Just photos in this post…. Above is the Monument to the Great Fire, a doric column designed by Christopher Wren and Robert Hooke. The stonework on the monument that said that Catholics were to blame for the fire was removed in the early 1800s, since it was never true in the first place….
The photos are from my friend’s Des’s walk around the centre of London, pointing out some of the legacies of the Great Fire of London in September 1666.
This is the UK outpost of Mikkeller, a Danish brewer who have become all rather on-trend. They’re located in what was the George & Dragon pub (although it was turned into a shop before Mikkeller took it over) which was rather smaller than I had expected.
The selection of beers, beautifully well balanced to ensure something for most tastes. They’re not the cheapest pub going, but the quality of the beers is high and there are some interesting options. The service was friendly, engaging and welcoming, with the staff members being knowledgeable about the beers.
Part of the pub’s interior, it was otherwise busy and I was trying to avoid getting too many people in a photo that they might not have wanted to be in. I mentioned that my phone was low on charge (I’ve managed to forget to bring my battery pack with me this week) and I was hopefully shown a table which had a power socket by it, so that was a relief as I’d find it a little hard to cope without my phone….. (perhaps I need to get out more). The decor is just a little bit harsh and utilitarian, probably not conducive to people staying for a long time.
My two beer choices were the Dry Stout Centennial Mosaic from the Kernel Brewery and the Hallo Ich Bin Berliner Weisse Raspberry from Mikkeller. No prizes for anyone who guesses correctly which one the above photo is of. The stout is made by a small local brewery in London and had a smokiness and bitterness to it. The raspberry sour was piquant and flavoursome (that sounds pretentious I think, but there we go), both beers being very drinkable.
Anyway, all very lovely, although the bar was full soon after they opened, so I’m wondering whether they might be tempted to return to their more normal hours rather than the slightly more limited ones they’re operating with at the moment. The pub also has pizzas which are supplied from Yard Sale Pizza, a third party company, which did sound tempting and it’s a clever way of providing a food offering.
These two Saints (NG4491 and NG4492) are in the collections of the National Gallery, donated in 1930 in honour of Charles D Cumming. The two separate pieces are part of a larger altarpiece which has since been broken up, with other sections in the Palazzo Barberini in Rome and also in private collections. They date from around 1350 and it isn’t known where the altarpiece was from, or when it was broken up.
The Mary Magdalene image is notable for, and I’ve taken this from the National Gallery web-site (I hardly knew this):
“The artist has taken great care to paint the ointment jar so that it resembles white marble with pink and blue veins. Its surface has a soft luminosity, an effect achieved by painting a thin layer of white paint over a base of layer of bright colours. This technique is known as scumbling.”
I’m not sure what look for Mary that the artist was intending, although it appears more grumpy than pensive. Anyway, that’s my contribution to the commentary on these artworks…
They think that there was a main panel with the Virgin Mary in the centre, with the two pieces in the gallery’s collections having once been positioned to the right of that. The arched panels at the top are more recent, as they were at some stage turned into rectangular artworks, so they could be displayed on a wall.
Although it’s not ideal from an artistic perspective, I quite like that the individual items that once formed part of a larger artwork are dotted around the world. It makes it more of a treasure hunt to locate them.
This artwork (reference NG1113) is in the National Gallery in London and they’ve had it in their collections since 1882, when it was presented to them by Charles Fairfax Murray. The full title of the painting is “Saint Sabinus before the Roman Governor of Tuscany” and the gallery thinks that it was painted between 1335 and 1342. Murray was an artist who spent some time living and working in Siena, in Italy, and it’s thought very likely that this might have been designed originally as part of an altarpiece for the city’s cathedral.
The gallery’s web-site, which is gloriously detailed, has no end of information about this painting, but I like that there was once one central panel and four altarpieces, of which this is one. The central panel is today at the Cathedral Museum in Siena, two of the panels are at the Uffizi (so, I may or may not have seen them earlier this year) and the other is lost.
The Roman Governor in the image is Venustianus and he’s sitting down on the seat with the strange-looking lions, demanding that Sabinus sacrifice one of his companions. Sabinus offered a statue, which seemingly wasn’t sufficient as Venustianus ordered his hands to be cut off. Now more commonly referred to as Saint Sabinus of Spoleto, he was later executed by Lucius, the Roman elected official. So, not exactly ideal.
Pietro Lorenzetti (?1280-1348) is apparently (I’m reading this bit on an art site, I don’t know as I’m not an art historian) an influential forerunner of the Italian Renaissance movement and he was well-known in Siena. Given that he was painting 700 years ago, a surprising number of his works are still in museums and galleries around the world today.
I wasn’t enormously thrilled about how the British Museum handled their visitor flow yesterday, with people clustered together. However, the National Gallery, to quote a phrase of someone I know, surprised and delighted me with their arrangements.
Visitors go to the Sainsbury Wing Entrance and the time of the ticket is clear, turn up no more than fifteen minutes before. There was a staff member guiding visitors and he was helpful, giving clear instructions to everyone and there was plenty of space for people to wait. I liked this, he was chatty and welcomed visitors with a smile and those without tickets were dealt with politely.
The member of security staff was humorous, engaged and keen to welcome visitors. I admit that mine was the first bag of the day that he had to check, but nonetheless, he smiled and made conversation. And, the staff at the gallery were all engaging and they looked like they wanted to be there. Two staff were talking to each other about a painting, a moment which it occurred to me that I’ve never seen before. The staff were pro-active and welcoming visitors, giving the impression that their role was that of aiding the visit of someone new to the gallery (or someone experienced wanting help), rather than just being there for security.
The gallery has information about every one of its artworks on-line, and this is useful and accessible. It added an extra dimension to the artworks, although that had the disadvantage that I stayed for three hours and still didn’t even get half-way round. I’ve booked another ticket on-line for in two weeks, but this experience reminded me that the National Gallery is, along with the Met in New York, perhaps the best gallery in the world.
Impeccable and a perfect example of how to handle visitors during these uncertain times. And below, some photos of the galleries…
I have no in-depth knowledge of these, but there’s plenty of information at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metopes_of_the_Parthenon about these metopes. They were carved in around 446BC and have had quite the adventure over the centuries.
But, the bizarre situation now, and without getting political, is that the main sections of some of them are in the British Museum and the heads of these figures are still in Athens (and some are dotted around other parts of Europe).
This is South Metope VI (SM7) and the catalogue description for this reads as follows, split into three different sections.
Parthenon SM.7 (Acropolis)
Title: Parthenon, South Metope 7
Collection: Athens, Acropolis Museum
Subject: Centaur head
Parthenon SM.7 (Paris)
Title: Parthenon, South Metope 7
Collection: Paris, Musee du Louvre
Subject: Head of Lapith
Subject Description:
The head of a young Lapith belongs to metope S7, now in the British Museum. He has short hair, large eyes rimmed with thick lids, a mouth with a full lower lip and no beard. The head is represented in an almost frontal view, though the left side is not completely finished.
Condition Description:
Head in relief, broken across back. Nose in broken and worn. Heavily weathered
Parthenon SM.7 (London)
Title: Parthenon, South Metope 7
Collection: London, British Museum
Subject: Lapith and Centaur
Subject Description:
Centauromachy: Lapith (left) charges against Centaur with left arm forward, mantle clasped at right shoulder. Centaur (right) rears up, his left foreleg against stomach and groin of Lapith, his cloak flying out to right.
Form and Style:
Note veins in left arm of Lapith — a Severe Style trait.
Condition Description:
Missing: upper right corner of slab, most of right leg, left foot, right hand, and lower mantle of Lapith, left rear foreleg and left arm of Centaur. Heads in Athens and Paris (Louvre Ma 737). Surface abraded.
So, anyone who wants to see study this metope will have to pop along to the Louvre, the British Museum and the Acropolis Museum. It’s not ideal….
The British Museum has taken a little longer to open that some other historic attractions in London, but I was able to pre-book a ticket to visit today. The facade of the building is under repair and is expected to open next year, the first restoration of this since it was damaged during the Second World War.
There’s some muddled logic about the entire opening and I’m surprised that the British Museum were struggling with this, although perhaps the professionalism of some other museums has made it look too easy in what are different circumstances. The British Museum limit entrance to the complex ten minutes before the time on the ticket, which isn’t clearly signed anywhere. It’s not illogical, it just means that people then hang around outside the entrance to the museum in a beautiful small crowd. Which isn’t ideal.
As for bags, they’re letting in some enormous backpacks, something which I was slightly surprised about. I suspect they’d be better limiting this to some degree, although the security process was quick to go through.
The inside of the British Museum’s Great Court, where there was plenty of space for visitors to walk around. The cafes and shops are also open, although the seating capacity of the former is quite limited.
And the beautiful old reading room, now unused for its original purpose as the British Library has its own premises at St. Pancras.
As for the interior, the museum had made what I considered to be a bizarre decision to funnel everyone together when they entered. So, they ended up with relatively crowded areas, which isn’t really an ideal situation given what is going on at the moment. I suspect that the staff are meant to restrict entrance, but there’s a limited amount they can do. The photo above isn’t of the busiest areas, but I didn’t entirely like their one-way system. None of the other museums I’ve visited over the last few weeks has tried to operate with a one-way system, sometimes it’s best to get people away from each other. If visitors see a nice quiet area, then they can go and visit that, rather than have to stand around together in an area where they might not feel entirely safe.
These photos were taken in order and what ended up happening was that there was a clump of people at the start of the one-way process and then nearly no-one hanging around as they reached the end to their visit and perhaps rushed through. The one-way system is in places difficult to follow, a chunk of people walk against it and that’s not through any fault of theirs, as in some places I found it illogical.
Anyway, it was nice to see the British Museum open again, I usually visit every few months and look around a certain section each time. There’s lots closed off at the moment, but there’s still a reasonable amount to see. Definitely some thought needs to be put into the flow of visitors though and letting them self-regulate to a degree so they can feel safer and less crowded.
There was a grand plan to get office workers back into London today, with the Evening Standard having a full-page editorial saying that some sort of normality is now required.
This was the 17:00 underground service from Canary Wharf…..
Nothing is known of this lady, other than she’s pregnant and wealthy, that’s about the limit to what can be worked out. This is a shame, here she is presented in one of the world’s finest art galleries and no-one knows who she is. They’re not even entirely sure who painted the artwork, but it’s probably Marcus Gheeraerts II (1561-1636), who worked at the court of Queen Elizabeth I.
The artwork was painted in around 1595 and the gallery has done a huge amount of work on it, including analysing most of the paintwork and putting it through an x-ray machine. For a while, the artist was thought to be William Segar and it was only after cleaning of the painting that it was re-attributed. Most of this work was done just after 2001, which is when the painting came to the Tate in lieu of tax. There’s a bit of a gap in the provenance of the painting, although the gallery knows that it was owned by Walter Waring in the eighteenth-century, namely because he wrote this on the back of the artwork. Handy.
But, to whoever the lady in the painting is, her image is now seen by hundreds of people every day, so I’m guessing that she’d probably be quite pleased.
Lady Elizabeth Grey, the Countess of Kent (1582–1651), looks a formidable character in this painting by Paul Van Somer (1578-1621). She was married to Henry Grey, the 8th Earl of Kent, a land-owner and MP, but they didn’t have children to pass their wealth onto. Grey’s interesting, er, display in her painting wasn’t unusual for a mature woman of the time, but only one from the middle or upper classes would get away with that.
The artwork was painted in around 1619, but what is perhaps the most notable about this is that it became part of the art collection of King Charles I. It was later acquired by Friends of the Tate Gallery in 1961, although there’s no other provenance listed on the gallery’s web-site, so goodness knows where it has been for the last few centuries…..
