Showing posts with label UK. Show all posts
Showing posts with label UK. Show all posts

Saturday, November 15, 2025

Old and New (Week 4)


My four weeks in London have flown by. Looking over my spreadsheet, it seems that I worked in a lot of exhibitions, small galleries and (despite the rubbish weather) guided walks. But because of said rubbish weather, I didn't go for any long rambles on my own to explore new-to-me areas and I didn't do a day trip to a seaside town. But I did get out of London on three days and used my new senior railcard on two of those. 

As the days passed, I became much more comfortable in my digs and with my host family in Tufnell Park, but the area never grew on me or warmed my heart the way Belsize Park/Primrose Hill does. The sense of community in Tufnell Park, to the extent that it exists, seems to revolve around kids (hundreds of them, judging by the number of doorbell rings on Halloween evening), families and yuppies who hang out at the Tufnell Tavern. There's not much in the way of inviting green spaces (Islington has the smallest amount of green space of all the London boroughs; I would have gone up to Waterlow Park or spent more time on the Heath had the weather been better), no library (it's up at the Archway), and I didn't find any community events pertaining to local history, arts or culture. Maybe I was looking in the wrong places. So, I returned to Belsize Park for some of those touch points that I needed and I ate a lot of my favourite comfort foods.

The final week was full of catching up with friends, old and new, who I hadn't seen in earlier weeks. And I visited some new venues as well as revisited old favourites.

Monday started with coffee with Nigel, one of my newest mates. Several of my London friends have visited Massachusetts, but Nigel is the only one who has actually been to Northampton! He's a Clerkenwell & Islington guide who leads walks on local history and on his specialty subject, which is cinema history. I'm afraid I rather bent his ear with updates on my various London activities and projects at my volunteer gig with Historic Northampton. I really appreciate his willingness to listen to me bang on about all of this and to give me helpful advice on my ongoing project (it's been taking forever) to develop a virtual walking tour of the commercial and business district of Florence, a village of Northampton. I'm sorry that I wasn't able to work one of Nigel's walks or tours into my itinerary during this trip, but I will do when I return in the spring. I'm totally jealous that Nigel saw Gillian Welch and Dave Rawlings on their recent UK tour. 

This day I was faced with a double dilemma: the usual Monday closings plus the start of half-term week (semester break) for the school kiddies. Careful planning would be needed to avoide crowds. I opted for the newly-opened exhibition Secret Maps at the the British Library. The number 17 bus took me from outside the caff down to King's Cross, where I mooched around for a little while before heading to the BL. 

As with other exhibitions at the British Library, this one was extensive ... almost overly so. My friend Simon had advised me not to spend too much time in the initial parts of the exhibition, tempting though it may be, as there would be much, much more to see. I tried to heed this advice, but didn't do a very good job of it. A shedload of maps showed places that were hidden or obfuscated in the interest of power, military secrecy, or marginalizing different populations. Fascinating, but rather more than my wee brain could take in. 

During my visit, I was not aware that the staff of the British Library were planning an imminent strike action over wages. No picket line was in evidence when I was there on Monday, but when I subsequently read about the strike I cancelled plans to attend a talk at the library later in the week. No way would I cross a picket line. 

Continuing my ramble around Bloomsbury, I stopped at Waitrose in the Brunswick Centre to purchase what turned out to be my last Forgotten Ends of this visit, which I ate while sat on a bench in Brunswick Square. 

From Brunswick Square, I walked over to the British Museum (third visit!), using the back entrance in Montague Place and making a beeline to Room 2 in order to see the Tutor Heart Pendant, discovered in 2019 by a metal dectorist and currently on display while the BM tries to raise the funds to purchase it for the nation. Despite the BM being heaving with people, only two others were looking at this remarkable pendant. I later made an online donation to the Tudor Heart appeal


I then popped into a fabulous stationery store in nearby Bury Street before heading down Theobald's Road to the Holborn Library. Inside the library is the Camden Local Studies and Archives Centre, which had a nice display about the rookery of St Giles. I hadn't been in the library for donkey's years, so I was reminded of what a great resource this is. Lovely to hear a woman playing the piano in the foyer on my way out. 

For my last stop of the day, I took the number 1 bus from Russell Square to Belsize Park in order to return my library book to the Belsize Community Library. It's such a friendly place and I will definitely be back during future visits to check out books, attend talks, and maybe even to do Qi Gong. 

Tuesday started out with blue skies and sunshine. Hooray! This was the day for my customary ramble with my friend Malcolm. We often meet up somewhere in the Holland Park/Notting Hill area, where Malcolm, and his parents before him, has lived his entire live. We began at Holland Park station and walked the short distance to the Piano Nobile Gallery to see an exhibition of prints, drawings and paintings by Walter Sickert. It was fascinating to see how Sickert made multiple iterations of a scene, starting with sketches before culminating in the finished product of a print or painting (or a series with variations). The vast majority of works on display were from the private collection of Herbert and Ann Lucas, and Piano Nobile was authorized to sell them all. It's a shame that the various pieces will go to different homes or museums, never to be seen together like this again. We were really lucky to have had that opportunity. Here's a short video about the exhibition and its significance. 

As we strolled northward, Malcolm pointed out to me numerous places of interest -- some sites of family history, such as where his parents had been married and lived, and others of local history. "That used to be a pub", he sadly said half a dozen times or more. When we reached Barlby Road (near which his parents had lived when his dad returned from WW2), in front of us was the massive former Clément-Talbot Limited automobile factory, built in 1903. Grade II listed and now known as Labroke Hall, the building is a stunning example of Beaux Arts-inspired industrial architecture, full of wonderful iron, stone and woodwork. Malcolm had done his first apprenticeship in auto mechanics here in the 1970s but hadn't been inside for yonks. 



We had a butcher's at the bar and event space before heading into the east wing to see the sculptural furniture (metal, wood, antlers!) and jewelry in the Carpenters' Workshop Gallery. The current exhibition in the gallery was Rust Never Sleeps by Rick Owens Furniture. The hard metal surfaces, embellished with antlers, didn't look very comfortable (and there were "Do Not Sit" signs everywhere so we couldn't even try) but I reckon they are more statement pieces than functional furnishings, with the possible exception of a massive bed. 


In a smaller upstairs gallery, as well as outside in the courtyard, were pieces comprising the exhibition Bad Ideas for Good Living by Atelier Van Lieshout. These sculptural pieces were a bit more accessible and I could imagine some them in the home or garden of a person with the means to purchase one. (No price list was visible and we didn't ask.)




When we emerged from the gallery, the skies had clouded over and it was getting chilly, but as there was no rain we pushed on to Kensal Green Cemetery, stopping first at Sainsbury's to get sandwiches to eat amongst the dead. Opening in 1833, this was the first commercial (i.e. not owned by a church) cemetery in London and is counted as one of the Magnificent Seven. There are some spectacular Victorian tombs along the Central Avenue. 




I hadn't been here in many years and was surprised to see how it had changed from what I remembered. Malcolm said that several years ago the cemetery underwent a massive tidy-up, with a lot of the overgrown vines and trees that made it so atmospheric and spooky being cut back and trimmed up. It is still receiving burials and we noticed that some of the new tombs, made of shiny black granite and looking like posh garden sheds, were rather over-the-top. An ostentatious display of wealth, perhaps? Or, in the case of the many tombs of families with names from around the Mediterranean, maybe a cultural expression? I'm not posting any photos of these tombs as I assume there are living relatives and so it would be disrespectful. 

We parted ways on the Harrow Road -- Malcolm heading back to Sainsbury's to do his shopping and me to get the Lioness Line (another first) to Euston and then the Northern Line (running a good service finally) back to my gaff. After an early dinner, I met my friend Jen at the Lord Palmerston in Dartmouth Park Road (roughly half way between hers and mine) for a pint. It's a cosy neighbourhood boozer with comfy chairs. We both had pints of Proper Job

The torrential rain on Wednesday brought an additional dilemma. When the weather is truly dreadful, as it was on this day, my long-standing plan is to go to the V&A, where I can wander for as little or as much time as I want through various galleries, often discovering new treasures. But, this being half-term, museumland along the Cromwell Road was sure to be heaving, so perhaps best be avoided. I threw caution to the wind, however, and took the tube to South Kensington. The pedestrian subway that runs between the station and the west side of the Cromwell Road (where the Natural History Museum, Science Museum and V&A are located) resembled a throng heading to football, except that these were mums with prams rather than lads with cans. Fortunately for me, most of the families were destined for museums other than the V&A. 

At the V&A, I wove my way around all the people in the gift shop, up the stairs, through the jewelry gallery and past the Leighton Frescoes to a small exhibition called Lasting Impressions: Women Printmakers 1900-Now. Showcasing the work of 25 printmakers with a variety of subjects and techniques, this wee exhibition was well worth seeing. It's free and on until February 2026. (It was hard to get any decent photos because of the reflections on the glass, but this article has a few shots and some more info.)



Realizing that I was right next to the Photography Centre, and remembering reading something about a display of American Photographs, I turned into the gallery to have a look. It turned out to be two rooms full of fascinating photos, most of which I'd never seen before. The V&A holds one of the largest collections of American photographs outside North America! I didn't have enough time to do it justice, but fortunately it's on until May 2027 so I'll have plenty of time to revisit it on a future trip. 

I scurried out through the rain, back down into the subway to South Kensington station to grab the tube for London Bridge via Westminster. Managing to take the correct exit from London Bridge station for once, I continued my mad dash down Bermondsey Street to the White Cube Bermondsey where I was due to meet my friends Kathy and Allan. They had never been to this gallery and were very impressed by the vast, tall spaces -- it's the largest commercial gallery in Europe. The exhibition we had come to see was Gunpowder and Abstraction by Cai Guo-Qiang, who none of us knew anything about. Fortunately, there was a great video in which he talked about his work and technique. He comes across as such a lovely bloke! (I can't find a link to the exact video we saw, but there's a different one on the bottom of the exhibition webpage linked above.) He uses gunpowder in all his artwork, either big pyrotechnical displays or two-dimensional pieces in which pigment is dispersed on canvas, metal or glass by means of little explosions. When he does large pyrotechnic installations, he often works with members of the local community to develop a display that is meaningful and connected to people and place. In this gallery show, he exhibits large paintings that fill the rooms with explosions of colour. Many of these works are abstract landscapaes or flowers and one -- my favourite -- is of pink bats hanging upside down. 


On Thursday I began attending to things I needed to do in preparation for my departure in two days. My day started with a bus ride over to Belsize Park, toting my yoga mat and bundle of freshly-laundered charity shop clothing, which I was returning for storage to my AirBnB hosts there. I'm planning to be back with them in the spring and they have been lovely about letting me stash these things on top of the wardrobe in "my" bedroom there. 

I decided to spend the day gallery hopping until I ran out of steam, so my next bus ride took me to the Ben Uri Gallery just off the northernmost end of Abbey Road, roughly where Kilburn meets St John's Wood. The gallery had been on my spreadsheet for years, but this was my first visit. This gallery specializes in works of immigrants to the UK, primarily from the late 19th century to the present, with an emphasis on Jewish and Eastern European artists. Although they hold a collection of over 1000 works, the current space is too small to put much of it on display, so they are in the process of seeking a new, larger, more centrally-located space. The tiny exhibition that I saw was Born in the USA: American Immigrant Artists' Contribution to British Visual Culture since 1900

Another bus got me down Abbey Road, past all the tourists outside Abbey Road Studios, to Lisson Grove. After mooching around in Alfie's Antique Market, a huge multi-vendor indoor market, I walked through the outdoor Church Street Market before getting a sandwich at Tesco and eating in a nearby garden. 



I then walked to the Lisson Gallery (actually two galleries, a block apart) to see their current exhibitions, Hugh Hayden: Hughmanity, which I enjoyed:




and Ding Yi: The Road to Heaven, which really didn't move me. 

After a very brief shower, the skies improved and so I walked on, zigzagging south and east, then down Marylebone Lane. I'd read about a gallery in a mews just off the lane, and again this was one I hadn't yet visited. The Brown Collection houses paintings by the artist Glenn Brown alongside pieces from his personal collection of works by other artists. This struck me as a vanity project and Brown's own paintings did nothing for me. Some of the drawings from his collection were lovely, however. But the best part is seeing the interior of the building. And they have a nice loo. 

Finally, I walked eastward to Mortimer Street to visit the newly-opened Ibrazz, a cultural center aiming to promote an exchange of art and ideas from the global majority. The building used to be a private members' club and has been refurbed beautifully, with a bookstore, caff, library, exhibition and function spaces. The caff was buzzing and every seat in the library was occupied -- I hope this bodes well for Ibrazz. The inaugural exhibition/installation was Parliament of Ghosts by the Ghanaian artist Ibrahim Mahama. 

I had a quick dinner back in Tufnell Park before heading out the door to catch yet another bus, this time to take me to Clerkenwell. I had a ticket to see a magic lantern show, put on by Carolyn and Jeremy Booker, at the London Archives. I'd never seen a magic lantern and, in order to maintain the mystery, I opted not to join the people huddled around the triunial (or triple) machine after the show in order to learn how it works. It was really good fun to watch the slides change and move, accompanied by silent film pianist Stephen Horne. Let the mystery be. 


Last day! On Friday, I met my friend Judy at Autograph, a gallery in Rivington Street, a small street that is full of street art and street art tours. 


This gallery features photography that explores issues of race, representation, human rights and social justice. We saw the exhibition I Still Dream of Lost Vocabularies, collages --90 works by 13 contemporary artists,  including some using AI -- that look at erasure and political dissent. The collages were colourful, thought-provoking and lovely. 




We then scurried through torrential downpours to a nearby caff (a proper one, not overly yuppie) for lunch. I had been planning to spend an hour or so mooching around Shoreditch afterwards, but the rain kept pouring down. So I headed back to pack my stuff and tidy the flat. 

Saturday saw me up at stupid o'clock (4:15 am), out the door at 6:15, at Heathrow by 7:30 and on my way back across the pond. I walked in my own door in Florence, Massachusetts at 6:30 pm, utterly exhausted and chuffed with all I'd seen and done in Blighty. My London mates are the best!

Here's my round-up of the "Bests" of my October 2025 visit:

That's a wrap. I'll be back in spring 2026 for more adventures. Don't forget to subscribe (you have to click "View web version" below in order to see the "Subscribe" box) so that you get email notifications whenever I post new content!

... The Shipping Forecast is oddly comforting.

... I still haven't done the Parkland Walk.

Stats:

Monday:
£9 British Library (50% off with Art Pass)
£1 pastel de nata
£2.95 Forgotten Ends
£2.49 groceries
17,867 steps
7.35 miles

Tuesday:
£3.95 meal deal lunch (sandwich, drink, snack)
£3.67 groceries
£6.55 pint
22,398 steps
9.2 miles

Wednesday:
V&A free
White Cube Bermondsey free
12,849 steps
5.34 miles

Thursday:
£2.25 sandwich
£10 Magic lantern show
£4 wine at show
23,270 steps
9.55 miles

Friday:
£10 top up Oyster card
£10 top up mobile phone
12,858 steps
5.32 miles

Thursday, October 30, 2025

Chaos on the Northern Line (Week 3)

When I checked the Citymapper app on Monday morning to see how long it would take me to get to Tate Modern (I would normally take the Northern Line from Tufnell Park to Waterloo), I noticed the wee yellow "i" on the Northern Line icon. Hmmmm... Seems there were some delays due to a signal failure at Stockwell. I sez to meself, "No worries. Leave 10 minutes earlier." Little did I know the chaos that would ensue, lasting until Thursday. 

I rocked up at the Tufnell Park station a bit before 10 am, well after the morning rush should have been over. After waiting on the platform for at least 10 minutes (trains normally come along every 3-4 minutes), one pulled in. The doors opened and no one got off. Every carriage was heaving with people. I saw a tiny space inside the door, and was grateful that a women moved in just enough to let me squeeze on. Luckily I'm small and I was only going one stop. Crikey!


Citymapper had told me to change for the Thameslink at Kentish Town. I'd totally forgotten that this was an option! After a wait of about 8 minutes on the platform at Kentish Town, the train pulled in and it was virtually empty. A fast, smooth journey and I was spit out at Blackfriars for a very short walk to Tate Modern. Did I mention the rain in the forecast? There was none as I walked to the station in Tufnell Park (though the skies looked ominous), but by the time I reached Blackfriars it was absolutely chucking down. Storm Benjamin had arrived. Even with my raincoat and brollie, I was pretty well soaked by the time I entered the Turbine Hall. But I was 10 minutes early to meet Janie, so I had time to dry off a bit with the help of the hand driers in the loo.

I also had time to walk through the new installation in the Turbine Hall. Faithful readers of this blog will know how much I normally enjoy these installations. This one, however, was underwhelming. By Sámi (indigenous Northern European) artist Máret Ánne Sara, the installation is made of sticks, bones, pelts and skulls. I think it's about the relationship between land, water, reindeer, etc. It doesn't begin to occupy the immense space in any sort of effective way. Meh. 




Janie took me as her +1 to two exhibitions: Emily Kam Kngwarray and Theatre Picasso, both of which I'd been debating seeing but was a bit put off by the heafty price tag, even with my Art Pass. I'm always happy and grateful to be a member's +1.

The Australian Aboriginal artist Emily Kam Kngwarry is here shown for the first time in Europe. Her paintings and batiks are definitely unique, like nothing I'd ever seen before. The works involve depictions of "country", the land and the lore of the people who inhabit it. I don't think the wall text or the video adequately explained the meaning of Dreamtime and how that is translated to two-dimensional art. Therefore, the works felt mysterious and inaccessible to me, and ultimately looked very samey with all the dots. I could see the emu tracks and little lizard creatures, but not much else. But on an abstract level, the works are moving and strong, with beautiful colours and textures. Maybe that's what western white people are allowed to see.




And maybe I'm dumb as a post, but the Theatre Picasso exhibition made no sense to me. I think they just pulled a bunch of paintings and drawings out of storage -- Picasso wearing a bull's head or (in a video) acting as Carmen with a veil over his head and a fag in his hand -- then built a fake proscenium, and called it theatre. Ho, hum. 


We stopped in to the nearby Bankside Gallery to see a nice show by the Royal Watercolour Society and then had lunch at a new place in Southwark Street called All That Falafel & More. Good food, friendly staff, excellent prices. Yum. The rain was intermittently soft and torrential as we made our way to and across Waterloo Bridge. Janie then headed to Embankment Station and I pushed on to the Courtauld.

Yes, this was my second visit to the Courtauld Gallery. Unbeknownst to me on my initial visit, there are some Wayne Thiebaud etchings and prints in a display called Delights. This display is included with general admission (free in my case with my Art Pass), so I felt I need to go back and have a butchers. 


I also took a look at The Barber in London: Highlights from a Remarkable Collection, also free to me with my Art Pass. Lady Martha Constance Hattie Barber (1869–1933), who was predeceased by her wealthy husband and who had no children, left her entire fortune for the establishment of the Barber Institute of Fine Arts in Birmingham. Her vision was that the institute would develop an art collection of a similar quality to that of the National Gallery or the Wallace Collection. The collection is normally housed in a Grade I listed Art Deco building on the campus of the University of Birmingham. The building is currently undergoing extensive refurbishment and so parts of the collection have gone out on loan to other art museums. The Courtauld is fortunate to have a small assortment of paintings, and they are all stunning, including works by Gainsborough, Reynolds, Turner, Degas, and Monet. 

Dodging the rain, I got a bus to Bloomsbury for my second visit to the British Museum. This time I made a beeline through the crowds to the Prints and Drawing Room (room 90) to see Nordic noir: works on paper from Edvard Munch to Mamma Andersson. Other than Munch, I'd never heard of any of these artists. The pieces started with two prints by Munch and then carried on through the 1940s to the present. It was interesting that I'd just seen the installation at Tate Modern by a Sámi artist in the morning and then saw all this Nordic art in the afternoon. 

Not even attempting to get anywhere on the tube, I spent Tuesday riding buses and concentrating my activities in and around Trafalgar Square. I started with the National Gallery, where I saw the blockbuster exhibition Radical Harmony - Helene Kröller-Müller's Neo-Impressionists. This is another exhibition based on the collection of a remarkable woman. One of the significant art collectors of the 20th century, she assembled the most comprehensive ensemble of Neo-Impressionist paintings in the world. Collected with the aim of being publicly accessible, these works now form part of the Kröller-Müller Museum in the Netherlands, which she founded in 1938. Even though I'm not a huge fan of Pointillism, I really enjoyed walking through room after room filled with colour. 


I then strolled around St James's Park and watched the pelicans before I meandered my way through a few nearby galleries. At the Mall Galleries, I saw several rooms full of works by the the Society of Wildlife Artists -- lots of paintings of birds and a few mammals, fish and slugs. Next, the Institute for Contemporary Arts (ICA) where I saw something having to do with oil that I didn't like much. Finally, on to the Whitecube Mason's Yard for large colour photographs by Andeas Gursky before walking up Shaftsbury Avenue to Covent Garden to catch a bus. 


On Wednesday, the Northern Line was even more of a mess. Tufnell Park station was closed entirely (it's a non-interchange station, so TfL must consider it insignificant). I needed to get to London Bridge to meet my friend Jane for our trip to the Metropolitan Police Museum in Sidcup. I scurried over to the Holloway Road and joined throngs of people at the bus stop. When the number 43 came along, I had to push my way in the front door to be the last passenger let on the bus. With each stop, as people emerged from the side door, I was able to inch my way down the aisle of the bus. Finally, somewhere around Islington Green, I got a seat. I rocked up at Waterloo with just enough time to spend a penny (i.e. use the loo) before Jane and I caught our train. 

The exhibition is actually a rare loan of items from the Crime Museum (a collection used by the Met for training purposes, not open to the public) to the Metropolitan Police Museum (a collection related to the history of the Met). It's a small exhibition -- housed in a single room -- and only 10 people at a time are allowed inside. Our guide took us around from display to display, telling us about the crimes and the police detection methods used to aprehend the criminals. We saw items related to Dr. Crippen, the Blackout Ripper, the Great Train Robbery, and John Christie, as well a bunch of other baddies I'd never heard of. Before I knew it, an hour and a half had passed. 


After lunch in a caff, Jane and I got back on the train into London, watching the skies as the grey moved out and sunshine returned. We made a spur-of-the-moment decision to go to Regent's Park to see the annual Frieze Sculpture on display in the park. This turned out to be a great plan -- the sculpture (fewer pieces than previous years) was much better quality than the past couple of years. Less is more. We had a fun time looking at each piece, making up our idea of what the sculpture was about, and then reading the word-salad (probably written by gallery staff) on the display boards. Jane is much more outgoing than I am -- she would ask anyone nearby what they thought of the sculptures and got into some funny interactions. The October sun, low in the sky at this latitude, cast golden highlights on the yellow leaves and long shadows on the ground. 








I then walked down Tottenham Court Road to Foyles, where I had a long sit-down with a beer and a book before my evening event. In the vestry house (lovely!) of St Giles in the Fields, I attended a talk about the Irish in the Rookery of St Giles by historian Breda Corish. The talk was interesting and I learned a fair bit about the Irish who came to the area in the 17th and 18th centuries, but would have liked to have heard more about the 19th century. 

Thursday was Warhol in Woking. Thank goodness my train ticket from Waterloo was an open day return, as the chaos on the Northern Line was still ongoing. I tapped in at Tufnell Park just after 9:30 (off-peak in order to get my 1/3 senior railcard discount), but the train was late, heaving with people and I had to change platforms at Camden Town. Stressful as this was, I boarded a train at Waterloo with four minutes to spare and breathed a sigh of relief. (There's a frequent service to Woking, so I could have gotten the next train if necessary.) 

It was a cold and miserable day, so I headed straight to the Lightbox Gallery. I'd been meaning to visit this gallery for years, and now that I've seen how easy it is to get to and what a lovely space it is, I will be back. I was there to see a large Warhol exhibition and to attend a curator's talk on Warhol Unmasked: Art, Identity and Reinvention (1968-1987). Both the exhibition and the talk were excellent.



My visit to the Lightbox also included a nice sit-down in the caff, where I ate my packed lunch and purchased a cup of tea and a brownie. The Lightbox also houses a local history gallery telling Woking's Story, with displays about a Medieval manor, a local department store, Woking during WW2, Brookwood Cemetery, customs and clothing of mourning, and a local psychiatric institution. All of the displays were developed by local citizens who, with support of archivists, researched and assembled the artifacts. There's the usual interactive bits and dress-up corner for the kiddies, but there's plenty to interest adults as well. 

The weather was a bit better when I emerged from the Lighbox three hours later, so I wandered around the town center a bit. There really isn't a whole lot to see. The streets and a large shopping precinct are full of chain stores -- Nandos, McDonalds, Taco Bell, Pret, etc. I popped into the one charity shop I saw. Most of the independent shops seemed to be barber shops -- I'd venture to guess that Woking may have more barbers per capita than any other town in Britain. 

The author H. G. Wells lived in Woking for the year in which he wrote The War of the Worlds. There's a sculpture of Wells in the town center and one of a Martian from the book. 



Back at Waterloo, the skies were relatively clear so I walked around a bit and then caught a bus for King's Cross (deverted, it actually stopped at St Pancras), and then walked up York Way to the Pangolin Gallery. I saw two exhibitions, primarily of sculpture. The one by Geoffrey Clarke I really liked. 


The other by Almuth Tebbenhoff didn't move me much (but then, it had been a long day and I was knackered).


Although I continued to Tufnell Park by bus, I later learned that the signal failure in Stockwell had finally been fixed earlier that afternoon. Yay!

On Friday morning, I made it by tube in no time flat to Green Park, then walked the short distance to the Christea Roberts Gallery in Pall Mall where I met my mate Simon. He introduced me to the splendid watercolours of Emma Stibbon, whose exhibition Melting Ice | Rising Tides had just opened. Simon has been following her career and thinks she is a star. In this exhibition, she "explores and documents through drawings, prints and an immersive installation, how the warming environment of the polar regions directly causes rising sea levels and coastal erosion on UK coastlines, with a specific focus on Sussex and North Devon." She often mixes seawater and ground up rocks with her paints to interesting effects. 



After a cuppa, we walked to the Royal Academy where Simon escorted me into the Kerry James Marshall: The Histories exhibition as his +1. He'd already seen the exhibition, so he took a fast turn through to revisit a few things, while I happily spent well over an hour and a half looking at the monumental paintings. Once again, I'd come to London to learn about an African-American artist I hadn't previously heard of. This is a huge exhibition, filled with monumental paintings -- colourful, thought-provoking, challenging, enlightening, ironic, moving, etc. The exhibition will not be shown in the US, so I was glad to have had the opportunity to see it here in London. 


I spent the rest of the afternoon mooching around galleries, starting with ones in Cork Street behind the RA, including the Goodman Gallery where the second half of the El Anatsui exhibition was on view (I'd seen the first half at the October Gallery in Bloomsbury). 


The number 9 bus then took me to Exhibition Road where I hopped off and walked up to the Serpentine Gallery. First, I made my annual visit to the Serpentine Pavilion. I thought this year's (by Marina Tabassum) was better than some of the others we've seen lately. The proportions and scale are lovely, and it looks like it was a very nice space for coffee or an event when the weather was warmer. They'll be taking it down in a few days. 




The exhibitions in the North and South galleries left me totally cold and so I exited quickly. Exhibitions here have been very hit or miss recently, with a few more misses than hits. 

The afternoon was sunny, so I strolled up to the Italian Gardens (now put to sleep for the winter, but the fountains looked lovely in the bright sunshine) and on to Paddington where I caught the tube back to Tufnell Park. 

Just before going to bed, I checked Citymapper for the best route to use on Saturday to get me to the Heath Robinson Museum in Pinnar, a place I'd never been. It would involve getting the Metropolitan line from Finchley Road (I'd never been past West Hampstead on this line). All looked fine and very doable. I would be able to walk (quickly) to the Parliament Hill Farmers' Market, get my bread for the week, then get the Mildmay Line from Gospel Oak to Finchley & Frognal, walk (again briskly) down the Finchley Road to the other station where I'd catch the Metropolitan Line. Easy ... until it wasn't.

When I got to the platform at Finchley Road, I found that there were delays on the Metropolitan line, all the way out to and beyond Pinnar. Yeeeesh! Transport hell seemed to be following me around. I was to have met my friend Jane at the museum at 11:15, but it soon became clear that wasn't going to happen. Over the tannoy came an announcement that anyone waiting for the train for Amersham (that's the one I wanted) should take the next one for Uxbridge to Harrow on the Hill and change there. Jane and I texted each other as I was getting on the Uxbridge-bound train. She was already at Harrow on the Hill and reckoned she'd still be there when my train pulled in. There, we implemented Plan B and got a bus the rest of the way to Pinnar, arriving around noon. 

The museum is charming and the soon-to-close exhibition, Connections and Contraptions, full of marvelous automata and machines made by guest artists, was a delight. We had so much fun looking at the drawings, turning cranks, pushing floor pedals, and watching the gizmos do their thing. One automata picked its nose, while a fox with its body made of a guitar plucked the strings and played an eerie tune. I had never heard of Heath Robinson, but I now know that his name has become an idiom in the UK for a machine that is overly complicated, impractical, and amusing. A second room contained display boards detailing Heath Robinson's life and career as an illustrator. All well worth the schlep to Pinnar. 



After lunch in a local caff, we roamed around the town, going into several charity shops to check out the clothing and knickknacks. We each made a purchase of a book, one on 1930s design for Jane and one called Paved with Gold: A Scrapbook of London Life for me. 

We turned our clocks back on Saturday night, thus bringing an end to British Summer Time and plunging us into late-afternoon darkness and making everyone grumpy. Even the wasps are upset about the cold and dark, and they have decided that they prefer to be inside my loft studio rather than out in the cold. Throughout my stay, I've been trapping one or two a day with a glass and then releasing them out the shower room window (now that I've been to the World of Wasps exhibition, I'm much more respectful of them). Sometime in the early hours of Sunday, EIGHT of them decided to move in with me! I've evicted them.

With no real plan for Sunday, and not a whole lot of energy, I went down to the Marylebone Farmers' Market to buy two of my favourite savory pies for my final week. There was no sign of the sun and a cold wind was whipping between the buildings as I walked from Bond Street station up towards the market. I nipped into Waitrose to buy a pain aux raisins, which I ate on a bench in Paddington Street Gardens as is my custom when I go on the pie run. Then, pushing on into a driving wind, I walked to the 67 York Street Gallery to see an exhibition of abstraction and modern British art

Feeling drained from my busy week, I caught a bus and headed back to my gaff to do laundry, chill, write and begin to sketch out a plan for the coming week. I still have mates to see and things to do!

Stats:

Monday:
£ gift for a mate
£9.95 lunch for two
£9.24 groceries
Tate Modern - free as +1 of member
Courtauld - free general admission with Art Pass
British Museum - free
19,661 steps
8.19 miles

Tuesday:
£12.50 National Gallery (50% off with Art Pass)
£3 Mall Galleries (50% off withArt Pass)
£2 cookie
£2.39 groceries
14,316 steps
5.87 miles

Wednesday:
£50 top up Oyster
£6 lunch at caff
£6.50 beer at Foyles
£5 talk about Irish in St Giles
16,174 steps
6.63 miles

Thursday:
£12.64 train to Woking
£12.25 Lightbox Gallery and talk
£5.90 tea and brownie
13,140 steps
5.39 miles

Friday:
£1.95 pastel de nata
£9.69 groceries and wine
Royal Academy - free as +1 of member
Serpentine Gallery - free
17,302 steps
7.21 miles

Saturday:
£5.70 farmers' market
£5.95 sandwich at caff
£1.70 groceries
£1 book at charity shop
Heath Robinson Museum - free with Art Pass
13,672 steps
5.91 miles

Sunday:
£8 pies at farmers' market
£1.30 pain aux raisins
12,053 steps
4.97 miles