A wander around Borough Market and Borough Yards

The skies are [finally] blue here in London and it's hot hot HOT. Hurrah!

People often say that the sun has come out but they forget that it's always up there burning ferociously, but usually covered by clouds. When it's as hot as this, it gets me thinking about the power of those clouds, wondering if there is a tog rating for cloud blankets as per duvets.

Anyway, enough about the weather. I went to Tate Modern on Monday afternoon and afterwards, as I wandered the backstreets heading towards London Bridge, I snapped a few pics, inc these two:

Whist I despise the Tate's modern extension to Gilbert Scott's elegant Bankside power station, I do rather like the graphic patchwork patterns that can be achieved by zooming in on it. Nearby there's a lovely glimpse of St Paul's through the trees. 

I crossed over Southwark Street and, as I went under the railway lines and looked left/east, I noticed that the patterns from the metalwork above were making shadows that echoed the Shard in the distance. The Shard dominates the area as shown by my second pic here where it looms over the beautiful old façade of a hop dealer's premises in Borough High Street...

My intention had been to head to London Bridge and catch a bus home to Holloway but as it was such a nice day with not so many people about I let myself go wandering. I headed into Borough Market which was mostly clear after a busy trading morning, meaning signage and imagery is easier to see.

And then an amble around the streets that surround the market. I've long been fascinated by this building that faces Southwark Cathedral and when I get a moment I will find out who/what BMT stands for, seen within its 1897 marker.

Adjacent to this building there are a couple of old bollards from the 1820s and some corner protectors of interest:

I walked to the riverside and noticed that the modern crane being used to redevelop a nearby building that is covered in scaffolding and white protective material echoed the masts on the replica of The Golden Hind. Again, nice patterns and colours:

I then stood and admired the view of the City of London across the River Thames – OK, let's be honest, I went in the pub and had a beer on the terrace and admired the view from there(!): 

This pic shows how many London landmarks are visible from this spot – a double decker red London bus on London Bridge is going past Adelaide House (the first reinforced concrete office block; an Art Deco era marvel that is currently undergoing internal renovation), then there's The Walkie Talkie, The Gherkin, 22 Bishopsgate, lots of other tall buildings that have names I can't remember right now, and a glimpse of Tower 42... all here surrounding what would have been one of the biggest buildings it its day, the Grade II* listed Fishmongers Hall, built 90 years before Adelaide House in the early 1830s.

By this time it was almost 6pm and the shadows cast by the sun were marvellous. I took few pics near The Clink Museum:

Plus a couple of myself near the newly developed Borough Yards, a clever repurposing of the arches beneath the railway lines:

There are some interesting things here. I specifically like the neon boards that resembles the signs that used to be outside cinemas, but here illustration the diverse range of trades and professions here throughout the many decades, and someone has highlighted that the bottom of the metal brackets look like faces:

Deckchairs are currently arranged in front of a large screen where the Olympics is being shown. Men's gymnastics is amazing. Here I bumped into some people I had chatted to at Tate Modern. How delightful. We chatted for quite a while and swapped contact details. 

I finally headed home. Walking towards London Bridge via Winchester Walk there was another lovely view, this time of the cathedral bathed in late afternoon sunshine (about 7.20pm).

What a lovely afternoon. 

Cornelia Parker at Tate Britain, 2022

Yesterday I went to my favourite London art gallery, Tate Britain, to see the marvellous works by the wonderfully talented Cornelia Parker. This inspirational woman not only shares my surname but also seems to have similar internal questioning dialogue about the things around us and the patterns she sees on the streets around us. 

A few friends had been to the show already and I did my best to avoid their many photos on social media as I always prefer to see an exhibition/film/performance 'cold' with no preconceptions and that way I get a true reaction on seeing something for the first time, having not been discoloured or enticed by often misleading enthusiasm or criticism.

I said I wouldn't take photos myself, but I just couldn't help myself when I was there. These little 'Parker does Parker' shots are shown as snapped in square format and you might have already seen some of them on my janeslondon Instagram feed. I hope they intrigue and entice you. 

 Every room was full of clever ideas. And there were many other things I admired there, and the thoughts and ideas behind them too, each explained in print beside the work written by Cornelia herself, which is really refreshing as we usually have to read generalisms and suppostions composed by gallery curators using marketing-speak. I particularly liked reading how she had spoken to and gained access to various institutions or tradesmen in order to obtain quite unusual products with which to make her artworks. The works about what's not there, remains and negative spaces are particularly clever, I think.

I spent quite a while looking at her set of photos of the wall in Caledonian Rd that is the boundary to Pentonville prison. I have taken many similar photos myeself and call them 'accidental abstracts' created where walls have been patched and partly repainted. Here we see Cornelia doing the same. It's amazing I haven't bumped into her in that area of North London over the years. The render has been recently chipped off the wall, and looks to be in a state of flux. See here. It had previously reminded me of, and gave me a taste for, a pint of Gunnness, where the white met the black in a fuzzy line as here.

Oh and there's embroidery, wirework, movies, installations, and so much more. A marvellous body of work. I will probably go back for a second visit as it is on until 16th October. More info here.  

The Changing Face of London – coming soon in 2000

One of the things I have been busying myself with during this period of lock-down and enforced islolation is a concerted effort to sort out, tidy up and/or get rid of a lot of the stuff I have managed to amass over the years.
So far I have rediscovered old diaries from my schooldays (hilarious reading!), alphabeticalised my music CDs, sorted my books into themes, watched a lot of the old films I'd recorded off the TV and forced myself to dismantle, crush and recycle lots of old cardboard boxes that up until now I just couldn't part with because "ooh, such a nice well-made box, that'll be useful one day". These I had saved like huge cuboid faceless Russian dolls.
During this declutter I found a large envelope full of cuttings from magazines and newspapers that hadn't as yet made it into my 'things that interest me' display books. I haven't updated that project for over a decade. I am very good at starting one thing and then getting distracted by another. Hence the many half-finished jumpers, jewellery, needlepoint, paintings and ideas for clay pipe fragments.
Oops – I've gone off on a tangent again...!
So, to the point...
I found this column torn from Time Out magazine, Feb 1994 – a list of the building projects expected in central London by 2000:

Rumours of a Museum of Modern Art somewhere on the Southbank

Interesting huh?!

When this virus is under control and we are given the 'all clear' it will also apply to the inside of my home. I can't be the only one having a major Spring clean – the charity shops will be inundated when they re-open and crying out for extra volunteers. Meanwhile, I am free-cycling – my neighbours have been snapping up the books and unwanted items that I have been leaving on the garden wall.
Stay safe and healthy.

Susan Hiller at Tate Modern and Postman's Park

In a ground floor Tank gallery at Tate Modern I noticed a montage of photographed wall tiles. Recognising them I stopped to read the info board:

"... Victorian memorial plaques she came across in a London park"
Eh?
No recognition has been made as to where the original marvellous handmade tiles can actually be found.
Susan's photographs are arranged in nothing like the same configuration that they are in their actual location and the quality of the prints looks to be a bit dark and over-inked. It amused me to see that people visiting the gallery are taking photos of these photos. Go figure. 
For those of you who don't know, these Doulton tablets form part of Watts memorial within Postman's Park, a stone's throw from St Paul's.
I took some photos of them a while back when I'd gone to enjoy the peace and quiet in this lovely little garden space and have put six of them together here – does this make me an artist?

A View of St Pauls from Bankside – 1917 and 2017

Earlier this year I bought a marvellous trial proof of an etching by Leslie Moffat Ward, entitled "Before St Paul's". It shows the a 1917 view of St Paul's from Bankside.
That means it's one hundred years old.

Intrigued by this major milestone I took some photos in an effort to compare Leslie's view with what we have today; first from the riverside and then from the terrace at that arty place.
On that day I had been to see the Giacometti exhibition which I was sad to discover was ultimately disappointing – so much repetition. It appears the poor man got stuck in a rut.
As for the converted power station, I have written about it in the past – it has now been open for 17 years and still there is no signage to direct the visitor to where the bloody art is and still it feels foreboding like an institution or cold-hearted work environment. It's a vast shed of a place with no humanity. And when you buy your tickets that's all you get; a ticket. No verbal directions, no leaflet – just a diagram on the wall that looks like something from the Crystal Maze.
I really don't like that art has to be commissioned to fill the central space. I am told that the "ooh look at me; I'm so arty and deconstructed" extension at the rear offers great views (yawn) but in my view they wouldn't have needed to spend all that dosh on a damn extension had they made proper use of the gaping hole in the building that's already there.
Grr.
Breathe.
Back to Leslie Moffat Ward – that's art that is. Back to the comparison images – look at how busy the foreshore was back then compared to today's view – gone are the boats, the workmen and almost all of the old riverside buildings. I find this such a shame. I would love to be able to time travel for a while to see and experience for myself what it was like back then.
It's been commented how similar in style Leslie's work is to his contemporaries, namely William Lionel Wyllie, Noel Woodward Spencer and William Walcot.
Many other lovely etchings, sketches and paintings can be found at Atelier – the gallery specialises in artworks that feature London, as well as Paris, New York and Venice and the Channel Islands (the gallery is in Jersey). On the same day I purchased the LMW proof I also snapped up a wonderfully evocative Longstaff etching of Trafalgar Square.
I am really tempted by a few others... see you at the next art fair...

Bankside _ a Southwark Patchwork

A few months ago I was walking to London Bridge from Lower Marsh via Southwark Street.

Just south of Tate Modern, at the junction of Hopton Street I stopped to stare across at the old alms houses which are surrounded on three sides by huge glass monsters*.
I stood and surveyed the view for quite a while and, without moving from that spot, I took a series of photographs to illustrate all the different types of buildings.
Metal, glass, UPVC, more glass, cladding, some Meccano clips and a bit of brick.
This montage of selected images makes the area look really interesting, but in reality the it resembles some kind of architectural testing ground and I don't like it one bit.

  *I am building up quite a collection of these saved, yet smothered gems, so watch this space.

No Souls For Sale at Tate Modern

On Sunday May 16th I went to the No Souls For Sale event thingy at Tate Modern. They'd sectioned the floor of the Turbine Hall off into 70 spaces that were filled by a different gallery or organisation.

It was a mixed bag. There was a lot of stuff I couldn't be bothered to suss out, but there was also some interesting and thought provoking exhibits.

Most of the things that moved me came from abroad, from countries such as Italy or Vietnam... and now, looking at the NSFS site link (top line above) I am confused as to which site was for which gallery and I am kicking myself that I didn't make a better note of things as a lot of the posters in the link don't seem to tie up with the things I saw. Which is a shame. In fact some of the posters are better than the the exhibits I saw, and vice versa.

I really liked a stand in the middle that, on the outside, was made from old walnut furniture. And I loved the Buddah craved into a basbeall bat and the art books with contoured holes drilled into them. The square of white ribbons hanging from the ceiling was lovely, though I have no idea what it was meant to be about. In another area, children were having a great time throwing piles of little bits of paper with 'Local Artist' written on them up into the air. The big brown inflated globe that looked like a big Malteser was also strangely compelling.

Anyway... I took some photos.

10 years of the Tate Modern – a really good bookshop

The Tate Modern is now 10 years old. According to this great article in The Times recently, it’s the most popular art venue in the world and one of the top three attractions (!) in the country (whatever that might mean), though it doesn’t mention what its rivals are.
I’ve never been a fan of the building myself. I have always felt that it’s an opportunity wasted. Pre 2000, when I heard the building was being converted for use as a gallery I was quite excited at the prospect, but when I went there I was so disappointed. And ten years on I still hold that view.
It’s the conversion of building itself that I have got the problem with, not the contents. Logic says that the main access to the building, and then to the art, should be through the door facing the river, especially if you have just walked across the Millennium Bridge. But no; if you use that door you will end up confused for a while wondering which way to go, trying to find a sign or a map to direct you to the art. On looking down into turbine hall you realise you may have to go down to go up. Hmmm. Once down there you'll realise the bulk of the art is on the floors above, so you then have to take a ride on a very long escalator like an extra in Fritz Lang’s Metropolis.
At the top of every escalator on every floor it feels, to me, like being in an institution or a hospital. There are some great works of art up there but the effort involved always seems to me to diminish the enjoyment.
In case you are still wondering, the main entrance is what looks like the delivery/service doors down the ramp on the west side of the building. Access by this route brings you directly into the vast turbine hall that almost everyone else (I am aware that I am so in the minority here) cites as so amazing. It seems to me to be just a big redundant space; the only way of using it being to commission works to fill its cavernous hole. I just don’t agree with a gallery commissioning art in this way. I have seen a few of the commissions and felt either that they were diminished/dwarfed by the building or that they reeked of commerciality.
Could this fantastic space not have been better used with rooms at high levels on the south side connected across the turbine hall by walkways? Something like Musée D’Orsay in Paris? Had they done something like this perhaps the need to spend money on the new extension wouldn’t have been necessary. But, again, I’m no architect, what do I know?!
Call me old fashioned but I like to walk into a gallery and be immediately tempted or distracted by what I can see through a door to the left, or the hall ahead. Tate Britain and the National Gallery, for instance, achieve this with ease and are always a pleasure to visit. You are ‘in the art’ within minutes.
Last year I was discussing all this with a friend on the down escalator at Tate Modern. A fella behind us joined in and said he totally agreed with me as he always liked to refer to the building as “A really good bookshop with an art gallery attached”. I couldn’t have put it better myself.

Top row: Cleveland Square, W2; Barton Street, SW1; Reeves & Sons Ltd, Ashwin St, E8; Camden High Street, NW1.

Middle row: Orford Road, E17; Charterhouse Square, EC1; Westbourne Terrace, W2; Highbury Place, N5.

Bottom Row: Crouch End Broadway, N8; Rivington Street, EC2; Farringdon Road, EC1; St Barts, EC1.