Long Wet Weekend

So what does one do on a cold we grey weekend. Obviously watch lots of football and rugby on TV, so that was Saturday sorted. But man cannot live on sport alone (although many give it a good go) so on the Sunday morning I decided to get up early and head off to the Hayward to see the "Light" exhibition. 

Now the Hayward is probably the most disappointing gallery you can go to in London. While architects might admire the South Bank, to any other person this area is a slum in a prime setting. And the Hayward is the most unlovely part of all. If you were a council tenant you would be campaigning to get moved. Its the sort of place you would expect to house high security  young offenders, a collection of concrete boxes which have weathered badly, and on a  grey day look particularly depressing and joyless. 

 The gallery space inside is equally bland and uninviting, but especially uninviting this morning as I was greeted with signs that the exhibition was sold out for the entire day. How could they do this to me?

So I needed a plan B having come all this way into town. A little potter on the Thames - the South Bank at least offering good views away from it to the London Eye and the Houses of Parliament,

 then cross the Hungerford Bridge, a railway bridge with modern pedestrian access added

As you can see, a VERY grey day. Embankment Gardens are very nice, and rather overlooked, with traditional statues of the now not so famous. Worth a wander if a at a loose end, but the palm trees look particularly sorry for themselves on a day like this.

And then onto my Plan B - the National Gallery. A much more inspiring gallery than the Hayward, inside or out. It contains both areas of nice sleek modernism

 and traditional Victorian splendour.

What I had particularly come to see was  a small landscape exhibition of Frederic Church, an American artist  Never heard of him? No nor me, but this collection of sketches is really beautiful  Would like any of them in my house, and with the exception of a stunning canvas of Niagara Falls on loan from the Scottish National Gallery, they could fit. The paintings of icebergs were my favourites.

 There is also a complimentary exhibition of Europeans landscape paintings mostly from the Gere collection which was also delightful.

I then headed on down the Piccadilly line to the V & A in South Kensington as I thought I might usefully see the Tudor exhibition on there. Which I duly did, but it was rather crowded, so I intend to go again midweek. I then just had a potter through the religious stuff, rather neglected at the V&A as elsewhere as its a bit on the dull side,

 and then through the extensive silver galleries,

  finishing up in the 20th century design stuff in the library.

On the Monday of this long weekend I had arranged to meet an old friend for a walk in Trent Park. It is fair to say I hadn't quite thought through how wet and muddy it would be (very) but it was a nice stroll nonetheless. Not clearly one of the most exciting parks in London (well this is Cockfosters, literally the end of the line if you are on the Piccadilly), but not without its points of interest, including a large obelisk with its views to the old house (now part of Middlesex university) and an attractive little water garden which probably needs a visit later in spring when there is more than the daffodils out on display.

Then to finish off we had lunch at an Italian restaurant in Cockfosters. And who should walk in during our meal but eighties icn Paul Young. Rather weird having someone at a table nearby knowing you have his album on your mp3 player in your top pocket. Definitely Paul Young as (a) still looked like him although he must be getting on for 60 now, and (b) his female companion did say "This alright Paul?" as they entered - so corroborative evidence. I think it fair to say you don't go start spotting in Cockfosters, so a bit of a surprise.

Finally, to cap off the long weekend I went to see the Audience in the evening. This is probably the hottest theatre ticket in town - there was even a long queue outside in the cold and rain for returns. This is the play with Helen Mirren as the Queen, two names that are bound to sell, especially to a US tourist. It has also had rave reviews. Personally I was ok with it, but frankly seen better in the last fortnight. Impeccably acted of course with a clever set, clever scene changes, clever everything indeed, to try and knit together a series of imagined meetings between the Queen and her prime ministers. But it had to be clever to overcome its weakness as a play, that it was just a set of disjointed scenes with no real narrative, not even a chronology.

It worked best as a comedy sketch show. The bits where it tries to make some serious points in the meetings with Eden and Thatcher fall rather flat. The best are with Harold Wilson, as they are most played for laughs. Don't get me wrong - a perfectly enjoyable evening and worth seeing, just not perhaps matching up to the hype.