Friday, May 8, 2009
London

Chriselle’s main concern was getting her laptop up and running to enable her to work for a few hours in the evenings. When I was unable to connect her to my wireless network, I asked Tim next door to help. He kindly came in at about 9am and got her sorted and with that, the great weight lifted off her mind and she was able to turn her attention to breakfast (toast with marmalade and tea–as she has a marked fondness for tea) before she showered and we were able to get out of my flat by 9.45 to begin our London sightseeing.

The day dawned gray and drizzly. Disappointed, we dressed appropriately and, armed with our brollies, prepared for a wet and breezy day. Good job our first stop was The Queen’s Gallery at Buckingham Palace where I was keen to see those special treasures that her Majesty holds for the nation in her sanctum sanctorum. Chriselle had decided to gamely so along with my plans for the next 3 days as she has the next week to explore London according to her special likes.

The Queen’s Gallery:
Since we both have the 3-day London Pass and 3-day Travelcards, I have chosen sites that I have not yet paid to see–in a attempt to make fullest use of the passes. The Queen’s Gallery maintains a timed entry (allowing just a few visitors to peruse the collection at any given time). We were lucky to be admitted in immediately (at this time of year, that is not unusual, I believe) but were disappointed to hear that the Royal Mews is closed on Fridays. We might not be able to see the collection of carriages that are part of the pomp and pageantry of British royal life.

After going through security (every art gallery and basilica is beginning to feel like an airport these days), we passed through a massive set of doors and faced a really beautiful stairway whose balustrade was adorned with skillfully gilded metal tassels. Once we arrived at the landings, we were given audio guides and ushered through another set of doors that led us to the two large rooms that comprise the Gallery. Paintings and objects d’art (mainly in the form of ornate cabinets) change periodically as do the special exhibits. Like the Queen, who is a famed collector, I have a great fondness for painted porcelain, especially the kind made in the Sevres factory outside Paris in France. So I was disappointed to discover that the gallery is in a state of transition at the moment for a special exhibit on these works which will start later this month.

However, the works we did see in two rooms were truly impressive and made the visit worthwhile. Of special note, were a number of scenes of Venice by Canaletto, four gigantic works by Peter Paul Reubens (mainly collected by Charles I and later Queen Victoria), a few portraits of Charles I and his wife Henrietta Maria painted by his court painter Anthony Van Dyke, a really beautiful portrait of Queen Victoria as a little girl by her drawing tutor (whose name I wish I could remember) and–this was the highlight of the visit for us–a number of jewel-studded items gifted to the royal family and The East India Company by India’s erstwhile Maharajas during the days of the Raj. I was pleased to note that most of them were gifts and not ‘plunder’ to which the British Raj fancied itself entitled. Even so, the size of the emeralds in a pearl-studded belt had to be seen to to be believed and the pair of diamond drop ear-rings and matching brooch that were gifted to the late Queen Mother were another stunning aspect of the items on display.

The Changing of the Guard:
Since the collection was rather small (even though very significant), we were still able to catch part of the ceremony of the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace where, we found that, mercifully, it had stopped raining and we were actually able to see some activity in the the large court yard. Indeed, by the time we crossed the street in front of the sculpture of Queen Victoria, the sun made an appearance and we were able to get pictures with blue skies in them! It made Chriselle remark that if you don’t like the weather in London, you can wait for five minutes–it really was a quick-change artist!

Down The Mall we walked, still feeling jaunty and full of energy, past the back of St. James’ Palace. Needless to say, I kept up a running commentary as I pointed out the sights to her, amazed myself at how much I now know about London. Crossing The Mall, we entered St. James’ Park (at which point we received a call from Llew on my cell phone–which, miraculously, I heard–just getting ready to start work in the States) and since, for some inexplicable reason, both of us were already starving, we found a bench overlooking the duck pond (where we were instructed not to feed the “wild fowl”–a term that would never have been used in the States), we ate the sandwiches I had prepared at home before setting out.

I have to be rather creative with meals, as Chriselle is a vegetarian. I, therefore, threw in everything I could find in my fridge–which this morning comprised, multi grain bread with mayonnaise, parmesan cheese and a pear (that I sliced and drizzled over with balsamic vinegar). Even I was surprised what a delicious sandwich this made. With our feet well rested, we started off again.

The Horse Guards and the Banqueting House:
Our next destination was the Banqueting House (as I was keen for Chriselle to see Peter Paul Reubens’ ceiling as commissioned by Charles I in memory of his father James I who is the main character in the centerpiece medallion). This meant that she had the opportunity to pass by the Horse Guards and click pictures with them–a matter that called to mind much earlier visits to the city when she was just nine-years old, in the company of my brother Roger.

The short film we saw on the ground floor of the Banqueting House introduced her to the history of the place. I, of course, had just seen the film two weeks ago, when my friend Loreen was visiting from Connecticut. And I realize again how little this building is visited and how important it is–architecturally (it is the work of Inigo Jones who revolutionalized English architecture after his return from Italy where he was influenced by Andrea Palladio), historically (it was from this building that Charles I was led to his execution) and artistically (it is the only building in the world that has Reubens’ ceiling paintings in situ. Chriselle gasped when she saw the ceiling for the first time after we had climbed to the first floor and was entirely engrossed in the commentary that we heard on audio wands. It was interesting to note the items that she wanted to photograph and, in a way, it was fun to see these places through her fresh and fascinated eyes.
The Churchill Museum, the Cabinet War Rooms and the England at War Exhibition:
Our next stop was the St. James’ Park end of Whitehall where I had been waiting for Chriselle’s arrival to visit the underground Cabinet War Rooms–this, I believed, would be the highlight of our day. And I was not disappointed. It was my student Kristen who, last semester, had told me how incredibly fascinating it had been to her and how I must not miss this attraction. Having never seen these rooms before, I did not intend to leave London without visiting them. I was glad that Chriselle was as enthusiastic as I was and, before long, we found ourselves underground in the world of the 1940’s that somehow brought to my mind the setting and ethos of the British detective series Foyle’s War.

The first room that greets visitors is the one used throughout the war by the Cabinet War Committee among whom the names of Churchill and Clement Atlee were the only ones familiar to me (Atlee succeeded Churchill as Prime Minister after the War and presided over the transfer of power at the time of the Independence of India). I had goosebumps while looking at the wooden swivel chair that Churchill used in the middle of this gathering. Everything has been left exactly as it was on the last day the room was used and it was strangely evocative of the inter-continental intrigues of that epoch.

The rest of the warren of underground rooms showed us the quarters of the many chiefs of staff and their administrative assistants–all of whom had cramped rooms, furnished in a utilitarian fashion with banker’s lamps in each room, maps on the wall–many still tracing the progress of important mid-century military campaigns–and even the room used by Mrs. Churchill–which, in a single seater sofa, was the only piece of furniture with a floral print! It stood out oddly in that stark environment. Also interesting was a copy of Picture Post of that era with a rather rare feature inside depicting the First Lady in her domestic milieu inside 10 Downing Street–a sort of early version of People or Hello magazine!

It was interesting to see Churchill’s engagement book that contained signatures of George VI and the current Queen entered in 1942 (long before she became Queen) and it occurred to me afresh (a fact that the film The Queen had brought to my attention) how many Prime Ministers have served during her reign! What a history of the century she encompasses within her own 80 years!

What was also interesting to me (if somewhat annoying) is the knowledge that while the rest of the country (indeed the rest of Europe) staggered under severe rationing laws, “making do” for years on end, Churchill wined and dined like a king, his daily menus comprising several courses including Beef Wellington and gallons of rich port wine and expensive bubbly! Ah, the privileges of the powerful.

Another really amazing aspect of this exhibit is a trans-Atlantic telephonic conversation that we could listen in to between President Truman of the US and Churchill discussing the progress of Himmler across Europe and the strategy designed to stop him. The accents, the diction, the style of expression, the odd formality that existed between these two so-called ‘close friends’ was antiquated and, therefore, deeply amusing, but it gave me goose flesh again to actually hear their voices and listen carefully to the stress and concern contained within them. (“No,no,no,no,no,no,no, we can’t do that. Especially when it is Himmler we’re talking about”). This is easily a place in which one could spend a whole day and I am not surprised that Kristen found it so compelling. I am so glad I finally saw the circumstances in which the fate of Europe and the world was decided and I am so gratified that these rooms have been preserved in this fantastic manner (thanks largely to the Imperial War Museum) as a gift to future generations.

Jewel Tower:
Since we were doing really well for time and the weather had suddenly turned so appealing, we decided to walk towards Parliament Square and see Jewel Tower which is run by the English Heritage and is open to London Pass holders. Llew and I had taken a self-guided walking tour entitled “Royal London” that had once guided us past this rather squat tower opposite the Houses of Parliament–but since we hadn’t climbed it then, it made sense for us to ‘cover’ it on this outing.

Passing by the exterior of the Houses of Parliament, I pointed out to Chriselle the Visitor Entrance to the sessions in both Houses and suggested that she return next week to sit in on one of them. The friendly copper outside informed us that the next sittings of both Houses will be on Monday and Tuesday from 2. 30 till 10 pm and Chriselle decided to return on Tuesday. I was also able to point out to her the “Sovereign’s Entrance” at the side which rather tickled me because while the rest of the world has the right to walk into Parliament and overhear the debates, the reigning monarch does not–he/she must knock on the ceremonial doors and request permission to enter–a custom that harks back to the days of the Magna Carta when the sovereign interfered too much in the running of Parliament–I know that I am putting this rather simplistically and there is a more complicated piece of history here that is worthy of recounting and I must look it up online.

The Jewel Tower itself is named for the fact that the Tower which was constructed in the reign of Edward III (mid 1200s) housed the royal wardrobe, part of which included the jewel- encrusted crown. 44 steps take visitors to the top along a winding spiral stone stairway that was reminiscent to me of Delhi’s Qutub Minar (at a time when visitors could climb all the way to the top, as a little girl, I had been way up there) and to Chriselle of the fairy tales she had read as a child–chiefly Rapunzel! The small exhibit upstairs was not noteworthy and after we took in the views of busy Parliament Square below us, we descended.

The Cavalry Guards Museum:
Chriselle did not need to get home until 5 pm when she needed to log on and connect with her New York team to get some work done. This, we realized, left us enough time to see the Cavalry Guards Museum which is also included in the London Pass and which faces the Horse Guards Parade. This rather small exhibit showed us the livery used by man and horse and the role played by these ceremonial guards with whom the public has posed for decades. It is the plumes, the swords, indeed the regalia, that give British royalty so much of an aura. The stables in which the horses are well looked after (we actually saw two rather quiet ones taking their rest) are also on exhibit and we could walk past the stalls and take all these sights in. Because these spaces are rather compact, however, they did not take too long to peruse and we were out rather sooner than we expected.

By Tube to Apsley House:
With time still on our side (it was only a little past 3.00 pm), we decided to take the Tube to Hyde Park Corner to see Apsley House (which I had toured a few years ago but which I was keen for Chriselle to see). This stately mansion with its beige facade dominates the circle around Wellington’s Arch and has always been one of my favorite London manors. It was gifted by a grateful nation to Arthur Wellesley, the Duke of Wellington (whose much less-liked and less-popular brother Richard had been the Governor-General of India) upon his victory at the Battle of Waterloo that ended the dynamic campaigns of France’s Napoleon across Europe. Since it was situated at the very point of entry into the city, it’s address was simply No 1 London–an address it still retains!

Inside, the visitor is given an audio guide which allowed us to negotiate our way through rooms that were crammed with paintings and sculpture beginning with the towering one of Napoleon by Antonio Canova in the landing on the ground floor that leads up to the marvelous Robert Adams’ designed stairway. The floor had to be reinforced with a supportive pillar beneath it to take the massive weight of this marble sculpture that presents a young and very athletic Napoleon in Roman guise complete with spear in his hand and sandals on his feet. It is an immensely striking sculpture and one whose image has stayed with me from my last visit to this room.

Wellesley was a master general (some would say the best England has ever had) with a gifted aesthetic side to his personality and he amassed a multitude of paintings, many so significant that the Long Gallery contains works by Old Masters that would make the National Gallery envious! There were Carravaggios and Canalettos from Italy, Jose Riberas, Velasquezes and Murillos from Spain, Jan Steens, Peter de Hoochs and Breugels the Elder from among the Flemish cohort and indeed a number of English artists including Van Dyke –all of which would take another age to see in detail. For me, the highlight of this mansion is the sterling silver centerpiece on the Dining Table that runs along its entire length–a gift from Portugal to Wellesley as the defeat of Napoleon had been a joint venture between England, Spain and Portugal. We enjoyed our visit here very much indeed and though Chriselle was concerned about the time and ensured we left there by 4. 30, she had a very pleasant visit indeed.

Back on the Tube, I showed her how to use it (so that she can find her way around the city on her own once I leave for Paris and find her way back to my building on the Central Line). Though I was quite wiped out by the time I reached home, she logged on to her computer, while I set off for Bedford Square to pick up the sheaf of papers that my students have left for me to grade as their semester winds down and final exams begin next week. It is a profoundly busy and stressful time for them and as my grading work begins, I am still trying to fit in as much time with Chriselle as possible.

Duet for One at the West End:
Back from campus, I managed a very short nap as both of us would be going out again for the evening. I had booked us tickets to see Juliet Stevenson and Henry Goodman in Tom Kempinski’s Duet for One at the Vaudeville Theater and when we got there by Tube at 7. 30, we were just in time for a performance that swept us off our feet with its histrionic virtuosity, masterful direction and excellent script.

Indeed it was a marvelous night at the theater. Though Stevenson’s role as Keira Knightley’s mother in Bend It like Beckham had first brought her to our attention, it was in this play where she played a violinist afflicted by multiple sclerosis and battling the ghosts of her past, that we realized how gifted an actor she is and how wide is her range. Indeed, she was superbly supported by Goodman who, in a much quieter portrayal as her therapist, also had his occasional outbursts that brought vitality to his role. Indeed, we could not have had a more memorable night in a London theater.

A Night Out on the Town for Chriselle:
Throughout the evening, Chriselle had been on my cell phone with her friend Rahul whom she had once known as a child in Bombay. He moved to London to work for a hedge fund and she was renewing contact with him after years. He invited her to spend the evening out with his friends and taking the bus to St. Paul’s from The Strand, I dropped Chriselle into his hands and took the bus back home as I was seriously pooped and couldn’t wait to hit my bed.

She woke me up at 3 am to tell me that despite the fact that I had given her a key, the magnetic tag would not open the door of our building downstairs. I dressed quickly and went down to open the door for her and at 3. 15, we were both back in bed again at the end of what had been an astonishing day for her in every possible respect.