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 16th 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)
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
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