Dickinson College Humanities Program in Norwich

You can tell our time is London is winding down by the mass influx of required posts; it would seem pubs is the one people have been holding off on the most.  I feel bad as I continue to bring up Kate Fox’s book Watching the English, as we are going to be reading it soon anyway, but I think that attests to what a good choice it was for reading.  She is one of the few anthropologists I would actually read out of enjoyment rather than the pursuit of knowledge (No one really wants to read Jared Diamond, the man is drier than a desert).  What’s nice is that she is both an insider and an outsider; I mean by this that she has the privilege to make frank comments about the British without offending anyone, yet she has the background of an ethnographer. Anyway, that long rabble was just an explanation of the biases I came into the pub scene having.

A common theme with all British life is knowing one’s place; this applies to class, cross walks, but more importantly ques. The greatest offense one can do at a pub is getting in the way of a person and his cellar-temperature beer. There is in fact a distinct social script depending on where you go. For the most part, in the more upscale pubs, there is simply an unwritten code where you wait your bloody turn. However, in the younger and louder pub, one must take a more aggressive approach, which is equally acceptable: a person shows up to the bar, checks out who is leaning into the counter the furthest and then leans according to his placement, gradually marking his territory with a further lean-in as it gets closer to his turn. Both more classier and collegy pubs follow the same script if two people believe they have arrived at the same time. The British have an interesting way of complimenting people, where they play down themselves so as to gain a compliment from the other person, who in turn plays the same game.  It is similar in a pub scenario: two people will go back and forth as to who was truly there first until one of them admits defeat and accepts the first drink. For the most part bartenders seem to be more bored by this then anything. Surely they will call a wanker out if he’s jumped the que, but for the most part they are looking for the most efficient way to serve alcohol to people. Which brings me to the next biggest faux-pas: buying drinks separately. It doesn’t matter where you go, if you’re in a group buy those drinks together (especially if a friend like Baron is paying).  What I do enjoy is the concept of tipping– i.e there is none even if you eat food there. Similar to in American, it seen as a very nice gesture to buy the bartender a drink; in order to do that you say “and one for yourself.”

One of the greatest things I have ever come across in my life(next to pasties) is the great equalizing nature of the pouring system in this country. More than anything i think this speaks for the true nature of the British. When you order a shot in America, the bartender will eye it and guesstimate. Normally it comes out correct, but sometimes you get a little more/little less. In Britain, people don’t really care about getting more, they just want to get exactly what they paid for, exactly what they feel they deserve. They don’t look to cheat the system by complaining about the amount of beer– you paid for 330 ml, that’s what you get. That is beauty.

There is a common conception that I’m going to have to slightly disagree with: pubs are indeed an area where the British let go of their reserve more than other places. However, beyond a football match, the patrons seem to rarely interact beyond their bubble of friends that they came with to the pub. From what I have seen, within a pub there is very will in the way of co-mingling. There is a sort of comradery though, an invisible thread that binds all the patrons in a unified understanding of common purpose and intent, which is quite beautiful and harmonizing.  Going outside for some reason changes things quite a bit, and it may be because of the smoker’s-bond, but it is often there that you’d find people talking to people they hadn’t met before that night. This is of course shifting with the more youthful (dare I say Americanized?) pubs. As the more “authentic” patrons, such as the businessmen, the construction workers and the local drunks, are pushed out in favor of the more profitable groups, the pub scene changes. More and more you find pub owners who own six or seven cookie-cutter like pubs. So whereas in any other market, supply and demand would kill off many of these pubs, artificial inflation keeps them afloat. And yet as I say this, I have never seen an empty pub, except when it was closed. Further, historic pubs like those subsidized by CAMRA are slowly getting addicted to the tourist teet– as much of London is.  A valid point brought up in my tour was ‘why?’ Why keep these historic pubs afloat if they are simply becoming mausoleums for the glory days of British ale? Their answer, from what I’ve gathered is simply: because we are British. Even if they have become nothing more than relics to be gawked at, people still should pay their alms. Why do we keep these churches around when they could just as easily be turned into cafes, dance halls or web publishing companies(all of which I have seen here in England)? They retain cultural heritage, and people will do whatever it takes to maintain them. If you sell out, at least you can still think of days gone by, when the Viaduct wasn’t filled with loud Americans trying to get into the cellar for a photo.

Before I begin with the Orwell thing, I’d like to say I have been to a restaurant by the name of The Moon Under Water right off of Leicester Square Station, it paled in comparison to the fictitious one that Orwell describes. Rather than diving into the topic, I’d like to note how much I liked his use of stylistic shifts; the entire time he’s talking about the pub it is flowery and light, but he shifts to reality and with it shifts his style into one of  flat tones and matter-of-fact explanations.

As far as my favorite pubs, I hate to be so plain, but I honestly don’t care about the decorations at all. As long as they are relatively sanitary, the place can be as run down as it likes– adds character. The most important thing for me is cheap food and pitchers. Pitchers are a necessity.  If I want to drink and relax, I’ll go to the Aran House garden and drink some wine with my buddies. I go to pubs to socialize and be around other people who seem to be having a good time. Sure it’s neat to see pretty architecture and a neat history, but the history isn’t going to help me with my growling stomach and the pretty ceiling isn’t going to satisfy and thirst at all. I think that is why I am able to go back to the Court time and time again, even after my buddies are sick of it: beer and burger 4 quid. It doesn’t get much better than that. And you have that guy standing at the bar always laughing about something. The garish 80’s music and the rowdypool players just add to the experience. This may be simply from my personal drinking experience, but I don’t like the idea of drinking alone. This is why the pitcher is such a good idea, and quickly becoming a staple of the pub environment. While some may scoff at the idea of a pitcher, it is closer to a pubs original purpose than one might thinks. People, huddling around each other to stay warm, trying to get their caloric value in for the day with a pint of beer. If I had to pick out the best atmosphere of a pub, I’d say the Blackfriar, I really like the way it’s structure, giving a very intimate feeling to the patrons and enveloping you in the gorgious wood carvings. As far as bartenders go in a good versus great pub, it’s all about respect. You treat them with respect they treat you the same. As long as they get the drink right and don’t screw me on the change, nothing else really matters.

Of course, the Marlborough Arms will always have a place in my heart: it was my first after all. We have a close relationship with Justin, the food isn’t bad and they have some really good deals on spirits. It has a relaxed environment, and yet a lighter attitude then other pubs I have been to this month. But what is it that makes the Marlborough Arms a good pub and not a great one? I feel like it’s almost too static for me, but other then that I can’t figure out why we quickly left our first love in the dust of time.

I do pray I’ve sufficiently answered the prompt because I don’t know if I could bare to write much more for fear of being stoned later. But it is interesting as I look back that I have sort of chose the “dances with wolves” version of a pub: I want the British charm and nobility with the rowdiness and technology of an American bar.

Anyway, cheers

And now, the thrilling conclusion to the epic saga that is Andrew’s London museum experience!

The British Museum

Because the British Museum is so darned enormous, I decided to stay within the comforting walls of the ancient Greece and Egypt exhibitions. Greece was fascination. As one of the few students in my major who actually enjoyed ancient philosophy, it was oh so cool to see the world in which some of the most important thinkers in history lived within. Part of the Parthenon was on display. The Parthenon! This building is the most significant symbol of democracy in existence. Throughout time, different civilizations used the structure for their own purposes. In the 6th Century, it was a church. During the Ottoman occupation, it was a mosque. It was unearthed by Lord Elgin in the early 1800s, and now resides, in part, in the British museum.

There is a major debate going on now about whether the Parthenon remains should remain in the UK or be transported back to Greece, its original location, where another segment of the structure is preserved and on display. I believe that it belongs back in Athens. After all, a puzzle missing half the pieces is much less decipherable than one only a quarter. The closer archeologists and historians can come to complete recreation of the Parthenon, the better. So get it out of London and back to Greece!

Egypt was as expected. Some statues. Some mosaic. Some mummies. I saw Cleopatra, which was cool. I’ve seen Egyptology exhibits in the Smithsonian and Egyptian art in the Met in New York. The British Museum didn’t offer me anything new and exciting, so I don’t have much else to say on the topic.

The National Gallery

As The Pitmen Painters made clear, art is in the eye of the beholder, and sometimes the beholder’s eye just isn’t sharp or refined enough. When I look at the countless portraits, landscapes, and still lifes I don’t have the same emotional response connoisseurs of the arts seem to undergo. I cannot seem to get past the raw aesthetics of most paintings and appreciate their apparent value.

Take Van Gogh’s seminal Sunflowers, for instance. This work is so loved, so well known, and so damned valuable and I just don’t understand why. In fact, Van Gogh once said that this particular painting is his crowning achievement. To me, the barbarian, “Sunflowers” is a beautiful rendering of a vase full of sunflowers against a black background. Why on Earth a Japanese man paid almost $40,000,000 for a version of the painting is beyond me. Maybe one day I will have a Pitmen Painters-esque revelation and understand, but until that day I remain in the dark.

http://webartgallery.org/files/origopage/images/vangogh060.preview.JPG

That isn’t to say there aren’t any paintings that did stir me. Cézanne’s An Old Woman With a Rosary is a portrait of just that, an elderly woman clutching what seems to be a broken rosary. To me, the work encapsulates all the bleakness and sorrow of the world within her dead, black eyes. It seems transport you into the mind of the woman and forces the viewer to feel her pain. She knows that her life is almost at an end, so she desperately hangs on to her religion for salvation. Perhaps she has lived a life of sin and is afraid of what awaits her beyond the grave. Maybe she is trying to force herself to accept Jesus and repent for her sins in order to avoid damnation. Cézanne’s rendering of the woman’s eyes affected me most – a sea of darkness in which no one can escape. There is no light or color, only horror, pain, and sadness.

Ok, so maybe I can appreciate painting. Thanks, Mr. Cézanne.

http://arttoheartweb.com/images/Cezanne1.jpg

Tate Modern

Whew. Just when I was starting to think, hey, maybe I can appreciate and understand the visual arts on a deeper level, modern art punched me in the gut. I’ve never taken an art history or appreciation class and simply don’t know what to look for. When I see something by an artist by, say, Cy Twombly, all I see is colors and shapes on a background. Considering my laudable capacity for music appreciation, struggling so much in an art gallery is remarkably frustrating. Paul McCarthy’s sexually explicit video art strikes me as a petty cry for attention through shock value.

http://www.tate.org.uk/collection/P/P07/P07581_9.jpg

That said, I have always had an affinity for the surreal and absurd in literature, film, and especially philosophy. The Tate Modern has an excellent surrealism section showcasing artists like Salvador Dalí and Marcel Duchamp. I found myself losing myself in the strange worlds of the artists’ creation. Dalí’s Metamorphosis of Narcissus pervaded my mind with a breed of thought only accessible through a surrealist lens. And then you have something like the Lobster Telephone that you can’t help but laugh at.

http://www.tate.org.uk/collection/T/T02/T02343_9.jpg

http://www.tate.org.uk/collection/T/T03/T03257_9.jpg

While the National Gallery was too concrete, much of the Tate Modern was just too abstract. Surrealism and Cézanne aside, my current capability to appreciate the visual arts is lacking. Art history majors, help me!

To conclude, I leave you with a photograph of a Paul McCarthy work that actually is safe for work, barely. I present to you Santa Clause with a Buttplug.

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/c/cb/Tierecke_mccarthy.jpg

I love being outdoors. There aren’t many experiences in this life that beat lying out in the grass with friends eating, drinking, snogging (sorry, it had to be said). The abundance of green space in London is one of the city’s best features. About 25% of London’s geography is comprised of parks, meaning wherever I happen to find myself wandering aimlessly through the city, I always run into a park, large or small, without fail.

The reason why this makes me so happy is because I am from suburban Harrisburg, PA, where parks are in short supply. The few that we do have are in poor condition, as park upkeep is quite low on the municipal spending bill; there are bigger fish to fry, like violent crime and sub par education. The one park I do frequent, Veterans Park, is always crowded, lacking in shade, and overall not particularly pleasant. My friends and I arrive, play some volleyball or ultimate frisbee, and get the heck out because no one has any desire to stick around.

Then I come to London and see spaces like St. James Park, where me and four others spent a few hours doing my favorite thing, lounging. Comically, we were approached by a man wearing coin box demanding payment for the use of the public chairs. In an act of civil disobedience that Dr. King or Mr. Gandhi would be proud of, we elected to sit on the grass. Regent’s Park is enormous, reminiscent of Central Park back in the states. Its open green pastures and winding pathways make it the perfect locale for a romantic walk or a morning run. The smaller parks are nice as well, secluded little getaways from the hustle and bustle.

St. James's Park from http://www.freefoto.com/images/31/06/31_06_6---St-James-s-Park--London_web.jpg

Regent's Park from http://www.londonphoto.me.uk/image/regents%20park.jpg

Now that our time in London is waning, I regret that I haven’t spent more time in parks. I was, of course, too busy blogging.

From what I heard from other group members, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect about the Victoria and Albert Museum.  Being situated right next to the Natural History Museum, I wished I could skip the Victoria and Albert and go straight there.  Nonetheless, once I entered the V&A, I knew I would not be disappointed.  Sadly, I did not get to see every exhibit, but I saw enough to realize how amazing the V&A is.  The one exhibit which I really liked was the medieval section.  Despite the fact that the other half of it was closed due to renovations and preparation for an updated exhibit, there was no disappointment to be found with the half that was open.

The Cast Courts was perhaps one of the most amazing exhibits I have seen in a museum in London.  Though not the originals, the casts in this exhibit are truly marvelous.  Trajan’s Column stunned me once I entered the room.  Its massive size and detailed inscription spoke volumes about the glory and power that was once the Roman Empire.  I had the same feelings of glory and power when I saw the cast of Perseus with the severed head of Medusa.  Though nowhere near in size to Trajan’s Column, the cast still gave off an aura of greatness.  These feelings were not just with Roman casts.  The altarpiece of the annunciation and passion of Christ was spectacular.  Its intricate detail and beauty was beyond comparison; it was my favorite altarpiece out of all of them in the V&A.  Almost rivaling Trajan’s Column was the Portico de la Gloria.  Though in Spain, this cast was simply beautiful.  Built to honor God, the structure is also a monument to what Man is capable of creating.

One thing I think some people had a problem with the V&A was that there was just a bunch of differing exhibits together in the same museum; you could go from Medieval Europe to Japan fairly quickly.  The question bound to come up is “what makes this British?”  I don’t have an answer to this but I can say that perhaps there is nothing truly British about the museum expect for the name.  It is possible that the museum wants nothing more than to be a place to learn about other cultures.  The British have a long history of colonialism and imperialism; this has inevitably led to the meeting of other cultures.  Perhaps now instead of colonizing, the British have decided they want to learn about other cultures through a museum.

—

I think my favorite museum thus far was the Cabinet War Rooms.  I love anything related to World War Two so the War Rooms was something right up my alley.  The entire thing was highly informative and very interesting.  Walking down the narrow corridors just gives you the feeling of being alive in the early 1940s.  The small quarters made me realize how difficult it must have been to live and work in the War Rooms.  Coupled with the fear of invasion and the reminders of a possible chemical attack (there were a number of gas masks around), to have been alive during this period and to have worked in the War Rooms is something truly remarkable.  The British take great pride in standing up to the Nazi war machine and so the Cabinet War Rooms is a place where you can feel that sense of courage and pride in the face of a brutal enemy.

In hindsight, loading our month in London with plays was a very good idea. I wasn’t so sure when we began that it would be. Especially given the diversity of the theatre experiences we had: The Globe, a heady comedy-drama in the West End, Shakespeare at The Olivier Theatre, Back to the NT for a contemporary English class drama, then finishing up with a musical that’s been running forever in the West End. That hardly sums up the entirety of London theatre, but these experiences gave us a small sense of the myriad theatre traditions and experiences the city has to offer. Maybe as importantly, they served as a break from tours, walks and other activities which involved actively learning about the history and economics of London and instead allowed us to enjoy one of London’s truly greatest products firsthand.

“Hector is Dead!”

I was perhaps most surprised by enjoying Troilus and Cressida at the Globe. I was not heartened when, in the minutes before the show started, the guy behind me showed up with Starbucks cup in hand (A.N. Wilson had specifically lamented the fact that there was a Starbucks within shouting distance of the recreated Globe). With what I knew about the original Globe and after reading Wilson’s dreadful review, I was all ready to agree that a Disney-ish Globe recreation where groundlings stand but there’s no audience interaction or adjacent bear beating just wasn’t The Globe. But a few minutes in I decided I should just stand back and enjoy it. The cast and crew should be commended for making a consistently compelling production of a difficult Shakespeare history, even if it occasionally was a bit Disney-ish. I don’t think any of us who read the play were expecting such a good experience.

“Bring a Book”

Head craning and head scratching though it may have involved, Arcadia was my favorite play and the Duke of York Theatre my favorite theatre. I thought the Duke of York was a cool space; intimate enough for an intricate and intense play like Arcadia but not too small to provide the uproarious laughter the play deserves. I actually liked where we sat, which I thought provided a better view of the whole play’s upstage and downstage action. I’m sure I didn’t even come close to understanding Arcadia, but with any difficult work of art all I ask the first time around is if I’m left intrigued enough to want to see it again, and I absolutely feel that way about Arcadia.

“My Mind is Wrapped in Dismal Thinkings”

I feel mostly positively about All’s Well That End’s Well at the Olivier, and I think that puts me in the minority. It’s certainly a frustrating play in terms of a sort of flimsy premise and (personally) unsatisfying ending (sometimes it seemed more Gilbert and Sullivan than Shakespeare), but I thought the unique set design, lighting, and music deserves credit for making the play much more endearing than I imagine it would be on the page. The Olivier must be the largest space I’ve ever seen a play in, and this particular production did suit the enormous space. I’m not sure if I’d go back to see another play there unless I was sure that particular production could accomplish this. That said, I feel very positively towards the National Theatre, both in terms of the building and its mission, both of which I addressed a few weeks back.

“No One Ever Gave Them a Paintbrush!”

I wish I’d gone back to the Globe for As You Like It, which I heard glowing reviews of from everyone, but I felt a little tired and Shakespeared out. The Pitmen Painters at the Lyttleton Theatre more than made up for it, though. Almost everyone has put in their two cents on the philosophical or political meaning of the play, and there certainly is a lot to ponder and debate there, but the main theme that stuck with me is the debate over what art is supposed to mean and what relationship the individual is supposed to have with it. Of course the play frames this as a political question, but I think it’s a fundamentally human one that works of art themselves don’t always address well. I had a few problems with the play as well, particularly the last scene (which was like being hit with a socialism-lamenting dead fish after several hours of relative subtlety). I thought it was worth seeing for 27 foreigners trying to understand England as it obviously focuses on class distinction, but also language and accents and geography. We often (given our maybe skewed perspective) don’t think of where one lives in England as having as much of an effect on identity as where one lives in America. However, I think Ashington is a good example of a place that’s  so socially and economically isolated from the rest of the country, even if it’s not as geographically far away as, say, West Virginia is from New York City. All the more reason The Pitmen Painters was a good thing to see before heading off to Norwich.

“(ominous keyboard chord)”

I won’t pile on Blood Brothers at the Phoenix, and instead I’ll say that it certainly represents a mainstay of the London theatre scene. Namely the for-profit, familiar show of middling quality which thrives (but doesn’t necessarily dominate) the West End. Rick Fisher talked about this kind of show, and how it’s come to mean that some of the best, most innovative and fun stuff now is at the pub theatres and black boxes all around town. A thing to think about next year might be going to the National Theatre’s black box (presuming the play there is worth it) or venturing even further into the fringe of London theatre. However next year is scheduled, I hope the students somehow get as much quantity and quality in their theatergoing experiences as we did.

Pub life in London. It has potential to be the great equalizer. A place where anyone over a certain age can enjoy a pint (or a glass of wine, or a mixed drink, or more than a pint…) of the drink of their choice and just chat with people inside the establishment. In the less tourist-filled places, pub life has the potential to really be a place where communities can come together. After a day at work, what could be better than grabbing some food and a drink with your neighbors while chatting with your co-workers and a friendly bartender? It sounds like an ideal way to cap off a day.

If only everyone really did enjoy it. Yes, the pub is open any and every one. But those who really are a part of the ‘authentic’ pub culture are, to this observer, those who hold on to the old British identity. Upon entering a pub, you’re sure to see a few men in suits in the corner getting drinks before heading home, a few young people on dates and chatting with friends, and a couple regulars in brown leather jackets who are talking with the bartenders about intimate details of their lives. Who isn’t there? The large Bangladeshi, Pakistani, and Indian populations, the tourists (they won’t be in until about 9 or 10 because they don’t quite realize the time that pub life really peaks over here), and the women who stay at home all aren’t present.  I don’t think there are any fingers to point here. The pubs are open, anyone can come who wishes to, and the beverages offered all the same for all who walk through the door. Still, it’s a little disheartening that it is such a homogeneous group that composes such a recognizable part of British life. When you think pub, you think England. How frustrating that when you think pub culture, the image that pops up is that of such an un-diversified crowd.

That being said, I have thoroughly enjoyed all of my experiences with pubs. The food has always been great (though a bit pricey), the drinks have always been delicious, and I have always gotten some satisfaction out of asking for a pint. It seems like such a grown-up thing to do. And while I have always gone to pubs as a part of a large group of students who are all clearly tourists, I will say that I haven’t really gotten to interact with the ‘authentic’ British people present at the pubs. Yes, we are noisy tourists that are intruding on their pint time but I still am disappointed in the lack of experience I have with chatting with the locals at the pubs. That’s something I definitely want to enjoy in Norwich. I think that I’ll have to find myself in a group of people with natural accents for that to happen rather than a group of people in which the fake accents increase in strength in correlation with how many drinks they have. I’m guilty of the fake accent-ing just as much as anyone else on the trip. But I think that’s definitely a handicap in really getting to experience pub culture (if that’s even possible for a twenty-year old female to do- I’m not convinced that that’s a group that’s really accepted into ‘authentic’ pub culture. I’m interested to find out though). So, cheers for now and we’ll find out more in Norwich.

Just when I thought things had taken a turn for the better in my London Theatre experience. Ah well, it’s probably for the best. Everyone knows that happiness is unhealthy for you, but I digress, let’s make structured arguments on how Blood Brothers managed to be so awful.

I think the greatest problem of the play had to have been the music. Premiering in the West End in 1983, I would not be surprised if the score has not changed by even a note since then. With crashing synthetic drums on every number (why people got it into their head that actual drums were simply not good enough is simply beyond the scope of imagination. That being said, the single greatest success in synth drumming: The Pinacle of the Synth Drum) and saxophones trumpeting at seemingly random times, the score was disorganized at best and a reason to pop a handful of Advil at its worst. All of this can hardly go being mentioned without also adding also that this music was being played so loudly, that it was actually drowning out the actors and actresses trying to sing. Amid complete the complete chaos that was the soundtrack, I feebly tried to pick out whatever words I could, the most frequently heard phrase being “Marylyn Monroe”. After having a generally pleasant time going to both theatres and concerts in London, I was shocked to see how something like this could be in existence. I realize that show has been playing for nearly twenty years, but at some point the directors of this show have to realize that this is a theatre performance and not a museum exhibit. It seems that at some point along the two decades of Blood Brothers, the producers and directors and even actors forgot that Theatre is something that grows and changes over time. While I’m sure that several people would be upset if the writers cut out half of the pointless and sometimes tactless references to a certain blonde-haired actress, most of the audience would understand that at some point the show has to grow beyond its original conception.

Take the Shakespeare performances at the new Globe Theater for instance. It’s pretty safe to say that the performances that go on today are quite far from how they were a few hundred years ago. In As You Like It, Touchstone’s role in the play was expanded to play more of a comedic role. While this was in no means necessary for the progression of the plot, Touchstone’s added hilarity only added to the jubilant and light-hearted nature of the play.

After walking out of Blood Brothers into the fading afternoon with a profound headache, I was struck with a slightly twisted thought. Maybe Blood Brothers should stay at the Phoenix as an exhibit more than a production. People can come from around the world to see what happens when complacency replaces ambition and something that lives and breathes as theatre does can be turned into nothing more than a VHS tape (no DVD’s back then), playing the same video that lost its significance somewhere between the 500^th and 1000^th showing (I’m actually slightly scared to even imagine the 2^nd showing, much less the 1000^th).

A few days ago, Sarah and I finally decided to finally visit the John Soane Museum. Although I had been hearing quite a bit from people about the museum, it is definitely something to be experienced! The museum is a pack-rat’s dream, with each room crowded with so many artifacts and architectural pieces that it is hard to not accidentally graze something with your arm. Even so, the museum was quite sufficient at trying to display as much as they could, for clearly Soane liked to collect a lot of his favorite things.

One of the first things I noticed, being a museum person, was the general upkeep of the museum. About 3/4 of the objects I felt were free to wear and tear from not being under some sort of protection. The house, although it was, I felt, quite large for a home museum in London still could not sufficiently display all of the objects, and I am sure there are even more in storage. My questions were somewhat answered with a visit to the third floor.

On the third floor, it displayed an elaborate plan for future renovations and improvements on the museum. Many of the designs were to expand on the structure and create better ways to display the many, many objects in the museum. As I looked at these displays, I wondered how many of these historic buildings, like the Soane, receive funding. I know in America we have the National Trust for Historic Preservation that funds the upkeep of many a historic site. In London though, I had noticed many museums, historic and art based, being funded by the National Lottery.

I know for me, since I live in Pennsylvania, our lottery “benefits older Pennsylvanians”. The National Lottery here in England though, has an outlet called Good Causes where the money goes towards charitable causes, education, sports, the arts and heritage. For each the art and heritage causes, the Lottery distributed 16.67% of their funds. This was interesting to me because do I rarely see, at least in Pennsylvania, the lottery going towards museums. The National Lottery here in England has benefited museums and art galleries in past decade or so, through increased funding and allowing many of these places to administer free admission. Through both of these benefits of the National Lottery, museums and galleries have seen their attendances increase dramatically. An article called, Museums: after the Lottery boom showed that for example, at the V&A, it “saw attendances increase from 75,773 in November 2000 to 132,882 in November 2001.” This is incredible. From working and volunteering in many museums back at home, I know how many struggle with just attendance, let alone funding.

Now back to the John Soane Museum. Through the Heritage Lottery Fund program, the museum was awarded in 2007 a grant for improvements on the site. They were awarded £28,900 for project planning, education, exhibits, and conservation of the museum. The Soane Museum then waited to submit an application for a grant of £3.3 million for their Opening up the Soane project in March 2008. It has since become a £6 million project to “restore, refirbish, and improve” the Sir John Soane Museum. The main drive for these projects, besides creating a new and improved space, is allowing the museum to be more easily accessable to the disabled, and this is why they can receive much of their funding by claiming as such. According to the Soane Foundation’s website, this is all to be completed in 2012 (along with many other projects in London) for the 200th anniversary of the building at its site.

The National Lottery Good Causes foundation seems to benefit many local and national organizations, museums and galleries included. It has allowed for attendance to be increased through free admission at sites where that is a feat in itself. It has allowed for museums to receiving funding to make the improvements necessary for future generations to learn from and preserve it for them. At first I was skeptical of these places being funded by the National Lottery, but its benefits for all areas of local and national heritage, art and history cannot be beaten. I think this would be a great thing for America to adopt because I have seen one too many museums close in my area from lack of funding, attendance, and support.

If I knew one thing about England before ever setting foot on its soil, it was that drinking is practically the national pastime.  I say that with only the utmost admiration.  Pubs are one of the most entertaining and social places ever invented.  There is hardly a street corner you pass where there is not a pub; they are literally everywhere.  What is amazing about pub life is that almost every pub is aesthetically pleasing and different; historic or modern, the sheer amount of pubs means that you can find one that suits you.  Yet what all pubs share in common is that making friends involves just striking up a conversation.  Whether meeting recent graduates at the Marlborough Arms or a student with a Brazilian flag tied around his neck at The Court, pubs are bound to show you a good time.

As I mentioned before, the variety of pubs in London is amazing.  I would talk about the Marlborough and The Court but I think the vast majority of us have been to both.  So, if you want to go historic there are plenty of pubs with rich history all about the city.  Check out the Ye Olde Mitre hidden down an alleyway on Hatton Garden if you would like to get a true pub experience.  This particular tavern was built in 1547 but was rebuilt after being demolished in 1772.  Interestingly, if you ever saw the film “Snatch,” you may notice that a certain pub in the film resembles the Ye Olde Mitre (because it was filmed there).

For a simply beautiful pub you should check out the Black Friar.  This pub was built in 1875 near a 13^th century Dominican Priory.  As a result, the pub was designed to look like a monastery.  A large monk stature greets you from above just before you enter.  Inside are spectacular scenes of monastic life with incredible amounts of detail.

If you like to dress up in business attire check out the Viaduct Tavern just after working hours.  Almost everyone is dressed in a suit, so if you want to stand out jeans and a t-shirt are recommended.  Though the Viaduct is a fancy looking place, inside it is a bit small.  Nonetheless, the Viaduct is actually a “gin palace” so if you would like a variety of gin, this is the place for you.  In the end, if you want a historic pub or even a “modern” one, London has whatever suits your needs.

My trip to the British Museum was determined by one goal, to see the Parthenon Gallery and then move onto the rest of the Ancient World exhibitions. This goal formed during my junior year of high school when I was taking an AP Art History course. When we began the section on Greek Art and Architecture a main point of our discussion sessions focused on the British Museum’s collections, particularly the Parthenon Collection. I remember vividly the heated debates we had concerning the right of the British Museum to keep the statues taken from the Parthenon. My teacher’s advice on the subject though was to withhold on our final judgment until we could actually view the Parthenon Gallery at the British Museum. So this had me more than just a bit excited to see this exhibition and what else the museum had to offer.
As I entered the Parthenon Gallery, I was struck by the beauty of the friezes, metopes and pediments. The way they are arranged is to show them as they would have appeared on the Parthenon. The metopes and friezes are organized into their appropriate sections and the pieces placed in their original order. It is a unique opportunity to see temple friezes, metopes and pediments from the ground as they were meant to be seen. Yet there is equal beauty in being able to walk along these elements of an ancient temple and being able to view their details at eye level. This exhibition is simple in how it presents the sculptures, but it is the most effective way for the viewers to appreciate the beauty of the Parthenon sculptures. I found myself very appreciative of the gallery and was able to look past the controversy concerning the rights of the British Museum to the ownership of the sculptures.
The question that the museum poses in the pamphlet it printed in response to the controversy is one of not ownership but one concerning the protection and display of the sculptures. It states that the Parthenon was being destroyed at the time when the sculptures were taken by Lord Elgin. It was for preservation of the sculptures that they remained with the British Museum. Moreover, they are part of a collection on the Ancient World, which Greece and the Parthenon were very much part of. So it seems to me, that these sculptures are preserved, protected and appropriately displayed within the British Museum. It is only this preservation, protection, and respectful presentation that persuades people to support the British Museum’s right to keep the statues. Also, there are sculptures from the Parthenon in Greece, at the new Acropolis Museum. If there were no sculptures left to preserve and present in Greece, then my opinion would be different, but since there is preservation and appropriate presentation of them here in London it seems better for them to remain.