Spot(s) o' culture

‘Into the Blue’ at the V&A

13 August

Admittedly my tastes may be a bit niche, but this was really interesting. Exhibition of the development of swimming pools over the years. Lots about lidos and recent campaigns to restore them. It featured a photo of the Thames Lido, which coincidentally Ray and I had visited again just the previous day.

It was pretty small-scale, tucked away on an upper floor of the V&A (which I had to ask how to get to – the staircases at the V&A each intriguingly only lead to certain floors, so you’ll find yourself on a staircase leading to floors 1, 2 and 4, with the staircase to floor 3 somehow at the other end of the building). I think this Guardian article alerted me to the exhibition. Pics nicked from the exhibition page.

‘Foragers of the Foreshore’ at Oxo Tower Wharf

29 September

This one was only on for a few days in September. Ruth is intrigued by mudlarking, presumably imagining discovery of gold coins, Roman artefacts etc; I am less intrigued by it, pessimistically imagining discovery of rubbish or the odd human torso. This claimed to be ‘the most expansive exhibition on Mudlarking that has ever taken place’. I wasn’t familiar with Nicola White but Ruth follows her on Twitter.

The exhibition itself was quite interesting but hot and crowded, so our visit was fairly brief in the end. Some interesting stuff has certainly been found over the years, though the exhibition did also reference the pitiable Victorian children who'd scoured the Thames' shores trying to actually find stuff to sell.

It was a relentlessly wet day. Afterwards we huddled outside the branch of Caffe Nero opposite for a hot drink. Think Ruth's expression says it all.

I’d often walked past the Oxo Tower but not visited any of the shops or the gallery space there. We had a quick mooch around the shops on the upper levels, though most of them appeared not to open on Sundays.

The mudlarking exhibition was held in Bargehouse, a large building opposite (presumably a former warehouse; no idea how it’s avoided conversion into luxury apartments) that's also part of the Oxo Tower Wharf development. The whole thing’s apparently owned by Coin Street Community Builders, a social enterprise.

Bargehouse has the names of the nine Muses written along one wall, which had me dredging my classical memory banks to enlighten Ruth as to who they were.

‘Other Spaces’ at 180 The Strand

12 October

Came across the exhibition while Googling exhibitions on in London during October, looking for the token something cultural for Helen and I to do on our meetup that weekend. Never heard of this place before. I might have walked past the building before, but certainly wouldn’t have thought it was an exhibition space – it looks like an office block with boarding around the ground floor. Apparently it’s an ‘iconic Brutalist building’ undergoing a transformation into an arts venue.

To get in, we joined a queue stretching around the corner of the building – I’m not great with queues but we agreed to give it a bit of time and see how fast it moved. In the event it moved reasonably quickly. We were then funneled in quite organized fashion through the three rooms, though there was plenty of time to experience each. Once inside, the exhibition was over three rooms containing three separate installations, ‘Our Time’, ‘Vanishing Point’ and ‘The Great Animal Orchestra’. There's a short clip here of the three installations.

I didn’t have my phone on the right setting for taking pictures in darkness, and didn’t like to fiddle about with it too much once we were inside, so these pictures may or may not give a flavour. Here's a review.

Our Time

Vanishing Point

The Great Animal Orchestra

‘Mary Quant’ at the V&A

19 October

This was great. Mum had mentioned quite a while back fancying going to see it – it’s been on since April – but we took until October to get around to arranging it. Fantastically set out on two levels within the V&A’s fashion gallery.

One of the most fun aspects of the exhibition was that there had evidently been a shout out for women to loan their Quant dresses to the exhibition (#WeWantQuant), with the result that in addition to the dresses themselves being on display there were a number of accompanying photographs of the then-girl in question wearing the dress in her parents’ sitting room or back garden, and a bit of the back story as to how she’d come by it.

I’m too young to be able to imagine the impact that Quant had on fashion options for young women, but Mum said that Quant had without doubt influenced the way she dressed in the Sixties. She said that she’d once modelled for a Quant-style pointed haircut while in college, though disappointingly isn’t sure she’s got any photos of it.

Quant’s King’s Road boutique 'Bazaar' was apparently famed for its eccentric window displays. I assume this exhibition mock-up of a woman in a distinctly eccentric pair of trousers with a lobster on a leash was one such.

There was an incredibly varied selection of outfits on show, including a range of PVC rainwear, and a range of shoes. Also some information about the range of ‘Daisy’ dolls, which I hadn’t known about. One exhibit showed some of the range of ‘Daisy’ accessories that were available.

Funky outfits

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'Daisy' dolls and accessories

After doing the Quant exhibition and lunch, we went up several floors to the ironwork gallery to view the Hereford Screen, installed in Hereford Cathedral in the late nineteenth century and removed from it in 1967 and sold to a museum in Coventry, who couldn’t afford to maintain it so sold it to the V &A. Hard to imagine that it’s likely to return to the cathedral at this stage.

Mum by the Hereford Screen

Neighbourliness; Eastern artefacts; claw-clipping

Quite excited by the news that Google Street View now apparently covers 95% of the country. Located the house; must be quite a recent photo judging by the state of the jasmine on the front wall (as of this winter’s snow, a bit brown and shrivelled-looking). This Telegraph piece fulminates that GSV is 'a service for burglars', although doesn't explain quite how this is the case, given that the images don't show any more than one could see simply by standing in the street in question. (It also sounds like the 'research' in question took the form of a straw poll of a group of people who were given the option of ticking a box beside 'I think Google Street View is a service for burglars'.)

Have resolved to try and improve recollection for faces – have quite a good memory for names but less so for the faces of people I have met only briefly. Wandered innocently out of my back door on Saturday to be greeted by a paunchy man halfway up a ladder looking at next door’s guttering. Turns out he is a neighbour from a few doors down whom I think I have said hello to once, though I know Ray used to exchange manly pleasantries with him occasionally. Asked where “my man” was and seemed almost unwilling to accept the ensuing brief explanation, launching into a detailed physical description of Ray, perhaps imagining that I had a number of men and might be thinking of the wrong chap. I think we parted on reasonable terms. According to our friendly neighbour Judith he has offered to obtain a part for the broken guttering, so I guess that’s helpful.


Ruth and I went up to London on Sunday meaning to have a look round the V&A – slow start due to train delays and the closure of the Circle Line meant that we had to walk from Paddington across Hyde Park to the museum, stopping en route for a quick look at ‘Isis’. As Ruth claimed that the apparently insubstantial pastries we had eaten first thing were insufficient to carry her through a session of museuming, we nipped into an Italian restaurant on Brompton Road that was advertising itself as doing breakfasts. Turned out to be a bit of a little gem – charmingly kitschy with a lion’s-head fountain in the entrance and multiple curtains downstairs, but had an excellent brunch of bresaola and poached eggs with strong black coffee.

Had a pleasant amble around the museum including the new Jameel Gallery to indulge Ruth's interest in the Middle East, and I always like a quick butchers at the Buddhas (and Bodhisattvas, and Hindu doo-das). After a few hours in the museum, we ended the day with a drink in The Prince of Wales on Kensington Church Street and a foray into the Whole Foods Market on the ground floor of the Barkers building, where we bought a large piece of rib-eye steak, some bakery goods and some ginger sweetmeats for Ruth’s mother.

Still think the demise (and, indeed, demolition) of Kensington Market is a shame – I still have a boxy black jacket that I purchased there on one of several visits when much younger. Don’t wear it often these days as the shoulder pads make it look not-quite-up-to-the-minute, but I’m waiting for them to come back in. The market closed in 2000 (lamented here) after 30 years of trading.

My father reminded me on the phone on Sunday evening that he used to lunch in the V&A restaurant at a discount when he worked for the Geological Survey in the 1960s and 70s. Nice.

On Tuesday evening this week Ruth decided that it was high time the rabbits’ claws were clipped - rabbits' claws grow continually and domestic rabbits’ claws don’t get worn down enough on their own. The exercise went off semi-successfully, as the claws were indeed clipped, although by the end of the exercise Ruth was covered in a thick layer of bunny fur and bleeding in three places. Surprisingly, Harley was more difficult to manage, turning into a little fidgety ball and lashing out with his feet (hence the wounds). Big Lola proved a bit easier, strangely, and even remained on Ruth’s lap afterwards and allowed herself to be groomed, though they did seem to be having a bit of a face-off at one point (see right). There's an amusing article here on clipping bunny claws which we may take some tips from next time.

Spent a pleasant evening last night swaying and jigging along with Björn Again at The Hexagon, along with a packed house of people ranging in age from about 7 to 77. The act included all the obvious songs plus a couple I wasn't expecting. I was surprised at the inclusion of When All Is Said And Done, an album track from Abba's best album The Visitors, but a quick bit of desk research today reveals that it was used on the Mamma Mia! soundtrack (have not yet seen MM). I could have done without the brief segue into Bon Jovi in the second half, although a gaggle of women behind me, who all seemed to fancy the long-haired bass player, evidently enjoyed it.