Negative capability

On Sunday I went back to Little Venice - the canal saturated neighborhood of NW London, just across the Westway from Paddington. It's where I lived (as GB's guest) when I was in London back in the late '80s - saturated with memories. And I did see GB as well, which was one of my goals. He looks good - though he had a heart attack and bypass surgery earlier in the year. Still as charismatic as ever. I didn't have to say much - he didn't have to say much - just seeing one another was enough.

I did ask about Paulos - asked GB to convey my greetings - I hope that Paulos is doing well! Tedious backstory: on a trip to London in 1998, I travelled with Stuart from Iron Harbor, for whom at the time I felt an oddly compelling infatuation. I introduced Stuart to Paulos - who is one of GB's oldest and most significant friends. Well, you know how it goes: Stuart and Paulos felt an immediate and undeniable entrapment for one another (which at the time had been the furthest thing from my mind.) Much drama and passion ensured - Paulos is Greek, after all. (Greek Cypriot, okay.) Oh, for a while they were quite the item: Paulos bought a house for Stuart in Iron Harbor, coincidentally right around the corner from my own (I don't think so). And at one point Stuart flew over to London and the two were formally bound to one another in a ceremony of formal partnering. But time passed (not much, actually) and they were no longer partners, and things became very complicated (as they are apt to become.) Nobody in Iron Harbor has heard anything from Paulos for several months, so it was good to know that he is back on his feet, so to speak.

Sundays in London are good lazy days. I spent a few hours at the Wallace Collection in Manchester Square, visiting old friends like Rubens, Reynolds, Hals and Poussin. I haven't completed my London obligations until I pay my respects to Hals' "Laughing Cavalier" and Poussin's "A Dance to the Music of Time."

Down to the Old Vic Theatre near Waterloo to see a production of Shakespeare's "A Winters' Tale." It's part of a company called "The Bridge Project," utilizing both British and American actors, with performances both in NYC and London, and under the direction of trans-atlantic guru Sam Mendes (aka Mr. Kate Winslet.) It's one of the Bard's last plays, a "problem play," classified with his "romances," with elements of tragedy, comedy and farce, all put into the blender of Shakespeare's sometimes impenetrable prose. The play combines intense marital jealousy, a shipwreck, amusing rural rogues, and a magically happy ending. Fun night on the boards and in the audience.

Ethan Hawke was particularly good as Autolycus (self-wolf?), the lovable cut-purse. Hawke's performance was confident and charismatic. It was nice seeing an American actor hold his own in Shakespeare with some veteran Brit actor pros.
I also really liked the ladies: the beautiful Victoria Hall as Hermione, the wronged wife; and Sinead Cusack as Paulina, Hermione's trusty and loyal servant. They both made every word, every line compelling.

Simon Russell Beale is a very affable actor, but I don't think he was quite strong enough to be King of Sicilia. Just my $.02 worth.

Here, in response to a reader's request, are some photos from St. Mary Woolnoth, a city church located close to the Bank of England, at one of the pie-shaped corners where King William and Lombard Streets cross.
It's an early 18th century church, designed by the famous architect Nicholas Hawksmoor, and considered to be one of the most important examples of the "high baroque style" in London. You will note Hawksmoor's apt use of Corinthian columns, something he picked up from studying the work of the Italian Bernini.

It's thought that the church derives its unusual name from one of the early (1100s) benefactors of the parish, a certain Flemish cloth merchant named Wulnoth de Walebrok.

The church was very nearly demolished in the late 19th century when the Bank tube station was constructed immediately beneath it. But architectural enthusiasts preserved it - and the building is still in use as a church, for London Swiss Protestant community. Hawksmoor built to last!

There's also a Starbucks that's leasing space from the church - they have to get money from somewhere to pay for upkeep!

St. Louis poet Thomas Stearns Eliot aludes to St. Mary Woolnoth in his comedic "The Wasteland."

Unreal City,
Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,
A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,
I had not thought death had undone so many.
Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,
And each man fixed his eyes before his feet.
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,
To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.

Even though a number of the Liverpool clubs proudly advertize that they stay open till 7 am, I didn't make a late night of it Saturday night. So I was feeling fresh and frisky Sunday morning for a little stroll up the hill to the cavernous Anglican Cathedral for morning services. Superlatives abound! It's reputed to be the largest Anglican Cathedral in England, if not the world. Of course, our rather sparse Sunday morning congregation of about 150 people probably could have fit into one of the toilets, but I'm sure the place does fill up on more formal, celebratory occasions. The place was designed by Giles Gilbert Scott (1880-1960), the revivalist architect also responsible for the classic English phone booth. Scott won a competition to design the new Cathedral when he was only 22, in 1902; after two world wars, and economic depression, and the fatal collapse of Liverpool's shipping industry, it wasn't until 1978 that the Cathedral was finally completed.

The guest preacher at the Cathedral was an interesting bloke, Andrew White, who is the vicar at St. George's Anglican Church in Baghdad. And has been there since 2003. He had just left Iraq a few days earlier, visiting Merseyside for friends and connections. He seems to have a valuable perspective on a lot of things that have happened there, and a natural gift of communicating his ideas as well. I'm going to have to look out for his book; I had heard that it's worth reading. Sunday afternoon I museumed down at the Albert Docks, where the Tate has installed a Liverpool outlet in one of the restored warehouse buildings. The area reminded me of similar industrial conversions in 19th century cities elsewhere, like Manchester New Hampshire, or Hamburg Germany. The Tate's does a wonderful job of installing handsome galleries and filling them with choice bits of their unequaled collections. The current main exhibit at Tate Liverpool highlights scultpure and sculptural art. An Andy Warhol soup can overlooks one of Salvador Dali's lobster phones A beautiful Barbara Hepworth wooden sculpture, carved and highly polished from a single tree trunk An intriguing "disco floor sculpture hall," complete with dance floor and individual headsets playing 1970s anthems, intending to suggest that artists who work with the human figure intend their work to be perceived in movement, not static-ly.

I also paid a visit to the International Slavery Museum, which occupies a floor of the Mersey Maritime Museum. It's a great concept, and of course it is important to connect Liverpool with the sordid trade upon which so much of its wealth was based, but I wasn't impressed with some of the exhibits, and thought generally that the musuem attempted to do too much in too small a space. (The museum attempts to show African life and culture, AND the horrors of the middle passage, AND the lives of Africans in their diaspora, up to Lenny Henry and Barack Obama, all on one floor. With not enough resources!

Then, in the evening, after a little nap, I went back to the university neighborhood of Mout Pleasant to a nice little tavern called "The Grapes" which features live Latin Jazz on Sunday nights. It was a blast!

The Hand and Shears, a classic one bar pub, no tv, no fruit machines, no updates: just around the corner from St. Bartholomew the Great Church, and a stone's throw from the Smithfield Market. Not much changed here since the mid 1800s. There is a good range of Real Ales on tap. The Hand and Shears is located at 1 Middle Street in the den of alleys known as Cloth Fair. One of the themes on this trip to London is a deeper exploration of the City of London - so I made a little effort to find some classic unmodernized pubs. Another "classic" is The Bell, located close to the Cannon Street Rail Station - actually right across the street from a new office project currently under construction. They claim that there's been a tavern on this site for at least 400 years, and that some of the interior timbering survived the Great Fire of 1666. The Bell is located at 29 Bush Lane. (They do have televisions here, including a small-flat screen, but they keep the sound down; when I was here yesterday peole were grouped around watching Wimbleton.)
The Red Lion, Duke of York Street, near Piccadilly. This gin palace has long been one of my favorite taverns in London. Beautiful cut glass in the interior - and very popular with the after-work and pre-theatre punters, as you can see!
The Spaniards Inn, Hampstead. A literary pub which is a favorite of mine and many others. (Keats, for one. Bram Stoker for another.) I was so happy to be able to walk here from my room in Highgate - though I did take the bus back.