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Happy belated 4th of July to everyone back in the States! I had a really fun 4th of July celebration, but in a very English way so I'm not quite sure if it counts. Details of that to come in a few.
I mentioned in my last post that for Reporting the Arts we are assigned to go see two pieces a week and are encouraged to go see additional things on our own. Our first two assigned pieces were to go see a play called That Face, which we attempted to go see one night but had to postpone due to an unknown issue with the London Underground. We picked another night to go and I volunteered to purchase tickets for everyone beforehand. Hayley and I went down to Leicester Square on Wednesday morning and walked over to the box office. Quick fix. We walked around to other places nearby and passed many of the other theaters. There are so many things I want to see while I'm here - Cabaret, Gone With the Wind, We Will Rock You, Billy Elliott. The goal is to not see shows that I could see in New York, so I'm avoiding my
Camden Lock
Runs over the Camden Lock, in Camden Town old favorites and sticking to new things. The problem is that going to the theater is really expensive even before you take the currency exchange into account.
Hayley had to leave for class around midday, so I went to the National Portrait Gallery for the rest of the afternoon. The second piece we had to see this week for Reporting the Arts was an exhibit at the gallery called the BP Portrait Award exhibit. The BP Portrait Award is a very prestigious portrait competition held every year and displayed in the NPG during the summer months. Artists submit their work from all around the world, most of which are unknown artists trying to break through into the world of contemporary portrait painting. This year, roughly 1500 portraits were submitted for judging, and 55 were chosen to be displayed in this exhibit. The paintings were all very intricately done and the details were quite pronounced. The eyebrows on one portrait looked so lifelike that I was tempted to pull out my tweezers and pluck a stray to neaten up her arches. The most moving piece in the exhibit (at least in my opinion) was a self portrait of an old
Tattoo
Would you want to get inked at a place called "Evil from the Needle?" Neither would I... sounds dangerous. man that he did by looking in a mirror. He is shirtless, and staring into the mirror with a blank expression and sunken-in eyes. You can see every bone in his fragile body; he appears skeletal, emaciated. The most haunting thing is his face. He just looks so sad, like he has lived a painful, long life. In reading the caption, it says that the man used to paint portraits of him and his wife by using a large mirror. This portrait was done shortly after her death, and was the first piece that he had painted since she passed. Now that's a tear-jerker if I've ever heard one.
After I looked at the BP exhibit, I looked at the other galleries throughout the museum. There was a gallery of modern photographs in both black-and-white and color, a lot of British celebrities and models were featured in these. Then there were the galleries of British royals: the Tudors, Charles I, Charles II, the Victorian monarchs, and many other old portraits from long ago. Walking through the National Portrait Gallery is really like walking through a giant time line of the British royals and famous icons. There was a portrait
Market
Through an alleyway of the open-air market in Camden. of William Shakespeare in the Tudor wing, right next to a giant portrait of Queen Elizabeth (my favorite Queen from all of history), both done during their lifetime. There was another hall dedicated to the 18th and 19th century Romantic writers: portraits of Mary and Percy Shelley, George Gordon Lord Byron, William Blake, William Wordsworth, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, John Keats. I seriously felt like my life had been rewound to senior year of high school and I was once again sitting in Mr. Hight's AP British Literature class. That feeling only intensified upon seeing portraits of Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters. I've read these works and studied these writers throughout both high school and college, and I've developed a deep appreciation for these fantastic British writers.
I teared up when I came upon a beautiful portrait of Princess Di. I remember her death, but I was too young to really grasp the significance of what she did while she was alive. What does the Princess of Wales have to do with a nine year old American girl? It's only now that I really feel the impact of her passing. Thinking of the work she could have continued to
Amusing
So, it was 3pm and I walked by a frozen yogurt/Hookah bar. I laughed really hard. Those things do not sound good together in the slightest. do had she not been killed is just painstaking. The British are extremely fond of Diana, and her memory will not soon be forgotten in these parts.
So, being in a huge museum filled with nothing but portraits of people staring directly at you as you walk down the hall can get a little creepy after a while. I went through everything in about three hours and then got on the tube to go to an area I kind of chose at random when looking at the tube map. I got on the Northern line and got off at the Camden Town station. Susan had mentioned that Camden Town is a funky, fun place to go see, so I thought it would be worth a visit. I loved Camden Town from the moment I exited the tube. It's like Telegraph in Berkeley, Haight Street in San Francisco, and St. Mark's Place in New York all rolled into one... but adding a bit of English flair to make it a unique part of London. There were piercing shops nestled in between vintage jean stores and American Apparel. An H&M on the corner across from a smoke shop. Vegan bakeries near
Camden Lane
I want the pink one. grimy pubs. Record shops and sunglass stands. Lots of interesting looking music venues, each catering towards a different crowd. Hipsters mixed with punks mixed with euro-trash mixed with Americans in Abercrombie and Fitch. Quite the combination.
Camden Town stretches over a small canal called the Camden Lock, and there is a tiny bridge that goes over the canal. Little fishing boats and willow trees line the canal itself. It was nice to see a small body of water in comparison to the massive River Thames. An outdoor farmers market ran down one of the main streets where all kinds of fresh produce and goods were being sold. A large open air market also weaves itself through some of the alleys and back streets of Camden Town, where merchants sell hand made jewelry, tapestries, tee-shirts, incense, and many other accessories. I walked through the open air market and followed it down near the canal, where I found a vintage boot shop. Yes, vintage boots. A whole shop dedicated to the beauty that is the boot. I tried on the most beautiful pair of boots I'd ever seen... soft, gently used white leather boots that came to my knee but could
Camden Trinity Church
Little local church. Bet it has a fascinating story. be bunched or folded down. Flat heeled, and a bit of point at the toe. I had to verbally remind myself that I don't wear leather, and literally hold the price tag up to my face to visually assure myself that I couldn't afford them (45 quid = 90 dollars = mommy would kill me). I settled for buying my favorite English candy bar instead. 45 pence instead of 45 pounds.
I found a row of colorful houses that lead up to an old church, called Camden Trinity Church. I'll someday settle in the bright pink house along that street. It looked very picturesque, and come on... A PINK HOUSE. Too awesome. I would through the neighborhood in search of a Jewish History Museum that a sign said existed, but the rain drove me back to the tube towards my little flat. I'll be back another day.
Hayley and I ventured back out after dinner to go to Piccadilly Circus. That area is the Times Square of London - very touristy, lots of flashy lights and signs, big named theater shows and huge chain restaurants. I loved Piccadilly Circus the first time I came to London, just like
Times Square used to mesmerize me. Now the only time I ever go to Times Square is when I'm entertaining my friends from out of town, or when I go to the theater. I never hang out there. I realized Piccadilly Circus felt exactly like that to me - a place to see once, but not to go back to unless necessary.
BUT, Piccadilly Circus holds the key to the entrance of the London Chinatown. I could really go for some bubble tea right now. Maybe I'll go back and see Chinatown by day. I wonder how it compares to New York and SF?
I miss Canal Street.
Cheers,
xo Leah
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