Dickinson College Humanities Program in Norwich

After spending a month in London and visiting a plethora of museums, they all are beginning to blur together in my mind.  I have an easier time remembering specific pieces included in the museums that I loved rather than the overall museum itself, but I’ll try to relay my general sentiments of my final two destinations, the Sir John Soane and the Victoria and Albert Museums.

I felt that the Sir John Soane Museum was fascinating, but was distracted by how much was packed into such a small space.  I wasn’t able to fully enjoy what I was looking at simply because I got a bit claustrophobic.  On the flip side, though, it certainly was impressive how much was packed into the equivalent of three townhouses.  One of my favorite aspects was the collection of clocks included in the house, because it reminded me of our trip to Greenwich and the importance of early timepieces.  His particular collection stuck me because it really showed how clocks were once a symbol of status, specifically that which was made for Christopher Wren by Queen Anne.

Although the Sir John Soane Museum had interesting artifacts and art, I much preferred the Victoria and Albert Museum.  My favorite section was the sculptures portion on the ground floor, and I spent a great deal of time exploring there.  I enjoyed reading the captions to each, for example, a plaque under a bust of Albert Einstein stated that he was a culmination of “the humane, the humorous, and the profound.”  Another statue, a monument to one Emily Georgiana, moved me in saying “I who dreamed wildly and madly/am happy to die.”  The writing on that statue seemed simultaneously inspiring and sad, and I’ve thought of that quote often since reading it for the first time.  My favorite actual work was a bronze piece created to hang above a fireplace depicting a nude man and woman entwined while being watched by a shocked and disgusted crowd.  Made by Charles Sargeant, “Scandal” was interesting to me because it showed not only a couple in love (as many works do) but also the rarely shown negative reaction of the surrounding community.  Lovers in art are so often isolated, so seeing a different perspective within the work was certainly interesting.

To summarize my previous blog entries regarding museums, I was unaffected by the British Museum, disliked the Tate Modern, moderately enjoyed the Cabinet War Rooms and Churchill Museum, and loved both the National Gallery and the Victoria and Albert museum.

Sitting in the middle of this park in Bath I feel completely at peace.  The beauty and simplicity of this place is hard to explain. In some ways it reminds me of a George Winston song—a solo pianist with an air of solitude and joy.  In other ways it’s like Kenny Chesney song— just simple, upbeat happiness…I really want to dance in this park.  So much open space.  People, joy, a little bit of music; it’s all I need. If I had more confidence maybe I would just get up and dance right here. Maybe.

I found this journal entry when looking through my notes and remembered this day in the park at Bath, but those sentiments were not ones I got solely in that park.  There is something different about the parks in London, about the open green space that is different from parks back at home.  Instead of feeling like you’re in a vast open area in the middle of a big crowded city at the parks here I feel like I’m stepping into my own private garden.  There are not that many parks in Boston where I feel like I am in solitude like I am in these London parks.  I have spent significant amounts of time in past summers in Copley Square Park, the green space by the Hatchshell, and even the Boston Commons and Garden.  Even though parks everywhere are intended used for running, playing, and enjoying the outdoors in Boston Parks I never feel like I am completely separate from the chaos of the city; I still here cars, and horns, and yelling, which I have never felt surrounded by in UK parks.

I remember my feeling when I first ran into Regent’s Park.  I had been jogging down Euston Road dodging men and women in business suits until I finally found the opening to the park and it was like stepping into a movie.  The sun was up, the air crisp, a few other joggers in the park and when I came to the Avenue filled with blossoming flowers and running fountains I seriously felt like the female lead in the newest upcoming blockbuster. I went to St. James Park later that week and had very similar sentiments.  Only a few yards away from a main road, and yet it was a place of peace and quiet.

These places make me feel like a child again.  All I want to do is run around, play, and to dance.  But then again, when don’t I want to run around, play, and to dance.

Although I have blogged, to some extent, about most academic things I have done in London, I feel that I have a better impression of most things now than I did at the beginning of the stay.  Along this vein, I feel the need to revise, or just plain state, my opinions on the “Big Five” topics – parks, churches, museums, theatres, and pubs.

I have now been to five of the Royal Parks in London.  Green Park, Kensington Gardens, Hyde Park, Regent’s Park, and St James’ Park are all very similar and yet very different in their own ways.  I found Green Park, situated very close to Buckingham Palace, to have the most unfriendly atmosphere of the five.  There is very little to Green Park.  There are trees, benches, grass, the ever-popular lawn chairs for rent, and beautiful ornate gates facing Buckingham Palace.  I think the reason I found the park so cold is that it was, well, too green.  There were no flowers or water features (except for one fountain commemorating the Canadians), just trees, grass, and benches. 

This is vastly different from the other four parks I visited.  St James’ Park, Hyde Park, Regent’s Park, and Kensington Gardens all were beautifully landscaped with brightly colored flowers, clean fountains, scultpures, and natural or constructed water features.  In Hyde Park, Regent’s Park, and Kensington Gardens it was easy to forget that you were in the middle of a pollution-filled city.  As I am not much of a city person, it was extremely refreshing for me to not be able to hear or see traffic for a while.  With Green Park and St James’ Park, I couldn’t shake that feeling.  However, I am a firm believer that parks, whether or not they are within city limits, always make people feel healthier.  For this reason and the sheer beauty that the parks portrayed in their different ways, I understand why I did not only see tourists, but the people of London as well. 

Gates towards Buckingham Palace from Green Park

Churches and other places of worship are an integral part of societies throughout the world.  Throughout our time in London, we have been fortunate enough to visit Westminster Abbey, St Paul’s Cathedral, a Sikh gurdwara, and a Hindu temple.  Of these four I enjoyed St Paul’s Cathedral the most from a purely historical standpoint and the Hindu temple most from a cultural perspective.  St. Paul’s is one of the most recognizable and interesting buildings in London.  It not only houses some of the most important military remains in the country (the Duke of Wellington and Admiral Nelson), but it was one of the most iconic images of WWII Britain.  I also found it to be less like a museum where I felt like hop-scotching around graves in the floor (Westminster Abbey) and much more like a place of worship. 

I enjoyed the Hindu temple for very different reasons.  Although there was a definite sense of it being a tourist attraction, with the gift shop in the lobby and the interpretive centre with tiny models of Hindu gods, the temple was still very obviously, well, a temple.  Before going there, I had no idea what Hinduism was like.  I knew that there are multiple gods and that one is an elephant, but I didn’t know about their dedication to peace and volunteer work.  What really struck me about it was that the intricate carving and craftsmanship of the facility was all done by volunteers.  I think that this cultural experience was only heightened by being able to observe a service in the sanctuary that was so unlike my own Roman Catholic faith.

St Paul's Cathedral - a symbol and a place of worship

I had very mixed experiences with museums in London.  Some, like the Victoria and Albert, I just didn’t seem to understand in the amount of time I spent there.  However, I think that if I went back and dedicated a day to the facility, I would appreciate how the seemingly-random exhibits link together much better.  (I did enjoy the items on display in the V&A, I just had an issue with the layout of the museum.)  Other museums, like the Museum of London and the Docklands Museum, were put together in a very fluid and informative manner that I enjoyed greatly.  My two biggest museum issues were with the British Museum and Sir John Soane’s Home/Museum.  Grace and I wrote extensively on our thoughts on the British Museum, so instead of repeating everything, I’ll just give a brief summary: why are all of these amazing artifacts that have no connection to Britain in the British Museum? 

The Sir John Soane Museum is a completely different story.  I appreciated that the museum was free and displayed an extremely eclectic collection, but please never make me go back there ever again!  It was the single most claustrophobic place I have ever been in my entire life with possibly one exception.  Call it a personal thing, I do not like it when random pieces of monuments are mounted on the ceiling directly above my head.  I am also not a big fan of walking into a room in a house and having literally hundreds of sculpture eyes staring at me from every surface around me.  I disliked it so much that I could not even finish going through it, and anyone who has been in a museum with me will know that I read and see as much as I possibly can.  I don’t understand why that creepy building perfectly-suited to be a haunted house at Halloween is called a museum.  (Please if you can attempt to explain it to me, go right ahead!)

Theatre is a subject I have talked about in a couple of different posts (Observations on Accessibility and Blood Painters and Pitmen Brothers), however, I have not discussed theatre in general.  I was lucky enough to see Troilus and Cressida, All’s Well That Ends Well, Arcadia, The Pitmen Painters, and Blood Brothers.  Each of these theatre experiences were extremely different, but all valuable in their own ways.  Troilus and Cressidawas shown in the Globe Theatre and we had groundling tickets that forced us to stand for the 3 hour performance.  The actual standing wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be, but the best thing about the show was being quite literally three-to-four feet away from the actors on stage.  (Actually, it was slightly amusing when Hector died and was lying 3 feet away in our line of sight for the last 20 minutes of the play!) The staging of this Shakespearian play was vastly different to All’s Well That Ends Well, which was put on in the National Theatre.  In the Globe, the sets are quite minimal because they have to perform four or five different shows on the same stage in the space of a few days.  The set for All’s Well That Ends Well was much more elaborate and specialized for the show.  Rather than the reliance on the actors and the costumes that the Globe used to tell you where the play was occurring, All’s Well That Ends Well used a dark set with elaborate staircases to add to the mood of characters and the dialogue.

Much like with Troilus and Cressida, the set for Arcadia was also pretty simple.  Although the play took place in two different years, it was set in exactly the same room with almost all of the same props.  This was a very effective way to stage the show and allowed for the writer, Tom Stoppard, to do some very interesting things with the characters from both time periods, like when he had them all in the room at the same time, oblivious to each other.  I particularly enjoyed the way that this play was set and how basic it was.  It was vastly different from the more complicated sets of The Pitmen Painters, which included projection screens, and Blood Brothers, which had lots of windows for the Devil/God character to peer creepily out of. 

This final subject I have not blogged about at all.  Pubs are an integral part of British culture.  That said, pubs are also an integral part of Irish culture, so I experienced pub life when I lived in Ireland.  British pubs and Irish pubs have a lot of similarities and differences.  In both places, you must push viciously up to the bar in order to get your food and drink, you have to be 18 to have alcohol, smoking must be done outside, and there are usually way too many people in the pub for you to feel comfortable.  Oh, and you always pay way more than you think you should for your drink.  I’ve been to a couple of pubs in London and have found that they are all fairly similar.  The bartenders are nice, but kind of frantic; the food is good, and usually relatively cheap; and the music is God-awful 1980s or techno playing at volumes that are way too loud.  The first two are cohesive with pretty well every Irish pub I’ve ever been in, the third is not.  Irish pubs play good music… or at least much better music than I’ve heard here!  There are a lot of pubs that have a band playing traditional Irish music in front of you in the pub for pints and there are also a lot that play modern music at volumes that make my ears want to cry – but at least the music isn’t a Cher and Meatloaf duet accompanied with the weirdest music video I have ever seen in my entire life.  (This particular musical masterpiece was played in The Court the other day.  I never would have thought of that particular combination, but oooooookkkkkkkkkk.)  Truth be told, I just want to find a comfortable pub with some good music and that will make me just as happy as George Orwell’s fictitious Moon Under Water.

So this past week has been filled with a variety of theatre experiences that have made me laugh, think, cheer, clap, be moved, and even ask “wtf.” The two pieces that I would like to focus on, completely juxtapose the other, but nevertheless illustrate London’s diversity in the theatre going experience.  Both this play and the musical made me ask questions, but in two completely different ways.

On Thursday just after finishing my practice for the Brixton group walking tour, we rushed over to the Globe theatre. Since we had been there before, we knew that the play was going to be wonderful, and to our surprise it didn’t disappoint.  However it was the evening play,that would make me fall in love with British theatre.

After grabbing a bight to eat and relaxing at the hotel for a moment, Flo, Jeyla, and I headed towards the National theatre. I was not at all excited for this performance, in part because I was exhausted from the days’ events and partly because I didn’t want to sit through a second three hour play. Little did I know that from the beginning of the play I would be on the edge of my seat, completely drawn in to the characters of The Pitmen Painter’s.  Immediately when the play began I was forced into the lives of these diverse men of the working class. The “realness” and authenticity that each actor/character brought to the table was extraordinary and noticeable from the first moments in the play. As the play continued I was lost in a world that I had a deep connection with. The symbolism for art and their understanding of it was beautifully connected to how these men lived. They learned that it wasn’t fame, or money that made u successful as artists but their ability to paint. This had a profound effect on me and my connection to dance. For years and even to this day, I imagined my life as being a professional dancer, but because of this amazing opportunity I had to grow as a student in a higher academic institution, I put my plans on hold. The Pitmen painters made me realize that not only do I still have time to do all that I want and more, but that what makes me a dancer and choreographer is not the fame and recognition that o would receive for my pieces, but my ability to create dances and the satisfaction that I get from performing. It isn’t about anybody else, and I thought that the Pitmen Painters taught me something that I was never ever to realize before and I am grateful to have experienced such an amazing piece of work.

However, on Saturday going to see Blood Brothers I felt like I my ears were going to bleed to death because of how terrible it was. Blood Brothers is easily the worst “musical” I have ever seen in all my life. In the beginning it seemed as if it would be a great performance and because it was a musical I was way more excited than the other performances. But I was sadly mistaken. The play began with the potential of being a well performed musical, until Marilyn Monroe. She was, throughout the entire bloody musical, and the funny thing, is that she has been dead for decades, but I can tell you after Blood Brothers she is no longer resting in piece.  The singing was great but I could not stand how everyone overacting. The most dreadful part was the narrator, playing god. At every turn he would come in and ruin a scene that had the potential of being somewhat descent.  At the end of the performance the rest of the crowd gave a standing ovation, while the Norwich Humanities group looked in awe questioning the sanity of the rest of the audience.

Overall my theatre going experience in London was phenomenal. London has the most diverse performing art venues I have ever witnessed. From Shakespeare to Dickens and all the in-between whatever you want to see you can find in London. Most of the plays were amazing and the theatres and their architecture was unique in every way. All in all I can say that I have fallen in love with British theatre, and I can’t wait to return.

Flo , Jeyla and I visited the The Sir John Soane Museum last week and to our surprise it proved to be quite interesting. We were greeted by a wonderful doors’ men and when he asked why we were there, he really made me think. Of course we went to visit the museum as a requirement for class, but was there any personal significance in going. As I traveled up the steps to what used to be Sir Johns’ house I kept replaying that question over and over in my head.

The security guard checked the girls bag in, and took ice cold coca-cola from my hands as I entered the museum. Having just bought the drink I became a little sad, until I made an abrupt right turn into the library of Sir John’s house I was stunned by the collection of books that he owned. I saw a huge variety, even books from the author Jean Jaque Reasoue. I could not believe my eyes, this one man possessed some of the most famous pieces of literature ever published. This became the motif of the house, as the man collected am array, of rare items throughout his home and museum.

Not only were the pieces of art amazing but the architecture in the home was phenomenal. Having been one of the most famous architects of his time, Soane designed his home and museum with natural light, in a way that gave a surreal tone to the pieces on display. There was a vibe in each and every room different from the one previous to it, making it unique and special in its own way, and I found myself appreciating each section in a different way. It was an amazing experience to be able to walk into the many rooms and levels of the house and feel as if I was in a different room, just by turning the corner.

I had a sudden realization of why I came to the museum. Besides it being a requirement, and Sir John being a very important part of London’s history, was that the museum in its own right adds to the collective experience of London. To see one of the most famous architects in of all London’s house was so breathtaking. He created some of the buildings that define London as such a unique city. Not only that but his appreciation and passion for art allowed me to see a world I had never known existed. The building and the experience was one like any other.

As a five year old, I preferred the swingset in my backyard to the television (unless the Power Rangers was on…but that is not important). As a seventeen/eighteen year old, I gained a whole new appreciation for the outdoors thanks to Valley Forge Park – the enormous, deer-ridden oasis in the middle of suburban Pennsylvania, home to hikers, bikers, picnics, and monuments (telling the park’s oft-told story when it was home to the Revolutionary Army). I have stayed in that park for hours on end – reading, laying, walking, and just being lazy. The ability to lay out on the grass surrounded by huge trees brought me closer to nature and the elements.

I should take a step back. I am not a hiker, nor do I spend every day longing for the outdoors. I am not about to mimic Christopher McCandless’ journey through Alaska and “Into the Wild”. Sure, I enjoy spending summer afternoons outdoors. Yes, I will absolutely take a trip to the park over a movie. That’s about as far as I go, though. That said, London’s parks immediately appealed to my sense of nature. They were beautiful and awe-inspiring. Only 48 hours prior to this post, I told a whole group of people that I could spend every day in these parks as long as I had a book in one hand and a warm drink in the other.

After closer investigation and reflection, I begin to wonder if these parks are not as idyllic as I had thought.

The parks in London have very different personalities. How can a park have a personality? Consider the sprawling grassy area of Regent’s Park. This area houses limited (if any) space for concert venues – the only area that sticks out is a playground for children. Rarely anyone takes a seat on the well-kept grassy areas (This was shown by the looks of confusion and sounds of incredulity as people passed by as we discussed Mrs. Dalloway and the Blitz.).

This directly contrasts with the immediate impressions of the even larger Hyde Park, which has areas that remain overgrown, raw, and certainly less manicured than other Royal Parks. Perhaps this is a reason this park is used more often for big venues and frequented by large crowds. Regardless, the park gives off a much more functional and natural, for lack of a better word, perspective of nature. Now Maddie will briefly discuss the importance of recreation in the three parks that I have just described.

“The Regent’s Park consists of two circles, which are intended to communicate with each other, but an experienced person is sometimes puzzled to discover how. The houses which nearly surround the outward ring are looked upon as wonders of architectural design and execution. The liberality of the genius employed is manifested in the generous conglomeration of style which is everywhere apparent. The Corinthian and Ionic are continually contrasted with the simple Doric and the street-doric.” -1842

These are the first few comments given by locals who visited Regents Park around the time it was first established in the early 19^th century. The area was beautiful even then, filled with flowers and beautiful buildings encompassing the wide-open spaces. Yet, when I think of “parks” I imagine people running, playing frisbee, riding bikes, and enjoying the sunshine. I imagine laughter, games, and little kids. However, from my numerous visits to Regents Park (as well as St.James’s), I really haven’t noticed this kind of innocent, healthy fun like I have in Hyde Park. Therefore, in this part of our blog, I’ll discuss what is acceptable recreation in a these three London parks.

In Regents Park, as Brandon noted before, there was plenty of open space but few people laying the grass (such a crime). Even during our class discussions outside, I noticed many runners but few families taking little kids on picnics, playing tag or simply running around. The runners themselves ran through the beautiful park but seemed too focused on their exercise to really pay attention to the beautiful landscape. Or maybe that is just what Regents Park is to them: a beautiful landscape, a perfect and idyllic area to safely run through, but never stop to take in. Therefore, Brandon and I came to realize that although this park is majestic and lovely, it lacks a purpose. Parks are meant to be more than simply a gorgeous place to jog about, they are meant to be used to relax, catch time for oneself, and rejuvenate and quench the soul’s longing for peace and quiet amidst the busy city life.

St. James’s Park acted very similarly, though arguably more unfriendly than Regents Park. In my own personal experience at St. James’s, I found it to be “stuffy” so to speak. The grass was trimmed perfectly; the walkways clean, the pigeons even kept away. We had to pay to sit in the chairs. I visited the website that describes St. James’s Park and of course the web designers discuss the picnics in the park, the alcohol served in the restaurant in the middle of the park, the outdoor activities that take place, and the free concerts. Yet still no bikes are allowed, ball games are restricted to specific areas of the park, and people may only gather together in at very most groups of 20 to avoid “over-crowding”—this means our humanities group would not be allowed to sit and hold class there and enjoy the surroundings.

The final park that we decided to discuss was Hyde Park which both Brandon and I found to be the most “park-ish” if I may. This means that we both felt it to bring in a wider variety of people, allowing and encouraging more recreational activity. We also noticed more people strolling around the extensive 350 acre landscape instead of just running through. Another plus is that everything about this park is free; you don’t need to pay to sit in chairs or benches and you don’t need to pay to enter. Hyde Park also contains the Serpentine Lake, a spot for swimming, boating, picnicking and fishing and it is open to the public to use often. Also, Hyde Park is host to a variety of free concerts during the summer and encourages people to visit, both locals and tourists.

Overall, recreation is an important part of any park. However some parks are more successful at creating an atmosphere in which a diverse group of people are welcome to sit outside and enjoy nature. Instead most of these parks boarding on feeling rather synthetic and fake (excluding Hyde) and therefore we were interested to see how each of these three parks incorporated and valued recreational activity.

Today Sarah and Alli ventured into the Cabinet War Rooms and the Churchill Museum. From remarks from our classmates, we thought it would be a quick trip through, but it most certainly was not! The museum was packed full of video footage, interactive exhibits, artifacts, and sheer information. For us to fully read and thoroughly explore the place, it probably would have taken us about 3 hours. Since it was the most interactive and technology-based of all the museums we had gone to in London, we would like to further discuss the use of these ideas.

Both of us have worked with museums and exhibits this summer, so neither of us can help it but to look at exhibits with a more critical eye. The Churchill Museum, only just recently opened in February 2005, relies on its “cutting-edge technology and multimedia displays” to bring Churchill’s story to life. The displays include a 15 metre-long interactive lifeline that, by sliding your fingertips along a strip, you can access information from every year of Churchill’s life.We felt the most effective interactive display was a touch-screen poll that initally asked the guest’s opinion on a certain aspect of Churchill’s life, such as “Do you think Churchill was a good wartime leader?” You were then offered more information on your topic and then reasked the question to see if your opinion changed.

We then thought about the importance of technology in museums and what it has added to the visitor experience. Technology has improved museum exhibitions in many ways: visitors can access historical documents, watch video footage, play “educational games” to learn information, and the museum is able to house much more materials through databases than they could before. It also allows visitors to choose whether they would like to view more information or “do research” or they can decide to move on. In this way, the experience is much more “tailor-made” for the visitor, allowing them to explore their own interests.T

The use of technology comes at a price. First of all, many museums do not even have the funding to afford such displays set up, even though it would benefit them greatly. Many museums, whether they are being rennovated or newly opened, are almost expected to have some sort of technology involved. Also, as we all know too well, the use of technology often comes with glitches and is susceptible to malfunctioning. The 15 metre interactive timeline was a great idea, but we could not really figure out how to use it! For two 20 year-olds who grew up using technology, we can’t even imagine older folks trying to figure out some of these displays.

Overall the technology benefitted our experiences in the Churchill Museum. We noticed most of the visitors engaged with the interactive media and we learned a whole lot more than we expected to. However, museums need to carefully evaluate their reliance on technology-based exhibits. The ideal exhibit would be a balance of both the traditional artifact-based model with some elements of technology to enhance the objects and the concepts presented.

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.