"It seems that the soul... loses itself in itself when 
shaken and disturbed unless given something to grasp on to; 
and so we must always provide it with an object 
to butt up against and to act upon."

~Michel de Montaigne, Essais

Follow @mleese03

Mandi and I ventured down Euston Road to the Wellcome Collection, where medicine, science, history and art combine.  This is, according to Nature, ‘London’s brave venue where science, art and culture converge.’  The museum, created by Henry Wellcome, houses over 1500 exhibits documenting six centuries of mankind’s perpetual interest in the human condition. 

The two temporary exhibitions at the moment are ‘Miracles and Charms’, on display until the 26th of February, which explore human reliance on faith and superstition.  The first of these exhibitions, called ‘Infinitas Gracias’, is a collection of Mexican votive paintings dating from the 1700’s to the present which were commissioned by everyday people and displayed on church walls.  Painted on pieces of tin and small plaques, the images recall personal dramas while the words acknowledge the divine intervention which saw individuals and families through crises ranging from ill-health, motor accidents, false accusations and domestic troubles. The collection is a strong reminder of the role which faith has played, and continues to play, in these Mexican communities, from 18^th century paintings to modern day interviews in which people tell of miracles in their life.  I particularly liked the video of a woman called Maria from Guanajuato, who tells her story of the difficulty she had as a child learning to cook tortillas. After nothing but failure and with the pressure of a strict mother weighing on her shoulders, Maria eventually prayed in tears to Señor de Villaseca for a miracle. She soon made her first round, perfectly cooked tortilla which she dedicated as an offering to the saint.  To this day, Senor de Villaseca continues to hold an important place in Maria’s faith, as protector of her 15 children.  There was also opportunity for visitors to write their own votives, some of which had inspired artists to create votive pieces of their own. These express gratitude towards supportive families, the skill of medical experts and whatever unknown ‘greater force’ is out there.  One, called ‘Epic Bubble’, sticks out in my mind as particularly affecting: read it here.

‘Charmed Life: the solace of objects’, the other temporary exhibition, put together by an artist called Felicity Powell, emerged from her interest in and fascination with the work of amateur folklorist Edward Lovett. Lovett was a head cashier in Croydon who spent his spare time collecting charms and talismans, and exploring the importance of superstition and folklore in London during the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries.  Henry Wellcome knew of Lovett’s collection and in 1916 allowed Lovett to curate an exhibition, ‘The Folklore of London’, in what was then the Wellcome Historical Medical Museum.  

Powell was intrigued by the sense of hidden magic retained by the objects collected by Lovett, and the personal stories, now lost to history, which lie behind each charm.  The exhibition centred around a horseshoe-shaped display of charms, including lucky beans, mole feet, glass seahorses and a real sheep’s heart, stabbed trough with pins. In a small room, two videos play side by side. One video shows various MRI and PET scans of Powell’s body overlaid with images of the Lord’s prayer, written on a disc of paper the size of a small coin by 88 year old George Yeofound in 1872, in a script so small it is only legible when magnified.  The other video, also magnified, shows Powell at work, as she mesmirisingly creates small wax figures, face and hands with impossible deftness and precision.  After watching the video, which had me entirely captivated for the whole seven minutes, I was amazed to see just how small these wax pieces were in real life.

Memento mori

I wandered up the stairs to the permanent ‘Medicine Man’ collection, where an array of everyday items from the past re on display: Darwin’s walking stick, Napoleon’s toothbrush, Florence Nightingale’s moccasins, George III’s hair – it’s all there. Well, not quite all there: only 500 weird and wonderful artefacts out of Wellcome’s original collection of over one million objects are on show. There are artefacts from around the world, which go beyond the purely scientific and trespass upon the sociological and philosophical aspects of health, demonstrating our universal obsession with the human form from conception to death. These objects not only tell us about medical practices throughout history, but also offer an interesting insight into different cultures. 

Tattoo, late 19th century

Objects such as European chastity belts, Japanese sex aids, Peruvian mummies, 19th century tattoos (preserved on human skin) and memento mori figurines, show how different societies have viewed sex, death, health and beauty, sometimes with repulsion, sometimes with joy, but always with fascination.  Unfortunately, I am particularly squeamish, so things started to go downhill for me after the bleeding cups in the ‘Seeking Help’ cabinet, which was first display I came to.  I tried to continue, but only got as far as the shrunken head and shrivelled body on display before I admitted defeat and stumbled, slightly light-headed, back downstairs to Mandi and safety.  I’m feeling a little queasy just writing about it. Still, although my attempts to learn about various medical practices throughout history and around the world were frustrated by my exceptionally weak stomach, the three small sections of the ‘Medicine Man’ exhibition that I did manage to see were fascinating. 

The other permanent collection, ‘Medicine Now’, brings us right up to date with the latest ideas and developments within a few areas: the body, malaria, obesity, genomes and the impact of medical sciences on patients.  The comparison between malaria and obesity – two illnesses which don’t spring to mind as comparable – highlights just how divergent threats in the medical world are.  While the developing world lacks the money and resources to control the spread of malaria, the wealth and abundance of unhealthy foods in developed world led us to create an epidemic of a completely different kind.  

What makes this exhibition so accessible for everyone is the way it brings together scientific, artistic and the plain old every day points of view. The exhibition includes artwork, films, objects tucked away in draws, and ‘sound chairs’, where you can sit and listen to short audio clips of experts sharing their ideas about the different topics.  I chose to listen to a woman talking about her years of failed dieting.  There are tables at the end of the room where visitors could write about or draw their perceptions or experiences of different topics, ranging from war to unicorns, on pieces of card and display them in the ‘red boxes’ which line the back wall.  Around the corner is another room where you could put up drawings or artwork with the magnets provided.  I just played with the magnets for a bit.  Also, they have a Jelly Baby man – how cool!

The Wellcome Collection is definitely a place which isn’t visited enough, and I’d highly recommend going along to look around.  The Peyton and Byrne café in the entrance is also a great place to sit and relax.  And if you do visit, don’t forget to look up as you leave.  While slightly inebriated at the house of a good friend, the eminent scientist Professor Bernal, Picasso climbed onto a chair and drew a man and a woman, both winged and wreathed. The mural, known as ‘Bernal’s Picasso’, is now on display above the entrance of the Wellcome Collection.

'Bernal's Picasso', 12.11.1950

Mandi and I crossed the road to go to Euston station for some late lunch at Nando’s.  If you’ve never had Nando’s chicken liver, I have two words for you: DO IT. It’s amazing, and I don’t even like liver.

The Wellcome Collection and Nando’s were amazing, but this was definitely the highlight of my day:

Tweet

'I never met a color I didn't like'

~ Dale Chihuly

Follow @mleese03

More photos here

After conducting some light research on TimeOut, we decided on the Halcyon Gallery on New Bond Street for today’s destination where the seductively colourful works of the innovative artist-glassblower-entrepreneur Chihuly is currently on display.  I had no idea how enthralled I could be by blown glass until today.  I’ve seen documentaries about Venetian glass blowers and know how much skill is required to make even a simple vase or a glass marble using this age-old technique.

More photos here

The way Chihuly manipulates the glass to create what he does is awe-inspiring.  From the bowls which form Chihuly’s earliest series of pieces to the impossibly intricate chandeliers constructed from hundreds of individual pieces of blown glass, Chihuly creates something truly mesmerising. His love of nature is unmistakable, and as I wander around the gallery it feels like a journey through a glass garden, with its vivid colours, gentle lighting and delicate, floral shapes.  A flick through one of his books shows how seamlessly Chihuly is able to not only incorporate nature in his art, but also incorporate his art back into nature, creating outdoor 'fiori' installations for display in world-famous botanical gardens. 

More photos here

The eye candy of the exhibition at the Halcyon Gallery is on display in the mezzanine.  The specially constructed Mille Fiori is a 24-foot long breathtaking – and I mean literally breathtaking – masterpiece, which evokes the feeling of being in some enchanted underwater world.  (“It was so beautiful. It made my heart hurt.” – Mandi.)  As well as the glass pieces, Chihuly’s sketches and paintings are also exhibited, which are as lustrous and richly-coloured as his glass works.  There’s not much more I can say, other than to inform you that the exhibition closes on the 29^th February 2012 – don’t miss out.

See more photos from the exhibition here

The Coach and Horses, Bruton Street

Mandi and I strolled towards Mayfair, passing the cutest pub ever.  The Coach and Horses pub is a quaint mock-tudor style building at 5 Bruton Street. It used to be one of the oldest buildings in the area until damage meant it had to be torn down and rebuilt. Much of the interior, however, is still original, and - another tittle of trivia for you - Queen Elizabeth II was born only a few doors down at number 17. We walked on to Berkeley Square, where we saw a house which was tied with a giant ribbon to look like an impressive present, before wandering into a little side street with Mandi desperately on the lookout for a loo.  

Carmen and Armando

We stopped to ask a lady sitting outside a small café, called La Strada if she could direct us to the nearest public toilet, to which she replied, ‘Come in, come in, you can use the toilet here... if you buy a drink.’  Deal. This Spanish-born, Italian-speaking woman, who we later find out is called Carmen, is the most fun and loveable waitress I have ever met, and provided us with endless entertainment during our meal.  Walking into this place feels more like receiving the warmest invitation into an open house: it is as though we are being welcomed into a family.  (However, those who use the toilet and then refuse to buy a drink are seen off by Carmen with “next time you do it in your pants!”)  

La Strada's Rambler

Mandi and I both order ‘La Strada’s Rambler’, a huge all-day brunch which was served with the best Americano I’ve had for a long, long time. Even the buttered toast was ridiculously tasty! The menu also includes a selection of traditional, home-cooked Italian pasta dishes, curries, sandwiches, pastries, scones and cakes, all to eat in or take away. Anything you can think of is on offer, and if it’s not, I have a sense that they’ll make it for you.  

By Mandi - amandaflynn.co.uk

And to think we almost settled for Starbucks – thank goodness Mandi needed the toilet! So next time you’re looking for somewhere to warm your hands and your heart, La Strada in Mayfair is just what you need.

La Strada, 4-5 Lansdowne Row, London, W1J 6DS (map)

On the way home, a Chagall in the window of the Opera Gallery caught Mandi’s eye, and we went in to see what other pieces the gallery was selling. We made the slightly disturbing observations that I’m drawn to artwork with themes death and erotica, usually simultaneously, while Mandi prefers picturesque scenes of efflorescing love.  We rediscovered my soft side in Berkeley Square, where we stopped to read the dedicatory plaques on the benches. These little expressions of love and friendship tell of lasting friendships, family ties, tranquil reflection and rekindled romances.  Reading them created the perfect end to the perfect day out.

Tweet

A good painting to me has always been like a friend.  

It keeps me company, comforts and inspires.

~ Hedy Lemarr

Follow @mleese03

Hals' Laughing Cavalier

After quickly showering and removing all traces of any alcohol from my mum’s room (heaven forbid the consumption of any inebriating beverages in student accommodation), I returned home to my wifey just in time for tea and breakfast.  Feeling invigorated by my “early” morning walk, I decided to poach a couple of eggs to eat with my usual butter-on-toast.  I don’t know what it is about poached eggs.  I don’t even like eggs that much normally, unless they’re either scrambled with an obscene amount of butter, or sandwiched inside a double sausage and egg McMuffin. Poached eggs, however, are something else, not to mention far healthier than the other two options. 

I just love them. 

But enough about eggs.

Mandi and I decide it’s high time for a culturally enriching experience, and so decide to have a look around one of London's lesser known galleries. The Wallace Collection is a hidden gem located on Manchester square, ‘a family collection, a national museum, an international treasure house.’  The collection, which has been assembled by a single family over five generations, is pretty astounding.  The gallery, which is set in a beautiful stately home, houses an extensive collection of European and Oriental armoury dating back to the fifteenth century, as well as some of the greatest works of European art, including Hals’ The Laughing Cavalier, Canaletto’s Venetian scenes and Filippo della Valle's charming Cupid and Psyche.

Cupido e Psiche

Filippo della Valle (1732)

What Psyche felt, and Love, when their full lips

First touch'd; what amorous, and fondling nips
They gave each other's cheeks; with all their sighs,
And how they kist each other's tremulous eyes.

(~Keats)

L'Amour prêt à lancer un trait
(Love Triumphant)

Qui que tu sois, voici ton maître;
Il l'est, le fut, ou le doit être.
Whoever you are, this is your master;
He is it, or was, or must be it.

(~Voltaire)

Unfortunately, the East galleries are undergoing refurbishment, and so the great Dutch pieces by Rembrandt and… and, erm, all those other Dutch artists won’t be on show until Easter time.  But there is still a fantastic collection including works by Fragonard, Boucher and Watteau. I, of course, am rather partial to a good piece of eighteen century French art and so find myself in oil-on-canvas-heaven.  No, seriously, although I am no art connoisseur, I can at least appreciate that this collection of masterpieces is magnificent (and that’s not a word I use often or lightly).  The paintings and sculptures are beautiful, and the restaurant, located in the courtyard, is a wonderful place to sit down, whether you fancy some tea and cake, or a full a la carte meal (note that smooth link between the art and the food). 

I’m pretty sure Mandi and I are defying the social conventions that such establishments expect their customers to adhere to, as she orders hot water I unpack my laptop, but we’re used to those disapproving looks people tend to throw in our direction.  The selection of cakes looks so appealing that it takes Mandi a good ten minutes to finally settle on the chocolate and banana cake, bravely ignoring the waiter’s well-informed advice that she really ought to try the evidently popular carrot cake.  She doesn’t like banana, but justifies her choice by noting that the cake was still intact and someone would have to order the first slice at some point: it might as well be her.  Thankfully, she enjoys the cake and even finds the layers of banana cream delicious (‘it’s so good I’m going to draw a picture of it’, see below).  Further still, she doesn’t really like cream, so I’m straight in there.  

Mandi's sketch for the Wallace Collection Restaurant (amandaflynn.co.uk)

So, if you’re bored of the National Gallery (so mainstream!) and you want to spend a while gazing at some Gainsborough or Canaletto or Reynolds, this is the place to be.  There’s also a great deal of amusement to be had eavesdropping on conversations.  As I was typing, the man next to me was delivering a monologue on the Dickensian aspects of Coronation Street over a slice of that highly-recommended carrot cake to a very disinterested audience (his wife, I presume).  She, meanwhile, attempted to steer the conversation towards a discussion on the benefits of reading the Harry Potter and Twilight books before watching the films, and that all-important question: were Rachel and Ross really meant to be?

Francesca de Rimini, Ary Scheffer (1835)
And she to me: "There is no greater sorrow
Than to be mindful of the happy time
In misery, and that thy Teacher knows."

(~Dante, Inferno V)

 On our way home, Mandi and I decided to grab some dinner from Tesco, and emerged from the reduced items aisle proudly clutching two giant chicken kievs, a pair of peppered grill steaks and, best of all, a bag containing 1.49kg of curry.  We now know that 1.49kg of food is too much for a pair of petite girls to munch their way through, but what a feast!

L'escarpolette ('The Swing')
Jean-Honoré Fragonard (1767)

Tweet