Saturday, September 13, 2025
London
Touring Private Spaces on Day One of London’s Open House Festival Week
This year, I have the good luck of arriving and staying in London, purely by coincidence on Open House Festival Week—a week during which private spaces, usually closed to the public are opened, free of charge, for walking tours, lectures, demonstrations, etc. I had registered for many of the items before leaving Bombay and spent today, racing from one venue to the next, to take them all in. Some were more fascinating that others, but in general, I think I chose well.
Leaving Chelsea to See Battersea Arts Center:
I did not sleep at all last night—not one teensy-weensy wink! Blame the caffeine in the free coffee I picked up from Waitrose. No freebies for the wicked, it seems! Tossed and turned all night, then gave up at 5.00 am when I began blogging and sent a few photos to friends.
At 6.am, after trying again, I gave up finding sleep and, in frustration, got out of bed, showered, changed, had a make-shift breakfast in my room (finished my profiteroles—one craving out of the way—and brewed myself a cup of decaff coffee—yes, I carry my own supplies). I then left the house at 9.00am to start my journey to Battersea for the first item of the day on my London Open House Festival Week agenda.
I took the 14 bus and got off at Beaufort Street off Fulhan Road, then hopped into the 345 going crosstown across Battersea Bridge to Battersea. It’s on Lavender Hill and with the Transport for London website making it easy for me to find my way to any place I wish to go using public transport, from Point A to Point B, I did all my homework while lying sleepless and charted out my routes for the day. It took me about an hour and changing of two buses on a gloriously sun-drenched morning, to get to my destination.
Touring Battersea Arts Center:
This is a gorgeous red and white concrete and red brick Victorian structure, built in the heyday of gorgeous public buildings, in the mid-19th century when the national ethos (thanks to Prince Albert, Queen Victoria’s consort) was to encourage simple living and high thinking among the masses and the provision of community centers, free libraries, etc. became all the rage.
En route, just before I arrived at the building, I nipped into a charity shop and picked up the Season Three DVD of ‘Gavin and Stacey’ for 50 p. Unbelievable. I already own Seasons 1 and 2 and it is a favorite show.
This building is associated with the Suffragette Movement (its leader Emmeline Pankhurst did her research and held organizing meetings here); with fashion doyen Vivienne Westwood, a local Battersea girl, who sketched her vision for wearable fashion here; with Joanna Lumley who, as a rising star, in the 1970s, was in stage productions in its Main Hall; with Fleetwood Mac, who in the 1960s, performed on this stage, etc. It has a beautiful stained glass octagonal rotunda which carries a line from one of Shakespeare’s plays (Richard II)—Lord Bolingbroke and his family were aristocrats from Battersea. The Main Hall was badly burned in a 2015 fire and refurbishment is still going on although a wedding was to be held in it in the evening.
Architecturally, it follows the lines of most medieval Town Hals (the one in Oxford in simply magnificent), encrusted with plaster of Paris sculptures, stucco decorative skeins of flowers, etc. that are then painted over. This building is badly in need of refurbishment and it leaves the visitor aware of how difficult and expensive it is to maintain these heritage structures which would simply fall to seed, were it not for local fund-raising. I was the only visitor at that early hour of the morning and had the place entirely to myself. I did not spend long as, apart from the gigantic and very impressive ‘bridal descending’ kind of ballustraded staircase, it has nothing much to commend it.
Back on the Bus to Hammersmith:
My next port of call was Hammersmith on the banks of the Thames.—this is not an easy place to reach, at the best of times, as it is fully isolated and private and involves a long 15-20 minute walk from the closest bus stop or Tube station. I retraced my bus route from Lavender Hill in Battersea to the Fulham Road; from there, I boarded a 14 bus going towards Putney, then got off just a little ahead to take the 319 going to Hammersmith. It was another long-drawn out journey, but I love these bus rides as they show me London—not just the touristy bits but the real outlying city filled with real people, their homes, their places of work, pubs, shops, etc.
It was actually quite a good thing I was leaving the city center and heading to the periphery as a massive rally is to occur today at Parliament Square. It promises to be over 100,000 strong and has brought in right-wing conservatives, followers of Tommy Robinson, who are on a “United in Britain” campaign protesting corruption in government and, above all, current immigration policies. Had I stayed in Central London today, I would, no doubt, have been badly hampered by disrupted traffic and unprecedented hordes descending upon the city.
Hammersmith is a major commuting hub between the city and the suburbs. It has a famous bridge that spans the Thames in a most decorative way, a Tube station, a bus depot and several malls that always keep it heaving. I used my data package on my Iphone to find my way to my destination across a major street before finding Furnival Gardens and the tiny Dove Pub besides which the venue lies.
Visiting Kelmscott House, Hammersmith Home of William Morris:
My destination was Kelmscott House, home of William Morris. I have always been an enduring fan of William Morris—one of the most active members of the Pre-Raphaelite Group of artists that originated when they were undergrads at Exeter College, Oxford (my alma mater). I have visited, over the years, Morris’ homes all over the place: in Walthamstow where he was born and raised till age 12, then in the Red House in Bexleyheath which was a collaborative work of design and decoration with other members of the Group (Edward Burne-Jones, Dante Gabriel Rosseti, William Steath, etc), Kemlscott Manor (in Oxfordshire where he lived with his wife Jane and daughters, Jenny, May and Jane, a model of domestic bliss conceived in the highest traditions of the Aesthetic Movement--which the Group founded). Every time I have tried to visit this house, Kelmscott House in Hammersmith, it has been impossible (very limited visiting hours, out of-the-way location, etc.). So when I found that it was open, free of charge to visitors today, I wasted no time signing up.
Kelmscott House was packed—Morris has generations of fans, mainly women, who adore his designs in wallpaper, fabrics, tapestries, cushion covers, rugs, wall-hangings etc. Indeed. his designs have stood the test of time and because they are so distinctive, everyone can recognize them easily, once they know Morris’ style. Almost 200 years after he created them and marketed them through his Morris And Co. (which he co-founded with his friends), they continue to be produced and are highly in demand by interior decorators. I try to live myself by one of his famous adages: ‘Have nothing in your home that you do not believe to be beautiful or useful’. What a terrific law to live by (in our age of clutter and mindless acquisition)—a clear reaction, in his own time, to the Victorian tendency towards excess.
Once I reached the house, on a bracing day in late-summer, with joggers, walkers, dog trainers etc. milling along the Thames Path, with verdigris green Hammersmith Bridge nearby, I was ready to drop my heavy bag down and start drinking in the delights of the home Morris had occupied with his family overlooking his beloved Thames on what was then the outskirts of the city.
The home is entered through what is now the Reception Room cum museum cum shop. I was sorely tempted to buy two cushion covers for 23 pounds each, but I fought the urge and resisted. They featured his ‘Bird in Strawberry Bush’ design which is so quintessentially English that I adore it. The history of Morris’ highly checkered life is legion: his work as a designer, decorative artist, entrepreneur, businessman, printer, bookmaker (he founded the Kelmscott Press here and personally typecast and printed so many significant works of literature from this venue--including the Kelmscott Chaucer). All these milestones are painted on the walls, together with swathes of his wallpaper designs, his sayings and adages that record his highly instinctive and very distinctive principles of interior design and decorating, gardening, landscape layouts, etc. He was truly a Renaissance Man and he worked tirelessly. The legacy he has left behind is still fondly embraced as his designs have never fallen out of fashion. He debunked the Victorian ideal of decorating that focused on unlimited acquisition resulting in clutter. Instead he espoused a form of minimalism based on uniformity of vision and design. He embraced Nature fully and found endless inspiration in fruits and flowers, birds, insects, trees, leaves, etc. These are artistically rendered by him through his own cutting of wood cuts that because his printing blocks. It was just fascinating to have a refresher course, as it were, in the Pre-Raphaelite philosophy that I so love.
There is one tiny room behind the house that leads to the small garden outside (given for event hiring) and then one descends one short flight into the heart of the home. There is a main room with a beautiful fireplace, decorated with ceramic tiles of his own design, and snatches of information about his life and work on the walls. Moving further on, one enters the tiny room that was used as the Printing Press for the Kelmscott Press publications. Here, there was a printing demonstration in progress and I was able to see a small (by industry standards) press that is still very much in use. I understood, for the first time, why it is called a printing “press’—there is a massive lever one has to manually press down so that ink that is applied on the manually set typefaces with a roller creates the imprinted impression on paper inserted inside. I am actually not so young that I have not seen this form of manual printing done in India even in the 1970s when typesetting was a craft and imprints needed to be carefully proof-read so that any mistakes in the typesetting could be corrected. It is a fascinating bygone art form that has been replaced by mechanical and now digital forms of printing and publication. I chatted a bit with the printer who carried out a demonstration just for me alone before a large group of visitors followed.
I was simply delighted by my visit to this place and really happy that I finally made it inside and on such a significant day. I used the rest room before leaving, delighted to find Morris’ wallpaper all over the walls—indeed a lot of people use his wallpaper designs in small, contained spaces such as their powder rooms where they are seen at their best advantage as they could easily overwhelm larger rooms. My powder room in my Southport, Connecticut home, sports Morris wallpaper too.
Then, it was time for me to pick up my bag from the Reception Counter and move on. I was headed to Bloomsbury for lunch at the Brunswick Center and I knew I would be late (as I had not bargained for such a long, time-consuming walk to and from the Tube station when planning this day). I texted my friend and told him I would be late but he should go ahead and order.
On the Tube to Russel Square for Lunch at the Brunswick Center:
My Tube journey took more than half an hour, but I finally reached. My young friend, Vir, now an undergrad at the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS) in Bloomsbury, is studying International Relations there. He had been my student for four years of his final IB course (from Grades 9-12) in Bombay and we have grown into close family friends. His parents Monisha and Vivek are not close friends of Llew and me. When I discovered on a recent visit with Vir in Bombay (on his summer vacation) that Brunswick Center and the ‘Hare and Tortoise’ restaurant is one of his favorite places, I realized, we were kindred spirits and we made plans to meet. I love the fact that yesterday I lunched with one of my former NYU students (now a close friend, Elise) and today I was at lunch with another fairly-new and much younger student, Vir, who has become a good friend too.
Vir was waiting for me when I entered and had ordered sushi and a Penang Chicken Curry over steamed rice for himself. I never leave London without at least one meal at the H&T (as Vir told me it is known among his friends) and I always order the Curried Laksa which is one of my favorite things in the world to eat. I was slowly but surely ticking off all the To Eat Items on my London agenda.
Needless to say, the food was absolutely scrumps. I rarely eat sushi and when I do, I realize how much I love it. My laksa, of course, is every bit as delicious as I know it to be. Filled with chicken and seafood, noodles, dumplings, etc, in an incredibly flavorful spiced broth, it is my dream of comfort food. Vir and I chatted non-stop, like a pair of old pals, before he had to leave early to see the play, ‘The Devil Wears Prada’, with his parents who are vacationing with him in London at the moment. Sadly, I could not meet them, but we had just spent a whole evening together in Bombay last week. Vir left at 2.00 pm, leaving me to savor the last of my laksa before I too had to clear the bill and move on. The day was moving swiftly because I was trying to fit in as much as I could see on this Open House Day. Hence, I did not have a chance to browse around Brunswick Center, a place I love and used to frequent while I lived close by in Holborn—it has restaurants, shops, a supermarket (Waitrose) and a bunch of places that could allow one to easily pass an entire morning here.
Off to Lincoln’s Inn at Holborn:
I hopped back on to the Tube and a half hour later, I was at Holborn—this area is known to me like the back of my hand as I used to live here and it was very much my former stomping ground. I crossed Lincoln’s Inn Field on foot (supposedly haunted) and arrived at the ornate brick and concrete, tower-like gateway to Lincoln’s Inn (supposedly partly built by the Elizabethan playwright Ben Jonson who was a mason in his day job) which was simply packed with visitors. These places are out of bounds to the public—so everyone was snatching the opportunity to venture inside these exclusive spaces during this Week.
So for the Uninitiated: Lincoln’s Inn is one of the four Inns of Courts at Chancery (the other three are Middle Temple, Inner Temple and Gray’s Inn—my flat was just next door to Gray’s Inn when I lived in London). Dating from Medieval Times, when the study of the Law was in the hands of men who had taken Holy Orders), they were required to remain ‘in residence’ for four years in one of the Inns where they slept, ate, worshipped, did research, studied under senior lawyers, attended court as interns, kept chambers, etc. in order to be, eventually, ‘called to the Bar’. Lincoln’s Inn is the largest of the four Inns of Court and sports a series of stunning buildings designed in red and white materials that sport high towers, cupolas, domes, winding staircases, sprawling gardens, the whole works. It is a small settlement unto itself and carries its own unique culture. Hence, each of the Inns has a Main Dining Hall (students have to still eat a minimum of four meals in Hall during each semester—this is mandatory), a Chapel, a Library, a Crypt (or Undercroft). All of these buildings were open to us today and we had the chance to take a self-guided tour. There were beautiful flyers presented to each of us and using that as a guide, we surveyed the buildings, entered them, watched short films, listened to contemporary, multi-racial lawyers speak about their time as students in this venue, etc. It was all completely absorbing.
Touring Lincoln’s Inn:
Inside, most visitors are completely taken by the Main Hall. The medieval Hall had been destroyed in a fire and was rebuilt and redecorated in the 1880s when Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, had inaugurated it and declared it open. It sports beautiful murals and is stacked with oil portraits of many eminent lawyers who have passed through its doors—among them Prime Ministers Tony Blair and Margaret Thatcher and Pakistan’s Mohammed Ali Jinnah. (Gandhi was a resident in nearby, adjoining Middle Temple, and was called to the Bar from that Inn). It always fascinates me, when I walk through these corridors, that they were once inhabited by some of history’s most notable figures and to be in the same air that they breathed is a great joy to me. The Hall has a magnificent hanging pendant timbered ceiling and too many decorative elements to enumerate.
From there, I followed the walking tour route and arrived at the Library—a beautiful, two tiered room with another towering, timbered ceiling, dominated by the larger-than-life size sculpture of Lord Iskine in marble. Students use the library for reference and to pass their Bar Exams. I took in its many features before moving on.
To get to the Chapel, you need to pass through the Crypt, a beautiful structure with fan vaulting that dates from the Middle Ages. These buildings were first constructed in the 1400s—so they are many centuries old and have continued to maintain their functions and purpose while the modern city of London has completely enveloped them.
We climbed one flight of stairs to get to the Chapel upstairs. I have to say that I had been in this chapel before, many years ago, when I was wandering outside on the streets and a lawyer associated with the Inn, had offered to take me on tour and had showed me the chapel. I remember how privileged I had felt to have access to this building at that time.
Today, I joined scores of others as we took in the amazing stained glass windows on both sides of the chapel and the main window that is completely covered in glass with the coats of arms of all the worthies who served England well as they practiced and enforced the Law. These Victorian stained glass panels, of saints and holy Biblical men, were removed to preserve them during World War II when London was being mercilessly shelled during the Nazi Blitzkreig. They were saved and later replaced. Yes, services are held here every Sunday and there is always a resident preacher in attendance. In the 17th century, one of them was the Metaphysical poet, John Donne, who had preached here before taking on the position of Dean at nearby St. Paul’s Cathedral. His name is on the wall as one of the Preachers of this Chapel. The chapel also has a stunning pipe organ on which regular recitals are given. There are also beautiful old lights that produce a magically soft effect, very conducive to prayer. People were clicking pictures all over the place (as was I).
The final building to be seen was the Old Hall (a much smaller building) where meals are still taken and which sports more stained glass. I rested a bit on one of the dining chairs (all well carved and upholstered) before moving on. I needed to get to Temple—but I took the Tube, it would take me at least 45 minutes to get there. On my own two feet, I would reach in ten minutes—so walk I did.
Off to See the HMS Wellington:
The HMS Wellington, a white, small war frigate, is docked on the River Thames, close to the Temple Tube Station. It is now a restaurant but it had, at one time, played a massive role, in the winning for Britain, of World War II. It was already late in the day, so all we got was a quick look at the exterior. For a real tour that will cover the deck, the rooms below deck, etc., one can return tomorrow. I might not have the time as I have another packed agenda of Open Houses to see (these being in Hampstead).
By this point in time, it was 4. 00pm. I had a ticket to see a play at the West End—at Wyndham’s Theater near Leicester Square for the 7.30 pm show. Not having slept a wink last night, jet lag and fatigue had finally caught up with me and I felt ready to drop. I tried to think of where I could go to rest until the play began—my flat involves a four-floor walk-up that I am unwilling to undertake more than once a day. Hence, I called my friend Bande Hasan who lives at Paddington and asked if I could come and crash at his place for an hour’s nap as I badly needed it. He gladly agreed and told me that I did not even need to ask.
So off I went on the Tube’s Circle Line from Temple, got off at Paddington and walked seven minutes to his building. There, I just collapsed and was out for the count for a good one hour. When I awoke, after setting my alarm, he offered me a cup of tea, but I was still full from lunch and declined. Then, I collected my stuff and headed off.
Back on the Tube to Leicester Square:
I arrived at Leicester Square and found, to my utter delight, that my theater was literally adjoining the Tube exit. I was about half an hour early, so I collected my ticket from the box office and took a further rest on one of the sofas in the lobby. Eventually, fifteen minutes before the play began, I took my seat. I had a ticket to see ‘Born with Teeth’, a brand new play that opened only today and has yet to be reviewed. It caught my eye when I was looking at tickets, to buy from Bombay, because of its unusual theme.
So here’s the rub: the play is a two-man show featuring the playwright Christopher Marlowe (played by the Rwandan-Scottish actor, Ncuti Gatwa) and Shakespeare (played by Edward Bluemel). The premise is that, as two good friends and sometimes frenemies, they decide to collaborate on the writing of a play. It is 1551, they have great plays behind them already but still have to pay their bills. Believing that two heads will be more productive than one, they sit down to co-write a play. The result is fireworks between them, as personal history, egos, etc., get in the way. The play is stacked full of allusions to contemporary historical, religious and social going-on and includes frequent lines from the plays of both poet-writers. Yes, it was scintillating and the chemistry between the two of them was fantastic. Gatwa is a commanding stage presence and I can see that after a really successful stage and film career so far (he played the first non-white Dr. Who on TV and was most recently in ‘Barbie’), he is all set for a charmed career ahead of him. He has the looks, the build and the talent and he has already taken off. In fact, two days ago, I saw that his portrait is already hanging in the National Portrait Gallery—a sure sign that one has arrived.
I was dead tired and I have to admit that I actually nodded off during part of the play—but it was easy to pick up the threads again. It was all very unexpected. I had though that it would be constructed around the fictional concept of the two having actually written a play together that got lost to time. But this does not happen as the verbal sparring between them precludes any real productivity and the play remains unfinished. They received a standing ovation and I have to say that while I admire the premise behind it, it did not really grip me.
Back Home on the Bus to Chelsea/Fulham:
It was almost 9.00 pm when the play ended—it was a straight 90 minute run with no intermission. I took the Tube from Leicester Square station next door, got off one stop later at Piccadilly and then hopped into the 14 from there, going all the way to my stop. I had a short three minute walk to my building before I let myself in and was ready to collapse. I ate a sandwich on the bus which formed a makeshift dinner.
Back I my room, I got ready for the next day, brushed and flossed my teeth, spent a few minutes chatting with Helen and then simply crashed. I hoped very much that I would catch up with sleep and before I even finished sending off some pictures to friends, I faded off.
Until tomorrow, cheerio…
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