On the road again: London, day 10WorldCon, day 5

The convention wrapped up today with some morning and early afternoon programming.  I left the con hotel and headed back to my favorite one in London proper; I like staying where I know the area and much is within a mile or two on foot. 

I spent the heart of the afternoon at the Tate Britain, enjoying both the parts of its normal collection on display and its British Folk Art exhibit. 

The museum had given several of its large rooms to a commission it had made to Phyllida Barlow.  Just about all of it, including this example, left me cold and uncaring. 

Click an image to see a larger version.

I do not doubt that there is more to this sort of art than I appreciate, but at times viewing it I cannot help but wondering if I'm being put on a bit. 

On a brighter note, though I did not previously know the work of Ralph Peacock, this portrait, Ethel,

and other pieces of his on display, such as this one, The Sisters,

 made me determined to see more.

The Tate Britain also turned me into a lover of rich blue walls for galleries; check out how awesome this room looks.

The British Folk Art exhibition fell physically in about the middle of my time at the museum, so I went with the flow and hit it then.  Most of it left me cold, intellectually interested but not otherwise engaged.  A few pieces, however, intrigued me.  One was the collection whose unknown artist had named God in a Bottle.

Both the title and the pieces made me want to start writing a story of the same name.

I was also touched by this Walter Greaves seascape, Nocturne in Blue and Gold.

(Sorry about my reflection in the painting's glass cover.)  I don't know Greaves' work, but if the museum's signs are correct, he was a primitive artist whose work grew immensely in quality when he started studying with Whistler.

Several pieces of prisoner-of-war art were on display; this one caught my fancy.

I had never thought of POW art as a sub-genre of folk art, but it makes great sense. 

Mary Linnell was also an intriguing folk artist, a woman who made pieces in fabric and tended to copy classic compositions.  Here we have her self portrait.

Her work was once popular but did not fit the canon, both because of her materials and her copying of the poses of others, so it sort of fell between the artistic cracks.  I can't say I particularly liked it, but it did make me think about classifications and the ways we measure originality in the arts. 

Back in the museum proper, I spent a fair amount of time enjoying this Gainsborough, Wooded Landscape with a Peasant Resting. 

And this one, Sunset:  Carthorses Drinking at a Stream.

I feel obliged to note at this point that the remaining blog posts for this trip will be rather short, because I'm blowing it out on this one.

Two other artists who were new to me but whose work I now plan to seek are Joseph Wright of Derby, whose An Iron Forge

I found intriguing for its use of light, and the unfortunately named Marmaduke Cradock, whose A Peacock and Other Birds in a Landscape

caught my eye. 

This Constable sketch for Hadleigh Castle was as lovely to me as many of his finished works. 

Then the exhibits hit the Pre-Raphaelite era, and I, of course, swooned at the art.  I know it's sappy and romantic of me, but I absolutely love the art from several of these folks. 

Please ignore the lights reflected in this gorgeous Frederic Leighton, The Bath of Psyche. 

I'm running out of steam--it's very late here--but I cannot stop without showing you this lovely piece from perhaps my favorite of the wild men of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood (PRB), Dante Gabriel Rosetti. 

Called Aurelia (Fazio's Mistress), it is romantic and lovely, more in person than this photo can ever suggest. 

Rosetti didn't just start painting this way, of course.  He grew with experience.  I was thrilled to get to see the first oil painting he completed, The Girlhood of Mary Virgin.

It was also the first to carry the PRB notice.

I apologize in advance for the light reflection you're about to see, but I do not know how many times I have studied photos of Rosetti's Proserpine, and here it was in person.

I am skipping so many more great paintings by many other wonderful artists, but I can't pass by Rosetti's Woman in Yellow.

I also have to include one from the delightful Lawrence Alma-Tadema, A Favourite Custom.

And then there was the entire room of original work from William Blake--a fraction of the museum's Blake collection, but still a wonder to behold.  I have long found Blake fascinating, a man so tortured by his faith--and lack thereof--that he could never find peace.  This piece, The Inscription Over the Gate, from his Dante series

was particularly arresting, an odd blend of colors and poses that made me stop and study it for a bit.

After the museum, I worked for a while and then went to see Skylight, the David Hare play, starring Bill Nighy and Carey Mulligan. 

On the walk to the theatre, I encountered an admonition some would find useful

and a new organic ice cream shop, from which I enjoyed a small cup of mango ice cream.  I offer this photo of the front of the cup by way of endorsement, for the ice cream was good. 

The slogan on the bottom of the cup's rear simply charmed me.

The play was powerful and engaging, with all three cast members excellent.  Nighy, one of my favorite movie character actors, here was a prowling, raging, hyper-kinetic lead man.  Mulligan, whose film work has always underwhelmed me, turned in an amazing performance as a still but strong presence whose eruptions were all the more powerful for her normally calm demeanor.  I have a huge, new-found respect for her talent.

All that said, the play was ultimately emotionally unsatisfying, far more successful as economic commentary than as an inquiry into the human condition.  I enjoyed it, but I wanted a stronger ending. 

Dinner was at an interesting fusion place whose name says it all, Asia de Cuba.  Perhaps I'll show some of its dishes in a later blog, but suffice to say that if the name at all intrigues you, you should absolutely check it out.

On the walk back to the hotel, I encountered a bit of unintentional comedy in this sign in the window of a hair-cutting place.

I thought I understood what a "BRAZILIAN" was in the context of such an establishment, and I also thought I understood what "BLOWDRY" meant in the same context, but it never occurred to me to put the two words together.  The mind boggles.  Don't even get me started on how there can ever be highlights from only half head.

And so I laughed my way back to the hotel and some hours of work.

Tomorrow marks my last full day in London, and I have no daytime plans, save to sleep quite late given how very late I am getting to bed.

On the road again: London, day 9WorldCon, day 4

The high point of today was the Hugo Awards ceremony, the SF/F community's annual gathering in celebration of the best of its works of the years.  I've dreamed of winning a Hugo since I was quite young, so I've gone to the Hugos at every WorldCon I've attended.  I find them bittersweet affairs, having never been nominated, much less won, but I wouldn't miss them.

Publisher Toni could not attend, so I was her designated acceptor, should she have won in the Best Editor Long Form category in which she was nominated.  (As deserving as she is of the award, and she very much is, she did not win it; the estimable Ginjer Buchanan won it in the year in which she retired.  Well done, Ginjer!)  Because I was to accept for Toni, I got to attend the pre-awards reception and then sit down front with the nominees.  It was quite a lovely experience; I hope one day to repeat it on my own behalf.

On the walk to the reception, I saw these buildings, which I absolutely adore.

Click an image to see a larger version.

If you zoom in on them, you'll see how burned out they are, skeletons just waiting to play roles in some post-apocalypse or alien-invasion story.  I'm sure I'll use them in something.

At the reception, two celebrities unexpectedly appeared:  Peter Davidson and David Tennant.  As things turned out, both must have come should their shows have won awards (neither did), so no one in the main audience saw them.  All the people at the reception with whom I spoke were, however, a-twitter at their presence.  All the women with whom I spoke agreed that Tennant was far hotter in person than on screen.  I have to agree that he is entirely more beautiful in person than on screen.

If you enlarge this, you can just see him. 

The photo does him no justice; trust me.

After the ceremony ended, I had the opportunity, courtesy of being Toni's designated acceptor, to attend the Hugo Losers party.  Though I have long wanted to go, I declined; it was not my party.  Should I one day be nominated, however, you can bet your ass I'll go.

I spent the rest of the evening socializing with friends and then working.

Tomorrow, the con ends, I return to my favorite hotel, and I see another play.

On the road again: London, day 8WorldCon, day 3

In an amazing move due entirely to my having a reading scheduled at 12:30, today I for the first time took advantage of the free breakfast buffet that comes with the hotel room.  I see these things rarely, almost always preferring to sleep through them, so I approach them with the wariness of a jungle explorer encountering a new and oddly smelly breed of giant snake.

I'm happy to report that I survived the meal, even after sampling the eggs, floppy bacon, sausage, and cold baked beans; I had to approach the classic English breakfast. 

I'm even more happy to report that, to my amazement, people I did not know attended my reading.  In fact, the audience numbered 18, and I knew only two of its members.  I presented them with five very different options, and a few brave souls opted for my short story, "Reunion," so they carried the day and I read all of it that time permitted.  Those in attendance seemed to enjoy it, and I had a pleasant time re-reading it after not seeing it for multiple years.  All in all, as best I could tell, a successful reading.

In a small area on the edge of the dealers' room and not far from the art show, for reasons I don't quite understand, today the con featured a small exhibit of fancy breeds of pigeon.  I approached this exhibit with even less enthusiasm than the breakfast, but curiosity made me go.

I am so very glad I did.  Pigeons can be awesome!  The breeds on display were lovely and each completely different from the next.  In this shot, the curator is holding a bird whose feathers shimmered in the light. 

Click an image to see a larger version.

Most of my shots did not come out well, but this one isn't bad and should afford you a look at a few of the varieties.

In the back of the cage, you can just make out the Jacobin's head among its ruff feathers.

A few more variations.

And, really, who can resist species known as Almond Tumblers and Scandaroons?

Certainly not I.

After a bit more wandering about the convention, I returned to the room to work for a while, and then headed out to meet a group of folks for dinner.  That meal was at a nearby pub, where a group of soccer fans held sway and cheered loudly for their team each time it did anything at all interesting.  The food was passable and the conversation good, but then it was time to go see the WorldCon masquerade, something I've done at every WorldCon I've attended since my first in 1978.

This one featured 3 young contestants and 25 adult competitors.  The costumes were fun, though the presentations tended to run a bit long for my taste.

After a bit more wandering through the con parties, I turned in relatively early, my usual case of con melancholia hitting me rather strongly. 

On the road again: London, day 7WorldCon, day 2

LonCon 3, this year's WorldCon, was in full swing all day today.  I had worked until very, very late last night, so I slept rather late today and missed all the morning activities.  I also spent a big chunk of the late afternoon and early evening working, but I managed to fit some con activities into the day as well.

Before I talk further about today, however, I have to show you Mr. Whippy.  (Don't blame me for where your mind just went.)  Mr. Whippy, a staple of multiple old British comedies, had a truck at the convention center yesterday. 

Click an image to see a larger version.

The product Mr. Whippy serves is somewhere between soft-serve ice cream and heavy whipped cream, reasonably tasty but lighter than most Americans would expect.

The ExCeL center, which is hosting this con, is enormous.  To reach some of the function spaces, you have to cross this enormous open area. 

Then, you have to go up this staircase (this shot is from its top). 

After that, you walk down a single long hall for a city block or two.  Amazing.

All the parties here happen in a common fan activity area, which I shot here from above. 

In Wednesday's post, I showed the main long hall of the convention center.  At that time, it was fairly empty.  Today, it was a bit busier.

In the course of today, I hung with several writer friends, attended the Chesley awards ceremony, went to the ASFA reception in the art show, ate a Cornish pasty, wandered by some of the parties (all of which were in the common fan area) for cities bidding to host future WorldCons, and talked with some young writers.

Not a bad day, though filled with way more work than I had hoped.

Tomorrow, more con!

On the road again: London, day 5WorldCon, day 0

Sleep and work and sleep and work ate the morning, and then it was off for lunch and a walk around Covent Garden.  In the course of this stroll, I ran across one of my favorite restaurant signs.

Click an image to see a larger version.

The image is for an Italian place, Polpo, at which I've never eaten.  I just love the image.

After lunch, it was time to change hotels and locations so I could attend the World SF Convention (WorldCon, this year LonCon 3) without paying enormous cab fares every day. 

After setting up in a new hotel, I registered for the con and then explored the ExCel Convention Center, the hosting facility.  Wow, is this place big. 

In this shot you can almost see the light coming from the doors on the other side of the place, a few blocks away. 

The docklands area has a predictably industrial vibe, though the convention center is quite upscale.

Tomorrow, the con begins in earnest!