All Flocked About, Like Pigeons Around Breadcrumbs

A few details that I’d like to dispose of before I talk about today. They’re about Harrods. They occurred to me as I was walking. There’s a sports brand called “Sweaty Betty” and another sports brand, of shoes, called “Sweatshop.” Ironic or not, these may be the worst names of anything I’ve heard, and I’m shocked and appalled at myself for neglecting to remember until now.

It seems an appropriate time to describe my hostel. My room is just large enough to contain my bed and a sink (with mirror), my two suitcases and myself. It is cozy in its good times; sepulchral in its bad times. The hostel itself is filled with younger people who can be divided into roughly three groups:

1) Germans. They smoke cigarettes like models trying to get their weight down. They dress like grunge never left. Their hairstyles suggest a hockey match. They are continually horsing around. I believe they are a part of a school or group or something, as they depart en masse onto a coach. I am not sure about their command of English, since their attention to petty politenesses is lacking in a way that suggests ignorance.
2) Fashonistas. Although they are living cheap, they certainly don’t dress or act cheap. If you see a fashionista before 11 AM, it is probably because either the hangover woke them up or because whomever they slept with has kicked them up. It is in the rulebook that sunglasses must be worn no matter what time or outfit accompanies it. Also, all fashionistas know one another despite barriers of language or culture. Sample fashionista conversation: “I wanna do something tonight.” “There’s a club nearby.”
3) Everyone else. Grab bag, not really too much to say.

Shockingly, due to the preponderance of groups 1) and 2), the hostel is not particularly noisy, nor is the bar well-patronized, despite dirt-cheap prices. I say shockingly because partying is much more appealing when you know everyone in question (i.e. group 1)) or when partying appears to be your only reason for coming (i.e. group 2)). I can’t say I disapprove myself; while I enjoy partying as much as the next guy, I also enjoy a good night’s sleep, the better to punish myself with absurdly long walks.

My first absurdly long walk, to the British Museum, clocked in at ~1 hr 18 min. This was the first leg, of course. But it was worth it. I’d been in once before, when I spent an hour in one room. I wasn’t that focused today, as I wanted to get a sense of the whole museum so I wouldn’t have to return.

I made sure, of course, to see the Rosetta Stone. Like most really famous pieces in a museum, people were flocked about it, like pigeons around breadcrumbs. When you’ve got something like the Rosetta Stone or the Mona Lisa, its fame prevents you from ever getting a real good knowledge of the object in question. That’s probably something that’s true of all famous things, anyway.

But the British Museum is a lot more than that, obviously. I was very favorably impressed by the museum, despite the insane number of exhibits that were closed (several Greek-Roman rooms, a China room and the entire Japan exhibit!).

First, I determined that when I described the place, I would have to purchase a Roget’s Thesaurus and look up synonyms for ‘big.’ Variations of that word will occur frequently; there’s a left arm from an Egyptian statue three times mine and several times thicker, for example. There are giant heads from Egyptian statues that are many times life size. The Assyrian statues of lion-eagles that decorated city walls are awesome, in the old sense of the word. There’s even a reconstruction of a Greek temple (NOT the Parthenon). Speaking of the Parthenon, the Elgin Marbles are more interesting as controversy than art, I think. The friezes from the outside are weathered and beaten and the survivors show it, while the statues from the interior are interesting but too destroyed to be impressive. The gallery handles the controversy by discussing it in a side room. The actual room that houses the Marbles is beautiful and naturally lit. In fact, for a country that has so little contact with the sun, the British Museum utilizes the sun beautifully. Perhaps the most incredible way the Museum shows the vast size of its collections is that several pieces of art are poorly placed, either behind other pieces or on stairs.

But even more impressive than the size and variety of its collections is its user-friendliness. The gallery is organized very sensibly and the maps are very clear. Furthermore, in the most user-friendly move of all, you can actually touch some pieces. Every few rooms or so, a curator will sit down at a desk and talk about some pieces of art that are placed in open air that can be touched. So my hands have been in contact with a coin from ~500 B.C., a warrior’s belt buckle (that is absurdly complicated and well-carved) from ~400 B.C., all sorts of jade and stuff while the curator explained the history behind it. Neato!

Then I proceeded on to the National Gallery. Along the way I had lunch. It was average. The problem with London, food-wise, is not so much that it is so expensive, as there are many cheap, affordable restaurants. It is that all the affordable restaurants sell the exact same things, and its not that the sandwiches and soups are bad per se, it’s just that one gets tired, especially when one happens to notice the gorgeous steaming steak being carried over to one’s neighbor in the adjoining outdoor restaurant.

I enjoyed the National Gallery in a qualified way. First, the building itself is quite nice, in the Neoclassical style. Actually, I only enjoy the Neoclassical style in buildings. This is a problem when your collection covers 1200-1900. I don’t like early sacred art and I find Neoclassical art boring and repetitious. So I spent much of my time gliding by pieces.

But periodically, a painting in the Gallery would simply stop me. Not so much from recognition on the plaques—I always read those after I see the picture—but from the picture itself. Interestingly, the pieces that stopped me (before Impressionism, at least, which I spent much more time on), were almost all by famous people. Three Rembrandts, two Caravaggios and two El Grecos stopped me (although El Greco’s style is so distinctive, you’d know it simply by seeing it. Also I love El Greco.).

The section from 1800 on is excellent, with a number of pictures by Degas, Manet, Monet, Renoir, etc. Two paintings in particular impressed me. First was Monet’s of the Parliament building, done in spectacular pinks and purples; second was chronologically the last picture in its holdings, a Picasso in the blue period.

Some comedic notes about the Library: of all the sacred art, what would you guess the most popular subject was? More specific than Jesus, of course. What I mean is, that the Virgin and Child alone were probably the most common subject (unsurprising), and the second most popular, was the Three Kings’ Adoration of baby Jesus. Also of particular hilarity was the Henry VIII commissioned portrait of his potential wife. The portrait was ugly, which probably saved her a premature death. Also, every room was sponsored by some donor or another. My favorite? Oh, that’s too easy: the Yves Saint-Laurent room.

It was still quite early, and I was in the area, so I went to the Apple Store. I wanted to check out the new iPods. I was in luck; they had just come in. As I entered the store, they were just syncing up the iPod Touches. Save two, which were flocked about, like pigeons around breadcrumbs. When I was there, there was a simple ring about the iPod Touches; perhaps an hour later, when I passed the Apple Store again going home, the ring was three deep. I saw two people buy one on the spot. I suppose it’s on some level justified. It’s a beautiful device and the screen is gigantic. If you’re a multimedia-type person, I would say the iPod Touch is for you; if you’re more into music, then the Classic’s for you (although the screen on that is much improved).

In connection to the British Museum, I was also thinking, what objects are we likely to leave behind for future generations (assuming we don’t kill each other first—also, isn’t it depressing that whenever future generations are discussed, this caveat has to apply? Somehow I bet past generations didn’t do this.)? Well, my guess is that the iPod will be it, and that’s a prospect that I find more than acceptable.

I stopped by a Café Creperie, which was excellent. I paid, and went home. Later, I checked my wallet and found that instead of two fives plus coins for change (proper change), I had been given a ten and a five plus change (bonus!).

*****

A few miscellany:

RANDOM COUNTS:

WOMEN IN FULL-BODY HIJABS: 7 (not a group)

COLLEGE SHIRTS (CUMULATIVE SINCE YESTERDAY):
CAL: 3
UCLA: 2
HARVARD: 1
UNIVERSITY OF (some state)—DII football champs: 1
All others: 0

Entertaining notes: While walking, I ran across a number of pamphlet-distributors. The distribution strategy apparently includes one blonde and then one not-blonde, because that’s what appears to be controlling…Double-breasted suits are worn an awful lot here…Apparently the worst banking crisis in a generation is going on and I missed it…When I returned to the hostel today, a number of people were watching and apparently enjoying Malcolm in the Middle. Some things defy explanation….