The British Museum

The British Museum is a fine establishment that excels in both organization and quality of pieces. Besides having completely free admission to the public, there are also guided tours which meet at designated areas free of charge. There are donation boxes everywhere, and it is interesting to see among the British pound notes and coins that there are also American Bills, Euros, and money from all over the world. I noticed some kind of Arabic bill with “50” written on it. Every piece has an informative paragraph; even large display cases with multiple pieces have them numbered to correspond with their descriptions. Rooms are arranged by locations, chronology and themes such as “Money” or “Time”.

It is interesting to note that this is the first place I have seen Braille. It also seems like the worst possible place to have a blind person stumble around looking for the name of an exhibit they cannot see. And don’t you think someone would be traveling with a fully-abled person who would tell them the name of what they are “looking” at?

One of the top exhibits in the British Museum exhibits are the Elgin Marbles, or Parthenon. The sheer amount of collected pieces is large enough to fill its own museum, but it finds a nice home in a nice wing that is probably one-tenth of the museum. The pieces were brought over by some bloke, Lord Elgin who may or may not have purchased and brought everything to London illegally. Either way, the British Museum wants to keep them, and Greece has been working hard to reclaim their treasures.

Walking into the western side of the museum on ground floor, you first pass an impressive-enough display of part of a temple of the godess Nereid. It had some short-lived wonder as you wander into the much bigger room that serves as a grand hallway with marble battle scenes along the walls taken from the Parthenon. Worn bits, rough bits, and surprisingly detailed and intact pieces depict grand scenes of war, worshipping, and common life. Each section is divided up into dozens of scene descriptions and explanations. Countless hours, manpower went in by artisans and storytellers to create awe-inspiring pieces. The most impressive to me were the pieces at the extreme ends of the exhibit – the west and east pediment. The pieces were grand sculptures rather than reliefs that depicted their own scenes.

The one that caught my eye the most was a horse’s head on the far right side of the east pediment. It is simply a horse’s head, and not the grand fighting figures of warriors and centaurs, but it conveys the same kind of grand power. It was designed to hang over the side of the pediment, and is displayed as such. In a room where various heads, limbs and entire sections are broken off, missing or were defaced somehow, it was refreshing to see a part in its entirety. The smooth marble is detailed enough to make the horse actually look as if it has veins, muscles and life. Its exhausted expression makes it seem as if it is still panting for breath after serving as one of the moon goddess’ chariot horses. There are a few bumps, craters and scars in the stone-white marble, but it unexpectedly adds a realness to both the piece and gives it an overall more historic value. If it were too neat and polished up, one would think it might be made of plastic. There are many more fantastic things to see and learn, but the Parthenon horse head was my favorite.

National Portrait Gallery

I went to the National Portrait Gallery today, not to be confused with the National Gallery. The NPG is specifically meant for portraits of royals, notable folk, and features the human face in all its forms. It is another free museum of good quality that makes a good 3-4 hours pass satisfyingly.

The entrance isn’t as grand as The National Gallery or British Museum, but the display rooms make up for it in an efficient and comfortable manner. Most rooms have simple open ceilings and plain walls to let the pieces speak for themselves. Many have color schemes and specific lighting to highlight certain kinds of paintings, eras, or preserve the paintings from harsh light. The first level had the recent results of a nation-wide photography contest. As a display said, nothing like a contest brings out the best in people. Black and white, stylistic, narratives, and gritty photographs were everywhere.

In one area, there was a room from a specific artist who did disturbingly chaotic pictures of some famous chap named George Melly, a performer and writer. The room had a collection of 6 or 7 scribbley pictures of this guy that turned out to look like the Joker with a hat. I was also drawn to another room with a red sculpture of a man’s head. It was encased in a glass thingamabobber and was unmarked. A thermometer displayed the temperature inside. I searched the room and found the description that told me it was Marc Quinn’s sculpture entitled “Self”. The red color of the head came from several pints of the artist’s blood that he poured into a plastic mold of his head. It was then frozen, so needs to be in a specific environment to keep it’s shape. I didn’t quite buy the explanation, which included the old cliché “fragility of life” for the meaning of the piece, and seemed to me to be self-indulgent while utilizing shock value. While looking through the most contemporary sections of the gallery, I was very amused to see a guy looking at the paintings with the classic little French artist hat and glasses.

The museum really was arranged well. A long, thin escalator took visitors up to the level with historic paintings of Kings and nobles through the ages. I didn’t expect to get such a history lesson out of this trip, but each numbered room went up in numerical and chronological order, featuring works of kings, lords, ladies and more. After a while the painted posed pictures pretty much blur together and look the same. There was a period when all the subjects grew fat. They eventually straightened themselves out, but the picture size seemed to increase dramatically for lords and ladies alike.

The NPG is a must for any history buff. Actually, it is a must for anyone who wants an illustrated picture book of England’s history for free.

Fencing

I havn’t been to London yet… I’m sick of reiterating goals, expectations, and things to look forward to of the trip. With a lack of a previous London experience, I decided to write about something I associate with the location, even if it may be a bit of a generalization.

Fencing brings images of spoiled-rich brats prancing about in upper-class British accents while poking each other with swords. That being the case, I fence. These stereotypes are not always true, and I can say that confidently since I have fenced before. Though I am not sure what qualifies one as a “fencer”, it may have something to do with competing professionally (which I have never done). What I have is some experience spanning the range of 4 years, though I have fenced on and off for only months at a time.

There are three types of fencing swords, or styles. The foil is the most easily recognizable as the classic fencing sword. The foil requires fast reaction speed; the lightest blade of the three, the thin blade is meant to lightly strike the tough fabric of the jacket. The blade is flexable enough to bend without applying too much pressure. Feeling nothing more than a light poke, fencing with a foil is the beginning step in fencing.

Fencing with a sabre is the most intense. A round lasts only moments, since the goal is to strike, slap, or tap the opponent as fast as possible. The speed of the fencers and flatness of the metal blade often leaves long red welts on the upper back or midsection. The sabre also has an extra defensive part to cover the hand.

Fencing with an Epee is what you get when you cross a heavier, more substantial version of a foil with an all-encompassing striking area. To score a point with an Epee, you can strike almost anywhere on the body, as opposed to a more limited area with the foil. This sword requires more swordplay than the rest and most-closely resembles the swashbuckling seen in movies.