A Rainy Night....

In Soho (and other stories)....

Anouk Aimee entices me. What can you say? Her call is her call. I sometimes wish it was so simple.....

But it is a rainy night. And I am in Soho. Not that that means much these days.....

I mean, far from the seedy side, these days you can be clean.....

And you don't need to be hungry....

I'm not singing for the future

I'm not dreaming of the past

I'm not talking of the first time

I never think about the last

Everywhere changes.  Nothing remains.  (The centre cannot hold....)  Cold, shiny alleys are the veins of an older city....

And where for sixty years or so i camisa & son provided the best of Italy on Old Compton Street, economical issues led to the demise of the family firm. It is sad to face the old shop front, without the bicycle, and to think of the passing of time..... But that is how it is....

And not far away there is another outpost of Europe, where pints are not the accepted measure....

Meanwhile there are those who like to sit:

And those who seek:

And the cool cats who rely on past vibes:

And those who, like me, will pay over the odds for something that reminds the soul of Italy:

Yay! 

Though one must not forget that there is inequality and some may sit on the cold steps of society rather than in the comfort of hallowed halls:

Night falls, and there are those who have no memories, no sense of the past, but who enjoy in their own perfectly secure way the delight of the now:

And the plastic angels still fly overhead, as they have flown for some years now.....

While, as dawn begins to wash the pavements, the big names reappear, their price tags only a mark of the way some people have, and others don't.....

It is Christmas time after all,

And everything is shiny and high gloss - good for glittering memories:

Nothing can be said about these delightful windows and their messages.  As long as I have more than you, or less than you, it matters not whether Jesus was born in a stable, nor whether he was conceived by miracle....

And all the tinsel and baubles and glitter of Christmas says is that in the depths of ugly winter we must rise up and cheer each other with love and kindness:

Whether we are Fortnum, or Mason.... Or immigrant, or visitor, or poor, or rich,

We should remember refugees and immigrants and those who have nowhere to lay their new born, even if the stage is clumsy and chronologically inaccurate:

And not forgetting that only a few yards away the scene is even less composed:

And that Nelson, our National Hero, is reduced to a fairy figure atop a foreign tree:

But then, with a new day, we take time to review the lives and works of:

Remarking that an early woodland work by Constable would have been the perfect image for Winnie the Pooh [Isn't that sacrilege?  Ed]

But then as the years passed and life took its toll, we find that both masters are watching the clouds form and the rain lash down.  Tell me who painted this?

And who this?

If you know your chocolates, this won't be difficult, but it was a surprise to me that John Constable (the painter of the second picture above) was just as able as his contemporary Turner to depict the falling of the skies, the concatenation of watery forms, and the lights of whirling shadows.

And so, I am led to the darkness again, and wander through the park night, marvelling at the variety of illusion around me, sometimes grand and robust:

Sometimes heartbreakingly alone and just soooo overthinking:

The Serpentine seems almost inviting in its pearly sheen:

But then the lights of the great Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park restore my faith in the Christmas Spirit, and I am reminded of how life is really about other people - I am reminded that it is worth attempting to understand the Buddhist concept of Dukkha, as the wheel of life turns.....

Though by a curious coincidence it is Claudia Cardinale who shakes me out of my melancholy and encourages me to consider the sinuous strands of sanity:

Don't ask me how, but Fellini's Otto e Mezzo still has the power to poke fun at my state of indecision.....

I'm not singing for the future

I'm not dreaming of the past

I'm not talking of the first time

I never think about the last

Now this song is nearly over

We may never find out what it means

Still there's a light I hold before me

And you're the measure of my dreams, the measure of my dreams

Shane Macgowan

A Rainy Night in Soho

Norwich (Again....)

Deep in the heart of Norfolk....

Handstands in the cloisters..... It takes all sorts..... Though I am not sure that Herbert de Losinga (he that built this place) would approve..... Herbert was the first Bishop here and apparently he founded the abbey to atone for the sin of bribery, which he had used to get the job in the first place.  How things change, Eh?  Can't imagine that sort of behaviour in this dayanage..... [How very Trumpian.  Ed]

Still it is a beautiful romanesque building, though there have been many changes over the centuries.... It didn't have a golden weathercock-topped (possibly since 1668) spire (at 315 feet - 96 metres - second only in height to Salisbury in this country), nor a clerestory, until the fifteenth century.

The spire, by the way, is now a breeding ground for Peregrines, which are monitored with a webcam by the Hawk and Owl Trust in the season.....

And nor did the Cathedral have a copper font, (gifted in 1994) once used for boiling toffee in Rowntree's Norwich chocolate business, [Sweet?  Ed]:

The building was begun in 1109, using limestone imported from Caen and ferried up the waterways from Yarmouth to where the Wensum washes the Cathedral precincts.  But the original timber roof was replaced with beautiful stone vaulting in 1460:

And the perpendicular style fan vaulting is embellished with hundreds of medieval bosses which, in the nave, tell the stories of the Bible’s New and Old Testaments from Creation to the Last Judgement:

Though the extent of the nave is blocked by the Stephen Dykes Bower organ, installed above the pulpitum in 1950, the presbytery was once Losinga's throne room, and the apse with its chapels and chantries are part of the original splendour of this great building.  To the north side is the Jesus Chapel which is a model of Norman simplicity: 

While the similar St Luke's Chapel to the south  contains the Despenser Reredos (commissioned by Bishop le Despenser to celebrate his suppression of local support for the Peasants' Revolt in 1381) the only remaining medieval English altarpiece with scenes from Christ's passion (see earlier blog piece, link below, for picture).  This remarkable work was disguised as the underside of a table until 1847, which may explain its survival.  Also here, above the ancient font, hangs a Chrismatory, containing Holy Oils for anointing and healing - recognising that St Luke was a doctor.... 

Just outside St Saviour's Chapel is the grave of local heroine Edith Cavell: 

Adjoining the Cathedral, is the largest monastic cloister in the country, which, in the days of the Benedictine Priory, linked the Church, Chapter House and original Library and Refectory, but which today holds a central labyrinth in the green - though this is currently closed and the space seems to have been adopted by an energetic young gymnast....  Why not?  Though I will restrain myself....

However..... It actually wasn't the Cathedral we had come to see. Some fifty years or so after the Battle of Hastings, William the Conqueror's son, King Henry I, decided to build an impressive royal palace in Norwich, which, at the time, was the second city in England. 

Following a multi-million pound grant from the National Lottery Fund, we are invited (according to the Norwich Castle Museum's website) to visit his royal apartments and the richly decorated rooms of the early 12th century.

Again, according to their website, Based on extensive research by leading experts and lovingly recreated by master craftspeople, [we] can now explore what life was like in a Norman royal palace.

Well....  maybe....  If I was still a year 6 pupil on a day's jolly, I might, perhaps, be impressed by the plates of rubber food and the garishly painted furniture, but, to be honest [Not dyspeptic?  Ed] I was unmoved.....

There are vestiges of the original building, such as this arch within the masonry:

But look at the amount of new work that has been inserted.  What is most characteristic of the original workmen, or of the inhabitants, are crude graffiti carvings, such as these (my favourite being the cocky bird at the top):

And, via steep steps (the lift is out of order) we can scan the city, admiring the hotchpotch of architectural styles that have accumulated over the centuries, from the lead-sealed roof, though a watchful guard and temporary signs tell us not to stand on the benches, so the views are actually quite limited:

Which [Elf and Safety gone mad?  Ed] is bit at odds with the hole in the wall on the floor below which opens onto a terrifyingly deep well shaft which, as far as I can see, has no safety net.  If I was a year 6 pupil on a day's jolly I would most certainly want to lean over and drop something (like my worst enemy, or my PE teacher) in.....

One of two well shafts in the keep - this one is glazed (I think)

The Castle has had a chequered history. Henry I never lived here, visiting only for Christmas in 1121. From the 14th century the keep was used as a county gaol, until a new gaol, designed by Sir John Soane, was constructed both inside and around the keep in 1792-93.  Soane had worked on national projects, such as the Bank of England, but also several local buildings, including the Hall at Shotesham Park which was commissioned in 1784 by one of the prison magistrates, Robert Fellowes, the son of philanthropist William Fellowes who notably founded the Norfolk and Norwich hospital, laying the foundation stone in 1771.....

However, despite this pedigree, the prison was quickly seen as outdated and difficult to patrol and so the outside block was demolished between 1822 and 1827.

With the city's industries declining and the gaol becoming inadequate for purpose, the Castle's fortunes hit rock bottom, until 23 October 1894 when Norwich Castle Museum was officially opened by the Duke and Duchess of York [Shome mistake?  Ed]. Three days later, the public were able to enter for the first time....

So we descend from the reconstituted keep to the museum, through a rather fetching light show, to the ground floor:

Having a particular interest in Snettisham (our home village) it is a little disappointing to find that the few pieces of the Snettisham Hoard are tucked away in a dark corner of what may be supposed to represent an Iron Age dwelling.

Known as the ‘Snettisham Treasure’, the objects found some seventy years ago on the Ken Hill Estate in the 'Gold Field' (on land close by my home)  represent one of the largest collections of prehistoric precious metal objects ever discovered, and one of the largest concentrations of Celtic art. The objects were found in at least 14 separate hoards buried between 150 BC and AD 100 – spanning the late Iron Age and early Roman periods, but with a peak of activity during the late Iron Age.

The most precious of these items are now in the British Museum, but it is something of a disappointment that Norwich Castle Museum doesn't make more of this extraordinary find.

By way of compensation, however, the art gallery holds a fine portrait of my neighbours, Henry and Mary Styleman, who live at Snettisham Hall, just yards from my front door.... 

Though I should explain that they moved on some years ago, I still think of them as if they ride past my window every morning.... [I think that is someone else, Ed].  The picture is not only fine, but it is unusual.....  It was the product of a collaboration between three of the best known artists of the day: Johann Zoffany painted the figures, Sawrey Gilpin the horses, groom and hounds, and the background was filled in by Joseph Faringdon.  The picture was commissioned in 1780 (when the couple were married) and was completed in 1783.  It remained in the family until 1950.....

So, with that in mind, we retrace our tracks back home, to try and catch the sunset over the Wash, when the Geese honk out of the darkening sky to their watery roosts. Tiny specks in family formations hurrying back from the sugar beet fields, thousands of pink-footed geese, Anser brachyrhynchus, clutter the sky as they flap overhead....

And then night falls, and the rising moon floodlights the spire of St Mary's, reminding us of Norwich in miniature..... 

Without the handstands.... 

And another day turns:

I mark the months in liveries dank and dry, 

The day-tides many-shaped and hued; 

I see the nightfall shades subtrude, 

And hear the monotonous hours clang negligently by.

Thomas Hardy

A Sign-Seeker

*****

I have photographed and written about Norwich on two previous occasions - once in 2015 and then again in 2021. Both pieces portray aspects of the Cathedral but perhaps also display a slightly dyspeptic view of the city, and include some fancifully adjusted pictures. This visit was different, under different circumstances, and, if you are so inclined, it may be interesting to compare the differing views.....

https://www.richardpgibbs.org/2015/10/norwich-city.html

https://www.richardpgibbs.org/2021/08/visut-to-naaarj.html