Day 15 - London: St. Margaret's Church, The Courtauld Gallery, St. Paul’s Cathedral

On Thursday morning, we again split up for a variety of activities. I had Nora and Charis for the morning. Others went to the Imperial War Museum and Churchill War Rooms, with a rendezvous planned at St. Paul's Cathedral.

Nora, Charis and I began with the intention to return to Westminster Abbey. When we arrived, however, the abbey church itself was not yet open and the line was long, so we went into St. Margaret's Church, which has a fascinating historical connection to the Abbey itself. (Unfortunately, I didn't know until later that John Milton was buried there and I missed his grave site.)

No pictures were allowed inside either St. Margaret's or the Abbey, though I did feel compelled to snap a shot with my phone of one fading gravestone and the memorial to Sir Walter Raleigh. In the case of Raleigh, I was fascinated that this courtier who was executed by order of the king for treason would receive a burial in such a place of prominence.

The inscription on his plaque reads:

“Reader - Should you reflect upon his errors, remember his many virtues and that he was mortal.”

I also took down this line from a Tennyson epitaph on one of the plaques:

"Thy prayer was 'Light-more Light-while Time shall last!'"

From there we went to the Courtauld Gallery. In terms of scope this was a perfect gallery for me to appreciate in one visit.One frustration was consistently bad lighting on the paintings themselves. In some cases, it was almost impossible to get a view of the paintings that was not marred by glare. This is annoying anyway, but particularly so if you are hoping to capture some photographs of the works. But they did have some exceptional pieces and I could almost always find at least one decent angle.

The first painting I encountered was Lucas Cranach the Elder's "Adam and Eve." The detail is remarkable and a great example of what the Northern European painters preserved of the Medieval miniature tradition while the South was falling back in love with Greco-Roman statuary.

Next was Eduard Manet's "A Bar at the Folies-Bergère," the famous painting of a barmaid in front of a mirror. Again, bad glare, but it was great to be up close to some of the detail.

I also enjoyed Pual Cézanne’s “Man With a Pipe” and “The Montagne Sainte-Victoire,” Vincent Van Gogh’s “Peach Trees in Blossom,” and Paul Gauguin’s “Les Meules (the Haystacks).” The color and composition in the Gauguin picture are perfect for illustrating the Impressionist / Post-Impressionist use of a Japanese sense for perspective and a Medieval sense for dimension.

But the real illumination of this particular museum was Amedeo Modigliani’s c. 1916 female nude -- for one reason, the bellybutton. It is a perfect illustration of minimalist impressionistic brush technique. Four maybe five strokes accomplish the task. That’s it. Up close it looks like abstract art; but from a greater distance a perfectly executed bellybutton!

Of course, this got me looking for other impressionist approaches to bellybuttons and I was interested to compare Modigliani's to Gauguin’s in “Nevermore.” Gauguin’s is a little more carefully executed, but still the brushwork and color is very simple. 

"Nevermore" was Nora’s favorite in the museum and alludes to Poe’s “The Raven.”

From the Courtauld, Nora, Charis and I made our way to St. Paul’s Cathedral to wait for the others. We stopped and had drinks at the Starbucks near the cathedral and got a lot of people watching in while waiting for the others. (Londoners: Volume II coming soon).

Jen, Grams, and Dietrich joined us eventually with Anna, Emily and Gramps ascending The Monument and visiting the HMS Belfast.

St. Paul’s (again, no pictures allowed) was massive. I thought for sure it must be one of the largest interior church spaces in the world. But I found out later that it ranked only seventeenth. This really makes we want to go to Rome to see St. Peter’s (the largest). The churches ahead of St. Paul’s are also interestingly scattered about (Brazil, Italy, Germany, Belgium, the United States, Serbia, and several other locations.)

We toured the inside briefly. Jen was on the lookout for William Holman Hunt's life sized version of "Light of the World" and found it. At one point all the visitors were asked to be quiet for a time of prayer. Then we began our ascent to the top of the dome.

First we got to the interior walkway around the base of the dome - the Whispering Gallery. Slight whispers can be heard from across the dome and a clap produces four echoes. It is an interesting scientific phenomenon.

Then we ascended first went out to the larger exterior walk around the base of the dome called the Stone Gallery and finally ascended to the very small rim around the cupola called the Golden Gallery.

The view was incredible.

From St. Paul's we headed back to Camden Market. Everyone else headed into the warren to shop. I sat and had a cider and some top shelf barbecue from one of the vendors.

Then we rejoined the rest of the family at Westminster Abbey, again hoping to get in, but thwarted by a special service being held there. We walked down the street for one final dinner in London and ended up eating at a family dining chain called Garfunkel's.

Next stop, Normandie.

Day 15 Reflections

Reflection One: Some of my observations on the difference between French reserve and Anglo-American exuberance were confirmed by sitting near a French family while dining in Camden. I was probably seated for an hour and the entire time the young lady in the group, who was the only youth, probably 13 or 14, sat at the table, pleasant enough, somewhat disengaged. What struck me most was her stillness. She appeared neither angsty, jumpy, impatient or eager. Just … still. This would be confirmed later during our stay at Normandie. I would have loved to visit a school in session in each place and see what the hallways were like.

Reflection Two: Now a little more than halfway through the vacation, I understand in a new way how people sometimes lose themselves, perhaps even how "midlife crises" begin. 

We become at this point in our life so busy doing, doing, doing under the press of the careers and activities we have chosen that when we do stop to simply be -- on a vacation like this, a good road trip, or even a lingering night out with old friends -- it is possible to be overcome by a radical disconnect between those life giving experiences from all we have chosen to do. Where in all of our “doing” have we experienced this kind of “being?” And is not this what we were made for? Is not this higher and better? Is not this sense of well being what God created us for?

If we are not careful, then, we find ourselves trapped between two equally unattractive options.

This first is to simply return to the drudgery of doing with memories of leisure past and a hope of leisure to come, to concede our “being” to economic necessity. After all, a man must eat and he ought to feed his family while he’s at it. Nothing to be done about it. Goodbye being.

The second would be to leave the drudgery entirely. Strike out in a bold new way of being. Buy a new sports car on credit. Get out while you can. Leave your responsibilities and live life while you still have the energy to do so.

The first of these is profoundly depressing, the second profoundly dangerous and seriously disruptive to any well-ordered view of life.

But there is another way, a third alternative, and that is to use such an experience as this to recover a genuine sense of being in your doing. Try to remember the true calling in your work, the vocation in your career. Find the humane in the mundane. Discover what is wonderful in the ordinary. Infuse the world of doing with meaning and dignity through your own choice to see it as a world of splendor and mystery. Make a few simple commitments that will force you out of bad habits.

Cultivate jamais vu.

Go to the Mooreefoc.

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