Time to go and see, indeed!
Or not.
The problem was, I was a day
early, the course starts on the 2nd and not the 1st. Friday is not Saturday, no matter
how hard you try and make it so!
So, a day to play with and that
leads us to:
How To Fill A Day In
London When You Are Unexpectedly Able To Do Something Else
So, the first thing is to go for the swim that you thought
would be impossible because of the start of the Study Day.
The Camden
Council Pool next to St Pancras is part of a large complex that includes a pool
(with changning multicloured dimpled glass wall); a gym; a small children’s
library; a café, and who knows what else
might be hidden in its imposing sturucture.
The 25m
pool has a feature that I have not come (or swum) across before: an adjustable
floor at the shallow end which makes it even shallower for school parties. This may be great for school parties but it
makes proper swimming impossible and you have to adjust your stroke to a sort
of “gathering to your bosom” scooping motion to stop yourself hitting your
fingertips against the raised floor of the pool! So, not only do you have to suffer the
high-pitched squeals of apprentice humans, but you also have to endure swimming
in a pool equivalent of a glorified puddle for part of your length!
I sincerely
hope the technology is too expensive for this to be adopted by many other
authorities, and I am a little hesitant about speaking of it for fear that my
words are seen and acted upon by some neophyteophile public official!
It also
makes the time for my metric mile something about which I cannot boast and I
have no new “achievements” to show as my smartwatch relentlessly documents my
strangely slow progress.
As far as I can see there is no
way of programming child-friendly obstacles to progress into the data base.
Swim
completed and cup of tea drunk I was ready to throw myself onto and into
culture. First stop the V&A.
What is Luxury?
There was a hell of a lot of walking from the South
Kensington tube station to the entrance of the Victoria and Albert Museum, but What
is Luxury? – a V&A and Crafts Council exhibition more than
justified the walk.
This is a
free, relatively small exhibition which with an intoxicating well chosen series
of exhibits poses the question in the title and rather triumphantly does not
come to any complete answers, but neatly turns the question into a culmination
of possible answers held in each person’s character.
There is
expensive bling here: gold, diamonds, and exquisite craftmanship – but there is
often a twist in the presentation and by a thoughtful progression of
juxtapositions each glance of the spectator is complicated by the difficulty of
an easy response.
The
exhibition is a totality and isolating a single element is to lessen the
effect, but for those of you unable to go (Go!
It’s free!) I will pick out a few of the pieces which struck me.
The star of
the show, though not the showiest, was, for me a phosophor bronze dandelion
chandelier – and that is not a metaphorical description. The ‘shades’ of the lights are literally
balls of dandelion seeds captured just before they were able to disperse! The electricity which lights the LED bulbs
travels along the intricate and delicate bronze scaffolding thus eliminating
the need for wiring. It is a thing of
fragile beauty and has to be seen to be appreciated.
At the
other end of the fragile scale, one of the exhibits is a flat stone: a found
object. This stone has been selected for
its assumed ability to facilitate ‘skipping’ across water when thrown. It has been gilded with 24kt gold and comes
complete with its own tailor-made leather pouch.
The item
which has been most photographed is Giovanni Corvaja’s Golden Fleece Headpiece
(2009) which takes the form of what appears to be a golden fur trimmed hat
which is actually woven from 16km of superfine golden thread using techniques
developed over a ten year period.
An
exhibition which has to be seen to be believed.
And did I say that there was free admission?
A long walk
back to the underground station to get to Tate Britain.
The Rex Whistler
Restaurant
One of the indulgences that I was determined to lavish on
myself this trip was a visit to The Rex Whistler Restaurant in Tate
Britain. I have been patronising this
artistic establishment ever since I went to the Tate as a student and couldn’t
be bothered to wait in the queue for the self service restaurant and sat at a
table in the Rex Whistler before I saw the cost of the food!
It was
worth it and I have repeated the experience each (almost) time I visit.
My first
course this time was pan fried Isle of Man scallops, Cornish baby squid with
citron shallots. This was followed by
Gressingham duck breast, confit leg & savoy cabbage parcel, swede puree
with seasonal potatoes. I then had
salted caramel chocolate pot and to end off I had a selection of British
regional cheeses with a glass of port.
The wine was a bottle of Passagem and they even made me a pot of Earl
Grey and English Breakfast tea when I could eat no more.
If you are
wondering why I have made no comment on the dishes, it is for the simple reason
that each and every one of them was utterly delicious.
I have no
intention of revealing just how much I paid for this succession of culinary
delights because I went outside the normal parameters of the set three (not
four) course meal, but I would say that the three course meal costs just over
thirty quid, and it’s worth it. I had an
extra course, a bottle of wine, a glass of port and a pot of tea – and it was
still worth it!
Thus
fortified I ventured out into the gallery to view My Painting.
A Bigger Splash by David Hockney 1967
Having just had a very full and very leisurely meal I was in
no fit position to stand around writing without some support so I hunted around
for one of those little gallery folding chairs and took that to Hockney’s
canvas and started pondering.
Sitting
with a Caro metal sculpture behind me and the Hockney in front of me, I
presented an intimidating picture of academy and people behaved as if I was
writing words of artistic profundity in my little notebook.
From time
to time I darted up to The Work and took photos of details that had taken my
notice. I do think that I looked at this
painting in a different way from the way that I would have looked at it before
I started this Art History Course. I saw
details and noticed techniques that I think would have passed me by before.
I think
that I have a couple of perceptions that will add weight to my
observations. At least I hope so.
What a good
painting it is!
Tired, but
not yet exhausted, I walked to the tube and went to Leicester Square to walk to
The National Gallery.
Inventing Impressionism
The sub-title of this exhibition is ‘Paul Durand-Ruel and
the modern art market’ and it collects together some of the paintings that went
through Durand-Ruel’s hands as he tried to establish a market for the New
Painting that Impressionism was at one time.
This is a
ravishing exhibition and god alone knows how much it cost to insure because the
value of the stuff on show is probably hundreds of millions of pounds. That doesn’t make much difference to the
experience, but in a show which constantly points out how difficult it was to
establish a market for these paintings (only a dozen or so sold in one epoch
making exhibition!) it also shows how successful he was – eventually!
Go on line
and look at what is there, because there is too much which is too famous to go
in to here. It was an astonishing
experience to go round it and the hefty catalogue looks as though it will
provide me with hours of happy reading!
And looking of course.
I couldn’t
go to the National without looking at my Van Eyck and as I attempted to find it
I read one of the many notices informing people that many of the galleries were
closed because of industrial action.
The
management of the National is trying to privatize the employment of the guards
and there has been a national outcry against this attempt to lower the working
conditions and pay of a loyal group of workers.
I have already signed a petition to stop this retrograde action, but
felt the need to do a little more.
I asked for
a comment form and wrote a strong letter to the authorities and I am now
awaiting their reply!
Fired up by
my fearless letter writing I strode out into the growing gloom of central
London and noticed that there were posters advertising an exhibition of the
work of John Singer Sargent in the National Portrait Gallery.
Sargent: portraits of artists and friends
With my remaining strength I threw myself into the artistic
fray once more and paid the not insubstantial entrance fee to an exhibition of
an artist I have always admired for the sheer easy brilliance of his handling
of paint.
You get a
long vista in one of the galleries and at the end you see Sargent’s
masterpiece, the tweely named, but staggeringly accomplished, Carnation, lily, lily, rose – two young
girls lighting paper lanterns at dusk in a garden with carnations, lilies and
roses. The capturing of a particular
quality of light is extraordinary and the painting is one of the real treasures
of the Tate.
His ability
to capture a character in paint is amazing and although at a distance his work
seems highly finished, at close quarters you see exactly how free his brush
strokes are.
This
exhibition also has his charcoal drawing of W B Yeats used as a frontispiece to
the first volume of Yeats’ Collected Poems of 1908.
Lots of
things worth seeing here!
And so . . .
A short debate with myself about whether or not I could stay
awake long enough to eat a meal ended with me prone on the bed. And soon in it.
Before I
fell asleep, or rather plummeted into the darkness, I wondered how I ever
managed to do even more in London when I was a mere stripling in my
thirties. And perhaps there is the
answer!
