Tate Modern

Who does not remember the first visit to the renowned modern art museum standing at London's Bankside? Going into Tate Modern's turbine hall fills one with an awe similar to entering an ancient cathedral. In these places people once expressed deep unexplainable emotions towards God. But for the modern day man they have lost much of their original meaning. In a similar way, that's what I think when I go into the old Bankside Power Station, that is a symbol of a bygone age of industry and power. 

Times change. I become very aware of that when looking at buildings. And I love the idea of transforming architecture rather than destroying and rebuilding over it. An art gallery out of an oil-fired power station? Oh yes. Originally born out of the drawing board of Giles Gilbert Scott to supply London with electricity in 1952, the building mutated in the hands of architects firm Herzog & de Meuron and in 2000 became the iconic South London landmark we see today. 

This illustration carries on with the series of architectural creatures unleashed over London with dubious intentions. Once more I dwell on the relationship between this building and its opposite counterpart St Paul's Cathedral, one that highlights like any other the urban tension between North and South London. After polluting London for nearly thirty years, Tate Modern now goes 'action painting' actoss the Thames. The hipster looks because it's modern after all...