The Tates

April 28th began with an early start and surprisingly warm weather. I arrived at Bangor Train Station to meet up with my Fine Art peers for our journey to London. Unfortunately, our original train was cancelled due to staffing issues, but we managed to catch the next one, with a change at Chester before continuing to Euston Station in London.

For some of us, it was our very first time in the capital—an exciting and unforgettable experience. After arriving, we took the Underground and made our way toward the Tate Modern.

After arriving in London and making our way to the Tate Modern, our group of Fine Art students split up to explore the gallery at our own pace. I was particularly eager to visit the fourth floor, where I knew I’d find work by Mark Bradford, an American artist whose large-scale, textured pieces I deeply admire.

I was also excited to see iconic works by Roy Lichtenstein, Andy Warhol, and Martin Kippenberger—artists whose approaches to print and graphic art resonate with my own creative practice. Their bold use of imagery, text, and media continues to inspire my exploration of print and graphic-based work.

I discovered Salvador Dalí’s Lobster Telephone. Quirky, surreal, and unmistakably Dali, it was a fun and unexpected moment from the master of surrealism that brought a smile to my face.

On the third floor, I visited the Electric Dreams exhibition—an intriguing mix of vintage computer equipment and abstract lighting installations. The blend of technology and art made for a captivating atmosphere, and I thoroughly enjoyed taking photos throughout the space.

After exploring the upper floors of the Tate Modern, I made my way down to the second floor—and I’m so glad I did. This space featured some truly iconic works by Mark Rothko and Gerhard Richter. 

Standing in front of those large, powerful canvases was a real moment of pause; the scale and emotion in the pieces pulled you in completely.

I was excited to stumble upon works by Jackson Pollock, an artist I’ve always been fascinated by. Being up close to one of his paintings was something else entirely—you could actually see the layers of paint, the energy in the splatters, and the rhythm in his drip technique. It felt raw and alive, like you were witnessing a captured moment of chaos and control.

I also found pieces by Piet Mondrian and Kazimir Malevich—artists whose work I really admire. What surprised me was how textured and imperfect the surfaces were when viewed up close. The brushstrokes weren’t as neat or precise as I’d expected. They felt human, expressive—like little glimpses into the artist’s thoughts as they worked. You start to realise these weren’t just cold, calculated compositions. There’s charm in the imperfections, and you begin to sense the personality behind the work.

The Highlight

After spending the morning exploring the upper floors of the Tate Modern, I wandered across the vast Turbine Hall to see what waited on the other side to the Blavatnik Building . There it was!  - Louise Bourgeois’ giant spider, looming in the space like something out of a dream. It was both beautiful and unsettling, with its long legs stretching high above as people casually walked beneath it. There was something powerful about the way it just stood there—still, silent, and somehow watching.

As I continued on, I stumbled into what ended up being the highlight of my trip: Anthony McCall’s Solid Light exhibition. The moment I stepped into the darkened room, I was completely taken in. Thin mist filled the air, and beams of light cut through it, forming shifting, sculptural shapes that felt like they had weight and depth. It wasn’t just something to look at—you could walk through it, interact with it. It felt almost otherworldly.

I spent a long time in there, just soaking it all in and capturing the atmosphere with my Nikon. The light, the movement, the way people quietly moved through the space—it all made for some really special photos. There was something meditative about it, like time had slowed down and everything was reduced to light and shadow.

The Tanks

I was struck by the space itself. There was something really powerful about the raw concrete, the circular layout, and the heavy industrial feel. You could still sense the building’s history, like the gallery had grown out of the bones of something much older. As someone who appreciates both art and structure, I found the architecture just as interesting as the exhibitions.

In the quiet, shadowy corners of the Tanks, I came across sculptures by Alberto Giacometti. His tall, fragile figures stood eerily in the darkness, their rough textures catching just enough light to reveal their form. It was a haunting yet beautiful moment—his work always carries a certain loneliness, and down in those echoing, dimly lit spaces, that feeling was amplified.

It felt like a hidden part of the gallery—less crowded, more intimate—and it gave me a quiet moment to reflect.

I was ready for a quick drink and lunch before meeting up with the Fine Art group outside. On my way out, I couldn’t resist popping into the Tate Modern shop and I picked up a Jean-Michel Basquiat pocketbook. It was a  small blue book full of his vibrant energy— a perfect little reminder of the day.

I made my way upstairs to the Granville-Grossman Members Bar in the Natalie Bell building for a much-needed pause. I ordered a hazy Neipa beer and a classic ham and cheese sandwich—nothing fancy, but just what I was craving. 

Sitting out on the balcony, I could see the whole London skyline laid out in front of me: St Paul’s, the Shard, the Millennium Bridge, the Sky Garden, all with the Thames flowing in front. It was one of those moments where you just stop, take a breath, and appreciate where you are.

It was the perfect way to relax after such a packed, inspiring day at the Tate Modern.

The Tate Britain

After a brief visit to the Tate Modern, we headed down to the Thames and caught a ferry to Pimlico—an enjoyable ride, made even better with a refreshing drink in hand ( it was also my wedding anniversary)  Upon arrival, we all took a short walk to the Tate Britain, a gallery I had never been to before. I was looking forward to explore it for the first time.

Tate Britain is a major art gallery in London  and it's a beautiful old building by the Thames.  Tate Britain is one of the four museums in the Tate network of art galleries in the UK

It primarily houses a significant collection of British art from the 1500s to the present day. Some highlights include works by major artists like J.M.W. Turner, William Blake, John Constable, and contemporary British figures such as David Hockney and Francis Bacon and Tracey Emin. 

It’s the kind of place where you can wander through centuries of British history and creativity, all in one visit.

Originally opened in 1897 as the National Gallery of British Art, it was later renamed Tate Britain to distinguish it from its sibling gallery, Tate Modern. It’s also home to the Turner Prize, a prestigious annual contemporary art award.

Walking into Tate Britain feels like stepping into another era—especially if you’ve just come from Tate Modern. The difference hits you right away. Instead of the raw, industrial vibe of the Modern, Tate Britain greets you with grand staircases, high ceilings, and big, open halls that feel almost palatial. There's something quiet and reflective about the space, like it’s inviting you to slow down and take your time.

It has that old-world charm—classical columns, soft light, a sense of history in the walls. You feel it in the way the paintings hang, in how sound echoes just a little differently. It's not better or worse, just completely different. If Tate Modern is bold and edgy, Tate Britain feels grounded and calm. Both are incredible in their own way, but Tate Britain reminds you that art doesn’t have to shout to leave an impression.

I really enjoyed walking around Tate Britain — there’s something special about the space itself, with its calm, classical atmosphere that makes you want to slow down and take it all in. One of the highlights for me was Dan Atkins' exhibition. I could’ve easily spent much longer there, just sitting with the work, but we were on a tight schedule.

Henry Moore’s sculptures were a real inspiration — powerful and grounding in a way that photos never quite capture. It was also a nice surprise to come across a piece by Gilbert & George, and seeing Gillian Wearing’s work in person was another standout moment.

The whole visit ended up being incredibly helpful for the module I’m working on for Helen Jones — it gave me a lot to think about and definitely added some depth to what I’ve been researching.

The photograph on the left captures a quiet moment inside Tate Britain — not an artwork, just a beautiful play of light that caught my eye. Sometimes the building itself offers unexpected surprises. Below are more images from Dan Atkins’ exhibition. 

One particularly striking moment was discovering a hidden room where eerie skeletons looked down from above, catching passersby off guard. It added an unsettling, theatrical edge to the experience. Though the visit was brief, it left a strong impression and gave me plenty to reflect on for my current module work.We rounded off the day by heading back to Euston Station. I was hungry, so I grabbed some Thai noodles from Itsu and a bottle of water before the long journey home. The train station ws busy. In our reserved seats I could have the time to reflect on the day. Visiting Tate Britain was genuinely inspiring, and I really enjoyed the experience. It wasn’t just about the art that day— it was also a great chance to get to know everyone from university a bit better. A tiring day, but definitely a memorable and meaningful one.