After going to King's College in the late morning (the main/Temple campus), I had planned on meeting Anthony at Enclave to chat about London-Detroit stuff. Unfortunately he thought I'd show up at 1 pm, and I had understood I should come sometime in the afternoon after 1 pm, so by the time I was ready to go, he had told me it would work out better if I came on Friday for the opening. I was sad it had not worked out, as I have been dying to see this place, but tomorrow is the day =-)
My plan was then to go to the Whitechapel gallery, and afterwards meet Kelly, who was on her way from Cambridge to France, and maybe meet Adam at his shop. This is where not having wifi access made the whole situation complicated. I never heard from Kelly and by the time I heard from Adam, they were already closed. I tried going to as many Starbucks for free wifi as I could, but they are not as ubiquitous once you leave the city center.
So after grabbing a lovely lunch at the cafeteria (lamb), so yummy and affordable, I got on my way to white chapel. I tracked down to Charing Cross through the Strand, and assumed I knew where I was going. I took the District line, which skipped the Aldgate East station for some reason, so I got off at Whitechapel station, which in all honesty I thought it was where the gallery was. When I got off the station, I looked at the map and saw nothing, but assumed the place was right above it, like last time I was there. I was in a completely different world, an area of London that did not look like London much, which was scary and fascinating at the same time.
I decided to walk one direction and went quite a ways until I actually hit a map, and by when I was quite some ways off the gallery (it was then I realized the station skipped is the one I needed to go to). I walked back what seemed like an eternity and feared I was going the wrong way again. Fortunately I saw a starbucks, which was at first an indication of being near "civilization" and also a hotspot. By then I was completely disheveled, my shirt untucked, the coat off, sweating like a pig. The bathroom was gross (how sad, made me think of how McDonald's used to be international safe havens), but I got a bit organized and bought myself a huge latte, and sat down to rest my feet, get the wifi and catch up. I found that the gallery was 500 feet away, but decided to listen to the american tourist for a while. So much for being a flaneur, I think one needs to be young and have the proper shoes, with only cigarettes in their pockets and not a heavy bag.
Eventually I made it to the Whitechapel, and the receptionist, who weighed 5 lbs and did not seem to have the ability to sweat, told me that I could not walk in with my drink, so I asked her if she could hold it for me. She was surprised but said yes. They have a Sarah Lucas retrospective, which I thought was, at best, overwhelming. There were some interesting pieces, many of my favorites of hers, but overall there was so much around with so little labeling (specially in the upper floors), that the whole thing lost its impact on me. I actually began taking pictures (she had a self portrait), but the attendant ran to me telling me I was not allowed and that I could buy a book. She looked at me like I was from out of space, and I looked at her like she had just landed. I apologized and put the camera away, but here are a few of my illegal shots.
Overall I'd say that the first floor was superb, and the second floor was good, but not great. They had three other small exhibitions that seemed somewhat predictable or not well thought out, so I parked my arse in their coffee shop for their free wifi, and organized my next move. By then it was close to 5 pm and I thought I'd not see Kelly or Adam, so I decided to head to Bermondsey to follow Marcelo's suggestion, and send Rosana a couple messages (we arranged to meet after 9 at Liberty). I tracked my way down there and got off London Bridge station, which was near the strip of shops and galleries. The station exited at the Shard, a well-known new building (coincidentally I read something really interesting about it in the free underground paper, which I picked up on my way home, saying that in 100 years it would most likely be torn down, as it will not accrue value).
There was tons of construction around the Shard, so what seemed like a straight line to Bermondsey turned out to be a labyrinthine path that was very dark but quintessentially English, or at least very London (it was very easy to see how Jack the Ripper got away with murder, these tiny streets and alleyways can be so dark and deserted one can easily disappear). I eventually found Bermondsey and walked towards White Cube, which is a private gallery, very much like the super-sized ones in NYC's Chelsea. White Cube actually has galleries in other cities, including São Paulo. The structure was impressive, and the art work was pretty good too, though a bit dry. I do not know the name of the artist because I forgot my notes in my room, but it was a Los Angeles artists, that works with bilboards and posters (I want to say Mark Bradford, and I wonder if he was the guy Joe DeLappe and I had dinner with when he was visiting us in Detroit, the guy was a bit of a loudmouth, kind of annoying), and he showed with another artist, Larry something, and there was a collaborative video piece I believe. Work was interesting but soul-less to me, very international style, as far as how widely consumed it can be (and not the architecture reference, but in a way the grids may support that terminology as well), space was superb, I am glad I got to go, and will add to my repertoire.
I walked around the area for a bit, picked at some galleries which seemed like very much commercial ones without the edge, as you see all over the world, and saw some interesting restaurants, shops, and stuff like that. If I had someone with me I'd walk there for more time, but alone it was cold and boring, so I eventually headed back home. It was then that I realized Adam was available after all, but by then he had already gone home.
Today, as the train sways, I think of my next/last three days in the UK, and hope I get to see everyone I want to.
- posted via iPad
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