It's where oxen ford the river

I’ll go ahead and dispense with the pleasantries of apologizing for not updating this blog very frequently. We can go ahead and take that as given, I suppose.

In truth, I didn’t have too much to write about for about a week and a half after the last post, and that’s in part because I was catching up a bit on reading and work that I hadn’t been doing the previous couple weeks. So, that was the story from about the 13^th through the 23^rd of October.

Fortunately, I did have some fun and interesting stuff going on last weekend. Charly came over the pond for a convention on Friday (the 22^nd) and stayed in town until early today (the 29^th). He arrived that Friday afternoon and we walked around a bit, grabbed a pint, and caught up. The next morning, he was off to the Unconvention, and I was off, with all the students, to Oxford!

Oxford was, in a word, lovely. We rolled into town (on a rail, of course) around 11am to find that the weather, which was supposed to be cold and rainy all day, was actually a beautiful sunny and clear 50 degrees. We had some time before our scheduled tour, so Ann and I went over to the Ashmolean museum, where there was a very nice (and pretty extensive) exhibition on the pre-Raphaelites, specifically “The Pre-Raphaelites and Italy.” It was an extremely impressive exhibit, especially the entire wall of Ruskin drawings and daguerreotypes (very important since I’m looking at Ruskin as part of my project). There were also some very good D.G. Rossetti and Burne-Jones pieces. Very cool.

After that (and lunch), the group got a walking tour of Oxford, which took us through 2 of the 38 colleges of the University. Oxford is organized into colleges, which don’t really mirror the American model. To paint with VERY broad strokes, think of the college as an American college within a house in Harry Potter (I know, I know, but you get the point). First up was Trinity College, one of the smallest colleges (400 students…the only college on campus that can guarantee housing to all its students). Famous alumni of Trinity include Cardinal Newman, and, in fiction, Jay Gatsby (not that I equate the two. Good lord do I hate The Great Gatsby…)

Even the smallest college has, of course, huge gardens and fields, which are all beautiful and out of the way. These are neatly enclosed behind stone walls (in quads) and locking gates, primarily because of the historic tension between town and gown. Modern iterations of that kind of drama don’t really hold a candle, especially given the body count (one riot saw 63 students killed by townsfolk). Hence, the quad (essentially a fortified structure) as spatial organizing principle of the university.

Anyway, from there, we walked over to New College, which is one of the larger colleges and also, famously, a shooting location for the Harry Potter movies, including the dining hall scenes. Yes, the Griffyndor table is the most popular, and it’s the only one they set when they have a low traffic evening. It’s a bit interesting to see it as college dining hall (complete with computer and card scanner at the front). It’s cool because of its age, though it’s clearly been renovated and refurbished. (Of course, this is where I obnoxiously claim that the dining hall in Burton-Judson at Chicago is just as nice, not to mention bigger, while admitting that it owes its design in part to this kind of room at Oxford…etc, etc.)

Right around the corner from the dining hall is the New College cloister, also a location for Harry Potter filming (Malfoy got turned into a ferret under the big tree in the middle). Needless to say, my students were a bit ecstatic at all of this, and there were plenty of photo ops. Hell, I admit it, I had fun too.

The tour took us by THE Bodleian Library, which was wonderful to see, and then out and around the corner where we finished.

We had group train tickets (you needed to travel together), so we broke into groups for the rest of the day. My group included our two Museum studies majors (and since I didn’t have anything specific that I wanted to see, I tagged along with their plans), so we went up and spent a couple of hours in the Pitt-Rivers Natural History Museum.

Now, I’m not sure when I got it in my head that I didn’t find natural history museums interesting. It must have been after I concluded that I did not, in fact, want to be a paleontologist, which was actually a bit later than most kids my age, but I decided, unconsciously, that I liked other history museums better. Don’t know why (but it does kind of explain why I liked the MSI so much more than the Field Museum…). In short, I would not have thought to go to the Pitt-Rivers museum had I been left to my own devices.

And I would have missed out in truly spectacular and embarrassing fashion.

It was probably one of the most interesting museums I have ever seen, from the building interior (which positively screamed turn of the century stone, steel, and glass) to the exhibit design, which retains the wood and glass case layout (including hand-written captions), to the positively mind-boggling amount of stuff packed into the space. The average case was, say, four by six feet, and each one had to contain dozens (and sometimes upwards of 50) artifacts and objects. It was overwhelming. You could walk through the place, setting foot in every square inch of available floor space, and still not see something. I retraced my steps several times, and I know that in walking down the aisles of cases that I missed something, regardless of how often I looked through each case. Plus, there were dinosaurs. Lots of them. Fully reconstructed dinosaur skeletons are always, always, going to be awesome. Admit it.

It was overwhelming and exciting. And because it looked so much like a late Victorian museum, there was a feeling of looking back at a sensibility that has (justifiably) passed on. There are some very controversial issues with British museums, as you may know, and there are quite a few artifacts at Pitt-Rivers that were acquired by less than, shall we say, honorable means (yes, I know that downplays the severity). The building still looks the part of imperialist showcase, but the exhibits that contain controversial items acknowledge the controversies as part of the display, which adds a fascinating angle to the whole thing. It has the interesting effect of making you feel (or it made me feel, I guess) as if you’re looking at artifacts and the controversy surrounding the artifacts and museums and cultural property and repatriation and all of it at once. It’s messy and chaotic drama sitting behind a piece of glass. It just doesn’t seem to lend itself to a neat and tidy answer (should this that or the other thing be done…).

And because of all that strange nuance, it was, frankly, overwhelming and wildly intoxicating.

But enough of that, reductive as it is. The Pitt-Rivers Museum is an incredible thing, good or bad.

Afterwards, we found ourselves in need of dinner. And of course, if you’re a nerd in Oxford, there’s not shortage of places to go, but since we had both C.S. Lewis and Tolkien nerds in the group, it was off to the Eagle and Child.

The Eagle and Child is, of course, where Tolkien, Lewis, and the Inklings (their writerly group of geeks…or geeky group of writers?) met to talk over matters of geeky or writerly import. And also to drink. Or to drink and talk over…well, you get the idea.

Anyway, the original pub has expanded into what was once the horse pasture out back, which is where the only available seating was (we were quite literally seated in the back corner of the building). The fish and chips were good, and it was neat to eat there. Sadly, there was a bit of a tourist element to the clientele, and what appeared to be a group of carousing American students and their British friends (by carousing I mean drunk) singing loudly. (“Swing low, sweet chariot”…”Don’t stop…believing…”…“Bye, bye miss American Pie, drove my Chevy to the…” groan.) Fortunately, they shut up after a while and we enjoyed the rest of the meal. It’s worth noting that I was not quite as excited as some of my students to use the same urinal trough as C.S. Lewis.

They did not, however, sell t-shirts or paraphernalia, so no souvenirs. Sorry.

And then we caught the train back to London. Overall, Oxford a big thumbs up.

Next time…THE TOWER!

In our last episode…

[Quick note: when I wrote this post offline, I assumed I would be able to upload pictures. That hasn't happened, seeing as how blogspot doesn't seem to want me to. I will try to get these sorted as soon as ever I can. Until then, when I mention photos, please provide the chuckle you would give if a power point presentation shorted out in the middle. So, enjoy at my expense (no, I can't be bothered to go back and edit the text. Don't be silly.)]

Well, it should come as no surprise that after promising an update, I failed to provide it in the timely fashion I hinted at. Shocking, I know.

We’ve got three weeks to get through, so let’s roll.

Previously, I had mentioned a long walk on a Tuesday morning. Later that day, I took another walk to the first class meeting of the Art History course I’m sitting in on (some of the students get to take it for credit). We covered a few things in a classroom then moved for the second part of the course to…the British Museum. Yes, that British Museum.

This was, I admit, the first legitimate jaw dropping moment of the trip. We went through the wing devoted to Greek statuary and saw the Elgin Marbles (or the Parthenon Marbles, if you want to be PC…there’s a bit of conTROVersy (British pronunciation)). Utterly spectacular.

After that, I wandered back to the flats, cruising along Kingsway back to the east. I walked down Drury Lane (without seeing the muffin man), then back along Fleet Street again (I like Fleet street).

Later that same day (we’re still Tuesday 9/21), or rather that evening, a couple of my students wanted to go see Big Ben and Parliament (we want the funk…give up the funk…) lit up at night. I gladly tagged along, and in an effort to avoid the tube, we walked down to Waterloo bridge and took some long shots (well, they did. I’m still on photo veto). The other nice piece of info was that at night the Royal Courts of Justice are lit up a lovely shade of blue. Very majestic. So, in one day, I covered essentially the same route 5 times. A busy day.

Fast forward to that weekend. We took our only organized overnight trip with the students, up to York. Some of you have seen some of my photos (80 or so of the 267 I took) on Facebook, but here’s a few more.

In short, York was amazing.

York Minster, my favorite massive building thus far, is so epically large that it actually looks unreal (I’d say the same about St. Paul’s in London…). I think this is because it’s so massive that as you walk by it or around it doesn’t appear to move, which screws with your brain’s ability to process spatial dimension. Or something along those lines. It kind of looks like it belongs in a Lord of the Rings movie, if I’m honest.

The rest of the city center is also very cool, having preserved to various degrees its medieval layout (that’s why we ended up going, after all). This continues my earlier thoughts that the spatial logic is quite different…the streets wind around and back onto each other. I got “lost” several times (in quotes because it’s really such a small area and I always found my way back).

So, overall, the York trip was a success.

The following two weeks, I spent a lot of time organizing things for the course I’m teaching. Nevertheless, I did go visit the National Gallery (twice) with the Art History class, and also continued to explore.

There was a very interesting exhibition at the Tate Modern (the modern art museum), which had to do with photography, voyeurism, spectacle, and so on. A very cool exhibit drawn largely from a photography collection at the San Francisco museum of modern art. I only took issue with one small section (Civil War photographs…way, WAY more complex, in my mind, than simple “images of violence”), but overall it was intriguing. Even picked up a few notes to add to the project (I’m just calling it “the project” or “my project” now…because “visual rhetorics, architecture, and stuff in London” just has too many syllables. Especially when I try to elaborate on “stuff”).

Of course, the Tate Modern is an interesting building in its own right, since it is a converted turbine power plant. A very large, very utilitarian looking brick and steel building that houses…modern art. It’s an interesting space to move through.

BUT…The real highlight of that two week period (after York, before Sarah) was two evenings spent at the Globe theatre. Technically, it’s “Shakespeare’s Globe.” Yes, I know it’s a reconstruction, completed in the 1990s, and the concrete floor and electric lights underscore that point, but inside, you wouldn’t know it. I was a groundling at Henry IV parts 1 and 2 on consecutive evenings, respectively, and that was amazing. First, it was an incredible production, with some smashing acting, second, it was IN THE FREAKING GLOBE!, and third, I heard David Bevington’s soothing, scholarly voice in the back of my head: “Shakespeare…[smiles] balancing the…eh…historical usurpation with an argument against usurpation…” and “Ah…Falstaff! Heh heh…” Very cool to see it done, very cool to be in the space, and even better to have fond memories of reading and studying the plays. And…I took pictures.

And then, the highlight of my month. My lovely fiancée came to visit for a few days.

First, we walked all over London to help her beat the jet lag, then had fish and chips and a pint with Ann. The next morning, we caught a train to Nottinghamshire, specifically to the village of Edwinstowe…alleged home of that notorious rascal, Robin Hood. We spent a good 3-4 hours just walking the nature paths in Sherwood, and it was in the top three of cool things I’ve seen in England. I’ll admit, I was worried that it would be a little tourist trap-ish, but my hat is off to the Brits; the visitor’s centre was pretty classy, and the most touristy thing was the movie posters hung up in the café. Plus, the forest was absolutely beautiful. They’ve done a lot of work to maintain the ecology of the forest, which involves repairing some of the damage done by the coal industry and the second world war (a lot of materiel and troops were concealed in the forest to keep the Germans from spotting them). All in all, they’ve done a great job. The place has a public feel, of course, because of the nature trails, but it still very much retains the sort of sanctity afforded to it by its status as a Royal game reserve (it’s now a national park area).

There is a massive range of foliage in the forest, from newer trees and undergrowth to centuries old oak trees, including the “Major Oak,” which was supposedly the meeting place and camp of Robin Hood’s Merry Men. Regardless of this factoid, the thing is probably pushing 800 or more years of age, meaning it was probably a couple hundred years old when Chaucer was active. Pretty stunning.

Of course, if you live near Sherwood Forest and you’re an archery enthusiast, you might set up shop near the Major Oak to give archery lessons…as Sarah discovered much to her delight!

We stayed in a very nice, very small bed and breakfast in Edwinstowe, then headed back down to London the next day. A short trip, but a fantastic one. It was good to get out into the country, and away from the hectic intensity of London, for a while. I think that the countryside is a view of England that a lot of people have, and it was nice to experience it as well.

Back in London that evening (Sunday), we went over to Brown’s Hotel for evening tea, which was very classy indeed (and really tasty, especially the desert tray. Yes, I like sweets.).

On Monday, we slept in a bit and then, ambitiously, sought to tackle the British Museum. We saw the Elgin marbles and a good portion of the medieval Europe rooms before running out of steam. It was also quite crowded, and I have to say I was not particularly impressed with the way many people were moving through the space. Granted, everyone is allowed to experience the place the way they want, but I do have to wonder how much time people can spend LOOKING at things and thinking about them when they are snapping photos the whole time (granted, I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately). Here I am judging, true, but it was a little frustrating to be bumped out of the way so someone could get a picture of themselves in a goofy pose next to this or that artifact. But, there you go.

After that, we cruised down Charing Cross road (undergoing major construction, avoid) to have a late lunch at the crypt at St. Martin-in-the-fields. Good food, good price, good crypt. Weird how that works.

That evening, we took the Westminster by lamplight tour, which took us around, well, Westminster, specifically the Abbey and Parli-…that famous building with the famous bell tower attached…you know, the one that has had its name conflated with the bell inside. Very neat, with some cool photos (I broke my London photo moratorium while Sarah was in town).

The next day (Tuesday), we grabbed a bit of lunch with some of my students, then hit my favorite attraction so far: the Churchill War Rooms and Museum. Granted, I have to confess my nerdish bias for the time period, but I really did think the place was laid out extremely well. One part of the museum consisted of faithfully reconstructed (from photographs and testimonials) rooms from the War Cabinet offices, and the other was a dedicated museum to Churchill himself, from birth to death. It was the perfect mix of text, artifact, audio/visual, and interactive material. The handful of pictures I took don’t really do it justice, even a little bit. It costs to get in, but I would recommend it heartily.

We spent almost three hours there, then had to RUN over to Westminster Abbey for evensong. That’s the trick, by the way. You pay to get in as a tourist, but you can go to a service for free. We actually sat over in Poet’s Corner, and the rather intimidating bust of William Blake was hovering over me the whole time. Scary. After the service, we lingered about as people were queuing up to see the relics of St. Edward the Confessor. We said hello to Chaucer, Dryden, Tennyson, and a few of the boys before being shooed away by an annoyed looking Anglican priest.

We walked along the south bank afterwards, past the Eye and over to the Millennium Bridge. After that, it was off to a pub for a meat pie and a couple pints. We also took in the first half of the England-Montenegro Euro qualifier. England had the better of play the whole time, but just couldn’t seem to put it together in the last third. This apparently remained the case in the second half, since it ended in a 0-0 draw.

Then, today, Sarah had to fly back home. That was less than awesome, to say the least. We said our goodbyes over coffee and porridge in Paddington station, which was pretty pleasant, and then I came back down to the City to go on the “Legal and Illegal London” walking tour with the group. Learned a lot about the Inns of Court and the law in England, which was good, even if I was a bit distracted.

For the rest of this week, I’ll be catching up on all that work I haven’t been doing. Sheesh.

Plus, my photo moratorium is up tomorrow. Which leaves 9 weeks to go into phase to of “the project.” Before I do that, of course, I’ll need to get some of my scattershot impressions down on paper…

Calling out the inevitable

So, a confession. I've had internet back for the last few days, but I've found myself swamped by various commitments. I do have an awful lot to share, including reflections on the first couple weeks, the city, our trip to York, and catching up on the work I wasn't doing while I was doing all of those things.

Sadly, that will have to wait until at least tomorrow. Hopefully, I'll follow through on that and actually post something. I'd hate to have an "I'll post more tomorrow!" note up for the next few weeks...yeesh.