Friday: I return to the East End

Getting back into London from Arundel around noon on Friday gave me an opportunity to cram in a few more things that I'd been meaning to do, two of which fell nicely on the tube/overground route I was taking back to Tufnell Park. Janie dropped me off at the station in Sydenham, with a very nice packed lunch, and I got on the overground, disembarking four stations later in New Cross Gate to walk the short distance to the Goldsmiths Centre for Contemporary Art. Goldsmiths is the art college of the University of London. They recently converted the boiler house and laundry rooms of a Grade II listed Victorian bath house into their gallery and performance space, retaining a lot of the industrial elements of the building in the same way that Tate Modern and Mass MoCA do. The exhibition I saw was videos by Tony Cokes, an American artist mounting his first exhibition in the UK. I usually don't have a lot of patience for video art, but I sat through three of the five(?): one about Morrisey (of the Smiths) and the dichotomy between his often poetic lyrics and his racist personal views, one about Aretha Franklin, her music, her support of Angela Davis and of the black community (I thought this was really powerful), and a very heavy one about US and UK use of the five techniques of torture, particularly that of incredibly loud heavy metal music. I then found the empty caff in the building, which turned out to be a perfect place for a sit down to eat my packed lunch of tuna and sweet corn sandwich. 

Back on the train, I alighted at Southwark and walked up to Tate Modern. I'd already been there to see a couple of exhibitions, but I had been too early to see Kara Walker's installation Fons Americanus in the Turbine Hall, which opened on 2 October. This is a difficult work to look at, particularly as a white American, and is both frivolous and incredibly serious at the same time. It was hard for me to see all the children and adults sitting on the side of the fountain, sticking their hands in the water, and lounging around with their backs to the main piece, seemingly not seeing it or taking it in other than as being something for their relaxation and enjoyment. I admit that I, too, sat on the edge of the fountain when my camera told me I needed to change batteries, but I quickly got back up. 

After I dumped my stuff back at my gaff, I saw that there were no rain clouds in the sky and decided to get in a visit to the East End. It had been two years since I'd last roamed around Shoreditch and Spitalfields. It always delights me to see the things that haven't changed and to visit old friends, like Thierry Noir's faces in Holywell Lane and Mighty Mo looking down on the car park in Sclater Street. 

So many new buildings have sprung up and the area has become much more commercial in the 15 years I've roamed around here. I was utterly confused around the Old Street roundabout and had to consult my map many times when I found myself surrounded by tower blocks I didn't recognize. But I found some new street art along the way. 

I'm not sure if this statement is apocryphal or if it's already come to pass. 

Stats:
£7.85 for food and wine at the Sainsbury's in Tufnell Park
20,261 steps
8.58 miles