Showing posts with label Roberto Calvi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Roberto Calvi. Show all posts

28 December 2015

London 14 - The Thames & its Bridges

Liquid ‘istory





The river Thames is the aorta of England. It has played an essential part in our culture and history for more than two thousand years. As a division between kingdoms and counties, as a haven for seafarers and a thoroughfare for traders, and as a watermark on the fragile seals of parliaments, its importance is unrivalled.




While its currents are ever-changing, and its banks are never-the-same, the river has an entity that transcends ephemera.  From one end of London to another, the streaming tides are constantly washing the face of history, and as we walk along its length we stumble on shards of stories that shore up the life of this fragment of the world.




And as the centuries pass, despite its wilful energy, the Thames has been to a certain extent tamed, and leashed, and crossed and tied. Basins have been dug to shelter ships from excess; tributaries have been sheathed and tapped and dried; tunnels have been bored underneath, and bridges have been stepped across its mighty flow.



For two thousand years we have endeavoured to span the dangerous flow, and from the time when the river was practically impassable, to the 200 bridges, 27 tunnels, six public ferries, one cable car link, and one ford that today allow passage to humankind, the story has followed in the wake of man’s technological development, and has tallied the history of transport, politics and the language of this land.  Without Chaucer, Shakespeare might not have achieved such fame; without Spenser, poetry might not have flowed so free; without Dickens, our fondness for story and character might not have grown so florid.  And all of these, besides their imitators, have been shaped by the dark coursing waters of the Thames as it scours its way through London…..



Though other rivers far outstrip this stream in magnitude, from the Tagus to the Nile, and from the Mississippi to the Amazon, few may challenge the tales these waters can tell, and to this day, to my mind at least, there is little so pleasantly intriguing, so imaginatively distracting, as a walk beside our father, the Thames.



And now, as Janus looks back and forth, and it is the season of the quiz, I offer you a little game to play.  I realised just recently how often I have spent time beside the river, and then realised that over the years I have followed its course from Surrey into Kent, crossing and re-crossing both above and below the waves, so it seemed fair to create a game. 

And what better than a game of Bridge?






A Game of Bridge


1)     Who built the first London Bridge?  (a) Alfred the Great (b) The Romans (c) Boadicea? 

2)     Why did Old London Bridge fall down?  (a) Fire in 1212  (b) Neglect by Eleanor of Provence in the 1270s (c) Ice in 1281? 

3)     Until when was the Medieval London Bridge the only bridge across the Thames in London?  (a) mid sixteenth century (b) mid seventeenth century (c) mid eighteenth century? 



4)     Where is the 1831 London Bridge (which replaced the medieval one) now?  (a) at the bottom of the river (b) in Japan (c) in Arizona

5)     Which bridge carries the following notice:  All Troops Must Break Step When Marching Over This Bridge?  (a) Chelsea, (b) Hammersmith, (c) Albert? 

6)     Under which bridge was Italian banker Roberto Calvi found hanging on June 18th, 1982?  (a) Blackfriars Road Bridge, (b) Blackfriars Railway Bridge, (c) Waterloo? 

7)     Which is the only bridge across the Thames east of Tower Bridge?  (a) Dartford, (b) Emirates Air Line, (c) Queen Elizabeth II? 

8)     Why is Westminster Bridge green and Lambeth bridge red?



9)     Between which two bridges does Charles Dickens’ Our Mutual Friend begin? In these times of ours, though concerning the exact year there is no need to be precise, a boat of dirty and disreputable appearance, with two figures in it, floated on the Thames, between ***** Bridge, which is of iron, and ***** Bridge, which is of stone….. 

10)  Earth has not anything to show more fair: Why could William Wordsworth not have composed any lines on the current Westminster Bridge

11)  Whose view might this be, and from which bridge?



12)  What is the name of this bridge?



13)  What’s the story here?



14)  Which is the oldest bridge across the Thames in the Greater London area?

15)  Which bridge was reopened in 2002?

And for a bonus point:

16) Between which two bridges are Joanna Lumley and Boris Johnson intending to get into a flower bed together?








Answers: 
1) b; 

2) All three; 

3) c; 

4) c; 

5) c; 



6) a; 



7) c; 

8) Because Westminster bridge is painted the same colour as the seats in the House of Commons and Lambeth bridge is the same as the seats in the House of Lords. 

9) Southwark, and London; 

10) The sonnet was composed in 1802; Wordsworth died in 1850; the current Westminster Bridge was built in 1862; 

11) James McNeill Whistler, from Battersea Bridge; 

12) Barnes Railway Bridge; 

13) The bridge on the left is Blackfriars Road Bridge; the one on the right is the new Blackfriars Railway Bridge; the pillars in the middle are what remains of the 1864 Blackfriars Railway Bridge which carried the London, Chatham and Dover Railway; the eastern line of supporting columns have been incorporated into the new railway structure; 

14) Richmond Bridge, 1777; 



15) London Millennium Bridge, originally opened in 2000, but closed for two years following significant wobbles!





16) The Garden Bridge will be a 366 metre long, 30 metre wide, copper-nickel structure across the Thames between Waterloo and Blackfriars Bridges.  Joanna Lumley and Mayor Boris Johnson are prominent supporters.  It is expected to cost at least £175 million.


How did you do?


For a tie breaker, can you identify from which bridge this photo was taken?  



For the answer, contact me.....


Cheers!


5 August 2012

Timon of Athens - William Shakespeare

The Divine Power of Money



The Thames, The City and Blackfriars Bridge


Sunday afternoon.  The National Theatre. Matinee performance within the cavernous Olivier Theatre on the South Bank.  Packed out, with standing places behind me, despite the decent weather outside and the Olympics all around.  In fact, as a delicate irony, my neighbours exchange news in the interval that Murray has just beaten Federer: ironic because this "good" news of individual success neatly comes as Timon falls from supremacy.  Not that there is any other connection.....

The play, in short, is about a munificent and popular man of great wealth, and charm, who rashly ignores advice that his empire is about to fall.  Then, after the crash, he seeks help from former "friends" and "associates" and is denied.  In revenge he abuses them with a symbolic gesture of a cruelly negative dinner party and then disappears.

After the interval he reappears as a derelict inhabiting a nightmare world of incomplete capitalism or abused ruralism.  By an incomprehensible stroke of fortune (?) he finds there is gold beneath his feet, which in this production is under a manhole cover.  Are we invited to think of Our Mutual Friend where great wealth is derived from sewerage?  Or is there some subliminal link with Tony Soprano and his "Waste Disposal" business (or even the world of the 'Ndrangheta in Gomorrah?)  At any rate the gold serves Timon only to (further) corrupt the mob, and to generate violence against his own person from three fortune seekers who could have arrived from the world of Chaucer's The Pardoners' Tale.

Denying his erstwhile friends the capital to save their empire, Timon retreats into obscurity and we hear later that he has died, having prehumously erected his own epitaph.  The play ends with the leader of the rioters being instated as CEO of whatever organisation we imagine this parable to parallel.

It's a powerful tale.  Appropriate for our times and very neatly tailored and suited to recent episodes within our banking world - whether you are with Barclays, Natwest, Standard Chartered or hold bonds for Spain, Italy or Greece.  It is also handsomely staged - the first half within and without the shining halls of the City of London, the second half in the underbelly of such a city, as if under the buildings themselves, or where corporate development lays its foundations (the Olympic Village, for example).  Nicholas Hytner has directed with confidence and clarity and with Designer Tim Hatley has used the revolving stage and huge height of the Olivier to impressive effect.  Simon Russell Beale holds the stage with the cheek and suavity he has shown throughout his career (and even had as a young school boy at Clifton when, if I'm not mistaken, I taught him as simply Simon Beale) though his angst and confusion in the second half was more Falstaff than Lear, perhaps (and he cannot have been living off roots for long)?

Ultimately, there are no solutions; the story does not end, though the play shudders to a halt with a series of strobe lit freeze frames, as if the new protagonists are caught in the flashlights of the media.  Then it is over.  Beale beams; the cast bows.  The lights go up.  Murray has gold!

I wander out onto the balcony overlooking the timeless Thames.  The city divided by a stream of life and history that pre- and post- dates us all.  I step down onto the embankment and head East, towards St Paul's, symbol of defiant Christian principles, and towards 30 St Mary Axe, symbol of the City.  And towards Blackfriars to take the train home.....

Then, as I approach the bridge, an image comes to mind:  Roberto Calvi, swinging limply in the shadows of 1982. Chairman of the Banco Ambrosiano, known as "God's Banker" because of his links with the Vatican and Cardinal Paul Marcinkus (who reputedly had ties with the Mafia as well as the P2 Masonic Lodge) Roberto Calvi would have fitted well into a Jacobean tragedy, to include the death of his associate Michele Sindona by poisoned coffee whilst in jail (in 1986).  Although the connections with Timon are tenuous, the Wheel of Fortune turned for them both, from the elite echelons of the temporal world to the abyss of personal failure and despair.  As Timon disappears from the stage,


Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave;

Lie where the light foam of the sea may beat
Thy grave-stone daily: make thine epitaph, 
That death in me at others’ lives may laugh



so Calvi disappeared from his flat in Rome, to reappear, nine days later in June 1982, hanging above the tidal Thames, leaving his bank $1.4 billion in debt.  Timon's death is reported, but as an open verdict.  Calvi is at first declared a suicide, a suicide who had thousands of pounds in cash in his pockets as well as masonic rubble to weigh him down, and who:



hath made his everlasting mansion 
Upon the beached verge of the salt flood; 
Who once a day with his embossed froth 
The turbulent surge shall cover.


The epitaph, which Timon composed for himself, could well stand for them both, and also, perhaps, for some of those today who have allowed Karl Marx's, "divine power of money" to become, "the general distorting power both against the individual and against the bonds of society....."



Here lies a wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft:
Seek not my name: a plague consume you wicked caitiffs left!
Here lie I, [Timon]; who, alive, all living men did hate: 
Pass by, and curse thy fill; but pass and stay not here thy gait


I walk under Blackfriars Bridge, as everyone does, and go my own way home. But the play, and this sombre memory of events some thirty years ago, leave my mind unsettled. We are none of us without impurities; Timon's last words in Act V Scene (i) give us food for thought:



Lips, let sour words go by and language end:
What is amiss plague and infection mend! 
Graves only be men’s works and death their gain! 

Sun, hide thy beams! Timon hath done his reign. [Exit.



Or, more optimistically, as Kent says in "King Lear:"


Fortune, good night. Smile once more. Turn thy wheel. (sleeps)