Holiday

Yesterday, I decided to go on holiday in London.

This is a place miles away from Nunhead, you understand, and very, very different. There is a river there, and boats and fiefdoms, cathedrals and castles.

and very silly, wonderful bridges...

Shad Thames. A dark narrow street between converted warehouses. I love the crisscrossing overhead bridges.
Jokes about City Hall leaning to the left on a postcard, please. But it isn't true any more with the rotter in charge...
Splendiferous view
This is inside Hay's Galleria. A strange metal sculpture inside moves and surprises...

Southwark Cathedral...
The replica Golden Hind. I stopped here for a much needed cappucino and Panini (thank you Mr C Nero). The ruins of medieval Winchester Palace on Clink St.
Where the Thames path goes beneath Southward Bridge, there is a mural about the Frost Fairs that were held on the Thames long ago.
The reconstructed, heritage, Globe.
Across the River, another Cathedral.
And I believe Christopher Wren lived here, on the South bank, and was rowed across to work on St Paul's each day. Or maybe not...
And this is what will forever be known as Norman Foster's Bouncing Bridge, even though it doesn't any more since Arup have fixed it.
Now, imagine someone made the decision to take all of the famous art in London that I don't particularly like and put it all together in a converted power station so I wouldn't have to see it. I personally think that that would be a very helpful and pleasant thing to do.

But imagine that they didn't quite get it right, so that there are maybe half a dozen works that I quite like, that have been put in the power station by accident. And one I adore. So sometimes I have to go there anyway.

I give you: Tate Modern.

Full of people looking seriously at arbitrary splashes of abstract colour; discussing 'masses' and 'form'; bandying '-isms' around. Lots of them dressed like arts students (you know what I mean) - including the obligatory stupid haircut.

But because this is abstract, modern, contemporary art - and therefore quite old-fashioned - there are a number of elderly stalwarts circulating around as well, who've been 'into' (I think they would say) this stuff for years.

I went midweek, so there was also the depressing sight of primary school children being forced to comment on and be impressed by painting than which they themselves could do much better. 'Look at these red swirly paintings: who likes them because they're red? Hands up. Good. And who likes them because they're swirly? Great. Now hands up who likes them because they're red and swirly?' I kid you not. This in a room of red swirly paintings, as you may have guessed. Not once were the class asked 'Who thinks these are a bit rubbish, and not worth wasting wall space on? Hands up. Higher. Goood...'

Now, having got that off my chest, I'm going to try to be positive (I had, after all, chosen to go in the place).

This is the current Turbine Hall installation. A huge metal box, several stories tall, lined with black felt. You enter at one end and struggle in growing darkness to find the back wall.

Despite its pretension, this does kind of sum up the feeling of being inside the crate:
Elsewhere, this is a gallery you can take quite quickly. The organisation is to a scheme I don't really understand, and the material on display does not excite (well, me, anyway).

Mostly, little arrested me apart from works I already knew from other contexts - like Rodin's The Kiss, some Georges Braque, Roy Lichtenstein's Whaam!, Dali's Narcissus.

And the one work I sat and enjoyed and revelled in for around twenty minutes: one of Monet's Water-Lillies (on loan from the National Gallery).

The gallery does at least offer a smashing view. Everyone takes the same picture:

Like I did:
Outside, this gorgeous stand of trees helpfully obscures the gallery.

... and as if in some spirit of dogged, hold out, figurative recidivism, the Royal Watercolour Society is right next door...
Because of all of the building works around Blackfriars Station and Bridge, the Thames path cuts briefly inland. Past this odd building
... and this building site.
... which was handily reflected in the shiny plaques for the offices opposite: Titan Books and Forbidden Planet?
Crikey.

Back past Dogget's, the River view is marvellous.
I really like these buildings. The middle one, with the steep roof and tower, was originally built for the City of London Boys School, although they have since moved and I think it is now occupied by J P Morgan. I'm still trying to find out about the brown building on the left.
The building on the right - and better seen in the picture below, beside Blackfriars - is Unilever House, 100 Victoria St, currently undergoing a major internal reconstruction while retaining its marvellous facade.

I continued on to the National Theatre (nice coffee and sandwich, browsed the bookshop, hung around, and then mooched at the NFT (they've messed around with the cafe again!).

And away.