Showing posts with label Spain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Spain. Show all posts

Saturday, 25 February 2012

Return to Madrid

You'll be forgiven for thinking I had fallen off the face of the planet or something, not having posted anything since the New Year. 2012 has already been totally mad - and will continue to be until May at the earliest - and while I have often thought of blogging about something, there has always been a pressing deadline which has meant it was not to be.

Statue in honour of The Arts, erected by Queen Isabel II in the Plaza de Oriente

I am now in Spain - Madrid to be precise, having come from Granada on Thursday night where I was participating in a conference on Alhambrismo connected with the Owen Jones exhibition I co-curated, which closes at the Alhambra on 28 February and has received more or less 100,000 visitors! I am participating in another conference here in Madrid on Monday and Tuesday - this time on Islamic textiles - so preparing two conference papers and Powerpoints at the same time, on totally different subjects, neither of which I feel I am a specialist in, rather took it out of me before I came.

But I decided to take advantage of the few days in between the two conferences to revisit the city which was my home town for a year, back in 1999-2000, when I was based here for my research 'fieldwork' while working on my PhD. I have not come back to Madrid many times since then, and always too briefly alas, but I always feel quite emotional coming back, and it is always nice - and a little bit odd - knowing so well a city that you do not live in.

Today I just walked. I always used to do that when I was living here, to discover new neighbourhoods and soak up the feel of each place. I love urban walking. I am staying in the cheap and cheerful and appropriately named Hostal Dulcinea in Calle Cervantes (ha ha) in the 'Barrio de las Letras' (where all the streets are named after important Spanish writers), which is very close to where the department of the Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas where I was based used to be (about 10 years ago it moved miles out of the centre of town). So this is the area I used to wander around. The weather is also totally amazing - cold when the sun is not shining, but in the 20s C during the day! It feels like spring though the Spanish are worried as there has been no rain for months.

After a brief desayuno I followed old paths to the Plaza de Oriente and the Palacio Real, which is always an impressive view, especially in the sun, then down to the Plaza de España and stopped for a couple of hours at the Museo Cerralbo, the stunning house-museum constructed and decorated in the late 19th/early 20th century by an important Spanish noble family - so very indicative of elite taste for collecting and display at that era. I hadn't been there before but it was brilliant, and very well presented.

The impressive grand staircase at the Museo Cerralbo

The ballroom, with paintings by Juderías Caballero from 1891-2 on themes of dance throughout history

After a quick stop at the nearby Temple of Debod - given to the Spanish state by the Egyptians in the 1960s (!) - I walked down to the lovely Ermita de San Antonio de la Florida, the little elegant 18th-century chapel decorated with a cycle of beautiful frescoes by Goya as well as the artist's resting place.

Next to it is famous Casa Mingo, an Asturian sidreria which specialises in amazing roast chicken! I was not the only one who had had the idea to have lunch there on a sunny Saturday and I had to queue for about half an hour for a table! I could have got a table quicker outside, in fact, but chose to stay inside for the full cacophonous experience of Casa Mingo when it's busy - fantastic!

The menu board at Casa Mingo framed by hundreds of bottles of sidra!

I couldn't finish my chicken and needed a walk afterwards so it was just as well I had planned to walk along the riverbanks of the Manzanares, which has very recently been totally landscaped with parks and playgrounds and interesting bridges and other activities, and again it was full of people out enjoying the weather. I don't think I ever came down to the river when I was living in Madrid - there was nothing here, certainly no walks to do. Now it is a real pleasure, which great vistas of the Madrid skyline on either side.


There are such regular bridges that I kept criss-crossing to get different views. The landscaping has also incorporated Madrid's two historic bridges into the parks - the Puente de Segovia built by Philip II, and the 18th-century Puente de Toledo, which is now totally pedestrianised.

The Puente de Segovia with Madrid Cathedral in the background (coincidentally, built on the site of the Great Mosque when Madrid was an Islamic town in the medieval period!)

I walked for about 3km (there are handy markers in the pavement), all the way along to the Puente de Toledo, then left the river and wound my way through the streets around Lavapiés and Atocha, to go and see the new extension at the Reina Sofia - I didn't go in but I can tell you that it was big and red and slightly unrealistic in that way that impressive modern structures sometimes are.

Then I headed to the Prado. I hadn't been there for years and considering I had already been walking all day, I wasn't sure how good an idea this was, but I wanted to see its not-so-new extension as well, revisit some paintings there, as well as go and see the 19th-century paintings that the extension has allowed them to display. I got there at 5.30 and was dismayed to discover an enormous queue - forming ready for the free entry that kicks off at 6pm. I got in ahead of the crowds with my ICOM card. The museum was already busy but a few minutes after 6 it was heaving! They had to close off the gallery where an early and accurate copy of the Gioconda by a student of Leonardo da Vinci has just gone on display after a major restoration project - I hadn't realised it is only up for a few weeks so that makes more sense of the total craziness of the crush of people that gathered round it, somewhat like the original in the Louvre, and then later on the gallery was totally closed off and you had to queue to get in to see it. Ironic, since at the Leonardo exhibition in London recently, no-one was at all interested in any of the works by Leonardo's students!

I left the Prado when it closed at 8, swept along in the crowd back to nearby Dulcinea to rest my feet for a little bit and check my email (Dulcinea has free wifi but the connection has been really weak the last few days and I haven't been able to get online recently - it is quite strong this evening so I decided to take advantage and have a blog!). I was thinking about going to eat at another old haunt - yesterday I went for cod fritters at Casa Labra just off Sol, and then for pimientos de padrón at Viña P in Plaza Santa Ana, both old favourites - but then I thought I would try something new: a little place I had passed last night on Calle Lope de Vega, that had a really nice look to it and reminded me of all the little places that have been opening up in Brixton.


This is La Mojigata and it was lovely - everything home made, all the bread and cakes home baked, all the ingredients responsibly sourced and ecológico, and what's more something different, fresh rather than the fried food that tapas often is. I had a sort of risotto made of whole rice with wild mushrooms, and a salad of red endives with strawberries and rocket - delicious!! And a really nice atmosphere - so this is a definite restaurant recommendation if you are coming to Madrid! But it is very small - it only seats 17 - so you made need to book to ensure you get a table!


So Madrid is the same but different - reassuringly familiar and happily still buzzing, despite 'la crisis' which is also on everyone's tongue. It always comes up in conversation, as does the fact that there are no jobs. There are more people sleeping in the streets or begging than there were before, many shops closed or closing down, people wandering around Puerta del Sol offering to buy gold. A lot of graffiti against the banks, and there was going to be a demonstration in Plaza Lavapiés this evening. But it's still great to be here and I plan to make the most of enjoying it for the next few days!

Tuesday, 21 June 2011

Book launch

I thought I would rather shamelessly share with you some photos of my book launch in Seville a few weekends back.


It was K's birthday weekend as well as a bank holiday on the Monday so we made a long weekend of it, and had a really lovely time. Just got sent these shots last week from colleagues at the Fundación Tres Culturas who organised the whole thing (they financed the Spanish translation of my book). It was part of one of those flat-pack book fairs that take over a whole plaza, that seem to be so common in Spain and which I have often wandered around and bought books from, so it was weird to be part of one myself.




They want to arrange some more in the autumn so I'll be an old hand at this soon.

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I am not keeping up with this blog these days - too much going on and I just feel tired a lot of the time (not helped by the horrible weather that seems to be gripping the UK this last month). One day soon I hope to finally sort our photos from the Central Asia trip (before I forget what they all are) and post them on Flickr, and post a few reports and stand-out anecdotes... We're seeing some of the friends we made on that trip this weekend so that will be an incentive, hopefully, to reminisce about it here.

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We finally watched Avatar on DVD. What a terrible film! I think we missed about 75% of the point by not watching it on a massive IMAX-sized screen in 3D. It's an effects film which doesn't transfer to the small screen. Can't believe it's one of the highest grossing films of all time, but thank goodness it didn't get the Oscar (though from what I remember about The Hurt Locker I am not sure that deserved it either - but hey it's politics). Not a patch on The Shadow Line - finally a British show good enough in terms of its writing and acting to stand up to the best of the American and European dramas we have been getting here recently. And with the lovely Chiwetel Ejiofor to boot! Catch it while it's still on iPlayer!

Sunday, 22 May 2011

I know, I know...

We got back from our Trip Of A Lifetime 3 weeks ago and I haven't blogged about it, or anything else for that matter, yet. Life, which is to say, work, and not exactly our 9-5 work but more the things we do on top of that - the Festschrift volume I am (supposedly co-)editing, unexpectedly having to check the proofs of an article submitted aeons ago, a symposium paper demanding I know a bit more than I actually did about Mediterranean trade (though I did get to meet the amazing Claudia Roden!), a lecture to write for the upcoming launch of the Spanish translation of my book at the Seville Book Fair next weekend - has all rather got in the way. I think I am going to have to blog about The Trip bit by bit - bite-sized chunks with pictures and anecdotes of each the places we went to. I still haven't had the chance to properly sort through my photos - I took 4000!! (I even killed a camera) K took 6000, so there's a bit of a job to do. But we survived, and the trip was fantastic, exhausting, eye-opening, frustrating... but more on all of that to come.

Photo © KR

Since getting back we have also been playing hard, finding ways to make the most of summertime London. The May Day bank holiday weekend saw the grand opening of the restored Brixton Windmill - yes, there is a windmill in Brixton! Built in 1816, it was surrounded by open fields - the Friends of Windmill Gardens (the local community force that has been behind the restoration) were selling an amazing postcard, showing Brixton Hill in the 19th century, when it was a Constable-esque rural idyll! But as the city gradually extended further south and the area became more built up, there was less wind to feed the windmill, and it fell into disuse and then disrepair in the 20th century. It's taken this local group 15 years to get the money together to restore the windmill, but now it's going to be open at regular weekends and is even going to grind flour supplied by local people growing wheat on allotments and in gardens! Brilliant!

Photo © KR

It was a lovely sunny bank holiday as well and loads of families were out enjoying themselves and some of the entertainment that was laid on - our friend Lisa took some lovely colourful people-watching photos which you can see here.

That same week we also went to see Gilbert and Sullivan's Iolanthe at Wilton's Music Hall, this wonderful gem of a Victorian Music Hall that survives in the middle of an urban wasteland in the City of London - not only was it a fantastic production (all male, and the campest thing I have ever seen!), but it made total sense of the space, the kind of performance you would originally have gone to Wilton's to see. Fantastic. Next day we had an OJADS visit to Kensal Green Cemetery - one of our colleagues, Glenn, is a Friend of Kensal Green and arranged for their chief guide and knowledgeable historian to take us on a guided tour, picking out particularly famous Victorians, but above all of course we were there to make a pilgrimage to the grave of Owen Jones.


Kensal Green is where anyone who was anyone wanted to be buried, and there are some very grand tomb monuments, but it is also just an amazingly atmospheric place. We started off in the Crypt, which you can only visit on the occasional guided tours, but which Victorian Londoners used to come and visit as one of the city's attractions. It is now rather macabre, with mouldering lead-lined coffins and ceramic flower displays, and incredibly cold. Chilling, in fact.



Henry, our guide around the historic tombs of Kensal Green, in front of the grave of the Brunel family of engineers

Then yesterday we had a fantastic day exploring south London. We signed up for one of the architectural walking tours that Open City - as the Open House team are now calling themselves - have started running. This one was focused on 'South London Regeneration', all about the huge building projects that have been going up around Southwark in recent years, making it one of the most exciting areas in London in terms of contemporary architecture as well as bringing new life and vibrancy into a formerly industrial area that had been largely neglected as London developed in all other directions. This also means that a lot of industrial buildings and 18th-century residential areas survive more here than in other parts of London, which were aggrandised into the Squares which characterise parts of the north.

Photo © KR

The most controversial/well-known of the new projects is The Shard at London Bridge, which will be the tallest skyscraper in western Europe when it is finished! It completely dominates the London skyline these days - for a long time it was just a gigantic concrete column, but as soon as they started cladding it with the glass structure that makes it look like an angled, broken shard of glass, you can see and recognise it from everywhere. It is even starting to hide the Gherkin which for the last 8 years has been an iconic profile on the London skyline. I don't think I had been so close to the Shard before - it really is too big to believe.

Our guide was a great character, a rather eccentric Irishman (?), he was an architect himself and had worked for many of the companies that had created these great building projects. He also had a fantastic habit of getting down on the ground and drawing architectural plans or diagrams in chalk on the pavement - loved that idea!

Photo © KR

We went with our wonderful Sicilian friend Rosa, who lives in Bermondsey, so after the official walking tour had ended - at the soon-to-be-destroyed monumental, brutalist Heygate in Elephant & Castle (there's a really interesting article on this failed social housing experiment here) - she took us on a walking tour of her own, starting with a fabulous late lunch at The Garrison on Bermondsey Street, then around the riverside and the wonderful old wharf buildings, which are now gorgeous apartment blocks. The bridges between buildings along Butler's Wharf are now people's gardens, but once were there for barrows carrying tea, spices and other goods which had just been off-loaded at the docks.

Photo © KR

Bermondsey is also known for its antiques trade and we ended up at the massive antiques warehouse under the railway arches near Tower Bridge. This was partly an exploratory mission, as we're still figuring out what we're doing in the new flat (see below), but we also knew we wanted some new kitchen chairs - and hurrah! we found some! Four very nice antique (1930s?) dark, hard wood chairs with very nice detailing (a sort of medieval pan-Mediterranean design on the backrest) for a not outrageous sum. A chair-laden taxi ride back to Brixton to get them home. They fit our dining room table excellently well and we're very chuffed with them.

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Since getting back we have also been trying to dedicate ourselves to settling in and sorting out the flat - as K so rightly put it, we need to be as organised and efficient about this as we were about moving out of the old flat. Trouble is, we're realising we haven't really left ourselves time for this! But gradually over the last weeks we have been meeting the immediate neighbours - upstairs, next door, and most importantly downstairs, since these guys were playing their music rather too loudly late at night and we needed to have a sit down with them to work it out. Fortunately it was all very reasonable - we had been afraid it might turn into a massive issue, and it was the only thing that was making us feel less than comfortable and at home in our new place - and since then we haven't heard a peep out of them after hours.

K has put up some shelves in the study (let us not dwell on the fact that he ended up cutting them each 10 cm too short, so we are not quite maximising the space in the way we had intended!), and I have planted a window box and some herb seeds - very excitingly the rocket seeds are already sprouting crazily, and there is also some activity from the thyme, though the others are all still keeping themselves to themselves in their little soil beds. We have even conquered our bourgeois guilt - as Juliette once so appositely put it - and hired a cleaner, Ingrid. Actually I was the one who had the problem with it, but I have finally come to the realisation that I just do not have time in my life for housework, and someone else could use the money. It doesn't seem like a lot, though I wonder if we get make £10 an hour ourselves...

Suzie came over to see the flat on Friday night, but rather unfortunately managed to fall down our stairs on her way out and broke her little finger. K spent the early hours of Saturday morning with her in A&E. Hopefully nothing else like that happens to our visitors for a very long time.

And just to round off the wonderful London time we've been having recently, we're just in from seeing 'Attack the Block', a brilliant film about youths on a council estate in Brixton becoming heroes as they fight off an alien invasion. Very funny and well acted and totally unpatronising, with lots of little social commentary digs - about stop and search policies, gang violence, etc - without laying it on too thick. I have to see it again. Slightly unsettling, perhaps, to step out of the Ritzy and find yourself in the midst of the area you just saw being invaded by terrifying aliens on-screen.

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And so back to Spain. It's K's birthday next weekend so we're taking advantage of this talk I'm giving at the Seville Book Fair - and the fact that the funders of my book are paying for my flight and hotel - to go to Spain for the Bank Holiday weekend together. He hasn't been to Spain for about 3 years, and hasn't been to Seville since we went there together about 13 years ago, when I first visited Spain with a view to spending a research year there. He comes back on Bank Holiday Monday, and I go to Granada for meetings of our Alhambra project and other such things. It was chaos last time so I'm a little nervous about it, but looking forward to just chilling this weekend in a beautiful city. So, expect updates on Central Asia some time in June. Until then...

Sunday, 6 February 2011

Joyreading

The cuts imposed by the coalition government have resulted in many local councils planning to cut library resources, and appallingly over 400 local libraries are now threatened with closure. Yesterday was 'Save our Libraries' day with protests and Shhh-ins (!) going on all across the UK. In solidarity we took ourselves off to the British Library, where I felt more than ever what an amazing privilege it is to be able to consult the material there.

This time, I was reading the manuscripts! I called up some of the volumes of the Layard papers - the enormous accumulated correspondence of Sir Austen Henry Layard (1817-94), discoverer of Nineveh and distinguished diplomat in Her Majesty's government. The first letter I looked at was from Henry Cole thanking Layard for the offer to source reproductions of Italian sculpture for the South Kensington Museum; the second was from the Earl of Clarendon offering Layard the position of ambassador to Spain! I think about the third or fourth letter was from Gladstone, another from the designer of the Albert Memorial seeking to ask Layard's opinion - at that time Commissioner of Works - on the monument's orientation! I flicked through these volumes increasingly amazed at the worthies of the Victorian age whose handwriting was passing beneath my gaze... I could have lost myself for hours just dipping in and out of this correspondence which I am sure sheds amazing light on the international political and cultural concerns of the times.

I was looking at these to read the correspondence from Rafael Contreras, the restorer of the Alhambra from 1847 to his death in 1890, which was addressed to Layard between 1870 and 1873 while he was ambassador in Madrid. He was there until 1877 but the letters stop in 1873, I'm not sure why. Though Contreras has been little studied, he has gained the reputation of defacing the monument rather than protecting it, of having an unscientific approach informed by Orientalism. Reading his increasingly plaintive letters, I developed quite a lot of sympathy for him - he was clearly passionate about saving the Alhambra for the nation and about the important discoveries he believed he was making. There aren't many letters and they don't say all that much, but they show the difficulties he was facing in terms of lack of funding for his restorations and the criminal unconcern of the local authorities for the building. It was a difficult time in Spain, with the Carlist insurrections, and he is obviously sorely touched by this - including the imprisonment of some of the Carlistas in the Torre de la Vela. Amazing to see his handwriting and his signature for the first time - which in the earlier letters has a rather pompous flourish, and by the last letters seems rather careworn, spattered with ink splodges.

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After the library, we went to see The Painter, a new play about Turner by Rebecca Lenkiewicz at the Arcola Theatre. They have just moved to a new location and it's a great warehousey kind of space, and it was a nice production, but alas not a great play. It just couldn't decide what it was about - his art? the origin of his genius? his relationships? his mad mother in the attic? We couldn't help comparing it unfavourably with Red. But Toby Jones as Turner was really good, and we'll go and see other things there as it was nicely done.

Sunday, 31 October 2010

Spanish conversation

Life - which is to say, work - has rather got in the way of blogging over the last couple of months. Since getting back to work after my long summer break, it seems busier than ever, with more to be done by fewer people, and an air of uncertainty underlying everything, with cuts cuts cuts the only thing being discussed - in the media and in people's daily lives. "Keep calm and carry on" seems a useful motto, as always. That resolution - of getting my work/life balance under better control - has not so far materialised.

I had a nice trip to Granada last week, to attend the meeting of a collaborative research project with the Alhambra which we're now engaged in. The weather was gorgeous - 23°C on Sunday! - but cold in the mornings and evenings, or if you stepped into the shade. It was an intense course in Spanish conversation, which did me a lot of good. I had that experience which I have always admired in friends for whom English is not their first language - like when Silvia and Rosa came here for dinner at the start of October, two Italians researching aspects of Italian-Islamic artistic encounter whom I wanted to introduce to each other. Of course we all spoke English, but when I stepped out of the room, and came back in a few minutes later, they were still speaking English to each other. Or when, in Berlin in January, I went out for dinner with some German colleagues from the Islamic museum, who were all still conversing in English when I got back from a trip to the loo. In this case, I was in Granada with a Spanish colleague from work, and a French colleague from the Louvre whom I know well, and with both of them I normally speak English - but because the lingua franca of our project meetings was Spanish, we continued to speak Spanish at the end of the day when out for dinner, and when I bumped into the French colleague, Sophie, on Sunday morning, having a coffee in a bar on the Plaza Nueva, we conversed in Spanish, because it felt odd to switch to English. How funny.

An interesting trip, as well, for understanding something about the internal politics of Spanish academia - sad, though, that in a city as small as Granada, with so many important groups of people who are experts in their own ways in local Islamic cultural history, that they should all be competing with each other, rather than working together to form a powerhouse of academic study in this area. They share information with us, as outsiders, but not with each other. It was good, though, to understand for the first time that I am not the only one who feels the tyranny of a certain couple, who seem to want to control what anyone anywhere says about Nasrid art history, by pillorying anyone who dares to express a theory different from one of theirs. Good, also, to understand that there are people within Granada who do not believe that their work is gospel any more. It gives me renewed hope for the new generation of upcoming Spanish scholars in the Islamic field, as well as a sense of reassurance that if one of this couple slates my book in a review - which I feel is fairly likely, especially since the Spanish translation is about to be launched - that not many people will pay them much attention.

There is not much other news, or what there is, is too boring to go into. I am giving a lecture tomorrow evening - the first in a while - so my time and thoughts over the last few days have been focused on that. It is on my book, a sort of promotional event which I had to organise for myself, since my publishers aren't doing anything. Compared to the publishers of the Spanish edition who have just invited me to participate in a launch event in Spain in the New Year! Anyway. I've been collecting book sightings - it's been spotted in the bookshops at the Metropolitan Museum in New York, and the American University in Cairo. It was in the Alhambra bookshops, and will hopefully be more prominently placed when the Spanish translation is out. (And a nice little plug for that came out recently in Granada Hoy, though with quite a few mistakes!)

But the best book-related anecdote so far is that a work colleague took a copy to present as a gift to the Sultan of Sharjah on a recent business trip, only to be told, "I've already got that! My daughter gave it to me!" So the Sultan of Sharjah has a copy of my book! The best book-related comment I've had is from the great professor of Islamic art, Robert Hillenbrand - chatting to him after his recent Islamic Art Circle lecture, someone asked us what was the book we were talking about, and Robert said - "Islamic Arts from Spain. You'd think, all the old chestnuts... But there is not a chestnut in sight!" I took that as high praise indeed.

The clocks went back this morning so now I have that strange feeling of my body-clock being out of kilter with what the clock on the wall says. Now begins the winter.

Monday, 12 July 2010

¡Campeones del Mundo!

'Pulpo Paul' - as they call him in Spain - predicts the Spanish win (100% success rate for this psychic octopus! I just want to know who on earth first thought of asking an octopus to predict football results!?)

and about time too!! Spain have been not-quite-achieving for so long but they are worthy World Cup winners - though, being a quarter Dutch, it was ever such a slight dilemma knowing who to support...

Actually it was never in doubt. I first started supporting Spanish fútbol when I was living in Madrid for a year, researching for my PhD, and Real Madrid won the Champions League - can you believe that is 10 years ago now, in 2000?? (Can you also believe there is actually a Wiki page on that particular match!) They returned to Madrid covered in glory, and there were processions and celebrations in the street - I just got caught up in the joy of it all.

So I can well imagine the logjams that wild partying in the streets of Madrid has apparently caused as Spaniards celebrate their victory! A picture on El País shows Gran Vía absolutely crammed with people in red and gold shirts! The outbreak of support for the national team - "La Roja" - across Spain has apparently also done much to heal separatist rifts: an interesting article on the Guardian about that here.

Great pictures on El País tonight of the team returning home and being received by the royal family at the palace - everyone just looks so happy and relaxed! Can you imagine our queen and prince consort looking so happy when faced with a squad of footballers?? There was a great moment, just after Iniesta scored his historic goal last night, when the TV camera caught la Reina Sofia whooping for joy with her arms in the air! I had hoped to find it on YouTube, but it doesn't seem to be up there - perhaps it is not an unusual occurrence! But if it had been England winning the World Cup (er, please excuse a moment of fantasy) can you imagine old Lilibet even twitching a smile?!

¡Enhorabuena España!

Sunday, 6 December 2009

Another busy week...

Capilla de los Condestables, Burgos Cathedral © KR

You might recognise this picture - it was the image we used for our Christmas greeting last year. We liked it so much, we used it for the December picture on our calendar. It's a photo K took of one of the beautiful openwork domes in the Cathedral at Burgos, where we visited last May - an example of the Islamic influence on the art of Christian Spain through the prominent eight-pointed star. I think you can just about see that the central detail is a figure group showing the holy family gathered round the infant Christ in the manger -

framed within a fiery halo that looks more like a wreath than sculpted stone. This dome is in the Capilla de los Condestables, founded at the end of the 15th century, and full of amazing sculpture.

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The weeks are just zipping past at the moment. On the one hand this means that the Christmas break is just around the corner, on the other it is scary how much work I need to finish before then. Sigh. This week I have worked very long days and been out every night. At the start of the week, we had two opening events for the Medieval and Renaissance Galleries, which look absolutely stunningly beautiful and amazing - what a triumph. On Wednesday I attended the Khalili Memorial Lecture at SOAS, annually part of the Islamic Art Circle lecture series, and on Thursday it was a pre-Christmas gathering of the Islamic Art discussion group I am part of - we had not managed to meet up for months (normally we try to meet once a month), and while the meeting's 'assignment' was ostensibly my report on the conference in Córdoba, we pretty much decided to keep it as a friendly gathering and gossip at an (overpriced) Lebanese restaurant in Soho. Friday, thank goodness, was an evening off - though I had a good long chat with my sister. Looks like she might have part-time work at the Hebridean smokehouse, so I'm anticipating a neverending supply of gorgeous hot-smoked salmon!!

Then last night we met up with Cornelius after our usual Saturday in the library (we have been working in the National Art Library the last few weeks, a gorgeous Victorian library and one I love working in, even though it's a bit like going to work on a Saturday...) to see A Serious Man at the Ritzy, followed by the pub. I enjoyed the film, and thought it was an excellent piece of film-making by the Coen brothers, but I still don't know what really happened... The final visual metaphor of dark clouds on the horizon indicating, I guess, that real life does not have happy-ever-after resolutions... But I am a bit fed up of seeing films that just abruptly end - the week before, we went to see The Castle at the NFT, an adaptation by Michael Haneke of a fragmentary short story by Kafka. After about two and a half hours, this abruptly cut to a black screen and the voiceover, "This is where Kafka's fragment ends". And that was that. In that case, it somehow worked. In my mind, the wonderful Ulrich Mühe - der landvermesser - is endlessly lost in the surreality of that frozen world, endlessly trying to obtain an entré to the castle...

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K got his new glasses on Monday. The bridge of his old pair snapped while we were in Oxford in October, visiting Bob and Bev for the weekend, and since then he has been carrying around a bottle of superglue and his even older pair of prescription sunglasses, for when they unexpectedly snap again. This happened as he was cycling home one day, but fortunately the tight hat that he wears to keep his ears and head warm also served to keep the glasses in position on his nose! So eventually he organised himself an eye test, discovered that his sight had drastically worsened (probably to do with the eye strain during writing up his PhD - this happened to me too, when I developed migraines for the first time), but now finally has a new pair of large round tortoiseshell specs that I think make him look rather like Alan Bennett. I'm still getting used to them, but they're an improvement on the pair he threatened to get, which made him look like David Hockney. Which one of those two distinguished artistes would I rather live with...? A good question!

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We're not impressed with a leaflet that Lambeth Labour party have put through the door today. It basically spins their involvement in our Residents' Association's fight against the planning proposal from Lambeth College, to imply that they have been leading the charge on the part of their poor embattled residents. Which is not true. Actually they have done nothing, other than lend a seemingly sympathetic ear (when our reps could actually get in to see them), then say in the last meeting that they supported the College's application. They are turning us and our cause into an election issue, because the Labour party are so clearly going to lose resoundingly at the next General Election, whenever that's called for. They've touted themselves round Brixton Hill Court today in a blatent attempt to get us all to vote for them. K has taken down the two posters they stuck up on the public notice boards.

Sunday, 29 November 2009

Hello and goodbye, November!

The minaret/bell tower of the Great Mosque of Cordoba, by night

It’s a whole month since my last posting. Two days after that, I went to Spain for a week. I try to go at least once a year – to keep the language skills ticking over, and also to catch up with the recent research that those prolific Spaniards publish, and which can be so hard to find or find out about over here; sometimes you can’t even track them down outside the particular region of Spain where the book or periodical was published. This time I was mainly in Córdoba – so wonderful to spend a whole week there – with a lightning visit to Granada tacked on the end, to see the current exhibition at the Alhambra on Washington Irving, the American writer who first popularised the monument and its charms for the Anglophone world, through the publication of his Tales from the Alhambra in 1832. This year marks the 150th anniversary of his death.

The primary reason for the visit was to attend the conference, “‘And diverse are their hues’: Color [it was an American-organised affair] in Islamic art and culture”. This was organised by the Qatar-based campus of the Virginia Commonwealth University, and as such was an extremely lavish affair, with receptions, three-course dinners and lunches laid on free of charge for the attendees – of which I think there were about 400!! It was completely dry, not just as a result of the Qatar Foundation’s sponsorship, but apparently also because American universities will not pay to provide alcohol at their events, especially if students are present. The Spaniards were utterly bemused by this, and the only table with a bottle of wine on it at the dinner after the opening reception was that of the Mayor of Córdoba and dignitaries of Córdoba University. Many conference attendees were seen slipping away to the bar before (and during!) dinner…

I did not have much luck with flights on this trip. Since it is not possible to fly direct from London to either Córdoba or Granada (except, it seems, on very specific and unhelpful days for Granada), I had to fly to Madrid and make carefully calibrated onward travel arrangements. These did not allow for much leeway if there were delays. Which there were, both ways. I had booked a train (the marvellous AVE) from Madrid to Córdoba, but the flight from London was delayed by two hours, because the passenger manifest did not match up with the number of people physically on the plane. There were two extra people, and the flight crew kept checking and rechecking everyone’s boarding passes, and occasionally calling out particular names and asking those passengers to make themselves known. Both the names of the extra people on the plane were called out various times, but they did not identify themselves. Eventually one of them was found during one of the passport/boarding card checks, and they asked him if he knew the other person whose name they had been calling out. He denied it. After another round of checks, this other person was found to be sitting next to him. They had checked in, but somehow got onto the plane without having their boarding cards checked. Finally, the plane started to taxi to the runway, then it stopped for a while, and then it turned back to the stand! Some transport officials got on and took these guys off the flight. The captain explained it all afterwards, and said he was uneasy about the situation and did not want to take off with them on board – in case it was deliberately dodgy and not just a case of stupidity, I suppose. I spent most of the flight worrying that I wouldn’t make it to Atocha station in time to catch my train, and in the end we landed half an hour before the train was due to leave – it normally takes 45 minutes to get there on the Metro! I ran out of the airport and straight to the front of the taxi queue, and the wonderful taxi driver zipped through the Madrid roads (it was a Monday lunchtime so not too busy, fortunately) so that I arrived in Atocha just as they were boarding my train!

So against all the odds, I made it to Córdoba – in time to attend the conference’s opening ceremony – and I had a fantastically productive week. I felt so intellectually engaged! I took with me a bunch of photocopied articles, an article I have in progress, a chapter and an article of Glaire’s which she had asked me to read and comment on… and I got through them all, in fact I didn’t want to read anything else! I took the new Carlos Ruiz Zafón book with me (The Angel’s Game) and I didn’t start reading it until a couple of nights before I was due to leave. Another reason for the trip was to see the newly-opened museum and visitor centre at Madinat al-Zahra – which is absolutely state-of-the-art and fantastic, such a treat to have all that material on display properly for the first time! – and also to start to ease my brain back into the subject of my PhD thesis, already more than seven years old, since I want to think about finally publishing it next year. One of the best things about the trip was meeting the archaeologist of the Great Mosque of Córdoba, whose articles I had read but whom I had never met, and going around and even underneath the mosque with him!


We literally climbed down a rickety ladder through a hole in the floor near the cathedral, while tourists peered down on us through the grate – after we had parted, I was sitting on a bench furiously writing up the notes from our conversation, when a group of Spanish tourists came over to me and asked me what was down there! This was the site of an archaeological excavation they had done several years ago, at the junction between the original eastern façade of the old mosque, and the extension which was constructed all along it by al-Mansur, regent of the Umayyad caliphs at the turn of the 10th/11th centuries, and subject of my doctoral research. This excavation goes all the way down to the 8th-century street! This originally ran alongside the length of the eastern façade (as the street today runs along the side of the mosque), but had to be filled in up to a height of about 4 m, in order to level the land before laying the foundations for al-Mansur’s enormous mosque extension. It was just fantastic to see, and what a privilege. All the finds from this excavation have been surveyed and drawn, but inexplicably, the archaeologist told me that there is no local interest to publish it, and while it is all currently held in the Cathedral archive, it cannot be consulted there, because it is not published!! When we parted, he asked me if I thought there was any chance of having this important material published in England – so at some point I might try to follow up on this…

On the way back from Spain – having got efficiently and uneventfully to Granada on the bus – I had a flight from Granada to Madrid, with a gap of two hours to get to my onward flight to London, but though I was at the airport in plenty of time, my flight was, of course, late. There was no explanation for this, nor any actual acknowledgement that it was in fact late, so no apology either. The flight landed 40 minutes late, but then it took another 40 minutes for the baggage to come out on the carousel – again, there was no explanation or apology, and the staff at the Iberia desk very unhelpfully just told us to wait. By the time I saw my suitcase, I was very anxious about catching my onward flight, since I had to change terminals – from the swanky new Richard Rogers terminals, to the old terminal building (which I knew so well from the year I lived in Madrid), which now operates as Terminal 1. I tried to run for a taxi again, but was told that I could not take a taxi between terminals and had no choice but to get the shuttle bus. Of course I had just missed one, had to wait 10 minutes for the next one to arrive, and then of course it went to every other terminal before Terminal 1. By the time I had run the length of the concourse to the EasyJet check-in desks, they had closed the flight, and would not make an exception for me. This has to be the first time I have ever known an EasyJet flight to take off on time.

Ridiculously, two flights left simultaneously for Gatwick and Luton, and unbelievably these were the last flights to London from any of the Barajas terminals. I had no choice but to change my ticket to a flight the next morning, but the EasyJet office could do nothing until the flight had actually taken off, so I just had to wait, doing nothing in the airport, watching my flight leave. It was extremely frustrating. Airport information were able to find me a relatively cheap place to stay near the airport, since the first flight the next morning was due to take off at 7.30, and I didn’t want to miss it! Unfortunately, the hotel did not serve food, and though they ordered me a pizza, it never arrived! Feeling very annoyed and sorry for myself, I had a fitful night’s sleep, but caught my flight uneventfully the next morning, and went straight into work. The trip was extremely rewarding and productive, but I have decided that travelling by plane is too stressful and I am happy not to have to do it for a while!

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The week I went to Córdoba, my sister went to visit her friend Will in North Uist, to get away from it all for her birthday, having just left her extremely frustrating and stressful job. By the time I got back from Spain, she had decided to move there! This was not an out-of-the-blue decision – it’s something she had been meaning to do for a while, and in fact she had a job interview in Glasgow on the way to Uist… But while she was up there, she heard of a flat available and decided to just go for it. I basically got back from Spain in time for her leaving party! I’m really proud of and happy for her, but I miss her loads too.

Holidays in North Uist next year, if she’s still there, which hopefully she will be!! I have been listening a lot to the CDs we bought on Harris in the summer – Julie Fowlis and Kathleen MacInnes – which really transport me back to the gorgeous landscape and intense feeling of wellbeing and relaxation we experienced on holiday up there. Which, now that I have to commute on the tube again, is no bad thing.

She wants the space to write, and to make ends meet through freelance editing work, which is busy finishing her training in. For her birthday present, I had reconditioned my old iBook for her, so she had a laptop. It’s about 8 years old, so doesn’t have a lot of memory, and won’t even mount the external hard drive I bought for her for back ups, so it’s practically useless, but hopefully it will tide her over until she can afford something more up-to-date. The space bar on the old keyboard had got stuck – it had lost its bounce basically – and I did not know where to get this fixed. I took it into an Apple retailer and repair shop on High Street Kensington, who told me I would have to have the whole keyboard replaced, which I was not prepared to do; and then a friend told me about a little hole-in-the-wall place by Goodge Street station, who fixed it without fuss, and also upgraded the operating system. Long live boffins and computer geeks, that’s what I say!

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I also got back from Spain in time to attend the next meeting of Lambeth Council’s Planning Committee – you will recall that in September, our Residents’ Association successfully argued for a delay to the Lambeth College redevelopment, on the site next to our block of flats, pending a site visit by all the necessary parties involved in making this decision. Astonishingly, this had never been done, and no-one involved in pushing this decision through the Planning Committee had seemed all that fussed about the opinions or the quality of life of the residents of Brixton Hill Court. The site visit was announced at very short notice, as was the Planning Committee meeting – one might be forgiven, I think, for wondering whether they were trying to push it through without more fuss from our Residents’ Association… However, they found out, and in time to pull some new statements together, and we all trooped down again to Lambeth Town Hall, the night after I got back from Spain.

Again, we’d been warned that the Planning Committee was minded to approve the application, and that our stand was more symbolic than anything. But amazingly, the wonderful Tory councillor who had argued for our cause before did so vociferously again – he has attended the site visit, and said this had made him even more amazed that such a big building could be contemplated on the neighbouring site, since it would really cut off our light and views and privacy. The mood in the room was going against approving the application, though at one point it seemed as if the unpleasant Chair might overrule the other councillors and push it through. It came to a vote, and a voice from one of the members of the public at the other side of the room was heard to say – “Sling it aaaaaaat!” (This guy turned out to be something of a nutter – as we were all leaving afterwards, he pulled K to one side and advised him to buy a recording device, since the councillors were all corrupt and could not be trusted to represent the discussions accurately in their minutes…) In the end, and much to our amazement, the application was basically rejected – or the Lambeth College officials present were informed that the building in its current configuration would not be approved, and they had to drastically rethink it before resubmitting their site redevelopment plan.

I think the phrase is a Pyrrhic victory, though that might be overstating it. Basically, we were of course delighted with this outcome – and with the continued success of our great reps from the Residents’ Association (K being one of them, you’ll remember) – but we also want Lambeth College to have the chance to redevelop its site. The Chancellor commented to Angela as we were gathering in front of the Town Hall afterwards – “You’ll be going home happier than we are”. We went to the pub to celebrate, but we await the next phase in this saga with some trepidation. Let’s hope it’s not worse.

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I have just read Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall, and it was absolutely fantastic. A Tudor historian friend-of-a-friend is apparently disgusted by how inaccurate it is, but I couldn’t care less. Everyone knows the story (it’s about the rise of Thomas Cromwell, during the era that sees the fall of Cardinal Wolsey, the divorce from Katherine of Aragon, the rise of Anne Boleyn and Thomas Cranmer, the break with Rome, the fall of Thomas More), and the point of this book is not to retell it in the format of ‘just another historical novel’. It is so beautifully written, and it made me realise that what the historical fiction genre is lacking is this kind of lyrical writing. Hilary Mantel might be the only person doing this. It’s a literary novel that just happens to be set in the past. But its historical setting is very impressionistic – you don’t read this book to find out how Thomas Cromwell rose to be the most important man in the State after Henry VIII. You read it for its fantastic use of language and the conception of Cromwell’s interior world.

This sentence is deservedly being used a lot in all the blurb about the book:
“Lock Cromwell in a deep dungeon in the morning”, says Thomas More, “and when you come back that night he’ll be sitting on a plush cushion eating larks’ tongues, and all the gaolers will owe him...”
I am also very happy to say that Wolf Hall has finally dispelled the bitter taste left in my mouth by the Shardlake novels of C J Sansom. I read the third of these while on holiday in Harris, and really wish I hadn’t. They’re badly written, overlong, and just plain boring. I have given him three out of four tries, but now I definitively give up on them. I cannot see why they are so highly regarded.

As the Economist review (Oct 10th-16th) put it, Ms Mantel eschews “cod Tudor dialogue … going for direct modern English. Her best novel yet”.

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Waterwheels and the Mosque of Nur al-Din, Hama, Syria © MRO

Exactly a year ago I was in Syria, looking after our Masterpieces of World Ceramics exhibition (amazing to see the same objects now permanently fixed in the timeline of world ceramics in our fantastic new Ceramics Galleries). During the two days off I had from Eid al-Adha – the three or four day holiday that occurs at the end of the pilgrimage to Mecca (the Hajj), which all my Syrian acquaintances likened to the Christmas break in the West – I hired a driver, and went on a wonderfully memorable trip to Krak des Chevaliers, the stunning Crusader castle in the fertile north of Syria. I wrote a bit about this trip in this posting. I stayed overnight in Hama, a small town on the Orontes river that is well-known for its waterwheels. We arrived there just as it was getting dark, and stayed in a lovely atmospheric hotel just outside the main part of the city, whose name I now cannot recall – though there was a very cute ginger kitten who climbed up my arm, I seem to remember!

My driver dropped me off in the town centre and then went off to stay with friends or family for the night, and I had a really atmospheric wander along the banks of the Orontes. I took this photo of the waterwheels and the 12th-century mosque of Nur al-Din from the bridge which crosses from one side of the river to the next, before diving into the network of medieval streets that meander around the back of the mosque. In my mind, I will always see Hama at night. It will be a surprise if I ever go back during the daytime!

This is our calendar picture for this month. We have been very organised this year, and have just ordered and even received our new calendar for 2010, so we can actually start writing in the nice things we have booked over the next few months – such as a long weekend in Paris for our 14th anniversary in February! So these happy reminiscences of high points of the last year will continue into 2010… Which is scarily imminent – I can’t wait for our two-week break at Christmas and New Year (we are heading for our cottage in St Ives again this year, and I just cannot wait) but there is still so much to do in the next month… Eeek!

Sunday, 14 June 2009

Back to life? I'm certainly back to reality...

I can't believe it's been nearly a month since my last post. The last few months seem to have gone by in a blur of writing, an activity which it is quite difficult to measure in normal temporal terms. I am now peaking my nose over the top of the parapet of the book-writing world I feel like I have been slightly trapped in, and reminding myself there is a world (and a life) out there...

So, against all expectations, the rewritten book chapters got sent off to the editor at about 7pm on Friday 29th May. When I had a meeting with him a few days later to talk about scheduling the next few stages, he didn't have anything prepared because no-one had ever actually sent him a manuscript on time before!! We agreed I could have until 18th June to submit the end-matter - footnotes, bibliography, captions, all the other little bits and pieces (map locations, acknowledgements...) - as well as the 'signed-off' text, in the sense that my boss has read it and agrees it's ready to go. Herein lies the rub. My boss is not the world's most efficient person at scheduling his time, and he is also always immensely busy. I also returned to the Department (bidding a regretful farewell to that hot, stuffy but calm office in Research) at a particularly busy time - just as my colleagues were at panic-stations, wrestling with the logistics of shipping artworks from various international destinations which are going to be shown in the Jameel Prize, which opens in under a month. So instead of having time and space to think about footnotes, I got thrown into the deep end of liaising with art shippers, which involved conversations about artists I had never heard of and artworks I knew nothing about! Well, we need to be adaptable in this job, and it was nice to be back around people, in a thriving environment (one of the reasons I love working where I work) but this has meant for the last two weeks I have been ending crazy days in the office with trying to get as much work on the book done in the evenings and weekends as it is humanly possible to do when you are already running on empty.

And then eventually I managed to have a conversation with my boss about whether or not he had looked at my chapters, and he of course said he did not have time to do that before the day it was all supposed to go off to the copy-editor. Sigh. I let the editor know and haven't heard from him since - I don't think I'm in his good books any more. Annoying too, because I am actually taking a day off on 19th June, and flying to Berlin for the weekend to spend time with my friend Glaire, who lives in North Carolina, but will be over there for university meetings - so I am taking the chance to see her, and the idea was we'd also have fun celebrating my getting the book all done and dusted.

While it means that potentially I now have time to calm down a little on my work on the end-matter, I still want to get all this done by Thursday. I want it to be ready to go as soon as I get the go-ahead. I also want to have the satisfaction of knowing that I have fulfilled my sides of the bargain. But I just could not face working today. On top of all the book work, I had to give a paper yesterday! At a study day we held on Owen Jones, to accompany the display my colleague has curated, to commemorate his bicentenary, and to draw long overdue attention to this extremely versatile and influential design theorist, in the run-up to the international touring exhibition I will be co-curating later this year. I was talking on 'The Alhambra in the 19th century', drawing largely on material from Chapter 4 - but I still had to draw it together into half-hour paper length, put my Powerpoint together, then go and give the darn thing!

Still, it seemed to go down well. Luckily, I was second, so I could get it out of the way early on, then relax and enjoy the rest of the day - the other papers were all really high quality, and very interesting, though not directly relevant to my research, which made it more relaxing! We went out for drinks and dinner afterwards, and then more drinks - ending up with just the 'hardcore' at an appropriately Victorian pub, The Bunch of Grapes, on Knightsbridge, listening to anecdotes about the museum and past curators from one of our company who was a retired curator with an endless supply of such amusing tales, of times when fellow curators were known to their colleagues as 'Dirty Dingle', for example!! We all wished we'd been curators fifty years ago!

So, despite the good intentions of spending this sunny Sunday working on image captions for Chapter 4, I just can't be arsed. I think a day off at the weekend is not too much to ask! We got up late, I caught up with a few emails, started to put my mind to thoughts about Berlin next weekend, and then K and I went out for a leisurely lunch at Negril on Brixton Hill, a great little place that does fantastic Caribbean home-made food.


Any visit there is perforce leisurely, especially on a sunny day like today when their front yard gets really busy, and it can take absolutely aaaaages for your food to arrive. But if you go there in full knowledge that you will not eat soon, it's very relaxing! We got a table outside, read the newspaper, drank mango juice, and waited for jerk chicken, rice and peas, and homemade coleslaw - yum! Going there feels a little bit like going on holiday - their yard is surrounded by trees and plants (this picture is an old one), and if you don't look up too far, you can't see the double-deckers and terraced houses of Brixton Hill. It feels like the cool kind of place you normally find on holiday in trendy European cities. Well, that just goes to show that London is one!

K is doing a bit of research for the conference paper he has to give next month, and in a while we thought we'd go and have some tea outside in our communal garden. I might read my book - I'm now onto the second Stieg Larsson book, The Girl who Played with Fire. I was going to wait until it came out in paperback, since I only read in bed at the moment and I'm usually so tired in the evenings these days that a big sharp-edged hardback book can be a dangerous undertaking! But my colleague who lent me the Camilla Läckberg had borrowed it from a friend and lent it to me before giving it back! I do like that I now exchange Scandinavian crime fiction with one of the Senior Curators of Textiles...!

But before I go, I have been remiss at posting this month's calendar picture:

Lonja de la Seda, Valencia, Spain © MRO

This is actually one of my photos! This was taken a year and a month ago in Valencia. These rather beautiful medieval angels supporting the coat-of-arms of the city of Valencia are on the corner of the Gothic building called La Lonja, the 15th-century silk exchange, which is one of the city's oldest and most beautiful buildings. A very impressive, cavernous interior space as well, an appropriately grand monument to one of Valencia's most important industries. Ahhh, makes me want to go back to Spain... (It doesn't take much!)

Well, there are many, many other things to say - but a cup of tea and a Viennese whirl in the sunshine is beckoning. I hope it won't be so long next time.

Sunday, 17 May 2009

Back in the Big Wide World - for now!

Well, I have re-emerged from the world I have been immersed in for the last two weeks, of the international influence of Islamic Spanish art in the 19th century, while I have been writing Chapter 4 - but as of 9.30 last night, I sent that off to my readers, and took the rest of the weekend off! That's the last chapter of the book - so, nearly there. Just the small matter of the rewrites to incorporate comments and corrections from my readers, finding some time to write the introduction, and whipping my image needs into shape - not all of which I am going to be able to do in the next two weeks, which is how much more research leave I have. I will try and do what I can to keep focused when I get back to the 'day job' in early June, but I know it will be difficult, so I'm feeling a little bit of pressure there.

I'm starting to chafe at the confinement slightly too - whole days at the desk when you don't go outside or (since my office in the Research Dept has no window) even see the sky. When I was writing Chapter 3 I closeted myself in the flat and didn't go out for about three days. This is all bringing back memories of writing up the PhD. I have also been remembering the difficulty of finding music to write to - you need something that makes the background fade away (especially in the Research Dept, where there is quite a lot of background) but is not itself distracting. I can't write to Bach for example - the music is so complicated that it engages your brain too much. Trouble is, you find something that works and then over-listen to it - I haven't been able to listen to Satie's Gymnopédies since I finished my thesis. This time round I have been listening to a lot of Max Richter, which is great but is now also starting to drive me slightly crazy. It's time to put this book to bed and get on with the rest of my life!!

This is a random picture to show the kind thing I have been writing about - this one of the pavilions built for the International Exposición Iberoaméricana in Seville in 1929, in a 'neo-Mudéjar' style, i.e. reviving a form of medieval Iberian architecture which adapted Islamic styles to Christian functions. The style was revived during the eclecticism of the late 19th century, when nations were looking for an architectural style to encapsulate their national identity, and which could represent their culture and aspirations at International Expos. At that time, Islamic styles became Spanish. The pavilion still stands, in Seville's Parque de María Luisa - along with various other structures built for that Expo.

Still. Today was a carefully-planned lazy Sunday, beginning with a cooked breakfast at the Vera Cruz on Brixton Hill, with Lindsay, followed by a short cycle ride over to the Clapham Farmers' Market, where we haven't been for aaages. It's not the biggest market you've ever seen, and I think stallholders were put off by the gusty, chilly, rainy weather we've been having over the last week - so there were only about ten stalls today, but all the same, it was nice to wander and think about buying things you would never otherwise buy. I got some rhubarb! I have no idea what to do with rhubarb but I plan to find out! We also bought some game pies (one venison and one rabbit), K picked up some homemade cider, and somehow the guy on the bakery stall managed to persuade us to buy his last two slices of pear and chocolate cake for a £1 each - he drove a hard bargain!

I don't care all that much about the fact that the food is organically-grown, I just like the fact that it is grown as it should be, and when, and that it's not flown in from cash crops in Zimbabwe. I'd love it if we could get a veggie box, and you just get what you get, cos it's in season that week, and you have to work out what to do with it - but where we live, there is nowhere for the delivery guy to leave it. Tescos was doing it for a while, in partnership (apparently) with local farmers in Kent, which seemed like the ideal solution as they could deliver it with your other groceries - but I got annoyed with it, because most of the stuff in the box was freighted in from distant lands, and that was not my idea of supporting local farmers. I guess other people objected to this too because they stopped it. 'Grow your own' is a big thing now, especially on community gardens - with people turning common garden areas in council estates into kitchen gardens, and the government proclaiming 2012 new allotments in London in time for the Olympics (it's not just Michelle Obama and her organic garden, though that is obviously fantastic!) - and that's something I have wondered about us trying to do with some of the unused common garden areas in our block of flats, though I have never had a garden in my life and wouldn't know what to do with it, let alone have the time....

But in terms of 'green lifestyle' for now we're contenting ourselves with composting - thanks to our neighbour Lisa, who actually went out and bought a compost bin, which nestles under a tree round the back, out of everyone's way, and which about five flats share now, including us. I got fed up with how much organic waste we were throwing away every week - and it's amazing what a difference it makes. It is so satisfying putting the peelings and the offcuts in our little compost bin then once a week taking it down to the big bin! I am sure some nice juicy compost has developed by now - Lisa has had the bin for about a year - but we have to work out how to get to it and what we're going to do with it! Hence the momentary thought about community gardening, when we were in the pub one night... Hmmm.... What I get annoyed about now (!) is how much plastic packaging there is - on almost everything you buy! There is so rarely an option not to buy something covered in plastic - I hate it! Our rubbish bin is just full of plastic bags and wrappers now. There was some horrible statistic I heard once - on a Jon Stewart interview I think - that plastic will outlive the human race, or some such. That's the monster we've created! The truth of this was visible everywhere in Syria last autumn, especially out in the countryside - plastic bags everywhere, just awful.

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I've accidentally finished The Gormenghast Trilogy. I didn't have another Swedish crime book lined up after I finished The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, and Bookthrift didn't have anything in that jumped out at me, so I reverted to Titus Alone, and after a few pages a night here and there, I discovered I was most of the way through, so I just went for it! It was very different from the previous two books - written much later, and completed after Mervyn Peake's death from his notes, but there is also such a contrast between the world of Gormenghast, which seems so remote from the real world in time as well as in space, and the sort of Brave New Modernist World which Titus encounters during his adventures in the last book. It all becomes a little bit weirdly hallucinogenic as well. But the writing is so beautiful - I've had a bookmark in this passage almost since the start of the book:
Suddenly and unexpectedly the last of the cedars floated away behind him as though from a laying-on of hands, and the wide sky looked down, and there before him was the first of the structures.

He had heard of them but had not expected anything quite so far removed from the buildings he had known, let alone the architecture of Gormenghast.

The first to catch his eye was a pale-green edifice, very elegant, but so simple in design that Titus's gaze could find no resting place upon its slippery surface...

Titus sat down by the side of the road and frowned. He had been born and bred to the assumption that buildings were ancient by nature, and were and always had been in the process of crumbling away. The white dust lolling between the gaping bricks; the worm in the wood. The weed dislodging the stone; corrosion and mildew; the crumbing patina; the fading shades; the beauty of decay.
I love that! The idea that buildings "were and always had been in the process of crumbling away", of not being able to find a resting place for your eye on the plain surface of a Modernist design - I can just imagine what it must have felt like living through the development of those new architectural fashions, how stark that contrast must have been between the heavily-decorated Victorian constructions of the previous century, and the move towards new, sleek, undecorated designs and their machine-made materials... It must have been exactly like how Titus experiences the unnamed world he is travelling through in that passage. (A by-the-by - we went to the Le Corbusier exhibition last Sunday - another disappointingly put-together exhibition with fabulous material)

Now I am reading The Suspicions of Mr Whicher (Bookthrift came through this time, and I set aside my snobbish reaction to the 'Richard and Judy book club' sticker on its cover) which I'm really enjoying - I hadn't realised it is an account of a true-life country house murder mystery, investigated by one of the earliest ever detectives, which was sensationalist at the time and inspired a wave of Victorian crime novels, not least Wilkie Collins's The Moonstone - well, we like those kinds of books, so it's got to be a winner. Really pared down language, which is refreshing too, somehow - after Gormenghast, and my own florid literary creations!

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Quick plug before I go. On Thursday night I joined my family to celebrate a friend's book launch - The Iraqi Cookbook, by our great family friend Lamees Ibrahim. Lamees is an Iraqi who has lived most of her adult life in England. The recent war in Iraq really hurt her, and she's been really driven to do something to raise understanding about the Iraqi people and their culture - she's been instrumental in setting up the new International Action for Iraqi Refugees. She's also an amazing cook, and the book started out as a way to pass on recipes to her children. She started throwing in memories and anecdotes about her childhood, and researching the history of Iraq and its cuisine, and the book was born. In her little speech on Thursday, she talked about why Iraqi cuisine is so different from that of its Middle Eastern neighbours - even from one end of the country to the other (all the fresh fish that is cooked and eaten in the port cities of the south are not known in the north, for example), partly because of all the empires and rulers that have passed through Mesopotamia during the course of millenia and left their mark on the food. She paused and said, "I don't think the current regime is going to have the same influence!"

(A brief aside on the British "draw-down" from Basra - there's an article here about my cousin, Dickie Head, who won the Military Cross for leading the force which went in to recover the bodies of the British soldiers killed in that helicopter crash in 2006 - proud of him)

Anyway, I'm looking forward to browsing the book and learning to cook some Iraqi dishes. I wonder what they might do with rhubarb...?

P.S. You can also check Lamees and some of her recipes out on the Guardian 'word of mouth' section, here.