12th January Pictures at an Exhibition Mussorgsky and ELP
I got up early, startled by the sound of my
neighbour’s alarm clock. His name was Dave, a musician from Birmingham, (Good
lad!) who was on his way to New Zealand. Now that is what I love about
hostelling; you get to meet people from all over the world. This is especially
the case because of the dormitory arrangements with L-shaped bunk beds, close
together but not too claustrophobic. You definitely get to hear all of the night-time
sounds of people sleeping and . . . well
I am sure you get the picture.
Tim, an American from Detroit, who conversed with
me over breakfast, was on his way to Cairo but had been delayed due to flight
problems. Tim talked about opera and of his fondness of cigars. Indeed he was
thrilled to be in London as he had just met Billy Connolly the previous day in
a famous cigar emporium near to St James’ Palace. This shop had been the same
place where Winston Churchill had got his cigars from; Berry Brothers &
Rudd, so Tim told me. I must look that up to see what truth there is in his tale.
Was it Winston's cigar that fell out of his two fingers that left him giving the
famous V for Victory salute to Hitler?
Now talking of breakfast, YHA breakfasts are
great! Full English, with coffee on tap or tea or fruit juice from various
fruits, followed or proceeded by cereal, toast, cheese and ham. All that is
required by a cycling man.
Right! Call me mean! Call me frugal or
obstinate but £12.50 to go into a place of worship is a little steep.
Turnstiles to go into a church! French security guards. I complained and whined
that I had not the cash. I claimed that the famous Barnaby Bear I was carrying,
one of the cuddly toys accompanying me on the bike, wanted to see inside but I
still ended up in the Chapter House of St Paul's Cathedral to register an
opinion.
In fact to give the Archbishop of Canterbury
his due, for it was to him that I emailed my complaint to, he did reply a few days
later. Well the response was from his secretary actually. The secretary's name
was Andrew Nunn. Just ponder that name for a moment, will you please? Andrew
stated that the Bishop was aware of my concerns and quoted historical
precedents. A polite and long missal, and therefore dismissal of my request for
a membership scheme similar to the National Trust or English Heritage. He
stated that the church had a long-standing history of charging pilgrims for
entry. Business is business but I could not help feeling closer to God later in
the day when walking through the free ‘Sacred in Art’ exhibition at the
National Gallery. One thought in St Paul’s favour though is that when they had
a voluntary donation scheme, the average donation was 8p per visitor.
Another long stroll along the Strand got me
to Trafalgar Square and into The National Gallery. Now you may be wondering why
I was spending the day in the city instead of cycling through it. Well the
weather, the heavy snow, had affected my itinerary and having already decided
that I could visit Wallasea Island RSPB reserve in December on my return to the
area, instead of now, I had got a couple of days spare.
Therefore I spent the time visiting my
favourite places in London, including spending hours in the National Gallery
looking at the famous artworks. Those art works by ‘you name them, they’ve got
some paintings by them,’ included Degas, Picasso, Van Gogh’s ‘Sunflowers,
Cezanne, Monet and Manet, Leonardo da Vinci’s Virgin and Child) Goya and
Turner. To see Turner’s Fighting Temeraire, a huge, tall ship from the Battle
of Trafalgar, on its way to destruction as a setting sun sets over the Thames,
was thrilling. The paint on closer inspection had a 3D quality to it, that one
will never get to see other than when standing before the original, with the
paint standing out from the canvas. An interesting large piece entitled
'Hoerengracht' by Keinholz was extremely different, depicting Amsterdam's
prostitutes in cookie tin hats. I wondered what old masterpieces would look
like without cracked oil paint.
A school party from St James's School,
Pettswood, Bromley in Kent were having a guide explain Titian's Bacchus &
Ariadne. On first seeing the piece I wondered why there were a few stars were
in the top right corner. By the end of standing to the side of the children and
listening in I knew. It was a reward for Ariadne marrying the God Bacchus. Ariadne
would become a constellation. The children were so well behaved. Their teachers
and parents could be rightly proud of them. The children's answers to the Gallery
staff's questions were succinct and intelligent. As a teacher myself, when not galivanting
around the country, it was a pleasure to observe and learn.
Lunch, provided by me but taken in the Gallery café, was pleasant with conversation about cricket and teaching provided by two lovely people, Bernard & Ursula McCarthy. Bernard was a retired Head, Ursula was a retired 'chalk face' Primary school teacher.
Into the National Portrait
Gallery next door, I stopped to look at the Tudor portraits, so famous as
either stamps or as photographs in many a history textbook for schools. Here
was Henry VIII with all of his wives together in the only way they could be,
lined up on a wall. A procession of beautiful ladies, their eyes followed me
forlornly, each now aware of their fate.
Divorced, beheaded, survived.
There was also a painting of Elizabeth the First with Cranmer,
so many photographs and paintings of the famous, yet it was a poignant photograph
of an eyeless boy from Vietnam that I will always remember the most. A boy with
no eyes, born that way with just skin where eyes would have been and all as a
result of the chemical weapons used in the Vietnam War.
I
spent the rest of the day walking around London, finally ending up in an
internet café on the Tottenham Court Road. With my blog done, bikingbirder2010.blogspot.com,
and emails answered, no way was I going to use carbon transport. Therefore I
walked along The Strand and explored the area around the Monument. This tall,
golden ball topped column had been erected to commemorate the Great Fire of
London back in 1666. From there it was a short walk back at the youth hostel
for an early night.
