what he's doing that he doesn't look at us. And that is, to me, the sign of a masterpiece, of a painting when there's a lack of resolution. He's never going to look at me.
Nije više ni dijete, ali još nije ni muškarac. U potpunoj je ravnoteži između nevinosti i iskustva i to me iznenadilo i zaustavilo pred ovom slikom. Pogledala sam njegovo lice. To je pomalo kao Vermeerova slika. Svjetlost dolazi s lijeva, njegovo lice je okupano u toj sjajnoj svjetlosti. Točno je u središtu slike, i pogledate je, a dok sam stajala ondje i gledala je shvatila sam da sam mislila: "Pogledaj me. Molim te, pogledaj me." Ali nije me pogledao. Još uvijek je gledao u svoje karte, i to je jedan od zavodljivih elemenata ove slike - tako je usredotočen na to što radi da nas ne gleda. A to je, za mene, znak remek-djela, znak slike kada nedostaje razlučivosti. Nikada me neće pogledati.
So I was thinking of a story where, if I'm in this position, who could be there looking at him? Not the painter, I don't want to think about the painter. I'm thinking of an older version of himself. He's a man, a servant, an older servant looking at this younger servant, saying, "Look at me. I want to warn you about what you're about to go through. Please look at me." And he never does.
Razmišljala sam o priči u kojoj, ako sam ja u ovom položaju, tko bi ga ondje mogao gledati? Ne slikar, o slikaru ne želim razmišljati. Mislim na stariju verziju njega samog. On je muškarac, sluga, stariji sluga koji gleda tog mlađeg slugu, govoreći: "Pogledaj me. Želim te upozoriti na ono što ćeš upravo proživjeti. Molim te, pogledaj me." Ali on to nikada ne učini.
And that lack of resolution, the lack of resolution in "Girl with a Pearl Earring" -- we don't know if she's happy or sad. I've written an entire novel about her, and I still don't know if she's happy or sad. Again and again, back to the painting, looking for the answer, looking for the story to fill in that gap. And we may make a story, and it satisfies us momentarily, but not really, and we come back again and again.
A taj nedostatak razlučivosti, nedostatak razlučivosti u "Djevojci s bisernom naušnicom" - ne znamo je li sretna ili tužna. Napisala sam cijeli roman o njoj, a još ne znam je li sretna ili tužna. Opet i iznova, vraćam se na sliku, tražim odgovor, tražim priču koja bi popunila prazninu. I možemo smisliti priču i ona nas trenutno zadovolji, ali ne zbilja, i vraćamo se opet i iznova.
The last painting I'm going to talk about is called "Anonymous" by anonymous. (Laughter)
Posljednja slika o kojoj ću govoriti zove se "Anonimni" od anonimnog. (Smijeh)
This is a Tudor portrait bought by the National Portrait Gallery. They thought it was a man named Sir Thomas Overbury, and then they discovered that it wasn't him, and they have no idea who it is.
To je tudorski portret koji je kupila National Portrait Gallery. Mislili su da je to muškarac koji se zove Sir Thomas Overbury, a onda su otkrili da to nije on i nemaju pojma tko jest.
Now, in the National Portrait Gallery, if you don't know the biography of the painting, it's kind of useless to you. They can't hang it on the wall, because they don't know who he is. So unfortunately, this orphan spends most of his time in storage, along with quite a number of other orphans, some of them some beautiful paintings.
U National Portrait Gallery, ako ne znate biografiju slike nekako vam je beskorisna. Ne mogu je objesiti na zid jer ne znaju tko je on. Tako, nažalost, ovaj sirotan provodi većinu svog vremena u skladištu, zajedno s popriličnim brojem drugih sirotana, a neke od njih su prelijepe slike.
This painting made me stop in my tracks for three reasons: One is the disconnection between his mouth that's smiling and his eyes that are wistful. He's not happy, and why isn't he happy? The second thing that really attracted me were his bright red cheeks. He is blushing. He's blushing for his portrait being made! This must be a guy who blushes all the time. What is he thinking about that's making him blush? The third thing that made me stop in my tracks is his absolutely gorgeous doublet. Silk, gray, those beautiful buttons. And you know what it makes me think of, is it's sort of snug and puffy; it's like a duvet spread over a bed.
Ova slika me iznenadila i zaustavila iz tri razloga. Prvi je nepovezanost između njegovih usta koja se smiješe i njegovih očiju koje su sjetne. Nije sretan, a zašto nije sretan? Drugo što me zbilja privuklo bili su njegovi rumeni obrazi. Rumeni se. Rumeni se zato što rade njegov portret! To mora da je tip koji se stalno rumeni. O čemu razmišlja da se rumeni? Treća stvar koja me zaustavila jest njegov predivan doublet. Svila, siva boja, ti prekrasni gumbi. I znate na što me podsjeća, nekako je udoban i napuhnut, poput popluna prostrtog po krevetu.
I kept thinking of beds and red cheeks, and of course I kept thinking of sex when I looked at him, and I thought, is that what he's thinking about? And I thought, if I'm going to make a story, what's the last thing I'm going to put in there? Well, what would a Tudor gentleman be preoccupied with? And I thought, well, Henry VIII, okay. He'd be preoccupied with his inheritance, with his heir. Who is going to inherit his name and his fortune? You put all those together, and you've got your story to fill in that gap that makes you keep coming back. Now, here's the story. It's short.
Nastavila sam razmišljati o krevetima i obrazima, i naravno o seksu kada sam ga gledala, i pomislila je li to ono o čemu on razmišlja? I pomislila sam, ako ću smisliti priču, koja je zadnja stvar koju bih ondje stavila? Pa, čime bi tudorski džentlmen bio zaokupljen? Pomislila sam, Henrik VIII, u redu. Bio bi zaokupljen svojim nasljedstvom, svojim nasljednikom. Tko će naslijediti njegovo ime i njegovo bogatstvo? Stavite sve to skupa i imate priču koja će popuniti tu prazninu zbog koje se vraćate. Evo priče. Kratka je.
"Rosy"
"Rumenko"
I am still wearing the white brocade doublet Caroline gave me. It has a plain high collar, detachable sleeves and intricate buttons of twisted silk thread, set close together so that the fit is snug. The doublet makes me think of a coverlet on the vast bed. Perhaps that was the intention. I first wore it at an elaborate dinner her parents held in our honor. I knew even before I stood up to speak that my cheeks were inflamed. I have always flushed easily, from physical exertion, from wine, from high emotion.
Još nosim bijeli brokatni doublet koji mi je Caroline dala. Ima obični visoki ovratnik, rukave koji se skidaju i gumbe od zamršene svilene niti, postavljene skupa tako da bude uzak. Doublet me podsjeća na pokrivač na velikom krevetu. Možda je to i bila namjera. Prvi put sam ga nosio na svečanoj večeri koju su njezini roditelji održali u našu čast. I prije no što sam ustao kako bih govorio znao sam da su mi obrazi upaljeni. Uvijek sam se lako zarumenio, od fizičkog napora, od vina, od jakih emocija.
As a boy, I was teased by my sisters and by schoolboys, but not by George. Only George could call me Rosy. I would not allow anyone else. He managed to make the word tender. When I made the announcement, George did not turn rosy, but went pale as my doublet. He should not have been surprised. It has been a common assumption that I would one day marry his cousin. But it is difficult to hear the words aloud. I know, I could barely utter them.
Kao dječaka, moja sestra i dječaci iz škole su me zadirkivali, ali ne i George. Samo me George smio zvati Rumenko. Nikom drugom to nisam dopuštao. Uspijevao je svijet učiniti ljepšim. Kada sam objavio, George se nije zarumenio, već je problijedio poput mog doubleta. Nije se trebao iznenaditi. Dalo se pretpostaviti da ću se jednog dana oženiti njegovom rođakinjom. Ali teško je čuti te riječi naglas. Znam, jedva sam ih izgovorio.
Afterwards, I found George on the terrace overlooking the kitchen garden. Despite drinking steadily all afternoon, he was still pale. We stood together and watched the maids cut lettuces. "What do you think of my doublet?" I asked.
Kasnije sam pronašao Georgea na terasi koja je gledala na povrtnjak. Iako je cijelo popodne pio, još uvijek je bio blijed. Zajedno smo stajali i gledali služavke kako režu zelenu salatu. "Kako ti se čini moj doublet?", pitao sam ga.
He glanced at me. "That collar looks to be strangling you."
Letimično me pogledao. "Taj ovratnik izgleda kao da te davi."
"We will still see each other," I insisted. "We can still hunt and play cards and attend court. Nothing need change." George did not speak. "I am 23 years old. It is time for me to marry and produce an heir. It is expected of me."
"Još uvijek ćemo se viđati", inzistirao sam. "Još uvijek možemo ići u lov i kartati se i ići na dvor. Ništa se ne mora promijeniti." George nije progovarao. "Imam 23 godine. Vrijeme je da se oženim i dobijem nasljednika. To se očekuje od mene."
George drained another glass of claret and turned to me. "Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials, James. I'm sure you'll be content together." He never used my nickname again.
George je iscijedio još jednu čašu vina i okrenuo se prema meni. "Čestitke na skorom vjenčanju, James. Siguran sam da ćete biti sretni zajedno." Više nikad me nije nazvao nadimkom.
Thank you.
Hvala.
(Applause)
(Pljesak)
Thank you.
Hvala.
(Applause)
(Pljesak)