Saturday, Fenruary 21, 2009
London
Despite going to bed at 11. 30 pm last night, I awoke at 5 am, then forced myself to get back to sleep again as I am afraid that this lack of sleep might not be too good for my health! Luckily, I did doze off and woke up again at 6.45 am at which point my day’s work began.
I started off by drafting a longish response to the collaborative preparation online workshop in which all overseas NYU faculty are currently involved. Responses have been trickling in from Paris and Florence and with Karen having sent in her contribution from London, I thought it was about time I put in my ha’penny’s worth. It took longer than I expected, but it was finally done and I emailed it to my colleagues scattered around our satellite sites in Europe. A call to my parents in Bombay (to whom, for various reasons, I haven’t spoken for a few days) followed, after which I made a Eurostar booking for my trip to Belgium (I shall be visiting Brussels and Bruges) and a Youth Hostel booking for accommodation there. I followed this by another accommodation booking at St. Chrisgtopher’s Inn in Newquay, Cornwall, and finally got down to eating my breakfast while doing my Alternate Soaking–by which point it was a little after 9 am.
A shower followed soon after and then I was leaving my flat to catch the bus to the British Library where the Frank Anthony book that I am seeking is stocked. Only problem is that when I reached the Asian and African section where I have been carrying out the bulk of my reading, I discovered that the book is “off site” in Boston Spa, Yorkshire. Of course, I requested that it be sent to me here in London and since I expect it to arrive on Tuesday, I have earmarked that entire day for research and reading at the library itself–as I might only refer to the book for three days at the library itself.
When I walked out of the Library, the sun was shining gloriously and the world suddenly seemed spring-like. There was still a decided nip in the air but it did nothing to chill the spirits of the vast numbers of people that had taken to the streets to bask in its cheer. What a perfect morning for a walk, I thought, as I rode the bus back home (during which time Llew called me and we had a chat), dropped off my bag and other non-essentials, pulled on a baseball cap and my sunglasses, grabbed my book (24 Great Walks in London) and set off to discover nearby Clerkenwell.
And what a lovely morning I had! The walk is entitled “Monks, Murder and Masons” and it took me into what the book calls “London’s secret village”. Indeed, I would never have ventured into this part of the city were it not for the book and yet the area is in my own backyard! Starting right outside Farringdon Tube Station, it brought me to The Castle, a pub that has the unique distinction of owning two licenses–as a public house and as a pawnbroker! There are three gold balls outside the pub to proclaim this fact. The pawnbroking license was granted to The Castle by the Prince Regent (later George IV) who ran up a huge debt at a near-by cockfighting ring. In despair, he turned to the pub next door and asked the owner if he would accept his gold watch for a loan. Not recognizing his royal patron, the pub owner agreed and money changed hands. The next day, an envoy appeared at the pub with enough money to retrieve the watch and a pawnbroking license which the pub has proudly displayed ever since. I entered the pub to see a painting on the wall that depicts this fascinating story.
Going through a really narrow alleyway that was reminiscent of the novels of Dickens, I arrived at St. John’s Square under a stone gateway that Shakespeare would have known. This lovely gateway that dates from 1504 was once the main entrance to the Priory of the Knights Hospitallers of St. John. Following their dissolution, it became the Office of the Revels. Contemporary dramatists like Shakespeare and Marlowe would have brought their plays here to be licensed for public performance. By 1877, the space was acquired by the organization that evolved into the St. John’s Ambulance Brigade which has branches world-wide. I was able to take a quick look at the small but very interesting museum inside on the ground level though I could not mount the stairs leading to the opulent rooms upstairs, Those could only be visited through a guided tour that began at 2 .15 pm.
The walk continued towards St. James’ Church, Clerkenwell, but since it was closed, I could not visit it. It has been on this site since the Middle Ages but was rebuilt in the 18th century. Just past Clerkenwell Close, I arrived at the Middlesex Sessions Court, a beautiful and very impressive building that, by the middle of the 19th century, had become the busiest courthouse in England. When the courts moved elsewhere, the premises were occupied by the London Masonic Center. As if on cue, just as I arrived there, a stream of suited, booted and tied Freemasons poured out of the building, crossed the street and made their way to a pub at the corner for a noon day tipple.
I, on the other hand, crossed into Farringdon Lane and arrived at the most fascinating part of the walk–the Clerk’s Well–from where the entire area derived its name in the Middle Ages. You can actually see the well or spring which became known as Fons Clericorum. It once gushed forth abundantly and was popular among the locals clerks. Lost for centuries, the well was rediscovered in 1924. It lies below ground level and can be glimpsed through glass windows.
Once in the street called Hatton Garden, the center of London’s diamond district, I found myself gazing at the Police Court that provided the inspiration for a scene in Dickens’ Oliver Twist–though the modern offices on the ground floor belie any of its Victorian antecedents. From there, it was on to The Bleeding Heart Tavern where we once had dinner with Karen and Douglas when Llew was visiting London. The gruesome story that gives the pub its name is probably more a result of legend than reality.
In another five minutes, I was back home for lunch (soup and noodles from Wagamama) and taking a much-needed nap. I wasn’t so much drowsy as tired and decided that a few mintues shut-eye would do me a world of good. I woke up about a half hour later, got dressed and set out again–this time to see the Tate’s Modern collection on the South Bank as the museum stays open until 10 pm on Fridays and Saturdays.
I caught the bus to St. Pau’s, then crossed the Millennium Bridge on foot, astonished at the huge crowds that appeared like black ants ahead of me on the bridge. Clearly, the excellent weather had contributed to the presence of spring fever for people were prancing around light-heartedly and taking pictures galore of the urban scenes on both banks. Within a couple of minutes, by 5.00pm, I was in the gallery gazing upon the gigantic spider in the Main Turbine Hall. This recreation based on the original by Louise Bourgeois made every visitor who entered the gallery stop dead in his tracks and gaze upon the humongous creation.
I decided to spend my time taking in the museum’s permanent collection most of which is on the 3rd and 5th floors. But before I began, I took the lift up to the seventh floors for some of the most gorgeous city views. In fact, on the seventh floor, the viewer is at a height that is almost parallel to the dome of St. Paul’s whose impact is just stunning. I got some really lovely pictures from this angle of the glistening Thames and the large number of sailing craft that plied its waters.
Really pleased with my pictures (because every other time I have been to the Tate the weather has been gloomy and my pictures have appeared suitably grey), I started my exploration of the collection. Among the many famous works that dot the galleries, the one that most struck me was entitled ‘Thirty Pieces of Silver” by Cornelia Parker to whose work I became introduced just a couple of weeks ago at the V&A Museum when I saw her suspended work entitled ‘Breathless’. That one was composed of a collection of trombones, clarinets, trumpets and other wind instruments that she had flattened and then strung from the ceiling where they swung gently like one of Alexander Calder’s mobiles. This one, composed of thousands of pieces of silver that she acquired from junk shops was flattened out by a steam roller. She then composed thirty vignettes comprising trophy cups, cutlery, platters, etc. and has strung them from the ceiling where they simply mesmerized me as they seemed to do some many other visitors. Indeed, a whole large gallery has been devoted to this breathtaking piece of Modern Art with which I found myself connecting instantly. I was also pleased to find Roy Lichtenstein’s “Wham” on display–this is one of Marina Versey’s 100 Masterpieces of Art. I have been trying to see every single one of them in the various musuems around the world where they are on display.
It was 8 pm when I finally finished seeing the permanent collection. I was tired but not exhausted as I had the good sense to use one of the compact folding stools available for the museum’s aged visitors. It proved to be very helpful to me and as I crossed the Millennium Bridge and took the bus back home, I could not help but think how wonderful a day I had spent.
If the weather holds out like this, Stephanie and I will have a lovely time tomorrow–but given the lousy weather we’ve been having for the past three Sundays, I am not holding my breath, and I am sure, neither is she.