Hand Dryers as Art: the Sainsbury Centre

The Sainsbury Centre for Visual Arts is a great collection of sculptures and visual art with many idols and objects from places such as South America & Africa with labels stating “acquired 1985.” Whether that means given to the collector freely, for a price or that they were taken without permission I don't know. Perhaps I'd have had more context if I'd gone into the bits of the building you have to pay for but I am much too tight for that. There's some modern art too but not anything too expensive because this is Norwich after all. The centre is set within the concrete ugliness of the University of East Anglia, a prime example of Brutalism at its most horrific.

The toilets at the Sainsbury Centre consist of a series of mini-suites rather than cubicles, each containing a toilet and a bloody huge mirror. I mean a mirror taking up the entire back wall of the suite. I took this to be a clever indictment of the solipsism of modern art – a clever mocking of that self reflexive, narcissistic urge which takes dominance over any social alchemy that might be gained from an art based around concepts of community & social responsibility. It is the "me me me" of celebrity culture and youtube. By reflecting back the face of the person who has just been wandering through the exhibition that person is reminded of their own voyeurism, in fact being confronted with the uncomfortable truth of their western privilege, only minutes ago unconsciously projected onto the majority world exhibits. But furthermore in the size of the mirror we see the deception of narcissism, that our own self-image expands to fill our entire perception of the world but that this is warped and yet unavoidable. Can we ever escape viewing art as a product of the society we were brought up in and the cultural attachments we bring to it?

As I was struck with these thoughts I realised I could not find the hand dryer. Eventually I found it hidden under the mirror. Before I was just mildly interested about the concepts behind this installation - excited enough to play with my chin but not my testes - but now I realised its deeper meanings – the hand dryer represents a spiritual cleansing. The water from the taps represents the river of life and the control of the current as we helplessly swim in the directions mandated by its influence. There is a mercurial force but it is not ours to control. However by drying our hands we overcome the water and become able to ascend above the control of the current and forge our own destiny. I believe the search for the hand drier represents a quest for gnosis. And where do we find this gnosis, this ascent to the final Sefirot of the Kabbalah to our highest, truest self? Why, hidden beneath the mirror, behind the wall of our narcissism!

So to summarise – in the Sainsbury Centre we are forced to confront our own narcissism and voyeuristic tendencies but then once we recognise them, we can accept them, and search for the deeper truth and our ultimate destiny as enlightened beings beneath the veil of our solipsism.

Breathtaking stuff  - and this was just the toilets. I would recommend the Sainsburys centre for Visual Arts to anyone who can see.

Stranger on a Train

A journey to Sheringham by train allowed me to bring up a type of dryer hitherto untouched on this blog - the combo. You are no doubt familiar with the sort - water first, then a spurt of soap, then the dryer, then disappointment x10. I'm not particularly keen on these. Sadly it is inevitable that a dryer that comprises only a third of an installation will not be as good as one designed & built solely for that purpose - its nature comprises of compromises.

Secondly what irritated me was because of the dryer's lack of power and general sluggishness I had to do another round - but it wouldn't let me use the dryer again until I had repeated the water/soap/water process again. Naturally I removed my hands for that part to save myself getting caught in an infinite loop of dissatisfaction, never quite reaching the nirvana of dry hands before being cruelly returned to wet hands again. I found this inefficient and frustrating.

The last thing to day is that it was hidden behind a mirror. Unlike the dryer appearing in the next review this was no metaphor for narcissism smothering enlightenment. It was just a shit mirror, a shit dryer and an all round shit experience.

We should never have let our railways be privatised.

Vent Axia, Your Sins are Forgiven

The Cathedral Refectory is for me a stunning example of sympathetic architecture. The way the contemporary structures highlight and enhance the centuries old masonry is a great example of how to do these things right - even if having exposed masonry with 'do not touch' signs where people queue for the toilets is never really going to work.

Fortunately one thing that will never happen is damage to the masonry by people drying their hands on it when exiting the conveniences. This is because the refectory toilets have a brilliantly powerful & efficient hand dryer installed. This is a vent-axia, an oft-recurring name in the hand drying world. The design was slick and reminded me of the Triangulus in McDonalds -  it too having a small triangle which is a moody, sultry red when resting but glows an energetic, stimulating blue when in use. The main aesthetic difference is the vent-axia is a brilliant white as opposed to its dark mirror, the black Triangulus.

The Vent-Axia is also the equal of the Triangulus in terms of power and efficiency. This is one of those all-too-rare dryers that is so powerful it visibly moves the veins in my hands with its regal blast of hot air. If this dryer was a big bad wolf it could topple the house of bricks, smash the pig into little bits and cook them into crispy bacon, all in one breath. To illustrate this I did temporarily leave the venue and return with a pig but unfortunately they wouldn't let me in. I did however manage to record this audio sample which should give you an idea of its tremendous roar, like an angry hellcat. It was in fact powerful enough to drown out the music upstairs.

All in all a quality product that easily makes my top 5. A few weeks ago I posted a damning video indictment of the Vent-Axia Dryline. It seems only fitting that in the toilets of the majestic Norwich Cathedral that I, much like Jesus would if he reviewed hand dryers, forgave Vent-Axia its sins and saw it reborn in the name of the son, the father, and the holy Airblade.

Hyco (the Plough)

White, hard and bulky - 

My soft hands, wet and ready

For storms, not this breeze.

Ventaxia Dryline +

Ventaxia dryline + ... you've let me down, you've let Chris down, you've let the Brickmakers down but most of all, you've let yourself down.