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Now on to this week’s musings…
How do I sum up a week in London so full of joy and exhibitions and friends that I could write you an essay without end and still not get close to encompassing all I did?
Pulling into Paddington station on Saturday evening I was overcome with fondness. I hadn’t been to London since the start of the year and had begun to miss my hometown deep in my bones. It doesn’t matter where else I choose to live; London will always be home.
I had planned my week with care, fitting in as much London splendour as I could, and kicked it off with style, Lauren and I meeting Kim outside The Emirates to watch Arsenal Ladies beat Chelsea 4-1 in front of a record crowd: 59,042 people gathered to cheer on their teams. Neither Lauren nor I are football fans; I was as a kid, Arsenal shirt and all, but somewhere along the way I lost interest. However, watching with Kim, who adores football and particularly women’s football, was contagious and we all left beaming, chanting, and planning our immanent return.
There was no better welcome back to London. And the week only got better from there…
Exhibitions
How many exhibitions can one fit into a week. The answer, when armed with a Tate staff card that gets you into every paid exhibition for free, is A LOT, and every one of them was amazing.
Walking the new rooms of the National Portrait Gallery with Kim, who loves portrait galleries, was a pleasure. Every room is filled with diversity in a way it never was before, truly painting a portrait of this country.
The Wildlife Photographer of the Year made me weep, as always. If Not Now, When? at Saatchi is an intriguing mixture of styles and concepts, celebrating the important contributions of women to sculpture, the exhibition the outcome of a two year research project. Kusama was as brilliant as always, while the turbine hall installation at Tate Modern by El Anatsui took my breath away with genuine awe.
I shared A World in Common with my friend Jordan, both of us blown away by the powerful art, and the curating from Tate, who have done a fantastic job putting this exhibit together. There was so much on show it was easy to find something that spoke to me on a deep level, the photographs searing themselves into my mind.
Lauren, who is among my very favourite people in the world to share art with, took me to the William Morris Gallery for the first time, and joined me at the Hayward. Radical Landscapes was a fascinating exhibit, a brilliant and timely re-examination of the landscape genre. Hiroshi Sugimoto was spectacular. I have adored his photographs since undergrad but had never seen them in person. They are richer, deeper, and more compelling than I imagined they could be, and I left in awe of his imagination.
With all of that it’s hard to imagine anything could be better, but Re/Sisters at the Barbican blew them all away, easily one of the best exhibitions I have ever seen. I could write you an entire letter about this one show. A photography exhibition, it describes itself as:
‘A Len on Gender and Ecology: A major group exhibition exploring the relationship between gender and ecology, highlighting the systemic links between the oppression of women and the degradation of the planet.’
It’s a big ask from an exhibition but the Barbican delivered. It is powerful, confrontational yet accessible, moving and enraging, thought provoking and inspiring in equal measure. The diversity of the work and the artists was exceptional, and the single message that was woven together from the different issues and subjects explored by those artists was a masterful piece of curation. The impact from this show will be felt in my work I make for years to come.
Friends and Family
Between the many exhibitions I saw beloved friends and family (and not only those who joined me within the gallery walls). Dinner with Tessa and Nikki ended surprisingly late considering they are both teachers and it was a school night, but we couldn’t stop talking and the hours passed unnoticed. Lunch with Kim and our Dad in London was filled with stories of travel over delicious Italian. My day with my beloved grandmother will be treasured forever. Brunch with Paul, Anne Marie and Alfie the dog was filled with warm laughter and delicious cheese. A walk on The Heath with Lauren and Hetty ended my London week among the trees of my soul home in the company of soul sisters. Every hug and smiling face was a blessing.
A New Craft
During recovery from surgery, I fell down a YouTube rabbit hole watching a fashion historian named Bernadette Banner sew reconstructions of Victorian and Edwardian clothing, from walking skirts to secret cycling trousers. She makes each piece using historical methods and produces beautiful, often funny, videos of her process. They are hypnotic and compelling, and I have now watched every video on her channel. The result, somewhat predictably, was a burning desire to sew my own clothes. I have been knitting for years, and can now make some truly complex jumpers, but I have never sewn more than a button. So I enlisted Laurens help. In her safe hands I went to Ray Stitch, which turns out to be the second most gorgeous shop in London (after Shepherds book binders and fine papers). Bolts of cloth on neatly organised and labelled shelves, huge tables, a room full of patterns, a wall of buttons. Thanks to Lauren’s gentle guidance and expertise, and the professional advice of the shop assistants, I came away with a pattern, the most beautiful dark green cotton twill, and some rather gorgeous scissors and tailors chalk to start my sewing basket. Now to learn to sew.
It gets better
All of that would be enough, but something else happened, something incredible, something unreal, something that took place solely because of the generosity of my sister, who bought us tickets for my birthday.
We went to Hamilton.
It was easily the greatest night of my life.
I am not exaggerating when I say I have been OBSESSED with Hamilton and Lin-Manuel Miranda since the original cast film from Broadway was released on Disney Plus. I have listened to the soundtrack so many times even my iPhone must of have lost count by now. I know all the words, most of them without the music playing. I have read and listened to every interview and podcast. For me, Hamilton is one of the greatest works of art created in this or any other century.
But I hadn’t seen it live. We sat in the stalls, in seats Kim let me pick, and watched as Hamilton arrived in New York City, met Aaron Burr (Sir), and turned the world upside down. I knew it would be good, but I had no idea how good it could be. With an audience so alive with excitement the Victoria Palace Theatre was electric, the cast reached heights I have never seen, heard, or felt before. They had to wait a beat after almost every song so that audience can break into rapturous applause, and it is deserved. From the ensemble to the leads every note, every movement, every costume, every prop, every piece of lighting is perfect. It was both incredibly similar to the original, and yet startlingly different. When Angelica sang Satisfied, I clapped my hands almost roar. When King George sang You’ll Be Back, I laughed hysterically. When Eliza sang Burn, I was so awestruck I couldn’t even cry. And when Hamilton and his crew of friends sang My Shot, I was swept away heart and soul. I genuinely don’t have words for the depth of my joy at the experience. I would go again tomorrow if I could. I am so grateful to have been at all.
So that is where I leave you, my mind swirling with art and wonder and song. I wish you all a very merry festive season of light and love.