Inspired by my visit to Modigliani’s studio in Paris I decided to stop off in London to see a major retrospective of his work.
Despite the common language in the UK, I had to remember the subway system was called the “Underground” or more commonly “the tube”. Asking directions for the subway would likely get me to one of the sandwich franchises.
And speaking of sandwich franchises…
When I unexpectedly got hit in the face with a wayward Happy Meal from McDonald’s–I’d managed to walk between a lover’s spat when one of the party’s displeasure was shown with a badly aimed burger and fries–and looked over, stunned, at a young woman while her angry beau stomped off, she looked at me with aplomb and said with a distinctive accent, “Sorry, Love.” I felt I’d just been affronted by Eliza Doolittle pre-Henry Higgins.
Fortunately the rest of the time went without incident, but it wasn’t the only time I was amused by the wide array of British accents.
I stayed in an Airbnb outside the center in a quiet residential area, notwithstanding the construction of a building across the street. The tube, markets, shops, and cafés, I mean pubs were all convenient and in abundance. A meal of fish and chips was obligatory and reminded me of my first, many years before, wrapped and served in newspaper and sold from a small shop.
Legend has it that any less than six ravens on the grounds and the Crown will fall and Britain with it. Some ravens are kept in reserve just in case a few wander off.
My reason for coming to London did not disappoint. The retrospective of Modigliani’s portraits was impressive and interesting to see this artist’s work evolve into his signature and essentially unwavering style. A virtual-experience offering viewers to “visit” Modigliani’s atelier, was particularly amusing since the images had come from the very place I’d been in Paris-now renovated into an apartment.
I managed to catch Bryan Cranston in a technologically eye-popping and sometimes ear-splitting National Theatre production of Network, the Paddy Chayefsky, “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore.” hit flick of 1976 reimagined by director Ivo Van Hove. A few too many bells and whistles for my taste, but the message regarding our relationship to media is as relevant as ever. And buying a ticket for a sold-out hit (returned tickets are reimbursed and available for sale) an hour before showtime-I was first in line-would never have happened in NYC.
Images from the series The Crown on Netflix, the films: The Darkest Hour and Dunkirk, and the unforgettable Masterpiece Theatre’s The Six Wives of Henry the VIII and Elizabeth R, seen when I was a child, came to me while exploring the city with its extraordinarily rich history.
I was reminded of the ongoing affection for the queen and pomp.
A week wasn’t nearly enough time to see all the major sites despite filling my days and evenings with strolls and visits.
I’d forgotten how huge London is.
I’ll just have to come back another time.
