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Happy Face
Dec. 2nd, 2008 04:01 amThere was a function on at the new National Portrait Gallery. A year under construction, the building is finally complete, site office and construction clutter cleared away, landscaping in, and signs up.
A lady waiting outside. I pulled in, admiring the floodlit exterior. First time I've seen it lit up at night. Other than as a construction site, that is.
It's a handsome building. Post brutalist, maybe. Or New Age concrete. Not sure how you'd describe it, but it's a looker.
The lady got in, named a suburb in Woden, guided me on my first circuit of the access area across the forecourt of the High Court, and asked, "Have you seen the Smiley Face?"
She pointed off out my window, and I glanced that way, wondering what she was talking about. A sign? Graffiti? Some new piece of public artwork?
But no. It was a happy conjunction of moon and planets creating a smiling face, a happy omen for the opening of a building chiefly devoted to faces.
Later on, at the airport, I stopped and snapped the face of God, pointing it out to other drivers, my passengers, anybody who looked like they needed a smile.
A lady waiting outside. I pulled in, admiring the floodlit exterior. First time I've seen it lit up at night. Other than as a construction site, that is.
It's a handsome building. Post brutalist, maybe. Or New Age concrete. Not sure how you'd describe it, but it's a looker.
The lady got in, named a suburb in Woden, guided me on my first circuit of the access area across the forecourt of the High Court, and asked, "Have you seen the Smiley Face?"
She pointed off out my window, and I glanced that way, wondering what she was talking about. A sign? Graffiti? Some new piece of public artwork?
But no. It was a happy conjunction of moon and planets creating a smiling face, a happy omen for the opening of a building chiefly devoted to faces.
Later on, at the airport, I stopped and snapped the face of God, pointing it out to other drivers, my passengers, anybody who looked like they needed a smile.
