Today we bought one-day travel cards so we could still take the tube around the city. We hopped on (this time I brought a book even though I knew I’d have to carry it around all day). We went to the Tate Modern first. The building used to be a power station, so it has an imposing brick façade; once inside, one immediately gravitates to a new exhibit by Holler—it’s a series of metal and glass (or is it plastic?) winding tubes; yes, they are slides! There are 4 or 5 different tubes that snake around one another and start from varying levels. There was already a que for tickets, and since we can slide in America, we didn’t bother. We did, however, watch a few people slide—particularly two older gentleman who went down the smallest slide. Very amusing. We walked through all the free exhibits—all the major museums here are free except for special exhibits. What a delightful concept.
We saw works by Chagall, Lichtenstein, Warhol (including the famous Marilyn Monroe piece), Klimt, Matisse, Picasso (Girl in a Chemise), and Rodin’s statue The Kiss. My favorite of these modern pieces was a series of mirrored sliding doors (exhibit was called, sure enough, Sliding Doors). As we walked towards one door, it sweeps open and we were confronted with a small mirrored room and facing yet another sliding door, so we walked forward. Behind that was another mirrored room and so on…I think there were 5 doors and rooms. I’m not a big fan of a lot of modern art, but this one was interesting. One display was a disturbing set of sculptures combining man and machine. Hammers hovering menacingly over brains and so on. I can’t say I get into the urinal installations as art either. Worse, perhaps, is the snuff-looking can that is labeled (in similar words): “Artist’s poo.” I’ll stick to the classics.
We then looked at taking the Tate to Tate boat to the next destination, but having no cash, and recently purchasing new tube tickets, made that an unlikely choice. As we walked around, we stumbled across the Globe Theater and Shakespeare exhibit. Having now spent more than we care to remember, I didn’t feel 9 pounds each was a good idea. So we took a couple pictures, visited the gift shop, and moved on.
We then took the tube to the consistently busy Victoria station (a central hub for trains, coaches, and tubes); today it was busier than ever due to a fire of some sort that delayed several lines. We then took a tube to Pimlico station (we haven’t seen even ½ of the stations in London, but it’s fun to see as many as possible). We then strolled a few blocks to the Tate Britain—another art gallery. This was one of my planned destinations, as room 14 in the gallery contains numerous Pre-Raphaelite works (Victorian era art by a small group of painters). I was thrilled to see work by Ford Maddox Brown, Waterhouse, Rossetti, Mallais, and Leighton (him of the aforementioned tomb at St. Pauls). The particular works I remember seeing were The Awakening Conscience, Cordelia, Proserpine, and Ophelia.
We saw works by Chagall, Lichtenstein, Warhol (including the famous Marilyn Monroe piece), Klimt, Matisse, Picasso (Girl in a Chemise), and Rodin’s statue The Kiss. My favorite of these modern pieces was a series of mirrored sliding doors (exhibit was called, sure enough, Sliding Doors). As we walked towards one door, it sweeps open and we were confronted with a small mirrored room and facing yet another sliding door, so we walked forward. Behind that was another mirrored room and so on…I think there were 5 doors and rooms. I’m not a big fan of a lot of modern art, but this one was interesting. One display was a disturbing set of sculptures combining man and machine. Hammers hovering menacingly over brains and so on. I can’t say I get into the urinal installations as art either. Worse, perhaps, is the snuff-looking can that is labeled (in similar words): “Artist’s poo.” I’ll stick to the classics.
We then looked at taking the Tate to Tate boat to the next destination, but having no cash, and recently purchasing new tube tickets, made that an unlikely choice. As we walked around, we stumbled across the Globe Theater and Shakespeare exhibit. Having now spent more than we care to remember, I didn’t feel 9 pounds each was a good idea. So we took a couple pictures, visited the gift shop, and moved on.
We then took the tube to the consistently busy Victoria station (a central hub for trains, coaches, and tubes); today it was busier than ever due to a fire of some sort that delayed several lines. We then took a tube to Pimlico station (we haven’t seen even ½ of the stations in London, but it’s fun to see as many as possible). We then strolled a few blocks to the Tate Britain—another art gallery. This was one of my planned destinations, as room 14 in the gallery contains numerous Pre-Raphaelite works (Victorian era art by a small group of painters). I was thrilled to see work by Ford Maddox Brown, Waterhouse, Rossetti, Mallais, and Leighton (him of the aforementioned tomb at St. Pauls). The particular works I remember seeing were The Awakening Conscience, Cordelia, Proserpine, and Ophelia.
My favorites, though, were Mariana. It is a scene of a woman stretching in front of a table where she has been working. In front of her is a stained glass window. I was studying Mariana and the sun coming in from the ceiling above me made the blue in her dress very striking. Just as I was leaning in to look at a small clump of paint that made the window seem very textured—almost 3D, the clouds outside the gallery blocked the sun. It was striking how the painting reflected that loss of light as well. The stained glass had darkened, the picture’s shadows deepened, and while the blue of the dress was still vibrant, it lost some of its luminescence.
We then walked through the contemporary and modern displays and then headed to the gift shop. We then caught a cab to the hotel. I took a quick nap; Paul went to the sports bar to watch Rugby and struck up a conversation with an Irishman who explained the game to him. We then decided it was time to find something to eat, so we wondered to two different pubs (forgot the name of the first, but stumbled upon The Rob Roy second), but neither served food on weekends. So we hiked back to the Old English Gentlemen. We decided to split a meal, and when Paul ordered, he told the proprietor that we were going to have the Jumbo battered cod and chips because I didn’t like bangers and mash. The fellow told Paul, “Get rid of her.” So when he was clearing tables around us and asked how the food was, I couldn’t resist a quick, “Much better than bangers and mash” and he laughed. Spent the evening packing our bags and sorting out our receipts (what do we have to claim, can we get refunded the VAT tax—seemed to have read that somewhere), and throwing away clothes we don’t want to bring back (more room for the souvenirs (though there really aren’t that many).
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