Travels With My Shoes

London June 1 – June 8, has been a series of meanderings from my austere lodging at Goldsmiths Hall, no ensuite bathroom but a huge bath at the end of the corridor that it seems only I use every evening to soak my aching bones. Off in the morning for an Americano, a large mug of hot water with 4 espresso, seems to get me going.

I’ve had to pick and choose a bit, about what art to see, although Tate Modern is in between 2 great shows, Rodchenko and the Futurists, so it was narrowed down. BUT without doubt, sin duda, best art seen, was a diptych that opened “Garden and Cosmos,” at the British Museum called “Sage Markeandaya’s Ashram and the Ocean of Milk.” An indigo blue/purple Vishnu sleeps peacefully in a boat of what looks like 15 albino moray eels on a sea of grey incised with delicate black lines. The other side is a more conventional decorative Indian painting. This was a knockout. Other work in the exhibit also had a startling originality but this one gave me what I call “the whiplash effect.”
Chris Kenny, a friend and artist here, directed me to the Samuel Johnson house, off an alley close to Fleet Street, to see “The House Of Words,” an exhibit of text cut and pasted, sliced and diced, text laser cut into fine arabseques, text elevated above TEXTING. All this to celebrate the tri-centenary of SJ’s birth.

I wanted to venture into more alternative venues… Parasol Unit on Wharf Road by Angel had “Parades and Procession: Here Comes Everybody.” The piece most photographed for the show was an installation of what looked like mannequin arms poking through insulation foam painted day-glo orange by Thomas Hirschhorn. This proved hazardous for me. As I was turning to leave I tripped over a corner and squeaky sound got the gallery gal running to the scene, to see the damage. It was CHIPPED. I apologised but said that I thought if it’s going to be on the floor…(And here I am trying to convince my venue to have my shoes on the floor!) And the William Kentridge shadow puppet ‘movie’ was best. Parasol was once ‘alternative’ but I was told not so much now by a cognoscenti I followed in.

I visited England and Co., a gallery on Westbourne Grove where Chris shows his work, and found more text scissor wizardry from Georgia Russell. Quite an amazing work, actually done with a scalpel.
So what else is there after art but food. As in Baltimore a big coffee, but without Othello. I carry a small Moleskin book and begin the daily scribbling that continues on the subway and whenever I’m seated. Although the scribbles become unrecognizable I still believe they are the best way to record time.
Best meal for on-the-run between places: Pret a Manger, or Pretty Mange. A chain… but decent.
Best breakfast and on the go food, as always, celery carried in my back pack. Dinner is always a bit weird. I enjoy traveling alone but going into a restaurant for dinner solo is always hmm……….”Table for one?” Always the question mark. Plus I have never liked being served. Sometimes I go the Whole Food, yes there is one around the corner, buy a special and sit at a table on the sidewalk.

Last night it was late and brought back olives wine and cheese etc.. .
Even lunch at a Lebanese salad bar was weird. They put me front and center. And I put hummus on what I think what was supposed to be a dessert, but looked like pita. The food was actually great.
Thursday night, I saw a fantastic Iranian Film, “The Colour of Paradise” (1990) at the British Museum.
I also saw “Sleep Furiously,” directed by Gideon Koppel. About a small Welsh village, I guess it will get to the US soon, remarkable.

Otherwise no HUGE catastrophe, but still, small blunders. I had to buy an alarm clock to get up early on Monday flight day. I tested it and it DIDN’T work! Ah—How clever I was to test it – Yes? So I ran out to the small shop before it closed and breathlessly said: “Remember me from early this morning?” “YES ” “Well the alarm doesn’t work on this!” He took it, and popped something up, and it WENT OFF. I rolled my eyes, apologized and slunk out. A couple of those sorts of things this week actually, but that was the latest.

I also had a lovely lunch with Jacquie Ryder and Franca her eldest daughter (my pal as a kid). Jacquie is Chris Kenny’s mother in law. Ryders and Pettuses were very good friends in London and it’s always a pleasure to see whoever is available while I’m here.

As always I’m on the look out for shoes. Alistair Johnson found a tiny infant shoe when he Dian and I walked to a pub for dinner. I picked it up and have been working on it with olive pits and dark fleece from Victoria’s sheep in Lincolnshire. I often pass a boot, just out of reach on Park Village East. I’ve been tempted to climb over the wall to get it! I’m thinking maybe next year I’ll set up shop in Goldsmiths Hall and begin a group of London shoes.

This entry was posted on Thursday, June 11th, 2009 at 7:08 am