Showing posts with label St Paul's Cathedral. Show all posts
Showing posts with label St Paul's Cathedral. Show all posts

Monday, May 7, 2012

Strolling Through Southwark...


As I mentioned yesterday, I really plan to make the most out of my remaining time here—apparently, I was determined to prove that point by going all out today! And what an amazing time I had!

I kicked off today by meeting my friend BC for coffee at LJ’s. She and I first met during my trip to Morocco and, like me, she’s an American studying abroad (in Ireland). We spent about 2 hours, just catching up and chatting about the similarities of our experience over caffeinated beverages and ginger bread.

Eventually it was time to part ways and so, after bidding one another adieu, I set off on the rest of my adventure. I’ve been meaning to spend some time in the Southwark area since arriving, but time and energy have simply not been on my side. Determined to rectify this situation, I started walking in that direction from Soho. En route, I made a brief stop at Forbidden Planet, a comic shop I had spotted earlier but hadn’t had time to check out.

Oh. My. Stan. Lee!

In the first few minutes of being there, I had multiple nerdgasms! They had absolutely everything this geek could want: there was a diorama of Yoda’s hut (inside and out, and perfectly sized for the Star Wars toys); statues of various action heroes and villains; a wall of everything Doctor Who related; plush comic book characters and action figures; loads of Star Trek stuff; and, of course, actual comics, books, and related films. 

Being on a tight budget, I restricted myself to two items. One of these was the first book from the Game of Thrones series—I’ve caught up on the television adaptation, and cannot wait to find out what happens, so I’m going to read ahead. The second item I bought was a two-disk She-Ra, Princess of Power DVD set. It’s basically the same ‘Secret of the Sword / Best of…’ set that we got in the states, but what caught my attention was the cover artwork: the Sorceress of Castle Grayskull was on there. Based on that alone (well, that and the £4 pricetag), I knew I had to have it! Imagine my further delighted surprise then, when I opened the pack and found that the disk images were the Sorceress and Shadow Weaver—my two favorite POP characters! #YAY!




Eventually I pulled myself away from Forbidden Planet, and resumed my journey to Southwark. 

Ultimately, I decided to go by the Tate Modern finally. Now, I should preface all of this by saying that I’m not the world’s biggest modern art fan. In fact, I’m not even the world’s biggest tepid modern art fan. Bottom line: I’m not a fan. But, I knew that I had to give it a shot, as the Tate Modern is one of the most famous art museums in existence. 

Gettin' my modern on...

I confess to enjoying it more than I expected to. The Powers that Be do a really good job of curetting the exhibits—for the most part, it’s really accessible, and ‘they’ provide the necessary historical and artistic insights that make these works of arts understandable to a wider audience. In doing so, they challenge the typical, alienating sense of religiosity and awe contained in most museum settings. I'm a huge fan of this demystification process!

The only downside is that this encourages people to bring their children. Not only is this inconvenient due to their sticky fingers and high-pitched squeals but, also, there’s nothing quite as awkward as realizing that a three year old is staring at you as you admire Paul Delvaux’s ‘Sleeping Venus’ in all her naked glory—‘cause you just know that little brat thinks you’re looking at Venus’ prominently displayed no-no parts when, in fact, you’re attention is drawn to the chick with the fierce red hair who looks like she just stepped out of a Tim Burton film about drag queens. 

But I digress…

There were a couple of pieces I enjoyed, the aforementioned being one of them. Another was Do Ho Suh’s Staircase-III. I was amazed at how detailed it was—including ‘simple’ details like light switches made out of fabric—and how this piece made me feel like I was in some weird dreamlike state. In hindsight, I really regret not getting a photo of it. (A second trip might be required at some point solely for that reason.)

Another work I want to mention, which I enjoyed seeing mostly for the spectacle, was the notorious Damian Hirst’s ‘For the Love of God’ (a.k.a. the crystal skull piece). For those who aren’t familiar, 

For the Love of God is a life-size platinum cast of an eighteenth century human skull, covered by 8,601 flawless diamonds, inset with the original skull’s teeth. At the front of the cranium is a 52.4 carat pink diamond. Since it was first exhibited in 2007, For the Love of God has become one of the most widely recognised works of contemporary art. It represents the artist’s continued interest in mortality and notions of value. Alluding to the iconography of the skull in art as a memento mori—a reminder of the fragility of life—the work can be viewed alternatively as a glorious, devotional, defiant or provocative gesture in the face of death itself. (Tate Modern website)

'For the Love of God' [NB: This image is not mine!]
 
 Now, I’m not here to get into a whole debate about Hirst and his art—I don’t know enough about the man or the topic to do so. That being said, I confess to liking this piece. And it’s for the same reason I like some of his other work that I’ve seen photos of, and even the earlier-mentioned ‘Sleeping Venus’: 

I like my modern art grim. 

You see, I realized today that I’m much more willing to give modern art a chance if it’s filled with dark colors and abject(ified), Gothic imagery. If it’s all simple geometric shapes with no purpose, pained in neon oranges and pinks and yellows, then I want nothing to do with it. Give me depictions that tell a story—about death, or about how shit this life can be sometimes—with dark blacks, and blues, and purples. That, I can appreciate.

But I’ve gone on enough about art. I did a lot more today than just that!

After leaving the Tate, I continued eastward along the Thames, passing the (rebuilt) Globe Theatre along the way. Eventually, I reached the Clink Prison Museum. Nic and I caught a glimpse of this place when we were here back in 2008, but we weren’t able to go in for one reason or another (I think we had tickets to do something that night). I knew that I just had to go there this time.

The Clink is a subterranean prison that was in operation from c.12th Century until 1780. The origins of its name have been lost to time, but it has been speculated that the sound comes from sounds of chains being affixed to prisoners—furthermore, it is from this notorious gaol (jail) that the slang term ‘the clink’ came to symbolize modern jails.

Undoubtedly arrested for public drunkenness...

It’s reputed to be haunted, though I didn’t see any ghosts. Honestly, I was kind of underwhelmed. However, it was pretty interactive—I was able to handle actual (reproductions) of torture devices that were used—and I did learn some new things, too. 

For instance, another common prison-related term used today—‘the hole’—can be linked back to the Clink. Except, rather than being solitary confinement (as we might understand it today), this was literally a hole that prisoners were shoved into and forgotten about. 

At high tide, the polluted water from the Thames would fill the hole almost completely, but not enough to drown (most of) the prisoners—instead, they succumbed to either hunger or various diseases they contracted from the water (e.g., Dysentery). It was also not uncommon for prisoners in the hole to become so waterlogged that their skin would literally begin to rot while they were still living. Terrifying!

The Hole! (You can't see it here, but the pit is filled with water.)


After touring the Clink, I climbed back up to the street level and started toward my next destination. I wrapped around the Golden Hinde, crossed London Bridge (which thankfully did not fall), passed the Monument to the Great London Fire of 1666, and finally arrived at St Paul’s Cathedral.

I arrived in time for the Evensong Service, which meant that I didn’t have to pay to get in (the main reason I hadn’t visited prior). I was able to go in and look around a bit, but there wasn’t really anything interesting that caught my attention. 

Don’t get me wrong: it’s absolutely gorgeous inside, and reminded me of so many pictures of the Vatican that I’ve seen over the years. Everything was a crisp white, glistening gold, or polished onyx—a far cry from the stony interior of Westminster Abbey, for instance. Nonetheless, I just didn’t have a desire to stay, and so I sneaked out before the service started.

St Paul's Interior

 From there I made my way through Trafalgar Square—passing the Royal Courts of Justice en route—and down to the Horse Guards Parade and Whitehall / 10 Downing Street. 

Regarding the former, today this is where the annual Trooping the Colour ceremony—which officially marks the Sovereign’s birthday—takes place, but in the past it was used for other events as well (e.g., jousts held for King Henry VIII). 

The latter site is the home of Britain’s Prime Minister. Sadly, you cannot see his exact residence from the road—the gate at the edge of the street is as close as you can get.

And, finally, I concluded my day by taking a brief stroll through St James’s Park, where I once again snapped lots of bird photos. But I also did this for another reason: for myriad reasons, I’ve found myself in St James’s Park about once a month throughout my stay. The photos I’ve taken there somewhat show the changing of the seasons, and will serve as a nice, overarching reminder of my time here.

St James's Park with Buckingham Palace

Okay, it’s late and I’m exhausted—and no wonder: GoogleMaps tells me I walked over 8 miles today—time to wrap this up! 

Today's Trip

Until next time…

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

My (Almost) Brush wtih The Queen

I got up fairly early this morning in order to make it down to St Paul’s Cathedral, in hopes of catching sight of Her Majesty, The Queen. Unfortunately, I woke up to rain, ominous skies, and howling wind. But, I told myself, such might make it easier for me to catch sight of Elizabeth—so, off I went!

I came by way of the Mansion House tube stop, meaning that I wound up circling around the back and northern sides of the cathedral in order to make my way to the front. En route, I passed quite a long queue of men and women—the invited guests—waiting to enter the cathedral. Most of them were older, and most of the men were dressed in tails and top hats whilst the women wore quite pretty dresses and prim hats. And, since this was a Service of the Order of the British Empire, almost all of them were wearing their medals (which were a lot smaller in person than I expected).  


NB: This is not my image!

 Having planned accordingly, I arrived about an hour before Queen Elizabeth II was scheduled to appear. This meant that I had a wonderful vantage point! In fact, there were only a small handful of people waiting at that point, meaning that I was able to stake-out a position right against the guardrail. 

People entering the cathedral--apparently, my invitation was lot in the mail.

It was raining the whole time!


I waited, as the crowd gradually grew bigger (and more excited)… 

And then the people dressed a bit more…showy started to appear. 

First there was the group of older men in red coats (who were brought in, I swear, in a massive gray ambulance—I kid you not!).  



Then there were the Royal Household Calvary’s trumpeters, who marched out and took position along St Paul’s steps in order to proclaim The Queen’s arrival... 


Royal Household Calvary Trumpeters...Take One!


 And then there were three carloads of men and women in even fancier frocks that I couldn’t see well enough to figure out who they were. They pulled up to the front, and rushed inside owing to the rain.
  

Mystery Special Guests


More waiting followed...

We were getting close now… 

And then… 

Confusion… 

Some official from St Paul’s rushed out and whispered something to the lead trumpeter, who quickly reorganized his men so that they now faced south (with their backs to us). This wasn’t looking good for my prospects of a Royal Sighting. 


Royal Household Calvary Trumpeters...Take Two!

A few police cars whizzed by at that point, cordoning off St Paul’s Church Yard (the street that runs alongside the church)… 

And then… 

The Royal Limo rolled by slowly! 

This was it! I was seeing the limo—and not in the Royal Mews this time!—meaning that I was about to see The Queen. 

What a momentous moment this was going to be… 

The trumpeters started their proclamation, accompanied by the bells of the cathedral… 

But the limo didn’t stop. 

Instead, it pulled up alongside the (wrong, from my vantage point) side of the church. Apparently, there was some concern about making the 85 year-old Sovereign climb the rain-slicked steps into the cathedral. 

I mean, I guess I can’t blame ’em…but, damn. Nonetheless, I did manage to snag this image—I think that’s her hot-pink coat that you see there. At least that’s what I’m telling myself. 


Was that a flash of the Royal Hot Pink Coat?

Oh well, there’s always next week… 

[UPDATE: Just came across these pictures from today's ceremony--looks like I was correct about the hot pink! What beautiful robes...]