One of the greatest things about living in a city like Glasgow is the museums. I'm aware that my inner-nerd is showing, but the range of museums here is incredible. Every day, when I walk to class, I pass by Kelvingrove Art Gallery. The Hunterian is an art gallery and a museum located on Glasgow's campus itself. Another fifteen minute walk in the opposite direction is the Riverside Museum. Another fifteen minute walk is Gallery of Modern Art. I can go on, there are more. But basically, this city is loaded with art, and it's wonderful.
As of today, I have visited both Kelvingrove Art Gallery and the Hunterian (Gallery and Museum).
I won't belabor my museum adventures, as I find art to be more of subjective enjoyment rather than an objective reality. But that's from someone who doesn't have an art history degree, nor wants to study art history so I guess I can't speak intelligibly on the matter. Regardless, I was able to see Christ of Saint John of the Cross - and that is a work that I have gone back again and again to see. Salvador Dali is a master at one of my personal favorite schools of art, Surrealism.
The picture itself is inspired, according to Dali, by the center of an atom. As both an avid physicist and an artist, he believed he saw Jesus himself in the perfection of an atom. Most of his early sketches of his infamous work show the same three point focal idea - focusing on trinity shape of the atom.
Source for Image: http://en.most-famous-paintings.com/Art.nsf/O/5ZKFBV/$File/Salvador-Dali-Study-for-_Christ-of-St.-John-of-the-Cross_-1951-S.JPG - Accessed on 9 February 2017
Dali believed it was his duty to capture not the pain of Christ in his crucifixion, but his serene grace and the unifying power of God, as reflected in the basest particles of the universe. Regardless of one's religious affiliation, it is a truly remarkable work.
Another museum I was lucky enough to visit was the St. Mungo Museum of Religious Life and Art. Now, there are multiple things I like about Glasgow, but one of them is St. Mungo, and another is their interesting take on religion. Now, Scotland is primarily Christian (about 50%), and that 50% who identify as Christian, are further broken up to about a 50/50 split between Catholicism and Protestantism. In essence, half of Scotland was furious with the crown's decision in 1534 to turn to Protestantism so Henry the VIII could divorce his wife (who he later killed, so it's a bit of dark irony he even went about pissing off half of the U.K. population, but I'm no king). Anyway, there's always been religious tension between Christians in Scotland. However, Scotland, Glasgow specifically, has become a major city in immigration routes. Therefore, there is a constant influx of people into Scotland and Glasgow from all over the world. Scotland, then, decided to attempt to push aside religious intolerance and created the St. Mungo Museum of Religious Life and Art as one of their projects to unify the people of Scotland under religious tolerance. And, let me just say especially after drooling over Dali's religious art, the Christian art is terrible there. However, there was one piece that stuck out to me, and I think you all will like.
One of the primary differences between Christian (especially Catholic and Protestant art), is that Christians are constantly creating images of God. From what I understand, Islamic peoples are not allowed to represent Allah nor Muhammad in any artwork as it is disrespectful to try to represent perfection (Allah) or his prophet by imperfect peoples and in an inferior form (as in, say, a painting) then in his perfect actuality. Therefore, Muslim art turned towards geometric perfection and symmetry to show the unity and perfection of Allah symbolically rather than "literally." Likewise, Muslim art is known for decorating their pieces with passages from the Qur'an. Pictured above is such an art piece. The repeating geometrical pattern fits into a larger symmetrical pattern to reveal Allah's unity, perfection, and completeness on every level. I, unfortunately, cannot read Arabic, so I have no idea what is written on the painting, but I assume it mirrors the concepts of Allah's perfection and unity. Also, this is a fun piece to remind us all that it was the Muslim people who invented algebra and were on the forefront of scientific, mathematical, and literary development during what most Western people refer to as the Dark Ages. Take that however you'd like.
"We die. That may be the meaning of life. But we do language. That may be the measure of our lives" -- Toni Morrison.
Right next to the St. Mungo Religious Art museum was the Glasgow Cathedral and Necropolis. I went there, one Sunday afternoon that, surprisingly to Scottish weather, was quite bright and happy. In hindsight, it seems odd to spend one of my few bright and sunny days with the dead, but there I was, walking among the gravestones of those who died long before I had even been a thought to the world.
The Necropolis was formed, originally, as a symbol of wealth and power for the Victorian elites of the day. There is not a single tombstone that is smaller than about four feet, and most are massive marble structures that tower over visitors. I've never been intimidated by the dead, but it's hard not to when you actually have to look up to the remnants of them. The entirety of the Necropolis is on a hill, with the poorer of the richest Victorians buried near the foot of it, and the richest towards the top. I spent most of my time on the top of the hill where the gravestones looked more like miniature Greek temples and monuments that would normally stand for entire armies that died or for wars back home. Here, they stood for maybe a family, mostly just an individual or two.
At the very top of the hill was a massive stone statue on a pedestal. The statue was of John Knox, a leader in the protestant reformation period. The statue was 12 feet tall, and would tower over people regardless, but for good measure it was placed upon a Doric spike and base that's 58 feet tall. John Knox watched over the people of Edinburgh as their Minister in life, and in his death he is able to survey all of Glasgow and beyond. As is common in the church, the pious are turned to stone.
I walked around the Necropolis for about an hour or so, reading the names scratched onto the gravestones under the watchful eye of John Knox. There was no one I knew, nor anyone who outlived me in the Necropolis, so I decided to see the Cathedral. The Cathedral was also built in the Victorian era, and stood as a stone pinnacle to the Christian faith in Scotland. They also hold services at 4, so I decided to stop in and see if my flesh would burn off or something like that.
I walked into the stone building, and was greeted by stiff ushers with suits that seemed to constrict breathing a bit. They showed me to an aisle, and I took my seat on a rickety chair. There was to be no sermon today, and instead we were greeted with a Chorale service. The singers were incredibly talented, and sang in an operatic and solemn voice that echoed off the cold, gray stone walls of the church. I have never heard "Lord, let your joy flow through us" in more somber and serious tones. I have heard plenty of stories about those finding God's love in churches and finding joy in their songs, but I can't say I've ever felt more than a damp chill in the air or a booming acoustic promising joy everlasting. Regardless, there I was for forty minutes listening to Psalms sung in operatic tones and I can't say I didn't enjoy myself.
"Love makes the world go round? Not at all. Whisky makes it go round twice as fast" -- Compton Mackenzie.
Now, I apologize, for this is quite a long blog post. But a lot has happened (if you can't tell from above), but also I've been under a lot of pressure from outside sources. Also, I've been hesitating with this last section of the blog, the section below. But I feel as if I would do a disservice if I don't talk about the national drink of Scotland: Whisky.
*Disclaimer: I do not condone underage drinking. Please do not drink underage, and rest assured that I am both legal to drink back in the States and here in Scotland. Sorry, Mom.
Whisky, for starters, is spelled specifically without the "e" because a true "whisky" is Scottish by nature. Whisky is so culturally important here that the name itself, whisky, is owned and regulated by the Scottish government. Whisky is to be distilled using only three ingredients - malted barely, water, and yeast. Likewise, it has to be aged in an oaken cask. If it's made differently, then it is no longer "whisky" but something else (a drink that perhaps resembles more of a bourbon, sherry, or whiskey). Scottish whisky is so world renowned that, outside of Scotland, it is known as scotch. Here in Scotland, though, it's just called whisky and everything else is called a mistake.
I learned all of this when me and my flatmates went to a distillery outside the city called Glengoyne. Glengoyne is a smaller distillery that makes a single malt whisky, and a very good one at that. Whisky in Scotland is divided into 5 different regions, and each region has its own specific standard. For example, lowland whisky tends to be lighter in flavor and to reflect the "mellow countryside." While Islay whiskys tend to be much peaty-er and have a much saltier flavor as they're affected by Atlantic storms. I won't try to encapsulate all the different whiskys because not only would we very rapidly reach the bounds of my knowledge, but also there are so many specifications and various flavors, that one would actually have to research extensively to understand it all. I have tried to understand it, but I'm certainly no expert.
Regardless, back in Glengoyne, I found myself in an old wooden barn-like building that smelled sickly-sweet due to the malted barley. The tour guide was explaining to us that barely was allowed to sprout first, before it was killed and ground up to turn into a high energy malt-water mash. This mash is heated, then transferred to oaken casks where yeast is introduced to the mixture. The yeast gorges itself on the mash, while the temperature is slowly heated. After the proper amount of time goes by, the yeast is killed by the heat, and the now alcoholic mash is churned and drained. The water-alcohol-malt mixture is sent into large copper structures that boil the alcohol water and send the steam up and back down a smaller tube where the steam interacts with copper-water pipes and condenses and drips down into something similar to a whisky. The alcohol actually goes through a series of chemical reactions with the copper, giving whisky its flavor. The distillers will not know what flavors they have in their whisky until the master-distiller tells them because the copper and alcohol will react in different ways. More often than not, the alcohol is flavored with a toffee flavor, and also fruity flavors such as banana, coconut, and apple. No fruits are used during the actual distillation of the whisky, only copper and science.
From there, the whisky is placed into oaken barrels. The barrels selected also work to flavor and color the whisky. Since nothing else is used aside from the three ingredients I mentioned above, the barrels chosen are usually charred oaken casks that have had a previous occupant in them. For example, Glengoyne uses oaken casks that housed either Jim Bean Bourbon or Jack Daniels in them. The previous occupant had already soaked into the cask and the whisky will then start to interact with the other liquors in the cask itself, and the whisky will take its color from the cask and some of its flavor from the cask too. The standard whisky is aged in the cask for a minimum of 10 years, though most distilleries age for 12, and the longer the age, the better the whisky (generally). Glengoyne has a 10, 12, 15, 18, 21, and a 25 year old whisky. The longer the whisky ages, the darker it generally gets and the smoother.
This is generally what whiksy looks like. It could be darker or lighter, based upon the dram (shot of whisky) chosen. Whisky is drunk from a whisky glass (as pictured above). The glass itself is shaped as thus to let the whisky breath a bit (thus the wider midsection), and then the top is narrowed so that all the scent of the whisky is preserved. The proper way to take a dram is to swill it so that the whisky has a chance to breath, then to smell it and appreciate the distilling process, then to sip it. At minimum, two sips are necessary because the first sip attacks the taste-buds with the burn of alcohol. By the second sip, the tongue is (theoretically) prepared for the burn of alcohol and the drinker can enjoy the rich flavors of the dram. A true Scots-person would drink their whisky either straight or with a little water. An American would do the same, but we also really prefer our whisky (as we call scotch) on ice and in a scotch glass. From what I understand, this is a tad bit insulting to a Scottish-person, but what can you do?
Until next time,
Stephen Pendergast
