Dickinson College Humanities Program in Norwich

The Victoria and Albert Museum in South Kensington is unique in that instead of focusing on one style or type of art, the exhibits at the Victoria and Albert include diverse forms of decoration. I use the term decoration broadly because the museum is essentially a collection of decorative items and artifacts, including porcelain, tapestry, and other furnishings, mostly from the 16th century onward. Also featured are exhibits on sculpture, but that is for another blog.

The museum bills itself as “the greatest museum of art and design”, and in that respect it fulfills its mission. It would be overly simplistic to say that the Victoria and Albert is simply a collection of the conspicuous consumption of the well heeled before the 20th century, but not completely off the mark. The luxurious possessions which comprised the museum included silver and gold gilded tea sets, large tapestries, and detailed porcelain. For example, there was an exhibit on Chinoiserie, which despite its name, was not specifically a Chinese craft. In fact, Chinoserie was a combination of Japanese, Chinese, and Indian motifs designed and produced in Britain in the mid 18th century.

A section which interested me in particular was the exhibit containing artwork and artifacts involving Johnathan Tyers, an ambitious entreprenuer from the 18th century.  Tyers really loved George Friedrich Handel, so much that he commissioned a statue of him for placement in Spring Gardens near Vauxhall.

Taken from (http://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O34256/statue-handel/), by Louis Francois Roubiliac.

This statue features the composer playing the lyre of Orpheus, a mythical figure whose music calmed even the most savage beast. Tyers wanted this statue to be placed in the heart of the Gardens, possibly as symbolism of his campaign to convert the gardens from its earlier seediness. Today, I stopped by the gardens, a five minute walk from the Vauxhaul station on the Victoria line, hoping to see the product of Tyers’ toils. But unfortunately the previous gardens had been razed in order to build housing, and when that housing had been demolished the gardens were not restored to their previous glory. The park had clearly reverted to its seedier nature, judging by the sight of a homeless man passed out on a park bench holding a bottle of whisky…

I am not a big theatre guy, but every Christmas (before they decided to take us to operas instead) my grandparents took my brothers and me to see a Broadway musical. I always enjoyed dressing fancy and taking the train into New York City. I loved walking into the theatre and finding my seat. The load commotion of the audience thrilled me and when the lights started to dim, that’s when I realized what where I was and what I was doing.

The theatre we went to here, however, was so different than what I would experience every winter with my family. I know that the shows we went to were not supposed to be exactly like Broadway, but that’s what I have been accustomed to. I’m used to dancers, lots of extras, enormous props and flashy lights. It’s like what Rick Fisher explained to the group during our first class discussion. Plays are different here in London, they aren’t as glamorous or glitzy. Of course, I didn’t go independently to any plays or musicals, so I can only agree with this based off what I have seen here.

The Marry Wives of Windsor, the first production we saw, was unbelievable. Being inside the Globe Theatre was an experience within itself. We stood just as the groundlings did in Shakespearian times (however we were required to be a little more well mannered). My legs did get tired, but for the most part the performance distracted me. From only reading Shakespeare, I don’t get the nuances and I miss most of the meaning because the language and humor is not what I am used to. But the actors and actresses were able to present so that I actually understood what was going on! It was truly a hilarious play. Although we saw the play at night with lights brightening the stage, and we were able to buy Cokes from a vendor in the audience, I really think I at least got a glance at what it would have been like to see the production when it originally was performed.

Another hilarious show was The 39 Steps, the play adapted from the Alfred Hitchcock film that we saw at The Criterion Theatre. This four-man show was brilliant. It was the most Broadway-like production we saw in London, but really only because of the atmosphere. I didn’t notice until Chris pointed it out, but the play was extremely British. It was most apart in the apologies that the characters would give through out the play. “Sorry” for everything. I enjoyed watching the characters use props in three or for different ways. Chairs became cars and dressers became fireplaces.

I am still unsure about the final visit we had to the theatre, where we saw The Habit of Art. Not only was I a little distracted by Sir Ian McKellen, but my attention began to wane during the transitions between the play we were watching and the play inside the play we were watching (huh?). I heard many classmates say that they would have rather just seen a play about the poet. I got annoyed by the interruptions by the actors, because sometimes I forgot that the play I was watching was not just a play about the poet.

Our tour through the National Theatre was interesting and I really learned a lot about how unique the productions there are. Unlike West End theatres, the National Theatre is not just about making money. The facilities there were awesome, and the fact that almost everything is done on sight (from the making of the props to the making of the costumes) is astonishing. This was my favorite part about being at the National Theatre.

All of the experiences at the theatre were worth it. Though I still believe I am not a big theatre guy, I really enjoyed everything I saw.

Probably because I get a little claustrophobic in cities, my visits to parks have definitely been some of the highlights of my time in London.  I enjoyed the sense of space, the people watching, and the sheer beauty of much of the landscaping.  However, I did pick up on a certain artificiality throughout London’s Green space.

First of all, the lakes, which are in most cases absolutely beautiful, provide variety in scenery, are home to so many (sometimes exotic looking) species of birds, and they also provide a fun and novel activity for those who choose to rent paddle boats.  In St. James Park, the bridge in the middle of the long, central pond is carefully positioned so that visitors can view Buckingham Palace in one direction and the London Eye in the other.  The sheer overcrowding of the birds (and their excrement), especially in St. James Park makes me slightly uncomfortable.  It seems as though London attempts to make up for the obvious lack of wildlife in the rest of its urban environment by crowding high quantities into small, carefully designated areas.   In the “wetlands” area in Regent’s Park, I noticed a rat basking by the water’s edge along side the usual variety of birds.  It goes to show I think, that it is impossible to completely keep out the less picturesque aspects of the city.

The gardens that I visited, and especially those in Regents Park  were absolutely beautiful.  Signs pointed out over twenty different species of roses, and everyone who I saw seemed to walk through slowly.  However, when I reflected on how often the grass must be cut, to keep it that short and the precise patterns in which the plants were arranged, the set up seemed more like a human achievement than natural beauty.  Hours of work daily clearly go in to maintaining the gardens.

Playgrounds in London’s parks also seemed equally controlled .  Every playground that I have seen so far is fenced in, and most do not allow people in unless they have children with them.  These playgrounds, which are often large and colorful, must be a welcome refuge to parents who live in the city and are accustomed to having to constantly watch their children in all public places.  They definitely reinforce my impression that London makes it a priority to provide leisure space, but only carefully controlled leisure space.

That said, anyone is free to walk into the vast majority of London’s parks.  People from all walks of life go there, though it is not a place to interact with strangers.  It is socially acceptable to be alone, with large groups of friends or family, or anything in between.  In many there is enough space to talk loudly, but I was able to find somewhere quiet in Regents Park to sit and read a book.  Maybe all of the control allows for a greater sense of freedom.

St. James Park (Personal Photo)

Hyde Park (personal photo)

This afternoon a barman told me a story about his pub.  He said that in the corner across from where I was sitting Charles Dickens wrote his novels (he didn’t elaborate further) and that on the top floor 1800’s government officials came up with legislation.  There is history, he said, in this place.  It’s too bad that I’d seen exactly the same decor and menu in three other London pubs.

It’s no secret that modern London’s pubs are mostly corporate-owned and operated.  I’ve been to maybe fifteen and there have been four or five structural models that each follow- each one corresponding to a different corporate owner (Young’s, Fuller’s, etc.).  While each pub in any given structure has its own name, they’re all, in actuality, links in the corporate chain.  There are pros and cons to this little situation.  The food that the pubs churn out is relatively low priced and consistently good quality.  The regulations within the corporate structure make sure of that.  The pubs themselves are, usually, well-maintained in terms of cleanliness and furnishings.  They give off airs of old-country quaintness and warmth.  Those are the pros.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/lastrounds/429522540/

The cons are a little bit more subtle.  The pubs are warm and the seats are comfortable.  The music is American.  The bartenders are Bulgarian and Italian.  I don’t know if it’s a fair complaint to make, but it seems like these pubs are much more Ruby Tuesday’s than Leaky Cauldron (for all you Harry Potter fans).  The authenticity seems to have been drawn out as the corporate model has taken hold.  When I think “London pub” (or, thought, before I got to know the city) the images conjured are more rugged and organic than what I see now.  It’s not that I have anything against cleanliness or order.  I just expected the neighborhood pubs to be visually representative of the neighborhoods themselves.  Instead, they seem to be systematically reproduced molds of what is perceived to be “authentically English”.  Correct me if I’m wrong, but if “authenticity” becomes something striven for, quantified, and fabricated, doesn’t it cease to be authentic?

The Marquis of Granby around 18:00 (personal photo)

Even more so than Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, possibly even the Queen herself, the first thing that comes to mind when Americans hear “England” is pubs. (At least when American college students hear “England.”) I don’t think I exaggerate when I say this. (Do I?) When we first arrived in England, hitting the pubs was at the top of our to-do list and it has pretty much stayed there throughout our time here. Whether we are unwinding at the end of the day, or enjoying a (culturally acceptable! awesome) midday pint, it is almost inevitable that we find ourselves in a pub at some point during the day.

In his essay, “The Moon Under Water,” George Orwell describes his ideal pub. Before arriving in England, my romanticized vision of what a pub would be like was much like what Orwell describes. I certainly did not envision strawberry-pink china and children running around as Orwell did, but the familiarity, the “regulars,” and the “atmosphere” were all very distinct in my imagined pub, an amalgamation of bits and pieces, images and texts, from the likes of Harry Potter books and movies, works by Charles Dickens and Shakespeare, paintings, children’s books, and countless other popular culture representations.

While I haven’t experienced exactly what I imagined, not surprisingly, the look of English pubs, what I call the “pub aesthetic,” has been consistent with what I envisioned. Pubs are not light, airy spaces, they are not in line with current commercial interior decorating trends, they are decidedly old-looking. A color palette of some combination of maroon, deep forest green, rich chocolate brown, navy blue, black, and some muted taupe-y hues is de rigueur. Generally, at least some or all of the walls will be wood-paneled, as well as the countertops. The chairs, stools, and tables are generally made of wood as well, possibly with iron bases for extra sturdiness. You will be served your drink in a real glass- nothing is plastic. (An exception to the “pub aesthetic” is the pub popular amongst our group, The Court, which has more of a Potbelly’s/Buffalo Wild Wings atmosphere, and I wouldn’t classify it as a traditional English pub. To me at least, The Court feels a bit artificial, a little too streamlined.)

As American tourists who don’t necessarily know our way around, we often end up in pubs on the main roads in the touristy areas. Also as Americans, we think of drinking as a predominantly nighttime activity, as our bars generally don’t open til 8pm or later. So we were initially puzzled when we discovered that nearly all of the pubs close at 11 and appear deserted after 9pm. We soon discovered that in England, pubs are much more like American coffee shops than American bars.

Like Orwell, I believe the best pubs are those off the beaten path, down the side streets and through the alleys. For the best pub experience, get off of Tottenham Court Rd. and go right at the end of the typical office work hours, then you will find scenes like the one pictured above at the Marquis of Granby. The pubs on the side streets are where you will find the locals, where you will see people drinking on the crowded pavement outside the crowded pub, hear snippets of every day gossip and banter, and observe the Brits really being Brits.

On a whim (and because it is the last required museum I haven’t visited), a few of us visited the Sir John Soane museum a couple of Wednesdays ago. Having had no introduction to the museum, we were slightly confused as we arrived at our destination. The man at the gates of this unremarkable-looking English town house first complained that there were eight of us and asked kindly that we “not go around together.” He then had the ladies put their purses into plastic bags to be carried around with them. I had to sign the entire group in on a huge log book and we were off!

We entered the museum but instead of being greeted by an introduction or explanation, we came to room upon room of art and sculpture. The rooms were oddly shaped and almost all lit by giant skylights in the ceilings. As I later learned, John Soane was an architect and he intended his home to serve as an educational space and and inspiration for his students. All of the spaces are top lit so as to allow as much space as possible on the walls for art work. Here’s a picture that gives you an idea of just how packed the museum is. It also shows the high ceilings and circular skylight which was a feature of almost every room.

http://www.creative-freelance.org.uk/reviews/soane.html

I have to say, this was the strangest museum I visited while in London and it was also my favorite. It was unlike any other place we went and it seemed to me quintessentially British. It was inexplicably quirky and reveled in its own strangeness. It was unexpected and unclear and a bit odd.

My impressions of the other museums are as follows:

Victoria and Albert: Interesting but without a cohesive character, unless you count imperialism as a unifying force.

National Portrait Gallery: Anything after 1600 was interesting, anything before was all the same. Admittedly not the most nuanced view but without a bit more context for the portraits I was viewing in the Tudor and Stuart Halls, I was bored by them. I especially enjoyed the Victorian era stuff.

British Museum: Also a product of imperialism but more educational than the Victoria and Albert because I think that the curative work was more focused on teaching us about the places Britain had stolen from. I thought that the podcasts were especially good since they made an effort to contextualize the pieces.

National Gallery: In general, I really enjoyed the artwork. I was disappointed by the Japanese Bridge that they have. Not Monet’s best effort.

Cabinet War Rooms: I enjoyed the War Rooms more for the place than the museum but since the place is so historically important, I found it interesting.

Natural History Museum: The attraction here was more the building than the exhibits themselves which was striking. There are mosaics all over the walls of animals, plants, and fossils. The best exhibit here was also the most mundane. The giant collection of minerals was my favorite part of the museum. It took up an entire hall and held over a hundred cases of any rock or mineral you’d ever want to see.

London’s public parks are impressive, in their size, beauty, and sheer number. Most people go to these parks to play sports, have picnics, hang out with their mates (both kinds), sit and read under a tree, etc., but my favorite park activity is people watching; and nowhere in London is the people watching better than in Hyde Park’s Speaker’s Corner. Speaker’s Corner is like an internet chat forum come to life, attracting people from every imaginable social background and point of view. Immaculately dressed women toting around their four figure handbags walk by elderly Sikh men in skull caps with long, gray beards. Middle school aged children in football jerseys weave between bikers and joggers. Indian grandmas in wheelchairs are pushed by their grandkids past punk teenagers in six inch platform boots. London’s parks truly attract all kinds, and Speaker’s Corner is the ideal place to find a varied audience if you have something to say, simply set up your little stool, hop on, and begin your diatribe against the government, the media, the cursed masses, who or whatever. If you have anything even remotely interesting to say, a crowd will soon form around you. Wearing a funny costume doesn’t hurt either, the crazier the better.

Just a guy feeding the pigeons. (personal photo)

I’ve simply strolled through most of the parks here, stopping every now and then to admire a flower or dodge a pile of dog poop, but Hyde Park caught my attention and kept it. Right across from the tail end of the Oxford St. madness you will find the Marble Arch, and beyond it a massive expanse of green space. Speaker’s Corner is lodged conveniently in the middle. The first character I encountered was a militant African man speaking out against the war in Iraq. He looked to be about 25 or so, and around him stood a rather sizable crowd. There was also a group of four physically fit 20 somethings advertising a personal training service and attracting quite a crowd with their boxing gimmick. One of the men held up a pad on each hand and challenged people in the crowd to get in 200 punches in one minute. A group of south asian men egged each other on in friendly competition as the crowd laughed and cheered. I was asked to participate, but declined the request. After I had had my fill of watching overweight middle-aged men try and fail to show off athletic prowess, I moved over to listen to a capital C Crazy preacher and the bemused, laughing, and heckling crowd around him.

Belligerent preacher pointing at me and asking me something silly like if I knew where I was going when I died. (personal photo)

My favorite speaker was a grizzled old man sartorially channeling the Gorton’s Fisherman. He had a much smaller crowd around him, an interesting mix of homeless people and business men in suits and ties, and me. He wasn’t so much Speaking as having an intimate conversation with his little crowd, discussing poetry and painting, interspersed with personal anecdotes of questionable validity.

Past all of this, Hyde Park is like all the rest, and if you walk in far enough you will undoubtedly be able to stake out your own patch of serenity. Muslin women in full burkas sit and read, couples sit shoulder to shoulder on blankets, its all really a very nice scene. I guess the behavior in the park could be described as English, in that, aside from the liminal space of Speaker’s Corner, people seem to keep themselves, on the whole, its all very orderly.

Mates playing a bit of footie. (personal photo)

We were asked by our professor to investigate the culture and society that revolves within and around pubs in London. I honestly think he didn’t even have to require us to do it; we did it instinctively. But nevertheless I did what I was asked to do grudgingly, just kidding, I definitely did it willingly. And what I found in my short experience with pubs was that to the British or Londoners in general the pub is the equivalent of the American coffee shop with just a little more pizzazz.

Since our first day in London we have been to a variety of Pubs ranging from overtly tourist pubs to a bit more native pubs. In all the pubs that I visited there is a sense of privacy. Some people who have just gotten off of work go to pubs with co-workers discussing the day’s events over a pint. Others go to pubs alone seeking a sense of solitude to relieve some of the stress. Yet, others attend a pub to see the playing field pick up on someone and maybe have a good night. That is why drinking in the United Kingdom has a largely different connotation to that of the United States. I believe it has more of a positive air than back home. Yes like any other place there are alcoholics here but the majority that I have seen are able to compose themselves and carry on with life.

I definitely had to learn a couple of things when it came to ordering drinks and food at pubs. I first had to learn that customer service in the UK is virtually non-existent. Second there are no waiters what so ever, you go to the bar and order for yourself. Third and this is the most important part, you have to KNOW WHAT YOU WANT BEFORE YOU REACH THE BAR. If you fail at any of these three unwritten guidelines there is no ale for you. Considering I am a fast decision maker I had no trouble with this but I have definitely seen people get some glares of annoyance when they reach the bar and hold up the line.

As George Orwell wrote in his essay entitled The Moon Under Water, people favor not over the beer that they sell or the furniture they but instead its based upon what they call “atmosphere”.  From the pubs I have been to my favorite by far has got to be the Marlborough Arms. What makes this my favorite from all the other pubs I have been is based on two aspects. The first is simply that I have been there so many times the staff already knows me and they crack jokes with me. It makes me feel like I am part of the establishment and above all makes me feel welcomed.  And second they always, always have the best selection of American music. They play music that I haven’t heard in years. The place just simply lifts up my mood.

Pubs have been a place for people of diverging backgrounds to convene and have in depth conversations of life, politics, and religion. This has been true of London in the past where great minds discussed the status of the general welfare, like Karl Marx, and it is still true today. I have grown to love and appreciate the pub scene in London, and I look for forward to this next year.

As you all probably know, the Jewish high holidays, Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur were over this past week and a half.  The combination of these days and being in a new place has, along with making me more than a little homesick, made me curious to explore Jewish communities in London.  I was lucky enough to encounter three very Jewish communities here: the West London Synagogue, which I attended for Rosh Hashanah services, the Liberal Jewish Synagogue, for Yom Kippur services, and The Central London Synagogue, which we visited as a group.

As with the various Jewish communities in the States, these three synagogues were drastically different from one another.  The Central London Synagogue (where I did not attend a service), is Orthodox.  I could tell the moment that we walked in, based on the layout of the sanctuary, with separate seating for men and women.  The West London Synagogue is Reform, but I did not experience the type of Reform Jewish service that I am accustomed to at home: it was over all more “traditional reform,” with less music, and even less Hebrew than I prefer.  The Liberal Jewish Synagogue’s service was easily my favorite, probably because it was the most like the synagogue that I grew up attending.  There, the audience sang along with the choir and the rabbi.  Some folk music was incorporated, and I heard and read along with more Hebrew than at the Reform service, although many prayers were still said in English.  I finished a very personally fulfilling Yom Kippur by taking a walk in Regents Park and talking with my family on the phone.

But what struck me more than the disorientation I experienced as I explored the various synagogues, was how much felt familiar. Fundamentally, I experienced the same prayers, similar music, a few people conspicuously wearing mesh sneakers with their dresses or suits, so as not to wear leather on Yom Kippur, and many congregants greeting each other enthusiastically with “Shana Tovah,” (have a good new year).  (Even many aspects of the Orthodox synagogue were very familiar, though I do not agree with much of the Orthodox viewpoint.)  It made me think of what I was often told by adults when I was younger, but never gave much thought to: wherever in the world I go, I can find something familiar by visiting a Jewish community.

Despite (and maybe because of) the familiarity, I was startled near the end of the first service I attended to hear a prayer for the queen.  I wondered if it was historically based, maybe something required in all religious services in England during a certain time period.  But this added prayer turned out a difference that demonstrated another similarity.

Our guide at the Orthodox synagogue that we visited explained a stained glass window that honored the Queen by telling us that a prayer for the Queen is added because the safety of the Jews always depends on the safety of the country in which they are living.  Therefore, the prayer for the Queen corresponds to the prayer briefly said at my synagogue at home for peace within “our nation.”  So saying a prayer for “our Sovereign Lady Queen Elizabeth,” is just a very English way of following a custom that I have seen in services for my whole life.  I wonder how many other differences in Jewish customs and synagogues worldwide can be traced back to the same ideas as one another.

Note: much of the following appears, verbatim, in this Thursday’s Dickinsonian. The formatless-format is explained there, but the manner in which it is done there is incongruous with this blog.

As our syllabus eloquently says, “London is too vast—as both a place and an idea—to grasp it all.” Conveniently, it’s more my style anyway to tell a few short anecdotes and leave it to the reader to weave them together rather than give one lengthy narrative.

That said, here are a few random moments that I’ll remember well after we’re back in the states.

On a subway ride back from Westminster one Sunday, a large man wearing a suit and tie (although his collar was covered in food) came up ranting and raving to our group of four Americans. “That guy sitting next to me over there was [fondling] his girlfriend! I don’t care if you do it a hundred times at home, but not on the f**king Tube! I AM TRYING TO CONCENTRATE!” It should be noted that this man, allegedly deep in concentration, was not reading, working, or listening to music. He was simply “trying to concentrate.” At first, I found this hilarious. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought it articulated the philosophy of the stoic and silent Brits we see every day on the Tube. Many do not read, many do not listen to music. But all do not speak to or make eye contact with each other. They’re just trying to concentrate.
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British women, or at least women in London, are really tall.
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We’ve taken all kinds of tours. We’ve toured places: Westminster Abbey, St. Paul Cathedral, the University of Oxford, Greenwich, Bloomsbury, the East End, and Stratford. We’ve done tours with themes: Marx’s London, Roman London, Restoration London. As Pat put it, though, “I’d like to take a trash cans, bathrooms, and water fountains tour, as there are none of those things in this city.” You can walk for miles in Westminster and not see a single trash can; they have all been removed from the area around Parliament and the prime minister’s residence because of susceptibility to terrorist attacks.
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Things in London close very early by American standards. Most restaurants outside of Burger King and McDonald’s are closed by 9:00 (or, as it’s known here, 21:00) and earlier on Sundays. So it was a major pleasant surprise when a few of us found a Subway that was open nightly until 5:00 AM. But it was extremely bewildering? Why this Subway, when four more from the same chain within two miles close around the usual London time?

This mystery was solved when it was realized that there was a strip club across the street that was open until 4:00 AM nightly.