When I first stepped into the vicinity of the Grand Hotel, I was struck by the promised grandeur and incredible presence provided by the overwhelming flush of red under my feet, in my vision ahead, and beyond an upwards glance. But this wasn’t all. The intricacy of pattern after pattern marking the pillars, the staircases, the tail of each and every corner, was dazzling to the eye. It was an intimate beauty - as if being swallowed into the grandiose belly of a dragon beast - that could not be experienced unless you willingly step into it in person. With a presence so loud and splendid, as conveyed through the picture-perfect photos on the hotel website, it is easy to overlook the quieter moments lingering through the breadth of the building. The cooler, darker tones encased by the rich red, where time passes a beat slower than the rest.
Time was a vital anchor in my thoughts as I started my exploration; I was thinking of the physical weathering of the architecture, the history, on a collective and personal level. I was hyper-aware of the ticking time travellers were spending here, in the lobby, in their rooms, sitting down to converse and eat. And I was even more aware that by photographing each passing scene, I was freezing time and converting reality into another medium, before another.
But how were people spending their time here? From personal experience and what I observed, there was always a restlessness in the air in travelling, which is an ironic contrast to the sense of rest the hotel provides with its warm welcome as a temporary home of comfort. Whether the visitor is here for a long-overdue holiday trip, or participating in a meeting of importance, I hope they find a quiet breath, if only for a moment, to take in the awe-inspiring beauty that is the Grand Hotel. And I hope they take it further - having a tranquil moment to yourself in the midst of the buzzing everyday life is especially important because time is temporary. Perhaps in a short standstill, time can be forever.
‘Linger in the Lobby’
ink, acrylic, and oil on panel
60cm x 45cm
The overwhelming, grand redness of the hotel is reserved, almost being engulfed by the rich scale and colour. The scene depicts several visitors in transition, busying themselves with their luggage in the lobby, the timing of whether this is at the beginning or end of their trip is ambiguous. What is clear is the evidence of emotion swirling around in their very bodies, as they pace, shuffle, and Linger in the Lobby.
‘Holiday from a Distance’
acrylic and oil on panel
60cm x 45cm
This is a scene captured from the 10th floor of the hotel - the high and mighty perspective causing everything below to be of a miniature. The looking out of the window to devour the view from a distance calls for a wonder at a distance - and at the same time a self-reflection from where you stand. Who are the people that occupy the space? Are they resting or restless? Am I happy, in this moment in time? Could I join in this Holiday from a Distance?
‘Exiting the Entrance’
ink, acrylic, and oil on panel
90cm x 60cm
The less-seen outlook from the entrance looking out is portrayed in this piece. Due to the sun-bathed scene outside the staff and travellers in the foreground appear as silhouettes. Although they are blanketed in shadow, the staff’s warmth of accommodating visitors in and out of the hotel shines through. After all, it is the people that create the welcoming atmosphere. In the largest painting out of the three, I wish to depict the shifting of a chapter, the transition in travel, by Exiting the Entrance.