Book interlude

Tea and cookies with The Exiles Return--not Mrs Miniver, as I assumed--(and some hangers-on)

 My plan is to return to London one of these days--or at least to writing up the enthralling tale of our time there last year. Not that I wouldn't like to return in person too (so many places for tea!), but god knows the way the current administration is going Americans will be banned from just about every other country on Earth--and who can blame them? I stray.

Some of the stacks

 Today was the Red Letter Day long anticipated around here: the day I finally dealt with the piles of books that were shifted to the bedroom floor when we were clearing the living room to make space for Christmas dinner guests. I have just pointed out proudly to Scott that that means it was less than two months, aka practically no time at all. But I noticed this morning that there were drifts of dust and such accumulating between the stacks and that just seemed a little too nasty.

Oregon vacation reading (not recommended), vacation snacking (yum), vacation drinks (lovely)

 I started by sorting so the second photo above does not include Scott's "to be read" books or the blank books or the Mountaineers publications or the field guides or miscellaneous other sorts that required less thought. And it also includes some titles that never made it to the floor but instead have accreted since Christmas on tables and such. I never did a final "2024 in Books" post and I sort of thought that might be what this would be, but now I'm doubtful that's going to happen. But let's see:

The Sentence, tea, and cupcake chez Aurora

 Going by the list to the left, I read eighty-four books in 2024, and for the first time in thirty-seven years I don't need to add "not including books read for work" which, I must say, has been damned nice. Oh, I quite enjoyed a lot of the books I read as part of my job, but I also am not sorry to have all the time--and mental capacity--for my own. I was pretty good about using the public library, at least for the first half of the year and then I had a lot of books purchased on Bookstore Day(s) providing me fodder through the summer and beyond. Indeed, I still have not read a couple of the books picked up the end of last April. 

At Sea-Wolf: I remember liking The Last Samurai, but I find I don't remember the story at all.

 I confess I am shocked to find that I read only five Trollope novels in 2024; I would have thought the number would be a lot higher, but then I don't consider page counts in these belated summaries. I went heavy into mysteries (eighteen) which I attribute, at least in part, to getting books from the library: mysteries is an easy section to browse. Two favorites from that genre, both courtesy SPL: My Murder and After She Wrote Him. 

The Goodbye Cat (good, but not as good as The Travelling Cat Chronicles) in the backyard

 There were only eight children's books this year, and half of those were re-reads, while I also read but eight non-fiction titles. The loveliest of those was likely Maeve Higgins' Tell Everyone on This Train I Love Them though Will My Cat Eat My Eyeballs? was also quite fine. The most disappointing book of the year (possibly of the decade, if not the millennium) was David James Duncan's Sun House, while the in-search-of-a-publisher Islands and Other Stories (Scott's latest) was the best. If I take Scott's book out of the mix then the best would likely be The Trumpet of the Swan, The Girls, or one of those two mysteries.

Americanah (and maybe some snacks for later) at La Parisienne 

Presidents Day Protest in Olympia in photos

 As Scott and I made our way to the light rail so we could meet up with Wendy and Jera for the trip to Olympia, a guy saw Scott's sign and asked what we were protesting. "Everything," was Scott's response and that was reflected in the range of signs we saw at the Capitol. We jumped off the light rail in Columbia City so I could fetch some pastries at the PCC there. When we were checking out, the cashier asked if we were going to a protest. When we said yes, she expressed regret that she had to work--and  then comped one of our pastries! I felt just like Karen Molenaar Terrell for a moment! (Scott's observation: "Shrinkage.")

"The Olympian" says there were about 2,000 of us on the Capitol grounds yesterday; that sounds accurate enough to me. People lined the road with signs, getting a lot of supportive honks and waves from passing cars. A second group was near the Tivoli Fountain (a feature I never actually saw) where the sound system left a bit to be desired. The third throng was on or near the Capitol steps where the sound system worked and the State Insurance Commissioner (I think) got some serious applause--not the something you might expect, really. 

 The nicest thing about a protest at the state capitol? You get access to real bathrooms with running water and everything! Go Democracy! 

 This post is mostly photos--in no particular order, mostly of signs, because there are some damned clever people who care about democracy.

The Art of Civilization at the National Gallery

 Truth to tell, I'm not sure I can concentrate on London art this evening, but I'm going to give it a shot because there's only so much horror and despair a person can manage. We spent our last full day in England mostly at the National Gallery. I was sure they had some Vermeers and yet none of the signage mentioned him. Instead signs named Rembrandt which, yes, pretty big name, but also Frans Hals (okay . . . ) and, if I'm remembering correctly, Aelbert Cuyp. But not Vermeer. So I was getting pretty anxious as we went from room to room. Had they gotten rid of their Vermeers? Poor Scott had to calm me more than once. But then:

The quiet room with the Vermeers

Oh, how relieved I felt. While neither of these is my favorite Vermeer, it was still reassuring to be in their presence once more. Naturally, I spent some time with them:

Transfixed, I tell you.

What I like most about seeing these paintings in person--really, any painting in person--is that you can concentrate on weird little details. Sadly, I failed to get a decent photo of the tiles along the baseboard in "Lady Standing at a Virginal," but I assure you they are quite charming. Those seventeenth-century Dutch knew how to decorate a room.

Blurry photo of Vermeer tiles

As it happens, there were some other works of art at the London Gallery. That very same room contained a painting by Pieter de Hooch that Scott shocked me by saying he preferred to my faves. It is, admittedly, pretty fine.

"The Courtyard of a House in Delft" and fan

They had a few nice pieces by another Dutch guy who might catch on, too . . . name of Van Gogh?

"Snowy Landscape with Arles in Background"

And also a number of paintings by Rembrandt, including this one that reminds me a bit of me mum so I particularly like it:

"Aechje Claesdr"

It is quite possible Aechje was at the Tate; my files are a bit scrambled, but assuredly (well, I'm mostly sure), these were at National Gallery:

"Blue Beads" by John Duncan Fergusson

"The Water-Lily Pond" by Monet (surely one of several with that title?)

While there are a ton of other photos of art on my computer, surely it is time for a tea break. We'd talked about having a proper tea while we were in London and I went so far as to google "Where to have high tea in London" while we were still in Seattle, learning in the process that one can spend a godawful amount of money having a nice tea experience in the UK. But we didn't commit to any of those and also failed to plan ahead sufficiently to have a reasonably priced tea at Kenwood so when I saw that the restaurant associated with the National Gallery offered tea, I made a reservation. I figured we'd welcome a break since the National Gallery has a pretty extensive collection, and it turned out that I was quite right.

Pretty room, proper linen and china, decent tea, lovely food

What fascinates me, I've realized after our return, is that the tea is always loose--not in a teaball--in England. My assumption is that the tea interacts with the water more thoroughly if it's not enclosed, but how is it that the tea doesn't turn bitter? And who has the patience to clear all that loose tea out of the teapot before giving it a wash? Such are the mysteries with which I try to distract myself in these troubled times.

Van Gogh-themed desserts

The sandwiches, I have to say, were not quite up to my standard, but the desserts were lovely and delicious. There was also far too much to eat in one sitting so we ended up toting an elegant box of leftovers through the National Gallery as we did some more looking after the restorative tea break and then to the theater, but that's the fodder for yet another post.

The Royal Haymarket where we saw "Waiting for Godot"

London Art at Last!

 Largely for Alex, but also because I'm not sure I can actually continue with a day by day account of our time in London, this post will be dedicated to Art Seen. Art Photographed. With maybe a few diversions into Historical Artifacts Ditto and Stately Homes. Do let's just find out together, shall we? 

Okay, I've found out even if the Imaginary Reader has not. I've spent quite some time looking through the various photos of art from the trip and, by god, this post will be only Art and almost entirely only paintings and not really all of them either because, my goodness!, we saw a lot of fine art. Fair warning: we're pretty traditional in our artistic tastes, Scott and I, so don't look for anything more cutting edge than this one for which I take full credit:

"The Curator of His Own Misery" (On temporary loan to the Tate Modern)

 I'm not entirely sure why the Tate Modern was the first art museum we went to; neither of us are that into modern art.  You may not notice the scattering of a half dozen Bic pens under the text in the above photo, but that, with the verbiage, was the actual piece of art on display. It was a fine moment for us each to quote the bemused Principal Snyder ("I don't get it"). But there were some highlights: we watched a couple of excellent videos, especially Wael Shawky's depiction of the First Crusades using very old puppets. I was also taken with this modern Tower of Babel--google to find a video with sound for the full effect:

 

 

 

"Babel" by Cildo Meireles

I'm pretty sure this one was also at the Tate Modern:

"Fire! Fire!" by Enrico Baj

It was another day that we traveled by bus to get to Kenwood a few miles from our rental. It was our first time on a classic London bus so naturally we opted to sit upstairs--and we got the very front seats too. I quickly realized that the nightbus scenes in the Harry Potter movies were based on real life; it is astounding how tightly those buses corner and just how much it looks like they are going to crash into other vehicles and run over pedestrians. 

Kenwood House is a charming stately home. The staff are all volunteers and so nice that you could take them for Canadians. We came in partway through a talk about the William Larkin paintings they have (see "The Curtain Master" section here) and the volunteer was utterly fascinating. As we paused to admire Sir Edwin Landseer's "Hawking in  the Olden Times," Scott had an epiphany about "telling a hawk from a handsaw" that was good enough for me to want a close-up of the painting:

Hawk and henshaw in action

But of course the real reason for us to be at Kenwood at all was that it is home to a Vermeer. And sure, I'd seen it there once before, but that was a long time ago. There was a talk (about a Rembrandt, I think) going on in the room, but I mostly had eyes only for "A Girl with a Lute."

"Does my hair really look like from behind?"

 The amusing thing about the Vermeer is that Scott felt it was hanging a little bit crooked and he had to make quite the effort to stop himself from straightening it. We wandered about the grounds for a bit and saw another lovely English robin as we did so, but this post is about capital-A Art so I'm skipping right over that here.

 Joseph Mallord William Turner left the bulk of his paintings to the Tate Museum so, naturally, we needed to go there. I was asked recently what Scott's favorite part of the trip was and I said, "most likely the Rosetta Stone," but on reflection it was probably seeing so many of Mr Turner's works in person. Just as I've learned to love "JAWS," over the years I've become quite fond of Turner, but mostly I like to look at sections of his paintings so I took a lot of photos of snippets rather than the whole work. (In part because I assumed they'd have a ton of full-painting postcards in the gift shop. I was mistaken. When will I learn?) So, some Turners (I don't rule out the possibility of some of these being from the National Gallery which we visited on another day):

Scott admires one of Mr Turner's "Whalers" paintings

"The Shipwreck" by JMW Turner

Close-up of same

Snippet of "Whalers" by JMW Turner

 

A snippet from "Burial at Sea"

And the full "Burial at Sea"

 Some Turner sketches/watercolors that I quite liked:

 I can hear Polonius in my head--or at least I feel that I've been sat here for far too long--so I'm going to continue with yet more Real Art in a later post. Do stay tuned! (Is that expression soon to go the way of hawks and hensaws?)