Pompeii, Propaganda, Palace Theatre, Planes, Trains and Drains

Ok, top award for alliteration, even if a little contrived, eh?

I started off my long weekend by going to the Pompeii Exhibition at the British Museum. I was there before opening in an attempt to beat the crowds, so I pottered about the Enlightenment galleries a bit, which I really like.

But actually there were no crowds. What I did beat by about 15 minutes were the primary school parties. The kids would have been fine, but of course nowadays you can't just let them look at things. Instead you have to have out of work actors dressed as Romans to do little re-enactments in the galleries. So the kids may not distract much, but the "Romans" certainly did. I find the art of talking down to children beyond me, the false excitement that adults conjure up to gain the interest of their young charges. But the one amusing bit was was some woman posing as a Temple Priestess trying to engage the kids by referring to some of them no doubt following this "new-fangled Christianity".  "No" said one little voice. "You maybe don't follow any religion then, which is probably worse as you have no God to protect you from disaster" gushed the woman in full flow. "I'm a methodist" the child piped up...

Anyway, back to the exhibition. I slightly feared that I had seen most of the exhibits, if only in pictures. But it was no disappointment  A really great exhibition which I will return to at a later date. Indeed having gone all the way through I circled back for a second look. The frescoes are tremendous, and so are some of the objects, some from the point of view of being incredibly well-crafted works of art, others more mundane but giving an insight into daily life, from carbonised loaves of bread to a dormouse fattening pot. And on top of the artefacts and the story of every day life, there is of course the story of the eruption. All in all a fascinating exhibition.

In stark contrast to the second exhibition of the day, which has just opened. "Propaganda" at the British Library sounded like it would be interesting  but actually was very dull. Not too easy to put my finger on why, but maybe because it tries to be so impartial. The themes don't really work, and indeed some of them are outside my view of propaganda - such as public information films on health, drugs, road safety. I certainly didn't feel I got my tenner's worth. An exhibition on advertising in general would have been more engaging.

The British Library does also have a gallery of its literary treasures. The magna carta of course, a number of bibles, early Shakespearean editions. The most attractive are the Natural History illustrations  and the little display of original Beatles lyrics.

But nothing can really compensate for it being a truly hideous building, alleviated only by St Pancras peeping up over the top of it.

 

While the old station is a fine piece of architecture, a wander around this area is rewarding for its features and side streets.

And in particular, if you ever have time to kill at King's Cross, its well worth just popping outside and then down onto the canal. A nice little oasis from all the hustle and bustle above. One of the barges even does tea and coffee.

After a trip to a bathroom specialist (I am having a loft conversion done and wanted some inspiration for my new bathroom) I then headed out to Victoria for dinner and then a show at the Victoria Palace theatre. The excuse for this was my friend's son's 13th birthday  Not easy to think of a present for a young teenager that isn't really lame, so instead I went for taking him and his mum out for dinner at a nearby hotel followed by Billy Elliot.

The latter is a tremendously good show, even for someone (like me) who doesn't like musicals. It has everything - song and dance of course, but also a great story line and a lot of comedy, and poignancy too. As I expected, mother couldn't escape a good weep at the scene of Billy reading out the letter from his dead mother (which is a real tear-jerker - judged just right). But what makes this so perfect is that it is not a family show - its not FOR kids. But that is why it makes it so good for a young teenager - its a grown up production (with language to match) but about a subject that a teenage boy can relate to. In short, it doesn't talk down to its audience.

And the other thing I would have to say about this musical is that it gets the emotional politics of the miners' strike right. The feeling of solidarity, of defeat, of the (very) lost cause. It was very good. And I think young Tom enjoyed it too. Mission accomplished.

Next day, while Tom's older brother was playing football - really a man now, approaching 18 - and will shortly be doing some work experience with me,




I met up with my current trainee. (Obviously every day in the office with me isn't enough...)

After lunch (kindly bought by his mum at a Chinese restaurant specialising in really hot food (I tried the stir-fried duck's tongues - well I like to try something new - but boy they were chilli-fuelled!) we headed off to our intended exhibition - one on London infrastructure projects called Planes Trains and Drains. While even I can't get excited by drains, the rest was really good. I admit it helps to be slightly geeky (which clearly my trainee and I have in common. But not too geeky I should add), but just seeing all these plans for parts of London - the Olympic Park, possible new London airport - I find really engrossing. I should have been an architect  or a civil engineer, if only I had any talent. So, in the absence of that, I guess I must settle for life as a pension lawyer. Sigh.

Maybe the most impressive thing there was 3D printer. Now this more than any device feels like science-fiction to me. Its just like Star Trek transporter beams. Well not quite. But I can't get over the idea that you can send a message and a model can be created at the other end. Although perhaps not quite like Start Trek. One inch takes about an hour to print. That would make a very dull episode.

I finished up back at the British Museum. Had intended to take Thibault for coffee in the Members' Room, which is a nice enough spot with views over the Great Court and its assortment of statues and totem poles. But I always go midweek when its quiet. In the end we settled for orange juices and a table with no view, given they were only taking orders for coffee, and actually getting a cup would be 10 minute wait. Well I will know better for next time - s a strictly midweek drinking hole.