Visiting the Monet and London exhibition

Back at the start of December we popped to London for the day for a pre-Christmas visit, primarily for our annual steak fest at the gorgeous Hawksmoor restaurant in Air Street and to secure some Fortnum and Mason’s mince pies (side note - this time we opted for the crunchy almond topped mince pies, and they weren’t my favourite). I always like to use days in London to do something we can’t do here - that could be an exhibition, a museum, or something else.

This time though I’d seen that the Courtauld Gallery at Somerset House were hosting a Monet and London exhibition, and so I got us tickets. We’d not been to anything in the gallery before, even though we’d been to events and even a restaurant at Somerset House and that along with seeing some paintings seemed good enough reason to go. It seems though it was a really popular exhibition with notices up when we visited to say that tickets sold out until it closed mid January.

We’re by no imagination huge art aficionados, but we do like to take a look and try to imagine the said art in our house, or not!

As most people probably know Claude Monet is renowned as the leading figure of French impressionism, which changed modern art, and I think probably one of his most famous pieces is the Water Lilies - or at least that’s the one I knew of most. I seem to recall we saw, or at least tried to see one of these paintings in Paris once - so long ago, that if there were pictures they were probably printed photos, and also why my memory is hazy!

Views of the Thames

But as the exhibition blurb goes ‘some of Monet’s most remarkable Impressionist paintings were made not in France but in London’ depicting views of the Thames evoking atmosphere, mysterious light and colour. Paintings begun during three stays in the capital between 1899 and 1901 paintings of Charing Cross Bridge, Waterloo Bridge and the House of Parliament were unveiled in Paris in 1904. Until last year they had never been the subject of an UK exhibition, which I guess explains why they were such hot tickets!

There were 21 paintings in the exhibition and lots of people viewing them - some needing to be right in front of you, or even at the exact spot you were in and couldn’t possibly wait for you to move on - sigh! - though generally most people were much more courteous.

The paintings were definitely worth seeing, my favourites were those of the Houses of Parliament:

HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT, SUNSET - 1903 - CLAUDE MONET

LONDON: THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT SHAFT OF SUNLIGHT IN THE FOG - 1904 - CLAUDE MONET

THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT (EFFECT OF FOG) - 1903 - CLAUDE MONET

THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT - 1904 - CLAUDE MONET

The last one above I think is my favourite of these - this was one of the works that he made for the unrealised show in London. He’d been unable to borrow back enough sold paintings from the original series for the exhibition, so set about completing unfinished canvasses left in his studio - which goes to show that having unfinished works in progress is nothing new for crafters and artists today!

He hoped that these newly finished works would be ‘as good as the other ones, if not better’ which is just the inspiration that many of us need to clear through our own stash of half-finished projects, even if we’re nowhere near as talented or prolific as he clearly was.

It was great to see these paintings - and great that his long hoped for exhibition finally took place - we took the chance to see a bit more of the Courtauld Gallery while we were there, so look out for that post soon.

Errands in The City

On Monday I needed to run some errands in The City. It turned out my timing was impeccable as the sun was out and the temperatures milder than they’ve been all year. So it was rude not to make the most of, what is now an all too rare trip into town. I’d already made sure to catch a glimpse of my favourite City view, looking through to St Stephen Walbrook from St Swithin’s Lane.

The City is one of those places that really does look glorious in the sun, and I couldn’t help but stop and look back towards Bank junction as I crossed over and headed for the ‘wibbly wobbly’ or more properly named Jubilee bridge. My plan was to head over to the Tate Modern, somewhere I’d not been for quite a few years, and to look at the exhibition in the large turbine hall and perhaps a look around some of the other spaces.

I’m very much of a dip in and out type of person when it comes to museums, not someone who has to see everything on every visit. My approach works well when you visit regularly - and we haven’t - but I’m hoping it’s something that we’ll get back to doing more often, and so it’s great to be able to do this for free.

Cecilia Vicuña’s Brain Forest Quipu

The exhibition in the large Turbine Hall is made up of sculpture, sound, music and video. Quipu isn’t something I’d heard of before, but it’s an ancient South American recording and communication system made from knotted threads. Here the artist has worked alongside artists, activists and members of the community on this project with some of the items used in the sculptures collected from the banks of the Thames by women from local Latin American communities.

At the centre of Brain Forest Quipu are two sculptures that hang 27 metres from the ceiling. They are woven together using a range of organic materials, including found objects, unspun wool, plant fibres, rope and cardboard to evoke the look of bleached-out trees and ghostly forms.

It is these two sculptures that capture people’s attention. You can walk among the hanging threads but are asked not to touch them. Along with the audio playing in the hall, as you wander amongst them or sit and let your eye explore the full height of the sculptures, they really do become mesmerising and even mindful.

I was also intrigued by the ‘web’ holding each of the strands, which in some ways was acting as a giant rotary washing line. It was only as I went up to the upper walkways and floors that I got a closer look.

If you’ve not been to the Tate Modern it’s hard to get a sense of scale of these pieces, or of the Turbine Hall which is huge. It’s 155m long, 23m wide and 35m tall - the roof light has 524 glass panels.

And somehow that means the 27m sculptures don’t look that big from a distance - see how small the people on the viewing platform look in the photo below.

So a great day: errands completed, feeling the warmth of the sun and some cultural inspiration too.

A wow visit to a reopened Painted Hall

It’s been closed for two years for a major conservation project, and reopened last weeked. I was able to book tickets on the opening weekend through week, and it was truly wonderful. At one point I thought we might not make it down into Greenwich at all as MOH was working (again), but just after 3pm on Sunday he escaped his laptop and we headed on what is a daily walk for me.

It was a lovely day and Greenwich Park was full, which was quite strange to see. I’m so used to seeing it with workers hurrying through and the dog walking community meeting for their daily - or least morning - constitution, that it’s easy to forget the weekend leisure users of the space. And on a sunny day, how that multiplies.

We’ve been to the Painted Hall many times before, in fact we visited with family including a cousin’s American husband the day after our wedding whose reaction was “gee, this is old!” Which of course is correct, it is.

It’s part of the Old Royal Naval College and was designed as a ceremonial dining room by Sir Christopher Wren, and some dining room! It took 19 years to complete the vast decorative scheme, painted by Sir James Thornhill and that started in 1707. He was the first British artist to be knighted and painted himself into the picture, which was pointed out in the new audio accompaniment - so look out for him later.

Previously entry was free, and is now £12 which before we went I thought was hefty. Having visited, I think it’s pretty good value, especially as you can use your ticket to gain entry for a year. That won’t work for everyone but they’re not the only organisation to do that, and it doesn’t stop you visiting, does it.

The entrance is new too, and much more focused. You enter through the Undercroft, now renamed the Sackler Gallery and there’s the obligatory shop and a cafe too. The cafe is particularly welcome as it’s yet another space for food and drink on campus, although despite only going this weekend I’d already forgotten that in the everyday busy-ness of the working day. And this week too, I’ve been less good about taking lunch to work and reverted to popping to the garage for a sandwich rather than trying something a little more social.

LOOKING UP

Looking up in what used to be the entrance area was spectacular, and only partly prepared you for the wow when you first glimpse the main event. It is truly breathtaking.

A photo really can’t do it justice, but it does give you an idea of how spectacular it is.

Before the hall was filled with large wooden tables, which took up most of the space. These have now gone and have been replaced with cushioned benches down the centre of the space, these allow people to view the ceiling lying down, and if you weren’t aware of that, the following photo could be quite amusing!

And it’s a vast improvement of a mirror that was there before.

I’m not usually much of a fan of audio guides, but I took one and it was impressive. You can dip into and out of the information in a way that works for you. It translates the latin inscription around the edge of the ceiling in an engaging way. It’s been many years since I studied Latin - amo, amas, amat, amamus, amatis, amant and all that.

Earlier I promised you Sir James Thornhill, well here he is with the tools of his trade behind him on the ledge - that’s just one of the useful facts on the multimedia guide.

It’s definitely worth a visit, and it’s definitely worth visiting Greenwich for. And if you visit give me a wave!