Tuesday, June 20, 2017
Richmond, London
Messin’ About on the River.
Today was devoting to getting out of the city of London
and messin’ about on the Thames. All
regular readers of this blog know that each time I am in London, I tick off one
more aspect of it that I have yet to uncover.
The area around Richmond, on the banks of the Thames is known for the
grand ‘country’ estates that were built in the 18th century by the nouveau riche. These are: Syon House,
Osterley House (and Park), Ham House, Marble Hill House and Strawberry Hill
House. Each is more interesting that the
other and every single one of them is different. Now, over the years, I have
seen them all—except the last. So, this day was devoting to ticking that item
off—viewing and visiting the Gothic Revival confection that was entirely the
brainchild of Horace Walpole, son of Robert Walpole, once Prime Minister.
Awake and Off:
Shahnaz and I awoke at 7.45—this meant that I could not
live up to my intention of attending the 8.00 am Mass at St. Paul’s
Cathedral—something I hope to do at least once while I am still based in
Holborn ( and not jet lagged). We did not waste too much time. Quick coffees in
our room followed by a hearty Indian breakfast of kheema parathas (made by Shahnaz’s cook and carried by her from
Bombay to India), saw us out the door by 9.15 am and walking to Holborn Tube station—only
to find that it was closed. We were advised to do the ten minute walk to Covent Garden and pick up the train from there. We rode it to Hammersmith from where
we took Bus No. 33 that deposited us at a stop called Shepherd Vale which was
just next door to the entrance to Strawberry Hill House. We reached there at 11. 15—which meant we had taken exactly two hours to get there by
public transport.
Exploring Strawberry Hill House:
As soon as you enter the premises, you are struck by the
white-washed exterior of what looks like a Gothic castle. Indeed, as Horace Walpole, designer and owner
of the property wrote, in a letter in 1750, “I am going to build myself a
little Gothic castle.” The Thames had not yet been ‘cannalized’ then. It was,
therefore, much wider than it is today and its waters practically lapped the
house. Not anymore. The river seems to have receded, a lot of Walpole’s
adjoining acres of property have been sold and are now privately owned and much
of his former acreage is built up. It is virtually impossible to gain even a
slight glimpse of the Thames from the house today.
Entry to the house and gardens (which includes a
self-guided tour and the services of voluntary docents in each room) is a steep
14 pounds. But it is, I believe, worth it—for you end up walking through the
rooms of a one-of-a-kind house that is as idiosyncratic and gimmicky as can be
imagined. We bought tickets and made our way into the ‘Discovery’ Room where a
short video on the history of the house and its ongoing restoration was
playing. Equipped with a little bit of knowledge, we began our tour.
What is Strawberry Hill All About?
Strawberry Hill House is pure indulgence:
it is the fantasy of a very wealthy man who could afford to give in to his
wildest whims. Using the services of the finest architects and artisans of the
period, he set about creating a home that he filled with his collections of art
and artifacts—from engravings and paintings to sculpture and ceramics. The
rooms themselves were, in his time, striking for their use of magnificent
decoration from plastered and papier
mache ceilings to heavily patterned damask wall-coverings. The windows are
filled with painted glass that he acquired from cathedrals and churches all
over Europe. Furniture was either in keeping with 18th century tastes or a
throwback from the Medieval past.
The
highlights of the house are the Library with its knights on horseback painted
on the ceiling and its bookcases designed with Gothic tracery--all painted
white--and the Long Gallery where the fan vaulted ceiling is made entirely of papier mache and heavily gilded. Fireplaces in the house are inspired by the
burial monuments of royalty in cathedrals all over the country from Westminster
Abbey to York Minster. One bedroom is remarkable for a heavily gilded picture
frame that was carved by the great Grindling Gibbons (a favorite artisan of
mine)—it is a portrait of Horace’s father Robert and his mother. This room also
contains a portrait of Horace Walpole—a reproduction of the original that is in
the National Portrait Gallery—and another of his best friend, the poet Thomas
Gray (who wrote the famous Odes including the one in the Country Churchyard).
As
the docents in each room kept telling this, this is a ‘theatrical’
home—everything about it is so dramatic that it was meant to stop you in your
tracks. It was also meant to be a place of illusions: what you think is
plaster, is paper. What you think is marble is a compound. The only room
designed by Robert Adams, for instance, has a fireplace inspired by Florentine pietra dura: white marble that is inlaid
with what looks like semi-precious stones, but is, in fact, another compound.
There is a room called the Tribune which was actually once a consecrated
chapel—when Roman Catholics set up a monastery in the house. Indeed, the house
has gone through several avatars: it
was a residence, a printing press (Horace Walpole founded the Strawberry Hill
Press here), it was a writing retreat (he wrote his novel The Castle of Otranto in this house), it was a monastery.
It takes a good two hours to see the house if you wish to
linger in each room, read all curatorial notes and listen to every anecdote
that docents are eager to share about the home and its eccentric owners. It is
also a tiring two hours and by the time we were done, we were beat. We wished
we could have wandered through the gardens that are in their summer glory at
the moment—but we have arrived in London while the UK is going through a nasty
heat wave. Although it was not quite as awful today as it was yesterday, we
were still uncomfortable when we were moving. Nibbling on granola bars (as we
were also very hungry by 1.30 pm), we found our way to the bus and got off at
St. Margaret’s (just before we arrived on Richmond Bridge).
Scouring Thrift Stores for more DVDs:
St. Margaret’s is one of those upscale Thames-side
villages that have an elite population that make superb contributions to their
local charity shops. It is a good place to shop for all sorts of goodies and
today, I hit the jackpot when I found a pure silk, genuine Cartier scarf that
retails for no less than $350 in a thrift store for 8 pounds! I also found so
many really great European TV series such as The Killing (the entire First Season for a pound) and Friday Night Dinner. As we drifted from
one store to the next, Shahnaz too found all sorts of trinkets to carry back to
Bombay. Had I the space and the need for one, I would have grabbed a beautiful
Italian leather designer bag for just 45 pounds! But this is the sort of thing
that I have to sadly let pass.
Lunch in Richmond at Wagamama:
Crossing Richmond Bridge on foot (the oldest bridge on
the Thames and a prototype for so many stone bridges across the country), we
arrived at Richmond Town Center. But not before we took pictures of the
beautiful Embankment with its lovely waterfront buildings and its steps leading
to the banks. Once on The Quadrant, the high street with all the shops, we
arrived at Wagamama and Shahnaz
decided we would have lunch there.
Nothing was more welcome on the blistering day (although,
thankfully, there was a breeze playing) than the large bottle of Asahi beer
that she suggested we order: we split it and drank deeply of its cooling
contents. We then scoured the menu for something else we could share and found
the new Pad Thai Salad. This had no resemblance at all to traditional Thai Pad
Thai (which we both love), but it was hearty (studded liberally with chicken
and prawns) and it was absolutely delicious with its sweet sour dressing and
sprinkling of fried shallots and peanuts.
Climbing Richmond Hill:
Fortified with our delightful lunch, we marched ahead
towards the next item on our agenda: the climb up towards Richmond Hill to see
the famous View of the Thames from the peak. It is a very gentle slope which
did not make for a very strenuous climb. At the top, we looked out over
Petersham Meadows to the tranquil spot where the Thames forms a sort of
horse-shoe as it curves around a small island. Many painters including Turner
and Constable were inspired to paint this view in different seasons. We took
many pictures from this vantage point and gratefully sank down on one of the
benches overlooking the meadows and the river.
Had we more time and had the heat not been quite so
enervating, we would have carried on walking towards Richmond Park with its
famous herds of deer. Instead, Shahnaz suggested we start back: I had to get
off at Knightsbridge to pick up my phone from Chelsea and then had the dinner to
attend which would kick off our Colloquium activities tomorrow.
Journey Homewards:
Going downhill was, of course, much easier on our feet
and lungs and in no time, we were back on The Quadrant waiting to board a bus
to Hammersmith. It came in no time and off we went. From buzzing Hammersmith, the
Piccadilly train line took us eastwards into the city. I got off at
Knightsbridge, easily got a hold of my phone from Jimmy the Porter, at my
friends’ building in Chelsea, and took the Tube back to Holborn.
In
less than an hour, I was back in my hotel room, getting my clothing ready and
taking a shower. I left the hotel half an
hour later and arrived in time for the dinner.
Dinner with NYU Colleagues at Hubbard and Bell:
The venue chosen for our dinner that would kick off our
London Colloquium was Hubbard and Bell,
a lovely restaurant near the Holborn Tube Station end of High Holborn where we
were assigned a large private ‘apartment’—read Private Party Room. There were a
few people already present when I arrived and within minutes, I found a gin and
tonic in my hand—tinkling with ice and spiked with a twist of lemon. Nothing could
be more refreshing in the heat. After much socializing and meeting with a lot
of my colleagues from New York and a number of new faces (colleagues from other
NYU satellite sites such as Florence, Paris, Washington DC, Berlin, Accra and
Buenos Aires), we settled down at long tables to partake of a wonderful meal.
Large communal platters of starters including crab
crostini, crisps with hummus and pesto and a green salad. Mains included cod in
a lemon sauce, roasted broccoli jazzed with chilli flakes, bavette steak with
potato gnocchi and more salad. Dessert was pistachio profiteroles, a chocolate
and passion fruit roulade and a cheese board with fruit. How absolutely charming! Wine did generous
rounds as we had a fruitful first exchange with old friends and new ones. It
truly could not have been a more congenial gathering.
And so ended another exciting day in London. Back in my
room, I reviewed my presentation for tomorrow and sat down to scribble this
blog.
Until tomorrow, cheerio…
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