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.

Into the Asylums

Hospital 1:

An imposing Victorian brick building that brings the word "asylum" instantly to mind on first sight. This architecture and the dated building features inside, on some level undermine attempts to update the way we treat the differently mentalled. It is a grim place where institutional power is wielded and the abberant of our society are smashed into a medically-defined round hole with a bloody great hammer made of drugs.

Sorry, wrong blog. For more on that see
"mybiasedpoliticalopinionsaboutmentalhealthservicesthatyoullprobablydisagreewith.blogspot.com"

For reasons not related to my sanity I am in this hospital. Being the sort of person who passes urine, I visited the facilities. Here I was met with:

Now in keeping with ancient radiators and sash windows that between them make it impossible for the building to maintain a comfortable temperature, here we have a delightfully retro design. In the photo below you can see the deathless, and punctuation-free, phrase "on touch off." I took a photo, noted that the drier didn't work, and wondered if an enterprising patient had sabotaged the drier as a comment about the fact that they, like the drier had now been rendered, were powerless.

On revisiting the facilities I realised I had missed a vital clue - on touch off was a button! I had viewed it as a strange flowchart or a process because of which I had assumed first the drier would come on then I would touch something or other and then the drier would turn off. If it had said touch, on, touch, off I might have understood.


Or maybe just put a bloody circle with a line at the bottom like every other power switch? Perhaps I'm easily baffled.

If you read this blog regularly Tom then you know how I feel about buttons vs sensors. But the brilliance of on touch off is it just carries on until you make it stop. If I so wished I could keep my hands under there for 10 minutes. Why not go mad? An hour. 2 hours! Drain the national grid for my dry hands! 

Temperature and power were adaqute enough but factoring in this control and for being the only drier I've seen with a Zen Koan for a power button this is a drier that will be swirling round my head like a cryptic crossword clue for many days yet. 

Also folks witness my first video for the blog which although terrible quality demonstrates on touch off nicely:

Hospital 2:

An imposing Victorian brick building that brings the word "asylum" instantly to mind on first sight. This architecture and the dated building features inside, on some level undermine attempts to update the way we treat the differently mentalled. It is a grim place where institutional power is wielded and the abberant of our society are smashed into a medically-defined round hole with a bloody great hammer made of drugs.

For reasons not related to my sanity I am in this hospital. Being the sort of person who passes urine, I visited the facilities. Here I was met with the Heatrae Sadia No Touch which aside from sounding like a stripper and the standard strip club instruction had some lovely pictorial instructions which are better shown than explained. Thus I took a photo, and then noted that the drier didn't work, and wondered if an enterprising patient had sabotaged the drier as a comment about the fact that they, like the drier had now been rendered, were powerless.

This last picture depicts one dryer feature that hasn't come up yet on this blog - the duel outlet that allows the user at a flip to dry face or hands. Being a gentleman of sound breeding and character naturally I would never lower myself to washing my face in a public lavatory, rendering this feature useless to me.


But how do you feel about this dear readers? I've had no comments on this blog yet (almost as if was a blog about a triviality) so please. Comment below. Duel outlets for changing between face and hands:.Yay or nay? The forum starts here.

E2: Judgement Day

Regular readers may recall that not long ago I came across a hand dryer that would not even turn on - ironically named the Eterna. You may have thought it unfair to rate a hand dryer when it hasn't even had the chance to prove itself. After all I'm meant to be looking at drying time, air pressure, speed, control. Not turning on is more likely a fault with the establishment not the machine.

So when I chanced upon another Eterna t'other night (at Flathouse, which does some decent grub by the way) my first thought was "redemption." This was the Eterna's chance to wow me. And did it? Not exactly.

First I must say the design was very promising. A shiny silver box with sleek curves it looks not unlike a robot's head. Already I was excited.

And then that awful moment of truth as a pathetic fart of lukewarm air hits your hands and you know you're going to be there for at least a minute. This was the Eterna's comeback tour! And disappointment overcame me as I gave up and used some paper towels which were also in the WC. Perhaps even the restaurant owners realised what a damp squib the Eterna was if they saw fit to have a stock of these ready. 

Which makes me wonder, why not get a better hand dryer in the first place? It's a pretty new restaurant so they were probably worrying about decor, having a hygienic kitchen, promotion/advertising, start up costs, menu, ensuring disabled access, overheads etc.

And readers what a sad world it is when these are all seen as more important than having dry hands.