Tag Archive | Tate Modern

Columbia Road Flower Market, St. Paul’s Cathedral, Lunch in Maida Vale, Tate Modern Museum, Burning of London 1666 Barge

Sep5

Sunday, September 4, 2016

London

I had such an eventful happy day–but at the end of it, I was so wiped out that I did not even chat with Llew before I fell asleep while watching Beck on my laptop

Morning Accomplishments:

Since I am not going to be in this neck of the London woods long, I am trying to finish up my visits to places near at hand. So I finished blogging, showered, had a slice of toast with peanut butter and decaff coffee and left the house on time as I had wanted to do–at 9. 15 am. Thankfully, there were more folks on the street at 9. 15 than there had been at 8.00 am, a few weeks ago, while I had stood waiting for a bus to get to church

Off to the Columbia Road Flower Market:

A bus to Bethnal Green came in a few minutes. I hopped in, got off at York Hall, then crossed the street to sail along Cambridge Heath Road towards Hackney. One stop later, I got off, took another bus going towards Oxford Street and after asking the driver for help to find the right stop, I got off.

A short walk down two lanes and I was at the hippest place to be on a Sunday morning in London: the Columbia Road Flower Market. This would be my third time there–the first time had been mid-week (when it was dead), the second had been on a Sunday morning, a year or two ago with Llew. On Sunday morning, this area revives with shops lining  a narrow street doing brisk business. The main attraction ,however, is a street market that only sells flowers and plants. It is as if Covent Garden of a century ago has moved East. For some reason, flower-buying is associated with high incomes–you only buy flowers when you’re feeling flush, I suppose. So, as a result of the flower power, local businesses that line the street have focused on high-end goods: exclusive interior design items such as glass tables and velvet cushions, items for the garden and for gardeners (such as rose-sprigged spades and trowels), super luxurious jewelry (using real semi-precious stones), high quality croissants, artisanal bread and unique jams and spreads. There are musicians busking (more shades of Covent Garden)–playing guitars and singing, there is coffee–lots of it!

I walked through the aisles filled with flowers and sweetly scented ones too. I wasn’t buying any flowers myself but I was quite amazed at the prices. Everything was reasonably priced and the dealers were quite amenable to making deals. I picked up a potted cyclamen for my friend Rose to whose home I had been invited for lunch. And after an hour of browsing through the shops and the flower stalls, I bought myself a meat and vegetable-filled Cornish pasty which I munched on the way to the bus stop as I suddenly felt peckish. It was absolutely delicious.

On the Bus to St. Paul’s:

I arrived at the bus stop, looked up the routes offered and found a 26 that would take me straight to St. Paul’s Cathedral as that was my next port of call. I needed to get there for the 11.00 Commemoration Service for the Great Fire of London of 1666. The sermon was to be preached by the Bishop of London, Richard Chartres, and I was keen to listen to what he had to say.

I loved the bus ride at that still early hour of the morning when East Enders had not quite woken up. On the top front and center seat, I continued munching my pasty and watched Shoreditch pass me by.  In fact, I passed the church that is in the Oranges and Lemons poem: “When will you grow rich? say the Bells of Shoreditch”. This formerly gritty part of the East End has gentrified rapidly and today is host to a number of hip clubs, gastropubs, wine bars, designer outlets, etc. It is the new spot for hanging out among young folk. That gentrification has not yet reach Bethnal Green–but give it another 10 years and this place might be unrecognizable.

Commemoration Service at St. Paul’s Cathedral:

The front of the Cathedral was already packed when I jumped off the bus and entered it. For a moment, I wondered if royalty was present to mark the event–but I did not think so. The service lasted 75 minutes and involved marked contribution by the choir. What was very interesting was that it included about four readings from diaries of the time (1666) penned by such well-known jotters as Samuel Pepys and John Evelyn. They had a modern-day baker, a modern-day firefighter, the Assistant Mayor of London and a prelate of St. Paul’s read and after each reading, the choir sang. It was very solemn and very evocative of the tragedy and horror of the Great Fire and also of the resilience of Londoners that urged them on to the create the modern city we know and love today.

The Bishop’s sermon, which was the reason I attended, was very good indeed. I do wish the sound system were better–it kept echoing quite annoyingly and robbed his delivery of tis clarity. Still, all said, it was great to know that the insurance system (that is a multi-billion pound business today) was only introduced to London after the Fire. The Bishop referred, of course, to the horrific destruction of the old Cathedral. The flames and the heat were so great that it melted the lead off the roof which then came pouring down upon the street in rivers and sent the stones flying all over the place. These stones, I later learned on TV in the evening, are still preserved in the basement of the building as many of them date from Roman times.

Tours of the Dome were offered to anyone wishing to avail of the opportunity right after the service and had I not had a luncheon appointment right away at Maida Vale, I’d have taken it. I have, of course, been on the dome myself in years gone by–once on my own and once with Chriselle–and it is always a fun experience to pick out London’s spires, rooftops and now iconic skyscrapers and identify them, especially on a clear day. But today, I had to press on…

On the Tube to Maida Vale:

I was invited to lunch by my new friend Rose who lives in Maida Vale and who wanted me to meet her American friend, Carol, who is on a Sabbatical too from her teaching position at the University of New Haven in Maine. Since Carol’s friend, Harriet, from Virginia, happened to be visiting her, she would be there too. I thought it would be fun to meet some fellow-American academics…so I looked forward to the afternoon.

As it turned out, I had no need to hurry. The Tube line from St. Paul’s took me to Oxford Circus from where I switched to the Bakerloo Line going north and stepped off at Maida Vale station–a very pretty and very old-fashioned station indeed which still retains its original small tile mosaic work on the walls and its green and white alternating checkered bands of tile on the walls.

Rose lives less than a New York block from the Tube station in one of the lovely gracious old Victorian buildings that fill this area: my friend Raquel lived in a similar building at St. John’s Wood on the Abbey Road Beatles Crossing and having stayed at her place on two occasions in the years gone by, I can assure you that these flats are huge and quite gorgeous inside.

I arrived before Rose and her guests returned from church themselves! For a moment, I wondered if I had the timing wrong–then I remembered that I had spoken to her yesterday to confirm our meeting. There was no other explanation: they had not yet reached home. I settled myself on a low brick wall to wait and in about five minutes, they came down the road.

Lunch with Rose and New Friends:

Rose was the perfect hostess, generous to a fault. She served us drinks (wine for one, water for the other, elderflower cordial for me) and vegetable crisps that are so delicious. Needless to say, Carol, Harriet and I got on like a house on fire as we quickly discovered our mutual passion for London and our thirst to discover its last nook and cranny. They have spent most of the last month scouring lesser-known parts of the city (the Transport Depot at Acton, for instance, and the Brunel Museum in Bermondsey–where they live). From me, they learned about the Linley-Sanborne House of which they had never heard. In like manner, as Rose prepared our meal, we talked about everything–the research projects we are working on, the American election, etc, etc.

Rose’s lunch was lovely: she started us off with a salad plate filled with salmon mousse, tomatoes and cucumbers–artfully arranged on individual plates bursting with color. Her meal centered on Chicken Curry and rice with side dishes of zucchini and spinach with chickpeas. Everything was good and it was nice to eat rice and curry in a real Indian home! For dessert, she brought out the most appealing Pear and Chocolate Tart from M&S–which we all loved. The meal was elegant, tasty and heartwarming and it cemented the new fledging friendships that were being formed. It was hard to believe that it had turned 4.00 pm and since no one wanted tea or coffee, we got up to leave right then and there. I am delighted to have made these new friends. Although Harriet is leaving for the US soon, I hope to find a companion in Carol in October when I shall resume by city surveying again

On the Tube to the Tate:

My next destination was the Tate Modern Museum on the South Bank of the Thames where I had made plans to meet Alisha, the lovely, talented and very brilliant daughter of my Connecticut friends, Anup and Laureen. Alisha is a management consultant for Deloitte and has been working in London for almost 10 years–and has no intention of ever returning to the US to work! I know her well from my previous stays and visits to London and when she offered to use her membership to get me into the Georgia O’Keefe exhibition at the Tate (for which one ordinarily needs to buy a ticket), I was game!

Subsequently, I crossed Wobbly Bridge on a day when the whole of the city’s tourist crowd was filled with excitement. Later in the evening, the recreated City of London 1666 which presently stood on a barge on the Thames would be set alight and burned–an eerie re-enactment of the burning of the city 350 years ago. Alisha and I would have loved to actually watch it happen and she suggested the Members Lounge at the Tate which we thought would have late opening hours

Bhupen Khakkar and Goergia O’Keefe at the Tate Modern:

I hooked up with Alisha outside the special retrospective exhibition on the works of Bhupen Khakkar. I have seen loads of O’Keefe’s works on several occasions–in New York and at the Georgia O’Keefe Museum in Santa Fe, New Mexico. What I really did want to see was the Khakkar as he is a very well-reputed Indian artist whose work I have rarely seen.

The Khakkar exhibit is very powerful indeed. It features the work of an artist who died a few years ago and who belonged to the Baroda School of Painting. His work exposes his own demons–his struggle with his homosexuality, his battle with prostate cancer that took his life, his longing to fit into the sophisticated world of international art despite his humble beginnings, etc. His canvasses are large, his colors explode in vivid hues, his Indianness is plainly evident in the motifs he selects–mariegold flowers, coconut palm fronds, etc. to flesh out his backgrounds. As an introduction to his work, I found it vastly interesting.

With half an hour to spare before the museum closed, we moved on to the O’Keefe exhibit which had many more visitors. I really do hope I can return to it later in October–for although I have seen most of the canvasses on display, her work is so compelling that one is seized by a desire to pause before each one and contemplate it. We walked rather speedily through the various Rooms to take in her changing subjects–flowers, fruit, adobe houses, the mountains that surround Santa Fe, etc. It was all very nicely done. Yes, I do think I will return..

A Walk Along the Thames Embankment:

Left with very little energy, after what had been an eventful day already, I wondered whether it was wise to take up Alisha’s suggestion that we walk along the South Embankment to try to find a spot to see the London 1666 barge. Alisha had to meet a friend and could not stay for the burning which would begin at 8. 30 pm. I certainly did not have the stomach to stand for another two and half hours. And there was simply nowhere to sit until then. If one had not grabbed a spot at the occasional pub or restaurant that lined the quay, there was no way to watch the spectacle other than by lining the bank.

We walked on as far as the other side of Blackfriars Bridge. And there it was–the same barge I had seen moored on the north bank of the Thames yesterday, was anchored in the middle of the river where the burning would occur. We took several pictures, waited by a parapet for about fifteen minutes as we caught up on news and then decided to cross the Thames on Blackfriars Bridge and get to the Tube station. We both decided to watch the spectacle on TV

Back Home and on TV:

I found a No. 25 bus stop headed to Bethnal Green, Alicia found the Tube stop and we departed with plans to meet again when I get back after my research stint in Oxford. I find Alisha great company as we share so many interests in common. We will definitely do some theater shows and opera in the future.

Back home at exactly 7.00 pm, I found that I was exhausted. I immediately prepared a dinner plate for myself–salad with lettuce and frozen veg in a balsamic dressing, pork sausage, soup. And as I ate, I watched a live telecast of the burning of the barge and, believe me, it was a chilling experience. Interviews with David Best, the kids and homeless folk who were part of the project, employees of Artichoke, the production company that masterminded the spectacle, personnel from St. Paul’s Cathedral, etc. were part of the live program and I was thoroughly thrilled that I watched it as it happened live, just a couple of miles from where I was seated. And no, I have no regrets that I did not watch it in person as it would have simply been too much for my feet to take.

I watched Beck on TV and dropped off to sleep as I watched because I was so tired. It had been a fruitful and very busy Sunday and as the commemoration events of the Fire on this packed weekend come to an end, I am so pleased that I was so involved in so many of them as much more than just a bystander.

Until tomorrow, cheerio…

London’s Burning! London’s Burning! And Orientation Lectures at NYU-London

Sep3

Friday, September 2, 2016

London

Morning Visitors:

I awoke at 6.15 am (naturally, no alarm, just my body clock) to catch up on writing a blog post–this seems to have fallen into fairly comfortable routine for me. Not much time to do any reading as I had a lecture appointment at NYU. I did make the time to chat with my Dad–a much longer chat than I had anticipated, but all is well in Bombay.

I had a visitor expected at 8. 15 am–The Gas Man Cometh! The problem with the boiler needed to be fixed and I would be letting him in. He arrived on schedule and about 45 minutes later, I was relieved by David who had agreed to wait as long as it took for the gas man to resolve the issue. Accordingly, I organized my brekkie (muesli with honey yoghurt and decaff coffee) and got dressed (no shower because obviously there was no hot water!), doused myself in Freesia perfume by Fragonard and was out the door!

Introductory Lecture/s to London at NYU:

The lectures I wished to attend as part of NYU-London’s Orientation for our new students were at 10.00 am. I took a bus to Bethnal Green station then the Central Line Tube to Tottenham Court Road, then walked along Great Russel Street to find The Congress Center where the lectures would be held. The place was already buzzing with about 200 students but since there were many seats vacant, it was clear to me that one batch hadn’t yet arrived from their resident hall. About half an hour later, they trooped inside and the session began.

I was keen to listen to what the speaker would say on the ‘Introduction to London’ lecture. It is a tall order–introducing London from the Beginnings to Brexit! The Lecturer was Porf. Steve Inwood, who, I later discovered (on chatting with him) had been one of Boris Johnson’s advisers on matters regarding transport for London. He started off by reminding us that we were gathered together to listen to a lecture about London on one of its red-letter days–no pun intended! But today marks exactly 350 years since the Great Fire of London of 1666–a date that I had committed to memory decades ago when studying British History in India. Using Powerpoint, he presented a number of visuals–old maps, modern photographs, etc. to delineate the varied faces of London and the forces that have contributed to its evolution and being. I found some aspects of it quite enlightening although I really did know a lot of what he disclosed.

He was followed by Dr. William (Lez) Henry who spoke about the Black Atlantic presence in London. A visually striking Jamaican-British figure in his dreadlocks, Lez spoke about the arrival on the Empire Windrush in 1952 of the first Jamaican immigrants to the UK–these included his parents–who settled in Brixton and immediately attempted to bring their music and dance traditions to the city. These were roundly rejected as the vicious racism of the 1950s was designed to demean and degrade these hardworking, ambitious people. The rise of the Skinheads worsened this issue when full-blown street warfare began through gangs. As a part of one of the gangs during his growing years, Lez brought first-hand experience to his talk which was fun, entertaining and informative. It is ironic that Reggae, a form of Jamaican music, is among the most popular music genres in the UK today–just as chicken tikka masala is the favorite form of takeout food in the UK today: brought in by the South Asian immigrants who also experienced the same race and color bars in the 1940s, 50s and 60s. Overall, it was a very interesting morning and a chance for me to reunite with some of my former New York students from the Stern School of Business who will be spending their Fall semester in London.

Photocopying and Pizza Lunch:

Back at my office at Bedford Square, I attempted to get some photocopying done but discovered that the machine was in hot (no pun intended!) demand and that we had run out of paper. I really ought not to have waited until the eve of school re-opening to do this as every faculty members is in the same boat–desperate to get syllabi printed out. I am surprised that they are still required to photocopy them for students here in London. In New York, in an attempt to Go Green, we merely email students’ syllabi and get them to photocopy individually, if they need to. However, the wait for the copy machine allowed me to meet a few of my new NYU colleagues here in London, Steve (who delivered the lecture), Elia, Marie (a lovely Frenchwoman with a Parisian accent) and her son, Ben ( a very bright little boy).

When I was done, I sauntered over to the Book Fair in a nearby hotel and browsed through the stalls. That when I made a nice discovery!

Registering to Vote from Overseas:

I had felt very disappointed that my position in London would not allow me to vote in the US Elections of 2016: an election that might be historic as it could put a woman for the first time in the White House. Eight years ago, I had not been able to vote for Obama although I was a big supporter of him because I was in London when the US election took place.

So, imagine my delight when I found that one of the stalls was run by three women who were registering absentee American overseas citizens as potential voters. They did everything: They gave me a form, looked up the address of the Town Clerk in Connecticut to whom I ought to mail it, even sold me a stamp for 1.33 pounds to pop it into a British post-box. I was simply delighted and lost no time in going through the formalities. Sooner or later, I will receive my ballot sheet in the mail and can send out my vote! Now, of course, I will have to sit and think: who is the less horrible of the two candidates–Trump or Clinton? Hmmm…on that score, I don’t think I will need too long of a think!

Finding out that there was tons of pizza in the dining hall next door, I popped in and ate probably the worst pizza I have ever eaten in my life. It made me dreadfully homesick for good New York pizza dripping with good quality, tasty tomato sauce and really gooey mozzarella cheese. Good chocolate Ice-cream and good Pizza–those are two of the things I so wish I could find in London!

Off to the Holborn Library:

My next port of call was the Holborn Library on Theobald’s Road where I used to have a membership when I lived there. Since it had lapsed for want of renewal, I decided to go back there and reinstate it. It had been the source of all the leisure-time reading I had done when I had last lived in London (almost the entire Harry Potter series, for instance, which I had read then). It was done online and before long, I was presented with my membership card. I browsed through the stacks, did not find a paperback I could pick up and did not want to carry around the weight of a hardbound volume. I will go back again when I have some more leisure to pick something out.

On the Bus to the National Portrait Gallery:

It was about 3.00 pm, by the time I arrived at he National Portrait Gallery to continue my survey of the Victorians. I was pleased to find a portrait of Sir Charles Barry, architect of the Houses of Parliament and Highclere Castle (setting for Downton Abbey) as I had no idea what he looked like although his name has so often come up recently. I also found a portrait of a 19th century cricketer that I photographed for my friend Bash. It is nice to have free wifi in these big museums. When I finished with the 19th century, I stopped as I decided to do the 20th in one go–if time permits, tomorrow.

Journey To and Research at the Library:

I was headed next to the Library at Queen Mary College to continue my work on Elizabeth Buettner’s book; but this time I made sure I stepped into the café to eat a snack and order a cup of tea first. I did not want to leave the library early when hunger pangs beckoned. And was I glad I did!

So I took the Northern Line from Charing Cross Station, switched into the District Line at Embankment, then took a bus for 2 stops to the college on Mile End Road. It was about 6.00 pm when I arrived at my favorite seat in the library. In a week or two, it will be much more crowded as college classes begin. For the moment, it is still a pleasure to sit in my carrel and take notes. I made steady progress but when the library closed at 7. 30, I left–thankfully, I was not hungry at all.

On the Bus to the Thames:

It was actually while I was seated on the No. 25 bus to get home that I made the lightning decision to do something that would mark the 350th anniversary of the Great Fire. I was not sure exactly what I ought to do. So I played a guessing game. Surely there would be something on at The Monument–designed by Wren and erected to mark the horrible occurrence.

So I switched into a No. 15 bus that would get me there. When I got off, there was absolutely nothing and no one at the Monument except for a few pub revelers. Not to be daunted, I walked along London Bridge (which had also been burned in the fire) to arrive at the center of it. But for the fantastic illumination of Tower Bridge and the Shard that made for good photo ops, there was nothing to be seen. I really ought to have Googled it first to find out what was going on where–as there simply HAD to be something.

Great Fire 350 Commemoration on the South Bank:

I walked back to Poultry, hopped into a No. 11 bus that was headed towards The Tower of London and decided to get off at Wobbly Bridge. Surely there would be something going on there! It was a lovely late summer’s night and although there was a slight spritz of a drizzle, it passed off quickly. I was grateful for my fleece as it kept me nice and comfortable.

At St. Paul’s Churchyard, I got off and oh my goodness! Crowds heading towards Wobbly Bridge convinced me that something was going on. I hurried forward without looking around me and it was not until I was right in the middle of it that I looked back and found that the dome of St. Paul’s was ablaze–yes, a fantastic light projection show circulated flames in varying colors that moved around the dome and filled one with horror. The rest of the building, usually beautifully lit all night long, was kept in complete darkness. It was totally eerie.

By the time I arrived at the middle of the bridge, I could see hoops of fire over on the South Bank right outside the Tate Modern. And as I hurried forward, I could smell fire and burning and it was the first horror I truly felt of the gravity of the terrible tragedy that befell the city.

Totally Thames Festival:

But first, in the Thames, anchored just below the Millennium Bridge (the real name of the bridge), I spied the lit cube with the Korean man posed on it. It is a seven meter high illuminated cube floating on a pontoon on the Thames and containing sketches by Korean refugees who made London their home. Created by Korean artist Ik-Joong Kang, it is part of the Totally Thames Festival which will go on till Sunday. I took a few pictures of it and moved on as it was getting later and I feel compelled to get home as soon as I can.

Becoming a Part of the Fire Garden Outside the Thames:

Hurrying along with my camera at the ready, I took the foot passage to the South Bank and arrived at a most awesome sight. The area outside the Tate Modern was converted into a Fire Garden with hanging baskets, terracotta pots placed in formative loops, hoops, etc. But instead of being filled with flowers or plants, they were entirely filled with hot burning coals! The heat, the smell of burning fuel, the sizzling, crackling sounds made as they burned, the shooting off showers of tiny flames, was all so hideous and so evocative of what had happened 350 years ago that I was deeply affected.

London’s Great Fire of 1666:

So here is what happened: In the early hours of September 2, 1666, a fire broke out in Pudding Lane in The City of London when hot lard used in baking bread was set aflame. The female servant who became aware of it while it was still manageable went to alert her boss who lay asleep with his wife. He was so panic-stricken, he roused his wife and they ran as far away as they could. The poor maid was one of the 14 people who died: a rather tiny number if you consider what damage and destruction was caused during the next four days that the fire raged.

First of all, London was built entirely of timber in the 17th century. A vicious wind egged the flames on and within no time at all, the entire square mile that comprised The City was ablaze. People scurried away to the river which offered the only form of refuge. We know much about the Great Fire through the pen of Samuel Pepys, the diarist who climbed to the steeple of All Hallows at the Tower Church to watch the spectacle. By the time the fire was quelled, the entire City lay in ashes.

It provided an opportunity to rebuild the City under the stewardship of Sir Christopher Wren who used stone and turned immediately to the churches creating his masterpiece–St. Paul’s Cathedral–and it got rid of the rats that had carried the bubonic plague that for centuries had regularly decimated the population.

The City of London that survives today is not too far different from the way it looked in the early 1700s after Wren had accomplished his miracle. Of course, there is no telling how long this landscape will last as The City is being altered almost beyond recognition by the 21st century frenzy of development that is giving us modern icons such as the Gherkin and the Cheese Grater!

Participation in the Event:

I listened to some of the live music that was being presented by musicians in cages surrounded by burning coals. I needed to rest my feet a bit so I squatted on the grass and listened to the extremely plaintive mourning music they produced. I took many pictures of the installations in wrought iron that produced the fire and the heat. It gave me an idea of what it might have been like to try to escape the fire by jumping into the Thames–but what if you could not swim? I wondered.

At about 9. 30 pm (really much later than I had desired to stay out), I crossed the Thames again on Wobbly Bridge and jumped into a bus heading to the East End. This afforded me the opportunity to get some really good pictures of the burning dome of St. Paul’s. About ten minutes later, I was changing into another bus outside Liverpool Street Station–by this time I was hungry, so I pulled my sandwiches out of my bag and ate them on the top deck of the bus that came swiftly along.

By 10.00 pm, I was inside my house and sitting down with a mug of ice-cream–mugs because there are no bowls in this house (the bowls here are more like large soup plates–not the best for ice-cream or other desserts).

On A Videochat with Llew:

I ended my day with a long videochat with Llew who had a routine colonoscopy that morning with our favorite surgeon. Our American friend Susan, who had driven Llew to the hospital and back for his surgery,  had been in touch with me all day to keep me informed on how he was doing. He looked and sounded fine and none the worse for his medical escapade. With the long Labor Day Weekend looming in the States, he has three days to make a good recovery and to take it easy. I told him all about my experiences with the South Bank Great Fire commemoration and he was very pleased that I braved the late night to go out and do something significant to mark the day.

At 11.30, after catching up with email, I got ready for bed but it was after midnight when I switched off the light.

Until tomorrow, cheerio….