An Art Obsessed Day in London: Visits to 575 Wandsworth Road, London Art Biennale, Wallace Collection, National Gallery

An Art Obsessed Day in London: Visits to 575 Wandsworth Road, London Art Biennale, Wallace Collection, National Gallery

Friday, July 28, 2023, London

Waking in my Favorite City in the World:

There is something super special about waking up in London--no matter which part it might be. This time it is Battersea, on a very quiet side street called Candahar Road off Battersea Park Road. My friend Sarah makes me ultra comfortable with a breakfast that I have always loved: muesli with yogurt (it’s my favorite, Greek Yoghurt with honey) and good strong coffee made in her snazzy Nespresso machine. I had showered earlier as jetlag woke me up at 4.30am. It left me ample time to blog, shower, dress, plan my day and enjoy the quiet of the morning before frenetic activity would engulf me.

I was out of her home by 8.30am to keep my first appointment: I had a private tour scheduled with Laura who runs the National Trust property that is simply known as 575 Wandsworth Road. I jumped into the 345 bus, got off at Clapham Junction, then from across the road I took the 87 bus, got off at St. Rule's Road where, just a few steps away, was my destination.

Visiting 575 Wandsworth Road:

There is nothing to announce how special this property, run by the National Trust for the past ten years, actually is. Getting tickets is quite impossible as the home is small, its contents fragile and only groups of six are allowed in at one time. I was fortunate to have none but the Director, Laura, offer me a private tour and introduce me to Nora, the lovely assistant who runs the place with her.

Kadambhi Asalache was a Kenyan-born poet, writer, artist, wood carver and member of the British Civil Service. He arrived in London in the 1960s from Kenya and lived until 2004. He bought the house in Clapham and, quite by accident, developed an interest in wooden fretwork, which he spent the last 25 years of his life carving. Using seasoned pine, he traced out and drilled patterns in wood that he then carved to create panels that he used to decorate the ceilings, walls, furniture in his home--indeed, later, he even designed furniture to suit the aesthetics of his home.

The end result is a fascinating receptable of his art and craftsmanship that leaves the visitor's jaw hanging. He bequeathed his property to the National Trust who then lavished time, attention, money and thought on the project before opening it up to the public. In addition to making his hobby a decorative obsession, he was an inveterate collector and the home is filled with his collection of antiques including lusterware, ceramics, bottles, dishes, ink stands, you name it. Photography is strictly prohibited in the house--which is why the astute visitor must commit everything to memory--a pretty tall task in a home where there is no visual respite for the saturated eye. I can only urge anyone interested in art, antiques, decorative collecting hobbies, architecture and interior design to make a beeline for the home. You will not be disappointed, even if, like me, you will spend about 45 minutes on buses to get there. You will traverse much of Wandsworth, Lambeth and Clapham and end up awed at the nondescript corner of London that is endowed with the artistic genius of a single man who lived with his partner Suzie Thompson, also an artist, to create a space that is mind-bogglingly beautiful.

On the Bus and Tube Into Central London:

Based on the advice I received from the charming, hospital, generous and lovely staff members at 575 Wandsworth Road, I jumped into a bus from the opposite side of Wandsworth Road going to Vauxhall from where I picked up a packet of Belgian Chocolate and Hazelnut Biscuits from Waitrose (as my tummy was already rumbling, if you can believe it) and jumped into the Tube to Victoria. I had an errand to run at the Visitor Center from where I picked up a very large map of London before trying to find the usual Travelex window counter at which I have always exchanged my dollars for pound sterling. Alas, that place has closed down. I had to keep my eye open for the next available exchange place.

Into the Tube I hopped at Victoria and got off two stops later at Slone Square. I had a lunch appointment with my friends on Sloane Street but since I had time to kill, I indulged in one of my favorite passtimes: scouring high street charity shops for British DVDs, vintage jewelry and silk scarves. I found Downton Abbey: The Movie for just one pound in one shop on the King's Road which I scoured by jumping in and out of the 22 bus as it made its way to Putney. I know exactly where my favorite of these shops is...but I have to say that prices have skyrocketed ever since the pandemic. I saw a non-designer silk scarf for 40 pounds and a Balengiaca one for 60 pounds. With not too much luck in thriftware, I decided to stop off at Chelsea Town Hall.

Visiting The Annual Art Biennale at Chelsea Town Hall:

I can never pass up an art show when it looks me in the eye--and so there I was entering the gorgeous interior of tChelsea Town Hall with its Baroque decorative touches--in a way, the exhibition gave me an excuse to see a building into which I had never before entered. Inside, there was enthralling work of unequal interest and quality. A few canvasses caught my eye and they were not wildly expensive. For instance, for under 2000 pounds, the discerning art lover could well have walked away with stunning portraits, lovely oil painted landscapes and still lives. I was only there to appreciate, of course, because even had I a spare few thousand pounds in my pocket, I have no wall space left to display any more art work! But a portrait of Putin done with thousands of tiny, plastic colorful skulls was interesting as were a couple of amazing portraits of the city. I did not spend too much time here as the hour had come for me to make my way to my lunch appointment.

Having Lunch with Chelsea Friends:

My friends Michael and Cynthia live in a lovely flat on Sloane Street and every time I walk through the door, I feel as if I have come home. They are my closest friends (almost family) in London (Cynthia and I think of ourselves as sisters) and they are always the epitome of warm hospitality. Lunch of Grilled Salmon with Boiled New Potatoes, Green Beans and Fried Courgettes tes with Stewed Fruit and Ice-Cream gave us a chance to catch up on the last 14 months (which was when I last saw them). None of us know where time flies as we gab on talking about our families, activities, mutual friends, etc. About three hours after I had a delicious meal at their home, I was reedy to soldier on. I always wonder when I will see them next...but I am optimistic. I was lucky to catch them both in London, given that they are off on a cruise next week!

Stopping at a Favorite Shop and a Favorite Church:

As I made my way back to John Lewis department store to catch my bus to my next port of call, I sighed at the mess that is Sloane Street, at the moment. In a multi-million pound refurbishment (an attempt, Cynthia said, to make it even more posh), they are widening the road and making most of it a pedestrian plaza. For the moment, it means inconvenience for residents and visitors alike. However, walking towards the bus stop took me into one of my favorite stores in the world, Jo Malone, where I met the lovely shop assistant called Ruby and spent some time discussing my favorite fragrances with her. I left with a bunch of samples (Oh Goody Gumboots!) and a promise to return to the store soon.

I then found myself passing by Trinity Church on Sloane Square which I know has one of the most staggering stained glass windows by none other than one of my favorite artists, the Pre-Raphaelite, Edward Burne-Jones. Of course, I had to step inside to see it again and to spend a few moments in a prayer of gratitude at the opportunity that has brought me back to spend a week in London. I took pictures, chatted with a member of a choral group that has a recital rehearsal going on and then took my leave.

On the Bus to Bond Street:

Ny next port of call was Bond Steet from where I intended to walk down Great Marlborough Street to get to the Wallace Collection. I had not visited it last year when Llew and I had spent two weeks in London. Hence, I was due for another visit.

The long bus ride in the 22 bus took me down Piccadilly and into Regent's Street and then Oxford Street where I got off and walked to Bond Street Station. There I found a place where money exchange was done and knowing that it would be a while before I could find another place, I got my dollars exchanged. Mission Accomplished, I used my map and walked along James Street to get to Manchester Square where the grand Baroque Building that houses the personal art collection of the Dukes of Hereford cam be found.

Visiting the Wallace Collection:

I discovered that the museum had a special exhibition called ‘Portraits of Dogs in Art’ and I was granted a free entry pass (based on my Metropolitan Museum ID card--saving me 16 pounds!). The exhibition is small and sweet and introduced me to a vast number of dog portraits down by Edward Landseer (who designed the huge bronze lions at Trafalgar Square), as well as a large number of portraits of his two daschunds, by the modernist David Hockney who took solace in their presence as he went through a crisis. It was a wonderful visit and I am glad I stopped by.

Of course, I could not leave the Wallace without looking at my favorite works there: I adore Miss Bowles and Her Dog by Joshua Reynolds, but this time my eye was caught by an adjoining work called Strawberry Girl also by Reynolds. Portraits of children by Greuse always enchant me in this space. Of course, I also saw The Swing by Fragonard, The Laughing Cavalier by Franz Hals, Nicholas Poussin's Dance to the Music of Time (which seemed much smaller than I remembered it--I believe a much larger version is at the Met in New York), Canaletto's depictions of the Grand Canal, Hobema's wonderful Dutch landscapes, portraits by Rembrandt of himself and his son, Titus, Pieter de Hooch's Woman with Boy and Bread (I just love his Flemish domestic scenes), the endless 18th century work of Francois Boucher which seems to cover every wall with buxom women and fat cherubs in idyllic pastoral settings and, of course, the vast (and I mean, vast) collection of painted European porcelain (of which I can never tire).

I managed to finish all of this grand spectacle of ostentatious wealth before I left the place when it closed at 5.00 pm and walked back to the Tube Station. It was an intensely satisfying visit.

Off to the National Gallery for Late Evening Closing:

When in London, I always make sure I spend Friday evening at the National Gallery as I am aware that they are open until 9 pm on this day of the week. The Tube (Central Line to Northern Line) got me there in about 20 minutes and by 5.30 pm, I was walking through the door of the special exhibition entitled "After Impressionism: Modern Art Begins' for which I had obtained a ticket online.

Inside, as expected, I found myself staring at many works for the first time by Cezanne, Van Gogh, Sisley, Pisarro, Seurat, etc. as well as work by lesser-known artists (at least to me) such as Paul Serusier, Maurice Dennis, etc. It ended up being a most interesting show as it brought us all the way to the work of Picasso whose aesthetic was decidedly influenced by his virtual guru, Cezanne. I also enjoyed works by Klimt including a lesser-known portrait of Adele Blauch-Bauer (the Woman in Gold is far better known).

I thought I would use the next few hours more wisely than by simply going back to say Hello to my favorite canvasses. Hence, I popped into Crivelli's Garden by the late Portuguese-British artist, Paula Rego, who took one of my favorite canvasses in the Gallery—a painting by Carlo Crivelli--to present her interpretation of it when she had been appointed first artist-in-residence at the National in 1990-91. The result is a simply long stretch of wall that presents her take on Crivelli's original vision. In the background are the blue and white tiles of her native Portugal and in the foreground, a number of human figures representing scenes from the Bible, Mythology and modernism. She used as her models the working staff of the gallery (so lucky to be immortalized for posterity through the hands of one of Britain’s best-known artists). It did not take me too long to inspect the work carefully and move on.

Next on my agenda was a visit to the ‘St. Francis of Assisi’ exhibition that is contained within about eight rooms, all of which trace the life of the saint and his huge impact on artists through the ages. From the Italian Sasetta to works by Zurbaran (deeply moving) and Murillo all the way up to the very contemporary work of Modernists, the exhibition took me back to my own visit to Assisi where I had become fully acquainted with the fascinating life of this most beloved of Catholic saints.

I then spent some time on retail therapy and found some jewelry I rather liked that I picked up as gifts for friends in the US. By this time, I was hungry and sat and ate two of my cookies which kept me going. I also needed to rest my feet and my back which had started to ache by this point.

E

njoying A Lebanese Dinner with Rosemary:

My good friend Rosemary with whom I was in touch told me that she would meet me at about 8.30 pm at the Gallery and we did meet when it was closing and we were all being thrown out. We hugged and laughed at the misunderstanding that caused us to meet 20 minutes later than expected, but then walked briskly to Piccadilly from where we took the 19 towards Battersea. It was Roz's idea that we eat dinner at a Lebanese place called Al-Phoenicia from where we could take a cab for the short ride back to her home and her sister Sarah's home (where I would be for a couple of days).

The long bus ride and dinner gave us a chance to catch up. At the other end of Battersea Bridge is the restaurant where we sat with mezzes such as moussaka, lamb kibbeh and fattoush salad over glasses of red and rose wine to enjoy a relaxing evening that started the weekend for her. I will be staying with Roz for a few nights early next week and, no doubt, we would do much more catching up then.

On a day that was cool in the morning and warm in the afternoon, I was grateful to have my cardigan with me as it turned nippy again after sunset. We found a cab and, as decided, Roz dropped me off to her sister's place. I bid her goodbye and knew that I would see her again soon.

At home, I saw Sarah briefly to wish her goodnight and tell her about my plans for tomorrow (Oxford).

Then I went up to my room, got myself ready for bed and for my day trip tomorrow. I had left the house at 8.30 am and returned at 11. 15 pm after what had been an art-obsessed day. No wonder I crave my visits to London—among other things, they provide me with my annual art fix!

Until tomorrow...