Big, Two-Parted Post: Part II

Since this post continues upon an order set out at the beginning of my last post, I am just going to jump right in and begin with my Friday morning of tour of Mansion House. Located near the Bank of England, Mansion House is the official residence and office of the Lord Mayor of London. Originally built in the eighteenth century, today the building’s main use is as a host for the Lord Mayor’s large social events, in addition to including his office and a private apartment. One of the law professors had arranged a tour for the law students and, when not all of then could attend, invited undergraduates to fill the empty spaces. Fortunately, I was near a computer and secured a spot soon after she sent the email invitation.

Before I continue describing the visit, I would like to digress for a short explanation of the geographic and political circumstances that require me to differentiate between the Lord Mayor of the City of London and the Mayor of London. Modern London breaks down into thirty-two different boroughs, each of which equates to either a neighborhood or, in the areas farther from the Thames and on the outskirts of London, a former small village. Islington, for example, is the name of the borough that is home to our flats, and, at one time, it was a separate village to the north and east of a much smaller London. Westminster in the name of the borough that houses such famous sites as the Houses of Parliament and, not surprisingly, Westminster Abbey. The City of London is yet another such borough directly to the east of Westminster; famous landmarks include St. Paul’s Cathedral and the large financial district. Although I say this with only a limited experience in New York City, together, Westminster and The City of London seem to make up the London equivalent of Manhattan, as the two boroughs include many of the famous places at the top of the lists of typically “London” locations in addition to the city’s financial center.

The Lord Mayor of the City of London, then, serves in an appointed position that dates back hundreds of years. He only represents the borough of the City of London. Historically, the position developed as the members of the City’s trade guilds selected a leader from among themselves for a one-year term. Today, the position is largely ceremonial – although he does spend a great deal of time travelling internationally to advance the economic interests of the City of London – and requires a wealthy man, as he must pay for all of the banquets held at Mansion House throughout his one year term at his own expense. In contrast, the Mayor of London is a relatively new position – it has only existed since the year 2000 – that provides a leader across all of the boroughs. A directly elected position, this mayor ranks ahead of the leaders of the boroughs. Mansion house belongs to the Lord Mayor of the City of London.

From the outside, grey stone work and the street side portico with Corinthian columns allow Mansion House to blend in well with the surrounding financial buildings, such as the Bank of England and the Royal Exchange. Although this street side display seems to indicate a main entrance, interior renovations have instead created a guest entrance along the western side of the building. Our group gathered outside of the wooden door marking this entrance. Once most of our group had arrived, one of the law professors excitedly used the real knocker on the door and, surprisingly, the porter soon opened the door to invite us inside.

After a short wait and a late arrival (all of the undergraduates arrived on time) the porter began our tour. We had entered through the entrance used by guests during official functions and, consequently, we saw the small security checkpoint and the large cloakroom, which sits upon visible stones that date to the original construction of the building in an area once used for servant gatherings. The waiting area outside of the cloakroom also included marble busts of a few of the former Mayors.

As we moved up the stairs into the main section of the house, we began to see the opulence of the building. Covering the walls of the staircase were a few of the approximately eighty paintings from their collection of Dutch and Flemish works. Together, the value of the collection is approximately one hundred million pounds. If you would like an estimate for that value in dollars, just multiply by 1.66. I must say, too, that the paintings certainly deserve the value placed upon them. With crisp lines and rich hues of blue and green, the intricate nature scenes have a clean beauty. The paintings appear throughout the house, and most them are either along the entry staircase or in one of the large side drawing rooms.

On our left as we came to the top of the stairs we looked in at an open grand hall with the mayor’s offices one either side and access to the former main entrance on the far end. We stood in an adjoining open hall with a high ceiling overhead. Hanging from the ceiling were enormous crystal chandeliers. Apparently, within England, only the chandeliers in Buckingham Palace eclipse them in scale and grandeur. Imagine an inverted, fully frosted and decorated six-foot wedding cake, but constructed with crystal and hanging from the ceiling.

We continued on through a side room used for smaller gatherings and meetings before walking through a door and entering the enormous Egyptian Room, the grand dining room, which bore no visual reference to its namesake. Columns ran from the floor to the gilded arched ceiling. Stained glass windows marked either end of the massive room. Replicas of the Lord Mayor’s mace and sword hung crossed in front of red velvet over the head table. Golden jugs comparable to the trophies that golfers receive when they win major championships sat spaced along the tables in anticipation of the evening’s banquet.

A final side room featured more of the paintings from the Dutch and Flemish collection in addition to a set of chairs made of a dark wood with red velvet cushions. Distinctive gold lions protruded from the arms of the chairs. Although I forget the number, the whole collection is worth some number of millions of pounds. Red ropes politely discouraged guests from using the chairs, although some, such as Prince Charles, do receive permission to sit in them, but, as the porter indicated, “he’s special.”

The final stop on our tour brought us into the most spectacular room in the entire building: the vault, which contains all of the gold and silver treasures belonging to Mansion House. We first entered the gold room; a smaller, less well-lit room in the back corner held the silver. One case held all of the ceremonial swords that the Lord Mayor uses, such as a black sword, last used for Sir Winston Churchill’s funeral, and a sword with a scabbard covered in pearls. Other cases held the Lord Mayor’s official sword, mace, and chain of S’s, all of which are so old and fragile that they remain in the vault at all times while the Lord Mayor uses replicas. Some cases held gifts from foreign dignitaries, a gilded model of a fort from Saudi Arabia comes to mind, while others held the parting gifts left by departing Lord Mayors in a now defunct tradition.

Friday night brought yet another adventure as I travelled across town with Cat, Hal, and Nick to meet up with Kyla, Lauren, and Michelle for dinner at an Italian restaurant followed by a visit to the Victoria and Albert Museum. Surprisingly, the evening included my first ride on the Tube, which, overall, was not much of an adventure. Not surprisingly, all of the basic elements of using a subway system – scanning your payment card, standing on the right on the escalator, and making sure that you get on a train going in the correct direction on the right line – are exactly the same as the other subway that I have experience with, the Washington, D.C. Metro. At the same time, though, unlike the Metro – which is clearly a centrally planned system implemented over a short period of time that emphasizes an open feeling in stations and ease of use by inexperienced tourists – the Tube is clearly a conglomeration of lines built separately to the point that today they create a complex system that, while fitting for a sprawling city like London, can seem daunting to a first time rider. Once you get used to reading the markings regarding train direction, though, it’s really very easy.

Unfortunately, I do not remember the name of the restaurant where we ate, so I will just quickly say that it was Italian, near Hyde Park, and enjoyable but, clearly, not instantly memorable. Immediately after dinner we walked over to the museum. The Victoria and Albert Museum (V & A) dates to an exhibition during the middle of the nineteenth century that led the government to begin the collections and, ultimately, build the museum building. Inside, the museum’s collection feature decorative art – such as statues, furniture, and clothing, among other objects – from throughout the world dating back thousands of years, although most of the works date to the past thousand years. Also notable is a grand courtyard, which includes a small wading pool, in the middle of the building. At night, lights illuminate the carved parapets on the top of the walls that tower over the four sides of the enclosure.

Following the night out on Friday, Saturday morning began with a race. Michelle, Cat, Hal, Nick and I had decided to make a day trip down to Arundel, a small town about an hour and a half southwest of London by train, at the recommendation of both of the program’s rectors. However, since I am attempting to live on a budget and I do not mind walking long distances, I decided to walk to Victoria Station instead of taking an early bus with the others. I walked out of the flats at 8:07, eight minutes before the others had planned to meet, and arrived at Victoria station approximately forty-five minutes later, giving me a per mile pace of 14:31, meaning that I walked at about half the pace that could run the same distance. By the time that the others arrived, I had already figured out which train we needed to catch, which platform it was on, and which cars we needed to be in.

As it is farther from London than Windsor, Arundel offers much more a small town experience than the town that we visited the weekend before. From the train station just outside of town, you can see the massive castle complex and the Catholic cathedral that crown the hill at the center of the city. We joked about how, from so far away, it looked like it was “only a model”. Up close, though, it dominates the skyline.

"It's only a model..."

Arundel Castle from the town

Before making our way of the hill, though, we stopped for an early lunch at a place called Belinda’s 16^th Century Restaurant. When we arrived just before noon, they were just beginning to serve lunch. I ordered a red pepper and lentil soup that came with a hearty piece of warm bread, exactly the type of fulfilling meal that I was looking for. The restaurant was in the lower level of an old building and felt like a large coffee shop; based on the breakfast dishes at many of the tables, it seemed like a good place to stop for tea. After lunch, Cat, Michelle, and Nick went in search of dessert while Hal went to purchase a gift for his parents. I met up with Hal when he was done. During the confusing process of finding the others, Hal and I bought dessert of our own before reconvening with the rest of out friends at the top of the hill, where a very nice tourist kindly took a poorly framed, overexposed picture of our group in front of the castle.

Just up the road from the castle, we stopped in an old monastery church and courtyard before going into Arundel Cathedral. At first, the building seemed like it could date back to the years before the reformation, a surprise, since the government took possession of all Church lands at that time. As it turns out, although the building appears old from the outside – with all of the buttresses and stonework of a Gothic cathedral – it only dates to the middle of the nineteenth century. When first built, it merely served as a grand church for the area, only to receive the designation of cathedral as the diocese expanded years later.

After exploring the interior of the cathedral, we stopped at a pub across the street called the St. Mary’s Gate Inn for a pint in their courtyard on a beautiful afternoon. A sign on the building says that it was first built as a farm dwelling in 1525, but the interior of the pub did not show it, suggesting a recent renovation. I ordered a relatively hoppy beer and, in the process, learned that do not particularly enjoy hop-based beer compared to others that I have tried.

We all split up for the last hour or so before meeting our train. I began by continuing on a path along the road past the cathedral, but it quickly led out of town, so I turned around. Across the road from the cathedral, I entered a massive park directly north of the castle. At first, the path led along a wall and through a small thicket of trees. The tree line opened onto a vast field with rolling green hills and periodic thick bunches of trees. It looked exactly like the stereotypical idea of the English countryside as seen from the top of a hill.

Adding to the striking beauty of the scene was a lonely stone tower standing in the center of the nearest field. Although the stonework and decorations compared to the windows and arrow slits seen on any castle, its small size – just three circular, two-story towers arranged in a triangle and connected by walls of a similar heights – suggested that it may have been a guard tower related to the nearby castle. Stumbling upon such a unique structure located on an idyllic hill in the middle of an expansive countryside while wandering alone through a town that is approximately twice as old as my home country seemed to encapsulate many of the major aspects of the study abroad experience. Surprisingly, I was the only one in the area. Besides a few people who looked like local residents walking on the path through the park, I did not see anyone else nearby, and nobody else even stepped off of the path for a closer look, as I did.

Hiorne Tower

(I am particularly proud of this picture)

Research after the trip turned up very little information about the tower. Its name is Hiorne Tower after the architect who designed it an oversaw its construction during the eighteenth century, making it much younger than the nearby castle. Apparently, Hiorne built the tower in order to convince the Duke of Norfolk, the owner of the castle, to allow him to undertake extensive renovations in a similar style on the castle. However, Hiorne died before he could begin work on the castle itself and only completed the tower in the area.

We regrouped in town and walked back to the train station to return to London. At Victoria Station, we took a bus back to the flats (I had proven my point in the morning and did not feel the need to walk). We regrouped for dinner with Kyla and Lauren, who had spent the day at Oxford, as well as Nick Brandt, and I made a pasta with chicken, vegetables, and peanut butter sauce, which turned out alright, although I think that I both burned and made too much of the sauce, which seemed to overpower the vegetables. After dinner, we stayed in the flats for a night of thoroughly enjoyable conversation, including a long stretch with one of our rectors, Ric, when he stopped by during rounds.

On Sunday morning, I slept in and went to the noon mass at St. Anselm’s Parish near Covent Garden, where I ended up running into Nick Brandt. Apparently, St. Anselm’s noon mass is a sung Latin mass, although it did not have the grandeur of Westminster Cathedral’s choral Latin mass. Unfortunately, I quickly disengaged from the chant heavy mass. A couple of times during mass, I realized that the chants in an old and foreign language reminded me of the brief videos that I have seen of the call to prayer and of Arabic prayer services in Islam. On the one hand, this gave me a new perspective on the argument that the changes to the mass since Vatican II have disconnected the mass from its longstanding traditional roots. However, raised on a mass that allows me to understand the significance of the traditions in my own language, I now have a greater appreciation for that fact, a particularly relevant issue in light of the upcoming implementation of the new translation of the missal. Seeing the continuing popularity of the Latin mass here – most churches here seem to offer one every Sunday – also allows me understand articles such as the one that I saw in the news this week, which suggested that the Catholic church in England does not expect the same opposition to the new translation that is budding in American and Ireland.

Thank you for allowing me that short editorial. I will make a greater effort to avoid those in the future. On the way back from church, we walked past the Knights Templar Pub, where we saw their Valentines Day meal deal of two steaks and a bottle of wine for only sixteen pounds, so Nick arranged for a large group of people to go to take advantage of the deal on Monday night. About a dozen of us ended up going.

Tuesday night brought my theater class to the National Theatre for the second consecutive week. We began with a tour of the building, which, for the most part, consisted of seeing the three theaters and included only minimal backstage exploration beyond that. However, we did learn about some of the fly, platform, and lift systems that they use, allowing them to run up to three shows at once in each of their two largest venues.

After the tour, we saw Greenland in the proscenium theater. A new play, it focused on issues related to climate change by intertwining a series of stories confronting the issue in the modern world. The show’s production values were excellent, with spectacular visual effects – including the use of digital projections on the back wall – and strong acting from the ensemble cast. Unfortunately, the show suffered from poor writing. While it confronted its blunt issue – global warming is bad – very well, it lacked subtlety and did not go far enough into depth with the story lines. As a result, it has received very poor reviews, and the theater was only about half full.

Now that I have finally made it through all of the events that I mentioned at the beginning of my last post, I will conclude with the events of the day that passed while finishing this one.

Before going to the National Theatre on Tuesday, Michelle, Hal, Nick, and I stopped at the Royal Festival Hall next door, where we purchased tickets for the Wednesday night performance by the London Philharmonic Orchestra. To our surprise, we learned that they sell students tickets for only four pounds, practically a steal.

Wednesday night marked my first time seeing a professional orchestra, and it was a phenomenal experience. The concert hall in the Royal Festival Hall is an enormous, wide-open room with two tiers of stadium seating on the first level in addition to a balcony above the second tier. Boxes seats on the sides take the form of rectangles pulled diagonally out of the sidewalls. A distinctive royal box, marked by a woodcutting of the royal emblem, sits among the boxes on the right wall. Our seats were in the second row of the second tier on the lower level.

All of the musicians, particularly the strings, possessed a subtlety of technique that they demonstrated through sudden, drastic changes in dynamics and through imperceptible entrances. Visually, too, the orchestra provided a stunning show, since all of the string players must move their bows in time with the music, creating the effect of a living, breathing music creation system. The evening’s repertoire featured three pieces by French composers, Ravel’s Mother Goose Suite and Berlioz’s La Morte de Cléopatra before the break and his Symphonie fantastique after. Ravel started the evening on a high note, no pun intended, but the highlight of the evening was certainly Symphonie fantastique at the end, particularly the fourth and fifth movements, which featured the strongest brass of the evening and ultimately concluded with an explosion of sound matched visually as the strings thrust their bows into the air to send the final note echoing in the chamber.

Well, it has taken me 5500 words spread across two posts, but you are finally caught up on everything – literally, everything – that I have been up to for the past week and a half. I commend those of you who make it through these posts despite my disorganization and my digressions. As I have said before, my goal is to create a thorough record of my semester, and I appreciate hearing from those of you who enjoy sharing in my experience.

I have a couple of busy weeks of class coming up, so I do not know when I will be able to post again. Perhaps it will force me to keep my next couple of posts shorter.

Until then,

Joel

Big, Two-Parted Post: Part I

It has been ten days since I last published a post, so please allow me to apologize for exceeding my target of no more than seven days between posts. However, in those ten days, I have watched parts of the Superbowl on British Television; taken a class trip to the Bank of England Museum; attended Frankenstein, one of the hottest tickets of the year thus far, at the National Theatre; visited another popular nearby pub, The Dovetail; written a paper for Philosophy of Law (spending time on papers also leaves me less time for writing blog posts…); toured Mansion House, the formal home of the Lord Mayor of the City of London; gone to see the Victoria and Albert Museum; travelled for an afternoon to the small town of Arundel; experimented cooking a new recipe for friends; attended yet another mass in Latin; celebrated Valentines Day with a large group of other single people; and returned to the National Theatre for a guided tour and to see Greenland, one of the least popular tickets among their current offerings. Yes, I did just use semicolons as “super commas” to write a sentence the length of a short paragraph. In fact, at 124 149 words (I thought of more things to write about), that may be the longest sentence that I have ever written.

Before I proceed chronologically through the ten days since the Superbowl, though, I would like to address three points of business. First, in my previous post, I neglected to give credit to Cat Samson, who made a comment that I turned into the title of that post. Second, I would like to apologize for the poor writing quality of the preceding post. Upon rereading the post, I discovered a particularly high number of egregious errors, so I will be sure to put more thought and consideration into this post in light of that rushed, poorly written one.

Finally, I would like to describe an additional adventure that I should have included in the preceding post, my trip to St. Paul’s Cathedral for Evensong on the Friday before the Superbowl. Evensong is a part of the daily cycle of prayers in the Anglican Church and celebrates the incarnation of Christ with, not surprisingly, a heavy emphasis on the use of song. The service included scriptural readings but did not incorporate any type of Eucharist/communion service, as, I gather, is common for prayer service in the Anglican Church.

Late on Friday afternoon, after spending the first part of the day continuing my research at the British Library, I joined Hal, David, Cat, Kyla, Lauren, and Nick for the service, as they had made plans to go because of David’s visit. St. Paul’s Cathedral sits upon the highest point in the City of London and is only about a mile south of the flats, so I had already grown accustomed to seeing its dirty, faded blue dome and its two prominent western bell towers rising above the rest of the city’s skyline since, by law, surrounding buildings must be short enough that the cathedral remains visible throughout much of London. Up close, the enormous white marble and blue roof cuts an imposing figure, rising to 365 feet at the top of the dome, 60 feet above the 305 feet of the dome of the similarly prominent Cathedral of Saint Paul in Minnesota and nearly twice the 187 feet of the Golden Dome (including Mary) on Notre Dame’s campus.

The splendor of the interior lives up to the prominence of the exterior, with massive columns running along the sides of the main length of the cathedral up to the dome, where the wings branch out to the left and right before continuing on to the altar and choir area. After the first altar, an ornately carved wooden structure provides seats for the choir, matching the intricate woodcarving boarder inset in the stone around the altar area. Marble Corinthian columns align on either side of the altar leading from the dome to the back of the altar. Decorative gold appears throughout the building.

We arrived early for the service and took our seats near the front, underneath the dome. However, just after we sat down, the cathedral staff invited all of the early attendees to sit in the extra spaces in the choir seating – which consisted of two sets of four rows of benches facing each other in a style similar to the seating in the houses of Parliament – behind the altar.

The service began with a procession, the choir entering simultaneously with the robed religious personal. Unfamiliar with the garments of the Anglican Church, I could not distinguish between priests, committed religious, and lay participants. Like the choir at Westminster Cathedral, the choir included only males, with boys singing the soprano and alto parts. Although unusual, the boys are certainly well trained and excellent singers; I do not recall noticing a shrill note. As I mentioned above, the majority of the service, beyond the scripture readings, consisted of sung prayers celebrating the Incarnation of Christ.

Overall, though not something that I would attend regularly, I enjoyed the service and the approach of prayer through beautiful music. This visit also served as my first experience with an Anglican church. Many of the prayers felt like cousins to prayers that I am familiar with, but in an older English and, at times, with references to the queen.

Thank you for allowing me that long, but, in my opinion, important, digression. I will now return to chronologically discussing events that have occurred since I wrote my last post.

Immediately after I posted my last entry, I went out to watch the Superbowl. Initially, I planned to go down to a pub at the intersection of Fleet Street and Farringdon Road called The Albion, but, when I learned that they were charging a five pound cover for the night, I decided against it. Instead, I went up to the Exmouth Arms – an intimate pub just up the street from the flats in Exmouth Market – when one of my flat-mates called to tell me that they were not charging a cover. When I arrived, I found only my flat-mate, four other Notre Dame students, the proprietor, and two other customers. Apparently, the proprietor had expected far more students to come for the game than ultimately arrived. Making matters more awkward, the four other guys all left before the end of the first quarter. Although I enjoyed the conversation with one of the local customers, my flat-mate and I left during the second quarter to avoid keeping the disappointed proprietor open unnecessarily late.

Not surprisingly, television coverage of the game in Britain does not compare to the hype surrounding coverage of the game in the United States. Although the BBC showed the game and the halftime show, instead of showing the commercials that are half the fun of watching the game live, they showed a sports correspondent speaking with the former American football players that they hired for the evening to explain the game to a market the does not understand it. There were so few commercials that I certainly got the impression that advertisers recognized that nobody was really watching the game, anyways.

As I often do, I slept in on Monday. In the afternoon, I met my Economics class outside of the Bank Underground Station for our class trip to the Bank of England Museum across the street. Not surprisingly, the majority of the displays in the museum consisted of historical artifacts, including objects from the bank’s early days and preserved bank notes dating to the bank’s first use of paper currency. The most exciting display in the museum, though, consisted of a gold bar chained to an open case, allowing visitors to touch and lift the very dense and, consequently, heavy bar. Our visit concluded with a short lecture from a member of the museum staff regarding the history and functions of the bank. After finishing at the bank, I stopped at a pub with a couple of friends who had not yet stopped at a pub after class. I finally tried London Pride, a darker red ale, and enjoyed it, finding it bitter, but not overly heavy.

Tuesday night brought yet another visit to a theater performance, this time at the National Theatre to see Frankenstein. Although I will describe it in more detail when I discuss my tour of the building, the National Theatre building includes three theaters – an amphitheater, a proscenium arch, and a black box – and, on the outside, looks like an enormous Frank Lloyd Wright house constructed entirely out of concrete. Frankenstein is currently one of the most anticipated plays in London. Directed by Danny Boyle, director of Slumdog Millionaire, the play provides a theatrical version of Mary Shelley’s novel rather than a theatrical version of the cliché Frankenstein of film. Already sold out through its entire run, the show is still in its preview stage, and we saw approximately the fourth of fifth public performance.

Unique to this production is a daily change in casting; the actors portraying Victor Frankenstein and the Creature play each role on alternate days. As a result, the play relies heavily upon these two actors, ultimately reaching a point where the other characters seem underdeveloped in comparison. In particular, the show focuses on the Creature, introducing his character to open the play and seemingly encouraging sympathy towards him for much of the show.

Unfortunately, beyond the excellent performance of the creature and the very good performance of Frankenstein, a variety of issues hobbled the production. The focus on the Creature at the beginning of the show led to rushed expositions surrounding the other main characters, including Frankenstein, later in the plot than usual. Also, although the production included spectacular sets, the extravagance of some of them seemed to distract from the story, an issue that may stem from Danny Boyle’s experience as a film, rather than theater, director. Overall, the production seemed to fall short of its high potential for excellence in a number of categories.

My remaining weeknights were relatively quiet and, for the most part, consisted of evenings spent working on Philosophy of Law Paper. However, I did venture out on Wednesday evening to go to a popular nearby pub called The Dovetail. The Dovetail’s appeal lies in variety, as it imports a wide selection of Belgian Beers. While many of my friends tried their strawberry beer, I went with one of their wheat beers. It had some type of strange seasoning – I think that the menu may have said coriander? – that gave an usual taste to the light wheat flavor. If I can remember its name when I go there in the future, I do not think that I will order it again.

I have written enough papers late at night that I can tell that I have reached the point where the quality of my writings decreases with each passing minute, so I will have to finish this post at a later date, perhaps on Wednesday afternoon between class and seeing the London Philharmonic perform (students tickets were only four pounds!).

Until then,

Joel

Tomorrow's Monday, Which Means It's Almost the Weekend

Believe it or not, I had a relatively quiet day this week, and, even on that day, Thursday, I spent the whole afternoon exploring the city. I think that I’ve said it before and to anybody who has asked, but the adventures literally never stop here. It’s almost like constantly being on vacation, but with classes that we attend a few days a week.

After a night out at the theater for class on Tuesday, it really did feel like the weekend for the rest of the week, so, in keeping with the midweek weekend theme, Cat, Nick, Kyla, and I went to see The Lion King on Wednesday night. The theater offered a student discount, so we paid for their least expensive ticket and, in return, received seats valued at three times that price in the first balcony. Overall, it was an entertaining show, but the performance felt stale and failed to live up to much of the hype that has surrounded the show for the past fifteen years. Although the opening sequence to “The Circle of Life” certainly showcased the production’s legendary costumes and stage settings – this production, unlike the touring productions, included a pride-rock staircase that twisted up and down in and out of the stage – even the opening spectacle, in a twist of irony, lacked life and vibrancy, an issue that plagued much of the first act. We attributed some of these issues to the actor playing the young Simba – a fourth understudy, we assumed that he worked the weeknight shows so that the best actor could save his limited weekly hours for the sell-out weekend shows – but, as I said, the entire cast seemed to play the roles without very much depth.

Fortunately, the second portion of the show revived much of our interest, thanks in large part to the actor and actress playing the older versions of Simba and Nala, respectively. The two carried the show much better than any of the characters in the first portion did, and they used their complex costumes to enhance their roles, rather than hiding behind them or simply using them to go through the motions. This increase in the caliber of acting combined with stronger instrumental music in the second portion of the show to go a long way towards redeeming this production of the show.

As usual, Thursday brought Global London far to early in the morning. After class, I decided to take advantage of the sunny, warm afternoon and go walking in the city. I repeated much of the walk along the east end of the Thames from last week, but this time it was sunny and not bitterly cold. I crossed Millennium Bridge and walked all the way down to Tower Bridge along the southern bank of the river. Instead of turning back, I crossed Tower Bridge and walked over to the Tower of London complex. Although the castle itself charges admission and had already closed for the day, I did see the plaza area and the exterior of the tower. On my way back to the flats, I walked a few blocks north of the river into the City’s banking district and found the square near the Bank of England, Lloyds of London, and the Royal Exchange. Tomorrow, I will be meeting my economics class there for our tour of the Bank of England.

St. Paul's Cathedral from Millennium Bridge

In the evening, I booked and flight and hostel for a trip to Poland in April. At this point, I will be travelling to Milan, Cinque Terre, Florence, Berlin, and Dublin for spring break; to Krakow in Poland in early April; to Edinburgh, potentially, the week before Easter; and to Rome for Easter. Although a light schedule by the standards of many students in the London Program, it is nevertheless a full schedule with many exciting opportunities that will take me into or through five different countries in Europe outside of the UK.

Friday afternoon brought another session at the British Library after I worked on a job application in the morning. In the evening, then, I went to Chinatown for dinner with Hal, Michelle, Cat, and David Bratton, who spent the weekend visiting London from his program in Toledo, Spain. Strings of lanterns covered the streets in preparation for this weekend’s Chinese New Year celebrations. We stopped at The Friendly Inn and, fortunately, found an open table on a busy Friday night. Since all of the chicken dishes were less expensive than all of the dishes involving other meats, we shared four different iterations of chicken at our table.

In order to introduce David to a true London pub, we went over to Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese after dinner, where we met Lauren, Nick, and Kyla. We crammed into a booth on their first basement level and stayed for a drink before moving on to another pub just down the road from our flats. We stopped for a drink and were enjoying the lively yet very comfortable environment until we decided to leave, when we realized that, unfortunately, a pickpocket had stolen the cash from a member of our group, casting a shadow over an otherwise enjoyable evening.

Early on Saturday morning, I met Hal, Nick, David, and Kyla in the courtyard to walk all of the way across town to catch a train out to Windsor, where we visited Windsor Castle. Dating to the time of William the Conqueror, a number of English monarchs over the centuries constructed first defensive fortifications and later lavish palaces within the walls of the castle, often using vast sums of resources to do so. Today, Queen Elizabeth II still uses the palace, which has housed occupants for a longer period of time than any other in Europe.

The Round Tower at Windsor Castle

From the train station, we easily spotted the castle at the top of a large hill to our left. A couple of blocks from the station, we picked up a long path that wound up and around the side of the hill to the entrance of the castle. After we paid for our admission – which, thanks to validation, is now good for a whole year – we entered the castle walls and joined a free tour. Our guide showed us around the exterior areas and gave us historical information about the architectural decisions made by kings and queens throughout history. He left us at the entrance to the interior of the palace, where we saw Queen Mary’s Doll House, the entry chambers, the hall of the Order of the Garter, many of the private rooms used by monarchs of the past, and a portion of the residence used regularly by the Queen to this day. All of the rooms featured some combination of intricate woodcarvings, gold plating, massive original works of art, and heaps of historical artifacts used by monarchs throughout history. Historical artifacts from eight hundred years worth of powerful monarchs combine to create a beautiful collection and a very impressive display. I highly recommend a visit to the castle for those visiting London with any interest in history, particularly the history of Britain.

Our Group at Windsor Castle

From Left to Right:

Kyla, Hal, David, Nick, and Me

We followed up our day of travel with a quiet evening of dinner and a movie in the flats. I made Mexican Lasagna, with turned out alright, even with white instead of yellow cheddar cheese.

This morning, we went to Saints Peter and Paul Church near the flats for a quick mass. In the afternoon, Lauren and I went down to check out the New Years Celebrations in Chinatown. We hoped to find friends, but the crowd was large and we just went through Trafalgar and Chinatown on our own.

Me in Chinatown

During the Chinese New Year Celebration

Well, I am heading out for the evening to find a pub showing the Superbowl. I hope that I did justice to my week, particularly the impressive Windsor Castle, and I look forward to sharing more soon.


Until then,

Joel

Twenty-First Birthday Weekend

It has been almost a week since my last post, so I’m sorry that I am not sticking to the pace the I promised, but I do have a full weekend’s worth of stories to share, so I’m going to dive right in.

Relative to Monday and Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday were relatively quiet. Highlights included cooking Stuffed Green Peppers and Teriyaki chicken on consecutive nights and general relaxation in the city.

Friday morning brought my first day of work researching in the British Library. After waking up at a reasonable hour, I walked the half-mile north to the library. Inside the library building, I went downstairs to their locker room, where I dropped off my coat and bag, as these are not allowed inside of the readings rooms. They provide large, clear plastic bags (so that you can’t sneak any books out), so I put my notebook, computer, and pencil (they don’t allow pens) into the bag and went upstairs to the reading. It is a relatively recent building, so all of the stairs are not in the same area and I had to wander to the back of the building and through the cafeteria.

Finally, though, I found the Humanities Reading Room. I entered through large wooden doors and showed my reader pass to the security guards inside. The reading room itself is a large, open room with green carpet, light wood, and relatively dim lights, as the majority of the light comes from the opaque skylight and the lamps on the individual work desks. A large collection of leather-bound books sits on bookshelves that ring the room. Long rows of individual desks run along the floor.

I went to the main desk to pick up my book, but they told me to first find a desk, as they require the number on your desk for their records when they give you your books. After finding a desk, I returned and acquired my book, a general reference book about expatriate modernism and Hemingway, and spent the next couple of hours going through the book as one normally does when doing research.

When done working for the day, I returned to the flats for a quiet afternoon and then went out to dinner with some friends. We went to the Lucas Arms, a pub just north and west of the flats. Conveniently, I had seen it on my way up to the library earlier in the day. It was a nice pub with plenty of tables for a meal, which can be difficult to find. Their prices were pretty reasonable, although not as good as some of the burger and a beer deals that I have seen advertised. The pub was big, two rooms, and a bit more commercial than some others, but it was a good fit dinner on a Friday night.

After dinner, we went back to the flats, and a few of us decided that it would be a beautiful, frigid January night for a walk down by the river. We walked down Farringdon and turned at Queen Victoria Street unsure of where to cross the river. At the City of London School, we walked past the very modern Salvation Army building and saw what we quickly realized was the Millennium Bridge. To confirm the identity of this bridge, I turned around and, sure enough, saw the massive dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral behind me. As we crossed the bridge, we took a few pictures of the river Thames and the Cathedral; I won’t post any, though, because they didn’t really turn out.

On the other side of the river, we walked from the Tate Modern museum east toward Tower Bridge. There are many winding street and paths along the river, so we followed these, always staying within about a block of the water. We saw a number of nice, large pubs that looked fairly expensive. At London Bridge – the replacement, not the one that is now the second largest tourist attraction in Arizona, after the Grand Canyon – we found restaurants built into the arches of the bridge over the land, a creative idea that added to the liveliness of the riverfront area.

Continuing on, we made it as far as the ultra-modern London city hall, a steel and glass complex of three or four buildings, the main building of which looks like a narrow AT&T logo that leans to one side. From the city hall plaza, which sits directly across the river from the Tower of London fort, we took our closest pictures of the night of Tower Bridge, perhaps the most internationally recognizable of London’s many bridges.

Tower Bridge at Night

Quite cold following our brilliant decision to repeatedly take our gloves off to take pictures in the freezing air, we stopped at Horniman at Hay’s, a pub just up the river from the City Hall plaza, to warm up and have a drink before continuing on for the evening. Perhaps a bit touristy, due to its location, it was full of people on a Friday night. There was a high ceiling over the bar area, and a second level above the seating area. The dark wood combined with the detailed molding to give the pub an old feel, and perhaps the building is old, but the pub seemed relatively new. After buying our drinks, we just stood in the bar area, as there was no room at any of the tables. Sufficiently warmed after a short stay, we returned to the flats, this time walking on the north side of the river.

On Saturday morning, I slept in before going to the British Museum with Hal, Tim, and Kyla in the afternoon. A surprisingly short distance from our flats, the museum is a massive, rectangular stone complex with a large central courtyard. Since 2000, a steel and glass roof, which seems to emanate from the former British Library circular reading room, has covered the courtyard.

The Enclosed Courtyard of The British Museum

I will avoid editorializing in either direction about the legal status or imperialistic nature of much of the collection – the Elgin marbles, among the more contentions pieces in the museum, seem to account for more of the Parthenon artwork than the collections in Athens – and instead say that the museum houses an impressive collection of artifacts from throughout human history. On Saturday, I saw collections from ancient Egyptian, Assyrian, Phoenician, Greek, Roman, and European culture, and I didn’t even make it to the African and Asian collections (yet). Each collection consists of a series of large rooms holding glass cases or open-air pedestals holding artifacts.

In particular, I appreciated the organization of the museum, which grouped the artifacts first by culture or geographic location and then by time period and the simply displayed the artifacts in the appropriately labeled room, very much like an art museum. The Museum of American History could learn a very good lesson from the British Museum, as I found the approach of simply displaying artifacts by time and place vastly superior to the more difficult to navigate exhibits approach that perhaps group the items by type, such as first lady inaugural dresses, and limits the available artifacts to those that fit the current exhibits. This open display approach is far more conducive to exploring and absorbing the history.

Also notable is their “A History of the World in 100 Objects” program, which has labeled one hundred objects throughout the museum as particularly representative of moments in history. You can see a banner advertising this program in on the right side of the picture of the courtyard above. I saw a few of these objects, such as the Rosetta Stone, on Saturday, and my goal is to see all one hundred of them while I am here.

Following our busy afternoon exploring the museum, we went out on Saturday night to attempt to purchase rush tickets for The Lion King, but the show was sold out, and we quickly discovered that every other show that we could agree on having any interest in seeing had also sold out for the night. Not allowing us from enjoying an evening out, though, we stopped at the Hercules Pillars pub just north of Covent Garden on Great Queen Street. Like most pubs, it had dark wood and low lighting with relatively comfortable seating. A band was playing in the basement, but we stayed upstairs to talk and hang out. Interestingly, I discovered that their scotch whiskey was cheaper than the average pint of beer, three pounds, so I tried both J&B and Glenfiddich, the later of which had a very strong, immediate taste.

Sunday morning, I ventured across town to Westminster Cathedral, a Roman Catholic Cathedral that is a distinct entity from the Anglican Westminster Abbey, with Hal and Nick. The second Catholic Church built in England after the nineteenth century lifting of the ban on Catholicism, it is approximately one hundred years hold, with exterior architecture that combines a Byzantine, hierarchical domed feel with Victorian era architecture, in particular reminding me of the Victorian era hotel between King’s Cross Station and the British Library. On the inside, the floors are wooden, and the usual gold and marble decorations cover the first fifteen feet of wall space. Above that line, though, the cathedral feels unfinished, with a black brick ceiling and glass, not stained glass, on the windows. I suspect, although this merely conjecture, that they ran out of money before finishing the decorations, but, as I said, that is only a guess. The inside was also very cold, and I did not see any vents in the floor, suggesting that the church just barely predates such conveniences as interior heating.

As it happened, the 10:30 mass on Sunday mornings is their solemn mass, meaning that the cathedral’s, apparently, famous choir performed Latin chants of most of the prayers and mass parts. Only the priest’s welcome, the readings, the Gospel, the homily, a portion of the Eucharistic prayer, and the closing prayer, were in English. Just about everything else consisted of Latin chant, which, to the choir’s credit, was an excellent performance featuring very complex phrasing and harmony. That being said, as good as the music was, it also convinced me yet again that the Second Vatican Council was an excellent progressive moment for the Church. Having now listened through a mass mostly in Latin, particularly following a lifetime of experience with more engaging masses, I feel as though the Church would be having even greater issues maintaining interest and attendance.

After mass, I split off from Hal and Nick to return to the flats and, on my way, started another project: my own personal Big Mac Index. For those of you who don’t know, the magazine The Economist periodically releases a list of the relative prices of Big Macs across the world, providing a very simplified sense of current Purchasing Power Parity. They use the Big Mac because it is a good that the international company McDonalds produces fairly consistently throughout the world. Technically, this relates to exchange rates and should only vary with currency, but, even in the Euro Zone, I hope to make these observations in each country that I visit to develop my list of purchasing power parity data over the course of the semester. In this case, a Big Mac cost 2.49 pounds, which, on the day of the purchase, converts to $3.94. That doesn’t mean very much yet, as I have nothing to compare it to, but, hopefully, that will change as the semester continues.

I spent the remainder of Sunday afternoon and evening putting together my first research report for my independent study while anxiously awaiting…my 21^st birthday!

However, as you may have noticed, that is a fairly anticlimactic birthday here in Britain, as I have been drinking legally here since the weekend that we arrived. As a result, there was no typical American rush to go out for the stroke of midnight. After a typical day of class, though, I joined some friends in Kamen House for an excellent taco dinner before we went out to Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese. We enjoyed the pub so much last time that I thought it would be a good place to go to celebrate. I did not mention after our last trip that, instead of serving brand name alcohol, they serve traditionally crafted versions, enhancing the old fashioned feel. As a result, their beer does not have a specific or defining taste, but instead tastes very much like…beer, just good, standard beer. Similarly, I also tried their blended scotch whiskey, and I found it much smoother with less of a wood taste than the two that I tried on Saturday, although it had an unusual bite as it hit the tongue. Also surprising, the scotch was, once again, cheaper than the beer. This is quickly becoming one my favorite pubs.

Me Outside of Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese

A Sign Listing All of the Ruling Monarchs

Since the Rebuilding of the Pub...in 1667

When I returned to my room, I found my flat mates hanging out with some friends before heading out for the evening, so I joined the group in the kitchen and they invited me to come along. They had heard about a bowling place nearly Piccadilly Circus with Monday night specials, so I joined the group for the adventure. At the bowling alley, which also included a large arcade, we bought the student special, which included a round of bowling and a round of bumper cars. A couple of friends offered to buy me a drink for my birthday, and the bartender poured me a very generous Jameson to close the night as bowling got underway. Surprisingly, I bowled well, with the exception of the eighth frame, and finished with strikes in the ninth and tenths frames followed by a spare on the two extra balls at the end for a 128, possibly my best bowling score ever. I’m already looking forward to golf.

Following a thoroughly enjoyable 21^st birthday, my Tuesday included another evening of adventure. Our theater class play was attending a play in Richmond, which is twenty-five minutes from London by train. A few of us went into town early with our professor right after class. He showed us around town and then brought us to a pub that, though once very traditional, now sported a semi-Russian theme, including a sign advertising “Vodka and Food” out front. Fortunately, Tuesday night is their two for one night on pizza and they had a happy hour on draft beers until seven, so we had a very economical meal which became even more economical when our professor very generously paid for the food for our small group.

After dinner, the group split up for the hour until the show, and Michelle and I wandered the city. At some point, we took a wrong turn and walked a few blocks out of our way, but, fortunately, we managed to find our way back to the theater for show time. Entering The Orange Tree Theatre felt like walking into a house. We climbed a short set of stairs to the entrance and walked through the small, carpeted bar area into the theater. Very small and intimate, this theater in the round stage included only two rows of seats on all four sides and an additional balcony level with two more rows on each side.

The play, Once Bitten, is a recent translation by Reggie Oliver – a friend of our professor who spoke to us in class before we attended the performance – of a classic French farce about…well, the usual subjects of a farce: adultery and mistaken identity. With a phenomenally complex and well-layered plot, the play was absolutely hilarious. Adding to our experience were our front row seats, meaning that, because of the setup of the theatre, I could not stretch my legs out for fear of tripping the actors. Sitting so close, they easily interacted with us through eye contact and gestures throughout the performance. Overall, it was a thoroughly enjoyable evening and a hilarious show.

Well, at nearly twenty-eight hundred words, this post eclipses my last post by over eight hundred words. I congratulate those of you who have made it all the way through. I am also within one hundred words of ten thousand total words for all of the posts combined. That one fifth of a novel!

I am sorry for not posting more often, but Tuesday night was, once again, the best night for me to spend time writing this week. I hope that you enjoy the post and pictures, and I look forward to sharing more with you in the coming weeks.

Until next time,

Joel