April 21: Fabulous Weather, the Wallace Collection, and London!

Today we went to see “The Wallace Collection”, wandered in Hyde Park, and met Alanna for a pub dinner and then a stroll through London in the twilight.

We began our day with the discovery that the Underground was out of commission again – this time with a derailment at Holland Park.  We were trying to get to Bond Street, and the Overground busses were packed to bursting.  My horrible experiences of Sunday came in handy, as I knew exactly how to divert around the closed stations on the Piccadilly Line.  Our journey had been projected to take about 20 minutes, and with the workaround we made it in 35.  At least my unfortunate experiences were good for something!

And so we weren’t too frazzled for our trip to The Wallace Collection.  It is a fabulous collection of Eighteenth Century Art, all set out in Hertford House, with dazzling period rooms and furnishings, on Manchester Square.  To get there, we walked past (and through) Selfridges Department Store.  We marvelled at the Designer Fashions and their prices, and saw the ranks of clerks dressed all in black, waiting behind their counters.  I was surprised to see a woman in a burka, covered except for her eyes, standing with her young daughter at a cosmetics counter.  The only things we could afford were the free samples of face cream.

It was a delightful walk to the Wallace Collection.  Two blocks off Oxford Street sits this gem of a museum, not too crowded, and with an accessible, not too overwhelming art collection.  The ground floor is full of spectacular rooms that we would walk into and have to just absorb for a moment, as though we had to let our other senses adjust, along with our eyes.  I loved the Gold Salon, while Kathleen couldn’t believe the Green Room.  They were both hung with silk and just stupefyingly over-the-top, with Rococo ornamentation dripping from every surface that met the eye.  

The furnishings were all deserving of a few moments of appreciation.  We loved the sphinx clock from France, and the intricately inlaid cabinets, one of which had at least 20 locking drawers – not counting the hidden ones.

The objets d’arte showed amazing variety, from a carved wooden head of John the Baptist (platter now lost) to miniature portraits, ceramics, bronze statues, marble busts, and an entire gallery of Medieval weaponry.  

Kathleen loved this suit of armour.  She says it looks "so modern".

Upstairs, each of the rooms was hung with paintings.  I liked the fact that this was a family’s art collection.  Most of the famous artists of the day – Van Dyck, Constable, Rubens, Constable, Gansborough are represented, and many famous portraits, such as Napoleon while a young general, King George IV and a very young Queen Victoria, gazed back at us. 

 It was electrifying to think that the subjects of these portraits had gazed upon the same objects we were gazing upon today.  What did they think of their portraits?

Kathleen and I both had “Aha” moments.  Mine was when I noticed books by Frances Burney for sale in the bookstore, and mentioned to the salesman that I had done my Masters’ thesis on Burney.  He replied that she wrote about her visits to the house in her diary, and I suddenly realized that I was treading where the author had trod!  Up in the Grand Salon, Kathleen came up to me literally shaking with excitement.  “I just realized that I am looking at a real Rembrandt in London,” she squeaked. 

Kathleen's "Aha" painting by Rembrandt.

There were famous works of art that we had seen before in reproductions, but it is always surprising and enlightening to see them in real life.  

My favourite paintings were the woman on the swing, and a portrait of Mrs. Reynolds, which was used in the Oxford edition of Camilla that I used when writing my thesis -- and which I have seen a thousand times. I ended up buying them both as fridge magnets, justifying their expense because the money from the gift shop supports this free museum.

Kathleen’s favourite portrait was the girl with a dog, by Reynolds.  At least we both love Rynolds!

We had meant to spend about an hour in the museum, but the next thing we knew it was lunchtime.  We sat in the courtyard, completely enclosed in skylights far overhead, and drank tea and ate terrine and quiche.  We felt very grown up, as we discussed the flaw in Reynold’s pigments that caused the red in his faces to bleach out to white, and misleading people who studied the paintings into believing that London Society powdered their faces as much as their wigs.

Our plan had been to picnic in Hyde Park, but we decided we would just walk there instead.  We had thought of taking the tube to Kensington Palace, and then wandering back toward town, where we were to meet Alanna.  Of course, the tube was horribly slow today, and the next train to the already crowded station was fourteen minutes away.  We decided to reverse the direction of our walk, and walked back up the stairs into the sunshine.

Out on Oxford Street, we soon discovered why the tube was so packed.  There was a demonstration going on to “Save the Black Taxi” industry, which was done with scooters and motorbikes beeping their horns, the drivers waving placards, and basically bringing traffic to a standstill.  We bought a couple of things from a street vendor who ripped us off for 6 pounds, and walked down to Marble Arch.

The day was gorgeous, and soon our jackets and sweaters were packed in our bags, and we were at Marble Arch.  We liked this statue, which is a horse’s head, although I’d hate to tell you what Kathleen thought it was, viewed from the back!

We wandered around Hyde Park and just felt happy – it is a nice feeling.  The sun was shining, birds were singing, flowers were blooming, and Londoners sure make use of their parks.  Kathleen was thrilled to see a big sheep dog like Nana gamboling across the lawns were J.M. Barrie composed Peter Pan.

My favourite moment was either two small children playing together by solemnly handing each other blades of grass, or the man in his eighties sunbathing in a Speedo.  They both seem like such affirmations of life!

We sat for a while by the Serpentine, the artificial lake in the park, and watched all of the birds glide by.  One was a black duck with a white face and beak, and Kathleen dubbed him, “The Phantom of the Opera” duck, which made us laugh hysterically.

We saw the Princess Diana Memorial Fountain, which was being used as a paddling pool – we didn’t think she would mind, and then photographed the Albert Memorial and Albert Hall. 

We walked down to Kensington Palace – about to welcome a new prince or princess any day now – and then realized we needed to meet Alanna in 40 minutes – and we were at the wrong end of the park.

We walked back the length of the park, and got on to the tube at Kensington.  When the train arrived, it was so full that we didn’t see how we would get on, but we were late for Alanna with no way of letting her know, so we squished on.  I will never complain about my commute again!  For 4 stations we rode, with more people squishing on behind us at each stop.  We couldn’t hold on to anything, but it didn’t matter:  if we had fainted, we wouldn’t have fallen down.  My front was crushed into this very dignified man (he was about 60), and he just ignored the fact that he was wearing my breasts along with me.

After four stops, we were pushed back out, bloody but unbowed, at Leicester Square, and hurried to meet Alanna.  We were fifteen minutes, late, but she had just arrived herself, so we headed off to the pub for dinner.  

Madonna and Child.

Alanna took us on a midnight stroll, past the memorial of the Crimean War and Florence Nightingale – pictures of us all with Florence for Mom – past the memorial to the Queen Mother and King George, past Buckingham Palace, through the park, back to Big Ben.  It was lovely in the twilight, and even lovelier to gaze at the Houses of Parliament all lighted up.