Monday = Museum Day

Monday's destinations were entirely on page 35 of my Mapguide (the one I thought I'd lost, but found wedged between my mattress and headboard at home). First stop was Somerset House, where I'd intended to see Night Paintings by Paul Benney, in the Deadhouse below the fountain court. After looking at the first four or five paintings, I came to a tape barrier. Turning around, I saw another tape barrier back by where I'd come in. I asked, and was told that they'd had a water leak in the lightwells and needed to close the rest of the exhibition, probably until the weekend. This was disappointing -- not so much because I was dying to see the rest of the paintings, which I'm sure were interesting, but because there are a bunch of 17th century tombs down in the Deadhouse that I'd wanted to see. With rain coming tomorrow and lasting the rest of the week, I don't think they'll be reopening any time soon. While I was at Somerset House, I also checked out the Nelson staircase and two small exhibitions (British illustration and Vidal Sassoon). 

Next, the London Transport Museum, which I'd never visited before. Amidst the absolute din and chaos of screaming, running school children, I followed the history of London transport (boats, buses and trains) from the mid-19th century to the present. When I reached the final level, at last I was able to go to the exhibition I'd really come to see -- Mind the Map, about graphic design, maps and posters for the Underground. It was blissfully quiet in the exhibition rooms, as I was the only person there. It was well worth enduring the cacophony of kiddies to reach the exhibition, and the rest of the museum was pretty good as well, even for non-trainspotters like me. 

I grabbed a quick lunch at Tesco Metro and ate in the churchyard of St Paul's Covent Garden. Then, on to the British Museum for Shakespeare: Staging the World, a fascinating array of paintings, printed material, and artefacts related to Shakespeare's times and to the subjects of his plays. This exhibition was crowded with pensioners, who are quieter the school kiddies, but due to their failing eyesight (and the general dimness of the lighting), they tend to stand about 6 inches in front of every piece. It's amazing that some of the things they had on display have survived all this time, particularly the tapestries and clothing. 

It was 4:30 when I left the BM, and I figured it was best to get out of central London before the rush hour, so I hopped the No. 7 to Paddington Station and then the No. 36 back to Maida Hill. 

Today, I'm off to Fulham Palace, then bits of Chelsea, and ultimately to the Guess Where London (Flickr group) meet-up at a pub in the City. I'll be wearing my best walking shoes (blister update: it's much better now). 

Stats:
13,747 steps (5.42 miles)
Expenses:
£13.50 admission to the Transport Museum
£2.15 lunch (egg and cress on brown bread and a beverage)
£1.89 pint of yogurt from the supermarket since Roger's supply was running low
(Used R's BM membership card to get into the Shakespeare exhibition free)

Rambling through Kensington

This year's Serpentine Pavilion, designed by Ai Weiwei and Herzog & de Meuron, was a bit of a disappointment. The concept is intriguing -- they dug down to reveal the foundations of the eleven previous pavilions, and incorporated them into the design of the tiered subterranean seating, covered with cork. There are also some little stools (probably the tops of foundation posts, that look like mushrooms or champagne corks. The "roof," about 4 feet above ground level, is a shallow oval pond. I'm sure that the space functions far better than last year's pavilion, with its four dark wooden corridors, but I missed the fun of the color and reflections of previous pavilions. But it was a beautiful day for a walk through Kensington Gardens, so I'm not going to complain too much. 

I got my chance to photograph some really ace reflections when we strolled down Exhibition Road. Tony Cragg's sculptures -- including one super shiny, curvy-wurvy one -- dot the road. I do love me a good reflection.

Next stop was Christie's in Old Brompton Road, where we went to see the Multiplied 2012 contemporary print art fair. Tempting as it was, we didn't buy anything. But I really loved the pop art prints of Amy Winehouse, by Gerald Laing, especially one with her hair tied up in a bandana, cigarette hanging out of her mouth, and pushing a Hoover. I got the postcard.

We then walked down to Brompton Cemetery, so that I could tick another of the Magnificent Seven on my list. (This was the fourth for me, having done Abney Park, Kensal Green, and part of Highgate.) Not as overgrown and creepy as Abney Park, nor as full of over-the-top Victorian tombs as Kensal Green, but the late afternoon light was glowing and lovely for a few moments so there were a few nice photo ops. 

I started this post with one whinge, and I'll end with another: I've got a blister on the ball of my left foot. I've slapped a blister plaster on it, and will carry more with me in case the other foot goes down the same path. I'm getting soft in my old age. 

Today, I'm heading out on my own for Central London to take in some museums and stuff.

Stats:
18,836 steps (7.43 miles)
Expenses:
£1.50 for apples at the Queen's Park Farmers' Market
£4 for sandwich in the caff at Christie's
£1.50 for 2 cans of coconut water

Wide Eyed

They should make me the poster person for JetZone, the homeopathic jet lag prevention "medicine" that I impulse-purchased at Deals and Steals and tossed into my carry-on bag. I chewed the little tabs (sugar pills) as directed before, during and immediately after my flight. It didn't help me to get more than 2 hours of sleep on the plane, but it -- plus a mighty big cup of coffee -- kept my alert and moving all day Saturday until I finally crashed around 10:30 pm.  I did wake up in the early hours of morning and couldn't get back to sleep for 2 hours (I'm putting that down to all the spicy food I ate at Tayyab's as much as to jet lag), but then slept till 9:30 am, and now feel that I'm successfully adjusted to BST. 

We worked in everything on my Saturday list, and then some. Starting our adventures at Old Street, we made our way towards the Moniker Art Fair at the Village Underground, zigzagging through Hoxton and Shoreditch to see street art, including several pieces by Stik, one of my favorite street artists. We saw some new things (Hoxton Square, Rivington Street, and the Leonard Street carpark), and some new-to me pieces (Stik's studio in Pitfield Street, and a community centre in Parfett Street). We also saw a paint-not-quite-dry mural by Shepard Fairey, called "Shoplifters Welcome," in Ebor Street, very near Boxpark, which was another of my destinations. Boxpark is a condensed shopping area, with small stores all in a series of shipping containers assembled on two levels. I was interested in seeing it because of my current penchant for creative reuse and because the Pie Minister is there, and I've been thinking all year about that lovely Heidi pie (winter squash and goat's cheese with savory herbs) that I had last October so I needed to pick one up to eat later in the week. 

Of the indoor art we saw at the Moniker Art Fair and at the Whitechapel Gallery, my two favorite works involved small taxidermied mammals. I usually don't go in for that sort of stuff, but these were great (and I'm just telling myself that the wee critters were road kill, not intentionally sacrificed for the art). At Moniker, Nancy Fouts, a 68-year old American artist who works in the UK, had a piece called "Rabbit with Curlers." At the Whitechapel Gallery was Maurizio Cattelan's Bidibidobidiboo, a miniature family kitchen with a squirrel that has committed suicide slumped at the table. There, we also saw some conceptual stuff, which I don't pretend to understand -- this year's Bloomberg Commission by Guiseppe Penone, and paintings and installations by Mel Bochner, the best of which was a series of colorful word paintings (imagine Sol LeWitt works with text instead of lines). 

An early dinner at Tayyab's finished off our day out in the East End.

Stats:
20,659 steps (8.15 miles)
Expenses:
£20 to top up my Oyster card
£4 for two tote bags at Moniker Art Fair
£3.50 for Heidi pie
£1 for postcards at the Whitechapel Gallery
Spooner treated me to mid-afternoon tea and to dinner 

The Eagle has (re)landed

Tenth trip to Blighty, and one of the smoothest journeys so far. I landed at 6:25 am and was at Spooner's front door by 8:15. Absolutely no queue at immigration, which is unheard of. There's something to be said for coming into Terminal 4, though I'd still rather be on Virgin Atlantic than on Delta (DEfinitely Lacking Travel Amenities). 

I'm now cleaned up and caffeinated and ready to head out to explore. We're off to the East End to go to the Moniker Art Fair, to see the new streetart in Shoreditch, possibly to take in whatever is at the Whitechapel Gallery, and then to eat at Tayyab. It's a bit chilly, but the sky is blue and the sun is shining.  Full report to follow. 

Yesterday's stats:
3127 steps (1.23 miles) and a lot of sitting
$2.40 for Mass Pike toll
$22.00 for return ticket on Logan Express airport bus

A Daytrip with a (Re)purpose

All summer, I’ve been on a mission – which I’ve approached with great (secular) zeal – to repurpose stuff that’s been hanging around my house far too long. While I still have my physical and mental faculties, I want to de-clutter in a responsible, and even creative, way. So far, I’ve given my mandolin to a music camp, a chair that came from Ellen Emerson House and a mirror frame (no glass) to a friend who does whimsical furniture painting, a garden cart and a few tools to the new organic community garden near me, and a perfectly good (though hated by my cats) litter box to Dakin Animal Shelter. I’ve taken dead electronics to two recycling events, and two boxes of documents, including cancelled checks going back to 1976, to the Council on Aging’s shredding fundraiser. This week’s mission was to haul my old darkroom equipment out of my crawl space in the cellar and up to Brattleboro to donate it to the Vermont Center for Photography’s upcoming tag sale. So yesterday, I loaded up the Mini and headed north.

Brattleboro hasn’t changed much since the last time I was there, which must have been 10 years ago. The Common Ground, a worker-owned vegetarian restaurant upstairs on Elliot Street, has closed. I remember going there with a friend from grad school who ordered vegetable juice, and the look of horror on her face when a hippie handed her a frothy glass of liquid the color of beets. On Main Street, you can still find a proper hardware store, a big old post office, the Latchis hotel and theatre (a real movie house, which sadly Northampton doesn’t have any more). There are lots of little shops selling second-hand LPs, books, furniture and clothes. Tattoo parlors, a music store, various hippie/mystic emporiums, a few bars and non-chain coffee houses fill in the rest of Main, Elliot and High streets. What I’d forgotten is just how hilly and precipitous Brattleboro is. The buildings on the east side of Main are perched above the Connecticut River, with porches, decks and additions looking like they’ll topple into the river when the waters rise with the spring thaw. Every street to the west of Main heads uphill with an incline made for a goat. I cruised through a couple of stop signs for fear that the Mini would roll 20 feet backwards downhill, or that I’d pop the clutch and stall out. O, for the flat hills of my homeland! After dropping off the darkroom gear on the aptly-named (thank goodness!) Flat Street, I landed the Mini in a relatively hill-free parking space off the High Street.

A tasty lunch at the Blue Moose, plus use of their loo and free wi-fi, calmed my flatlander nerves. I headed downhill on foot, exploring various alleys off Main Street. I found a lot of graffiti and broken booze bottles down by the railroad tracks. Not great streetart by Shoreditch/Spitalfields standards, but a bit more interesting than the stuff I see in Northampton.

I ended the day with a stop the Brattleboro Museum and Art Center, which I’m ashamed to say I’d never visited. They have a fab exhibition of Stephen Hannock’s paintings on right now. The museum is located in the lovely old train station.

The station itself is now just a waiting area next to the tracks.