Farewell England ...I'm at HKK Airport- The LAST POST

It sort of seems a long time since I blogged - but of course, it has only been a day and a bit - I'm here in transit at HKK International - clean, quiet, and free wifi!! why do things run so smoothly in some places? ..so this will be a Blog in transit.

On Friday after a wonderful and peaceful day at the British Library - I hurried about like a madwoman to catch a final glimpse of some Art .I set off to the National Gallery for the Corot to Monet exhibition.From its own archives of the National Gallery's lavish collection of 19th century French masterpieces, Corot to Monet charts the development of open-air landscape painting up to the first great Impressionist exhibition of 1874. It begins with small- scale oil sketches Denis, Pierre Henri de Valenciennes and Thomas Jones, works of art painted directly from nature in Rome and Naples in the 1780s. There are works from the Barbizon School as the exhibition examines how painters such as Théodore Rousseau, Jean François Millet and Narcisse-Virgilio Diaz de la Peña captured their native scenery.
By this stage I had almost murdered a few tourists (mainly those who sort of stand there to tick off their catalogue entry)...just as well I was relaxed ...
The exhibition went on to trace the influence of these canvases on the Impressionists as the Paris-based movement began experimenting with new techniques. Monet's The Beach at Trouville and other early efforts are on show alongside the beach scenes of Eugène Boudin and later works by Corot.

Call me boring but as usual I was drawn to Monet's work. However, it was interesting to look at the origins of the impressionists and be able to trace the development, especially as I had little knowledge of Corot. Two of my favourite works were - two iconic views of London by Monet and fellow refugee, Charles-Francois Daubigny.Monet's The Thames below Westminster captures the stillness of the then recently built Houses of Parliament, while Daubigny's St Paul's from the Surrey Side portrays a modern industrial city.

Fighting off the crowds in inner London is not my favourite pastime - and Trafalgar Square on a Friday evening is NO fun.. but it had been worth the effort and I finally made it back to Kilburn as Matthew and I had planned a night out. As it turned out he offered to make a great green salad (reminiscent of the Monti days) and I needed greens - so we polished off the salad accompanied by a bottle of Limsestone Coast Shiraz! By now we were both quite merry, and throwing caution to the wind decided to go to a local - for dessert and more wine.

Hugo's is basically on the next street - a resturaunt/bar which serves organic food and wine and has live Jazz.

I can't remember much past the next glass of French something and the Eton Mess (something resembling strawberries and Meringue)....we swayed home ....great night ..but ugh - an early morning ahead.


The morning started with a rendezvous with Dylan and Tessa at C'est Ici for a coffee and croissant .. feeling a little bit seedy - but bright sunny skies and caffeine did the trick.
We set off for Hammersith to collect goodies for our planned picnic on the Thames at Hampton Court. First to Blanche to get some scrummy Portuguese tarts (found later these were almost as good as my sister Ingrid's), then to a great Deli callled Sundrica and to Marks and Sparks for other fine dining items.

Dylan had worked out bus routes so we could be covered by our Travelcard - the added bonus being that we had a meandering trip via Kew Gardens and through what must once have been the ancient villages of Kewand Richmond. We passed the Maids of Honour - an old Bakery in Richmond that has been baking since the days of the Henry the VIII court and home of the 'Maid of Honour Cake'. The Maid of Honour cake has been part of Richmond history for nearly 300 years. Although there are numerous legends about its origin, it is generally believed that Henry VIII was the first to use the name when he met Ann Boleyn and other Maids of Honour eating the cakes from a silver dish. Apparently legend has it that King Henry VIII was so delighted with the cakes that the recipe was kept secret and locked in an iron box in Richmond Palace.

We finally at arrived at Hampton Court Palace and as we were starving elected to have lunch first- found a good spot on the banks of the Thames and indulged in what must go down as one of the best picnics I have ever had. Tessa had carefully packed wine goblets, cutlery and plates for the delicious spread - Fresh Ciabatta, Foccacia, Black Olives, Chilli and Coriander Pate, Cos Lettuce, the sweetest cherry tomatoes, fresh Mozarella and the runniest ripe French Brie ...all washed down by a bottle of fresh lemonade....what bliss.

Fully sated, we were ready for four hours of historical exploration - I had been here before with my friend Jonathon Blake in 1995 - the Privy Garden had just been re-planted and we had almost had the castle to ourselves, thanks to Jonathon's connections with the Elizbethan Theatre Company for whom he was a costume designer - but, today was a Saturday, the first sunny one in a while and school summer holidays...I shuddered at the prospect. However, I did manage to espcape from the crowds (in my head) and somehow managed to exclude them from my photos.

This place is the story of two palaces: a Tudor palace, magnificently developed by Cardinal Wolsey and later Henry VIII, alongside a baroque palace built by William III and Mary II.
With its 500 years of royal history Hampton Court Palace almost too much to take in, in one day. Set in sixty acres of world famous gardens the Palace is a living tapestry of history from Henry VIII to George II. From the elegance of the recently restored eighteenth century Privy Garden to the domestic reality of the Tudor Kitchens we are taken back through the centuries to experience the Palace as it was when royalty was in residence.

The Privy Garden as it appears today is one of the most accurately reconstructed gardens because so much was recorded about the original 1702 garden. William III died before it was completely finished and all the gardeners and workmen were so scared of not being paid that they submitted the fullest accounts for all their work. Even so, many of them including Tijou who made the ironwork and the supplier of the statues were never paid in full by Queen Anne. The Privy Garden represents a formal style of gardening which fell out of fashion soon after this garden was originally made.

This garden from Henry VIII’s day was always the King’s private garden, and very few people would ever have gained admittance to it up until the 18th century. Even then, it remained a private garden for the grace and favour residents of the palace right up until the early 20th century. So it is quite privilige to spend time in the garden now - to meander the paths quite freely. The highlights for me were too many to list - however, a standout was the Royal Chapel - absolutely exquisite with its blue and gold vaulted ceiling, and its elaborate parquetry floors and red velvet choirister seats. This chapel has remained the Chapel of Worship for every English monarch since it was built.

Another favourite was the many fireplaces in the chambers of the King and Queen and of course the wonderful 'Knot Gardens' with their windowed ouvres cut into the yew hedges. I was absolutely exhausted and found a quiet bench to reflect while Dylan and Tessa still raced around the grounds - oh to be young again!

At 6.00 Tessa and I were the last to be let out of the rarher large wooden doors - we pause for a while in Clock Court to admire the gold leaf on the blue clockface and I marvelled once more and the magnificent chimneys - large - red brick in winding geometrical patterns standing like sentinels on the rooftops - wouldn't they have a few stories to tell?- if only they could talk.

After a much needed cup of tea at Bluebeckers on the River, and one of our 'tarts' (snuck in in our bags) - we made our way back to Richmond to Carluccio's for final hurrah - the 'last supper' - Calamari and Penne with a spicy tomato sauce - a glass of Sicilian red and a long trip home - it was 11.00 pm and I was in no mood for packing - but I did have to face it and was amazed that everything fitted in the suitcase.

Farewell to Matthew and an early trip to Heathrow - where Dylan and Tessa were kind enough to drag themselves out of bed on a Sunday morning to see me off. The usual security nightmare ... Bags @ 23 kg .... and finally, CX252 departed on time and without much fuss - up into the ether -carrying me away laden with so many wonderful experiences, adventures and sensations that will fill my memory with sweet fragments for a long long time.

Monday 27th ...almost 26 hours in transit ...Melbourne - Tullamarine Airport - queues, sniffer dogs, questions, form filling ...Graeme's welcoming smile awating patiently to whisk me home to Geelong.

It's Tuesday today and as I complete this last Blog I am jetlagged and living in trepidation of the early morning start on VLine tomorrow - this will not be a St Pancras International experience - then there is the thought of work???? The bags have been unpacked - the mail opened ... accounts still to be dealt with (Sigh) Then there's the small matter of my beloved BMW - it sort of died while I was away - and at the cost of a large sum of money is to be revived over the next week - just what a girl needs to hear at midnight on the send last day of her holiday ... (Sigh) Then of course, there's the anxiety of seeing Dad again ..how will he be? (Sigh)

However, as I opened the gate late last night and walked up my garden path, I breathed in the cold nght air which was suffused with the early blooming Daphne - I opened the door, turned on the central heating, had a hot shower with plenty of free flowing water, and lay down in my very comfortable warm bed with Tigger (my hot water bottle) - I was home ...and, as much as I have loved being away, there's nothing like home.

So it's time to say farewell from me on this journey - and in doing so, and reflecting on the wonderful time I've had, I want to thank all my friends and family who in so many ways directly or indirectly contributed to making all this possible - because it was not just the generosity of friends and strangers overseas who contributed to the happy experience by offers of space in their lives - but it was also the unselfish generosity of family, friends and colleagues who contributed to the experience, who by generously stepping into the breach and supporting me in so many everyday ways - played a critical role in alllowing me the space to actually get away.

So, a great big thanks to each one of you - your friendship is one of the most precious things I have - I feel truly blessed -

I will leave you with these words of Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
and sorry I could not travel both
and be one traveller, long I stood
and looked down one as far as I could
to where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
and having perhaps the better claim,
because it was grassy and wanted wear;
though as for that the passing there
had worn them really about the same,
and both that morning equally lay,
in leaves no step had trodden back,
on, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted as I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh.
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -
I took the one less travelled by,
and that has made all the difference.



Lots of love,

Lariane xx

Found a new home ..think I'll stay for a while...

The weather did not get much better ...now I am begining to understand why the Brits are so obsessed with talking about the weather ...remember once? when it used to rain in Melbourne, we too used to talk about it all the time.

I negotiated a few tube changes and arrived at Kings Cross/ St Pancras International to meet Gillian for lunch. What an amazing experience - years gone by, I was quite familiar with this station as it was where I often caught the Midland train to Bedford to visit my aunt and uncle. It was a dilapidated, sad and depressing place - probably one of the most run down stations (mainline) in London. well, the transformation has to be seen to be believed.

St Pancras International is truly a 21st-century wonder. In 1877 Sir George Gilbert Scott's single-span iron-and-glass train shed was engineered by William Henry Barlow (1812-1902) and Rowland Mason Ordish (1824-1886), both of whom had worked with Joseph Paxton on the design of the Crystal Palace.

As you walk into St Pancras through brand new gothic doors and enter the station's previously unseen undercroft, with its 800 Victorian iron pillars,check-in points and security controls fill the former storage basement.I rode up the long, silent escalators up to the trains basking beneath Barlow and Ordish's glorious roof. This is the most adventurous and biggest roof of its kind (certainly that I have ever seen) and it has apparently remained so for decades after it was built. It is now painted a sky blue and flooded with daylight from the skylights that lie between the metal. This station, welcomes 1 Km long, 300kph trains, and has a huge cocktail bar The Champagne Bar, a branch of Foyles , a smart Searcy's restaurant and brasserie - The Oyster Bar (I only looked from the outside), and hundreds of coffee bars and boulangeries. The floors are covered in timber and stone rather than boring carpet, there are new gothic carvings, newly cast gothic door handles, and a nine-metre-high sculpture of lovers meeting under the station clock. How could anyone ever have thought of denying the world this engineering aria, this architectural masterpiece.? But, they did try - there was much opposition to the preservation of the building.

When St Pancras was threatened with destruction in 1966, eminent architectural historians - including Nikolaus Pevsner and tireless conservationists, notably John Betjeman - fought a vigorous campaign to shame British Railways and Harold Wilson's governmenmt. Today, a statue of John Betjaman, the poet stands cast in bronze and surrounded by a poem of his on the stonein honour of his heroic deeds. Here are his words:

"And in the shadowless unclouded glare,
Deep blue above us fades to whiteness where,
A misty sealine meets the wash of air ..."

It is - and I think Scott, Barlow, Ordish, Pevsner and Betjeman might all agree, whether you have business in Brussels, a lunch date in Paris or are simply keen to avoid airport hell, whether you are a railway buff, an engineer, curious shopper, architectural historian or a Friday-evening champagne Charlie, or an idle traveller like me, the new-look St Pancras is very likely to suit you. Here is a gothic fairy tale brought up to date, setting a new standard for England's railways, and has brought new life to one of Europe's most compelling buildings.

I met Gillian for lunch and we chose Carluccio's for a Mozarella and Tomato salad and superb coffee - a bit more suitable than the Champagne Bar at this time of day. We bade farewell at the Sheffield express and I headed off to what could become my new home - The British Library.


T he British are rabid collectors of information, artifacts, and antiquities. Many of the world's most important museums are on this small island. They've been cataloging civilization longer than many countries have been in existence. So, why then, is something with a title as prestigious as "The British Library" in a building so modern? Because, amazingly enough,up till this - it used to be little more than a reading room in the British Museum.

The sun came out ...briefly!
This building was constructed in 1998 after more than 20 years of planning, bickering, and partisan shenanigans. Before this building was erected, the millions of books in the collection were scattered around the city in other libraries. Getting them all together in one place is a boon to readers and researchers. The end result is a reddish-brown building that has not yet earned a soft spot in the public's heart. It looks something like one of the mills that used to line the banks of rivers all over Britain, churning out textiles two centuries ago. But now the product is knowledge, and the warehouse of information this building contains is enough to keep people like me here for many years.

And then it poured again ....
My first mission was to obtain a Readers Registration card. After queueing and all the correct protocols and tests/evidence, I am now the proud owner of a British Library Readers Card till end 2010 - I may have to stay.I was here till 7.00 last night and today I am back for more - Galleries, readers rooms, cafes, clean toilets, readers lounge, quiet spaces with free wireless internet access - what more could a girl want. Perhaps 3 months here to finish that PhD!
Dream On ...

Here is a small sample of things I have seen:


The original Magna Carta
Magna Carta is often thought of as the corner-stone of liberty. Four copies of this original grant survive. Two, including this one, are held here at the British Library


The William and Mary seal for the establishment of the East India Trading Company - the facade for expansion of colonialism.
The East India Company was the foundation stone of British colonial expansion in Asia, and was established by royal charter in 1600.

The Codex Sinaiticus
Codex Sinaiticus is one of the most important books in the world. Handwritten well over 1600 years ago, the manuscript contains the Christian Bible in Greek, including the oldest complete copy of the New Testament.

This is the original version of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, hand-written by Charles Dodgson for Alice Liddell between 1862 and 1864.




This working draft for one of Virginia Woolf's most admired novels dates from 1924. Originally called 'The Hours', it was published the following year as Mrs Dalloway.
The most surreal experience here was the chance to hear Virginia Woolf's actual voice in an interview from the BBC archives on 'Craftsmanship'. i felt she was in the room with me.

Elgar's 'Enigma Variations on an Original Theme' is one of the most familiar pieces of English musicThis was one of the first works to bring Elgar to public recognition, and was first performed in London in June 1899.

The epic Ramayana has been performed throughout India and South East Asia for at least 2000 years. The earliest written text dates back to 400 AD, and was written by the poet Valmiki who brought together stories, songs and prayers connected to Rama and Sita. The epic's origins are in India and Hinduism, but over the centuries the story has crossed seas and mountains, languages and religions, performance styles and art forms. One of the phenomenons of this epic is its migration around the world, which has led to multiple versions and tellings, each storyteller re-composing the story for each audience. Ramayana is still a living performance tradition today.

Apart from all of this there old maps (Christopher Columbus), The Lindisfarne Gospels, John Lennon's original scribblings of 'Help', Jane Austen's 'Persuasion....and on and on...

The other most appealing aspect of spending time here is the environment - conducive to learning - the way in which one meets other researchers quite spontaneously - great conversations - people from all over the globe - diverse research interests -each with a story to tell - Oh how I would love to stay ... but I'm off to the National Gallery for my last hit of 'art' an exhibition 'From Corot to Monet' ...farewell for now ... this could almost be my last post...perhaps one more!
Bye!

Grey Skies and Architectural Photography don't mix well...

Making my way as I do each morning along Victoria and Salibury Rds to Queens Park Station I am reminded of those days a long time ago when I trudged the streets of Highgate or Crouch End - cold, grey skies, rows upon rows of cars parked along uniformly standing houses, Plane tree lined streets - stepping over uneven pavers to avoid tripping ... on my way to the daily grind or to the University library to research. But no, it is 2009 - I am on holiday - and that does bring an aura of lightness back into the spirit.

It's been good to finally have a place to stay for more than just a few nights, but it has also meant that I have managed to get into little routines that reminded me of living in England in the 70's. One of the things I abhor - is the peak hour rush on the Tube..and much to my dismay, I have managed to get caught up in it all too often. I think someone forgot to tell London Transport that they don't need the heating systems on!

Anyway, yesterday was the day I realised my need to explore the architecture of the relatively new Jubilee Line. I made my way down to N Greenwich Station where I inspected the Millenium Dome (O2) and after a security check was allowed in. I was busy 'snapping away' when I was stopped by 2 security guard who insisted that professional photographers were not permitted - I lost my case and left.

Commissioned to mark the beginning of the new Millennium, the Millennium Dome was intended as a celebratory, iconic space with flexiblity and was designed by Richard Rodgers and partners - I have talked about this architect before - especially about his work in Berlin. The Millennium Dome is the largest single-roofed structure in the world. Externally it appears as a large white marquee with 100 m-high yellow support towers, one for each month of the year, or each hour of the clock face, representing the role played by Greenwich Mean Time.

As I emerged from the very stylish N Greenwich station, I was impressed by the sheer size and elegance of the dome - however due to a lot of construction work around, the grey sky and the fact that you really need to be far above to appreciate it - my photos cannot do it justice.

Back to the Jubilee Line ... The Jubilee line is the Underground's newest line, but serves stations which originally opened over 100 years ago.

Architecture of the stations on the extension can only be described as spectacular. All have vast tracts of space - a number of world famous architects were employed at the various stations resulting in a statement of importance not seen on the Underground since Charles Holden's designs of the 1930s. Canary Wharf is arguably the largest, and probably most impressive - I had a personal interest in this one as a friend of mine Rodney Uren had worked on this project with Norman Foster.

Stations on the rest of the line have a variety of styles ranging from late 1970s at Baker Street and south to Charing Cross, through late 1930s style at Kilburn. After several hours of going up and down escalators, photographing metal, concrete, glass and tiles to the dulcit tones of "this is a Jubilee Line".... and "Mind the Gap" I had had enough.

I did take one diversion at Canary Wharf - the sun had come out momentarily - so thought I would try the DLR to Greenwich - I was so close to the Prime Meridien - I really should venture there. The DLR (Light Rail) is a wonderful small train that snakes its way above ground and the harbour - weaving in and out through the awesome development of the old docklands. This is an amazing example of re-development - and, architects in Melbourne should heed some lessons.

When I first arrived at Greenwich I was horrified by what I saw - fish and chip shops, kebabs, tacky tourist souvenier outlets - you name it - and yet if you look beyond this mess there are all the hallmarks of what must have once been a very old and historic village and Naval port of importance.

It is best known for its maritime history and as giving its name to the Greenwich Meridian (0° longitude) and Greenwich Mean Time. The town became the site of a Royal palace, the Palace of Placentia from the 15th century, and was the birthplace of many in the House of Tudor, including Henry VIII and Elizabeth I.The Palace was rebuilt as the Royal Naval Hospital for Sailors by Sir Christopher Wren and his assistant Nicholas Hawksmoor. These buildings became the Royal Naval College in 1873, The University of Greenwich now occupies most of the property.

Another point of interest was the Greenwich Markets - I strolled around the perimeter but was not willing to tackle the tacky tourist crowds.

One of the things I did do however was to take the lift down, down, down, to the foot tunnel under the Thames and walk to the other side of the PM ... this was a very eerie experience - and once on the other side I had to fight off feelings of claustrophobia to get back.

Unable to cope with any more underground ... I succumbed to a Thames Clipper ride back to London Bridge for a river view of the city. The development and renovation of all the old docks and adjactent warehouses is absolutely amazing - every shape, size and material has been used - but much of the original features have been retained to preserve integrity. As I gazed at the muddy Thames and looked at the bank to bank development, I recalled with a smile the words of William Morris:

"...and dream of London small white and green,
the clear Thames bordered by its gardens green."

He'd be having nightmares now!

I coudn't risk the weather getting any better than it was - that is : no rain at least - so decided to walk towards Tower Bridge along the Thames path to peruse two more architectural projects on my list. The Thames Path runs for 184 miles (294km) from its source at Kemble in the Cotswolds to the Thames Barrier in East London. More London Riverside is another of Foster and Partners (by now you may realise that the man has a stranglehold on architecture in the western world). Still under construction it is another glass and steel edifice designed to reflect the environemt especially the sky and river.

London has certainly embraced glass and steel as the hallmark of the new millennium. London's new City Hall is not something simple as it is often desvribed - like a sphere, or an egg. It is something that resembles a drop of water being blown over by a puff of air. It has movement and life -Each level is offset slightly from the one below, hanging over one side of the building.
The result is a slightly curving side, and a rapidly curving side. Apparently this is an energy-saving feature, as the building is angled to take advantage of sunlight in the winter, and avoid it in the summer. And ...yes you guessed it ...another one for Norman Foster!

By now I was nearing falling over - but not to be defeated, I made my way over Tower Brideg past the Tower of London and wondered what Henry VIII's two wives Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard would have thought of all the throngs of tourists as they languished in the Tooer awaiting their deaths ??? Henry executed two of his wives at the Tower of London. Anne Boleyn, Henry’s second wife, had proved unable to provide him with the son he so desperately sought. Anxious to marry again, he accused Anne of adultery and treason; Catherine Howard, Henry’s fifth wife, was quite possibly guilty of the same charge...has history changed that much? well, perhaps not execution but the courts still leave women with a battle to prove innocence.

Making my way back to Liverpool Street I was once again struck at the way in which The Gherkin punctuates the London skyline at every angle - still no blue sky!


Finally gave way to the madness of the Underground in rush hour annd found myself at Diwanas where I met Dylan and Tessa for a Dosa. The trip was worth it but the trip home was a nightmare - suffused by nostalgia of days gone by - much like the day had started, I boarded a 134 bus to Tottenham Court Road - I used to spend hours on this route many moons ago. Sadly not much has changed, the bus arrived after half an hour - 3 of them in a row - then there was a diversion via Regent Street - shopaholics Paradiso - filled with grotty tourists - GET ME OUT OF HERE! I was very pleased to see Lynton Rd. When Matthew got home at 10.00 I was already in bed ... and as has become the case this week - he has come in to say hello - sat on the piano stool and I have recounted the day - Each day I usually start with ...Today, I died and went to heaven but it's true ..each day reveals another gem ...I wonder what today will bring? and will I have enough lives to last the distance?...stay tuned.

It's raining ..but I found heaven at the Courtauld!

Yesterday morning the skies were grey and heavy, I blogged, did my washing and as I chewed on my muesli and beautiful english raspberries.... I gazed into the garden wondering if the little green apples on the tree would ever ripen in this cool, wet English summer - I was tempted to 'stay in' ..read my new book by Adam Nicolson on Sissinghurst - but the oyster card (London Transport version of MYKI) in my pocket was burning a hole in it - perhaps I should just go out and ride the buses? perhaps I should go to the Courtauld as planned?

I found myself at Waterloo Station, and after a walk across the Thames with stunning views up and down the river - in the rain - I finally arrived at Somerset House home of the Courtauld Institute of Art and the Gallery- an 18th century palace on the banks of the Thames, designed by William Chambers. Once the home of the Royal Academy of Art, these small galleries are the most elegant and intimate space in which I have had the pleasure to view art.

Having just been to Charleston Farmhouse in Sussex, I had heard there was an exhibition called Beyond Bloomsbury - keen to see this I came here never suspecting the rich colletion I was about to have the privilige to feast on. This exhibition explores a radical chapter in the history of 20th century British design. Established in 1913 by the painter and influential art critic Roger Fry, the Omega Workshops were an experimental design collective, whose members included Vanessa Bell, Duncan Grant and other artists of the famous Bloomsbury Group. They were a laboratory of design ideas, creating a range of objects for the home, from rugs and linens to ceramics, furniture and clothing – all boldly coloured with dynamic abstract patterns. No artist was allowed to sign their work, and everything produced by the Workshops bore only the Greek letter Ω (Omega).

This was truly an amazing experience ... here at touching distance I was standing in front of work by artists I have long admired - some of it was familiar (as seen in books etc) but there was a wealth of work which I had never heard of and much of the early beginings of some of the artists-their ideas and developments. Here is a sample:


Peacocks Roger Fry







Adam and Eve Vanessa Bell







Rug Design Duncan Grant



And, of course, my favourite piece .. The Conversation. This painting may have been one of Virginia's favourite's too ..she had commented to Vanessa about her fine skills at painting but more importantly said ..."and, you are a fine storyteller too". This painting has so much life to it ... and it has - a story.

This exhibition also includes rarely seen works on paper by Winfred Gill (1891–1981), the unsung heroine of the Omega Workshops.


After feasting my senses on the Bloomsbury collection for about 2 hours I found sustenance in the form of a cup of Earl Grey Tea and a Victorian Sponge Tea cake in the cafe - still raining outside!!!

Refreshed, I made my way through to the other Galleries - if anyone wanted to see a sample collection of Western Art from the Renaissance to the 20th C this is a the place - absolute gems ... many of my favourites so often looked for by me at other famous galleries and never found - because as I discovered today - here they are - and here is a sample for you:

First there was the collection of Italian 14th and early 15th century paintings apparently this is one of the most important in Britain and includes works by Bernado Daddi, Giotto’s greatest pupil, and Fra Angelico, the renowned monk painter of 15th century Florence.

This Triptych by Daddi is absoutely stunning, the colours are bright and luminiscent - as if the paint is still wet.



Then the Renaissance collection with paintings from both Italy and northern Europe. It included one of the few altarpieces by Botticelli to be housed in a museum collection together with works by Venetian masters such as Lorenzo Lotto and Tintoretto. Highlights of the northern schools include one Cranach’s greatest and most alluring paintings Adam and Eve.


The 17th Century collection features examples of Ruben’s sketches and preparatory works, such as The Descent from the Cross, which offer unique insights into the mind of this great Baroque master.



This gallery houses one of the finest collections of Impressionist and Post-Impressionist paintingsI have seen. All my favourites often looked for in other famous galleries - the collection has an array of outstanding works charting the development of modern French painting from Monet and Renoir to Seurat and Gauguin. Among them was world-famous masterpieces such as van Gogh’s Self-Portrait with Bandaged Ear,

Manet’s great last painting A Bar at the Folies-Bergère - I spent at least half an hour in front of her - the more I looked the more I was transported to that bar ...
and some outstanding canvases by Cézanne.
An entire room is dedicated to paintings, drawings and bronzes by Degas.




And of course, there was Monet's calming and dreamy landscapes...



and there was .....Gauguin's depiction of lost innocence through colonisation


Finally, I'm told that the he Courtauld Gallery is the only museum in Britain with such an outstanding display of paintings by the French Fauves (or Wild Beasts), including important works by Matisse, Derain and Dufy. This is complemented by German Expressionist paintings the highlight of which was the collection of Kandinsky’s works, and a wonderful Modigliani.


As you can imagine I was totally spent in every way - especially after making my way to the Gallery shop where my credit card joined in the spending!!!! how could I resist the catalogues?

I wandered aimlessly in the rain in the vast and empty courtyard of the palace - only with the company of a few pigeons who seem to be resilient and resistant to weather foul or fair... the fountains danced merrily in the rain, intermittently surging towards the grey sky and blending in with the torrential downpour - as I turned to leave I was drawn to a light in the window above ... and I reflected, and bade a warm farewell to the rooms of the Courtauld holding treasures beyond my wildest imaginations which I had had the privilige to experience in this life time. I can now die happy! but not yet.