Occupy LSX

I decided I needed to take a trip to visit the Occupy London Stock Exchange (LSX) site at St. Paul’s Cathedral. For those who don’t know, this London Occupy site has been the focus of an important discussion about the role of the church in people’s lives. Three high-ranking church officials resigned over the mismanagement of the protest movement on their doorstep, and for weeks a debate has raged over the position of the church in defending the needs of the poor.

As I write this, an eviction notice has been served, and a legal case is proceeding, but for the moment the Occupy site remains. It continues to be a peaceful, and respectful protest. From what I can tell, the media has gone from being cautiously supportive, to openly negative and nasty, and currently to blithely ignoring the continuation of the Occupation. Next week however, on November 30th, a country-wide general strike is called for. I suspect we will be drowning in a sea of contradictory media reports and opninons.

On the day I went to St. Paul’s, the fall wind had picked up. It was sunny, but sudden gusts picked tents off of the ground, fluttering them 5 feet in the air before dropping them down again on the cobblestones.

Looking from the steps of St. Paul's to the Tent City University

A well-organized information tent was connected to “Tent City University”, a tent space dedicated to encouraging research, thought and intelligent discussion. “Needs” boards were posted (First Aid supplies, kitchen supplies) as were volunteer opportunities. I had heard that a newspaper had been produced a few days earlier and asked if I could see a copy.  It is an impressively produced, well-written journal. This is a very organized movement, and their dedication to education and discussion is paramount.

There are speakers and events every day at LSX. On the day I was there, Manuel Castels was speaking. Castels is a sociologist and an expert in the field of information technology and society. His “Information Age Trilogy” is one of the most frequently quoted sources for understanding contemporary communication. He was visiting the site en route between Barcelona and Los Angeles and he spoke about strengthening the connection between the urban space and cyberspace. The Occupy presence will create change through the lateral thinking possible in cyberspace. But it is still essential to initiate the dialogue in the urban environment. He stressed the need to avoid violence at all costs, suggesting that if the movement was evicted from St. Paul’s “there are lots of other churches in London”. Smaller groups could occupy more locations, and remain connected through the internet. This would not dilute the movement. It will only grow in strength. He spoke about the need to stay connected, “our imagination and our courage should do the rest”.

The lunchtime crowds listening to Manuel Castels

Following Castels was the daily meeting of the General Assembly. I must admit that I haven’t been following the political structure of the Occupy movement closely. While I have been reading the media, I haven’t been following the actual source. Writing this blog is a way of beginning to put things into a perspective for myself. Those of you reading the blog in other countries will have heard other stories, and may have other responses to the movement. But I am impressed by the intelligence and innovation of Occupy London, and by their honest desire to work from a consensus basis.

Having had my own experiences trying to operate an organization through consensus, I know how very difficult it is to get anything done in this way. So I was really encouraged to hear that there are daily facilitation training sessions to help people to learn how to keep the “flow of information and the flow of action though the consensus process”. They recognize that the Occupy movement represents all segments of society and therefore there will be many different perspectives and beliefs. But as one speaker from the General Assembly said: “Deep political disagreements shouldn’t prevent us working together”.

It is, as a journalist recently remarked, a very young movement, one that is still finding its feet. Yet it is already a complex societal structure, with a plethora of different working groups (ranging in topics from finance to health to media). Looking at the calendar of events for next week, I can see a full schedule of presentations and open discussions on such topics as “social dreaming”, “overcoming negativity” and “the misery of job insecurity – a catalyst for social change?”.

Perhaps most surprisingly, and most excitingly, every effort is being made to remain inclusive. There were recent media statements about “undesirables” at the camp site. An offensive article in the London Evening Standard with the headline: “Needle bins at St Paul’s camp to beat junkie health hazard“ prompted a statement from the camp: We have never sought to hide the fact that some of the more vulnerable members of our society have sought solace at our camps, not so much for the food and shelter we provide as for the sense of community we have established in contrast to their experience in wider society.”

What I saw at LSX was noble, and fascinating. It seems clear to me that we are witnessing the birth of a new form of political expression that will use the internet to reach its ultimate manifestation, whatever that may be. Hopefully it will be a peaceful revolution.

“Occupy London is a place where everyone is valued for what they contribute to our society and everyone is encouraged to participate in that society to the best of their ability. We are very clear about the standards we expect but we are, above all, inclusive. That is something to be proud of.”

http://occupyLSX.org/

A Sublime Day in London

The Leonardo Da Vinci show at the National Gallery, “Leonardo Da Vinci: Painter at the Court of Milan”, is billed as “the most complete display of Leonard’s surviving paintings ever held” and has been the talk of the town since it opened. Advance tickets were sold out immediately, but the Gallery reserved 500 tickets per day, released on the day. The box office opens at 10:00 a.m and you are advised that you’ll spend about an hour and a half in line.

Tim got to the Gallery at 8:00 a.m. and there was already a good line up. He was told that he would get numbers 84 & 85, so he settled into coffee and chat with others in the queue, shivering in the November wind.

By the time that I arrived at 9:30, with more coffee, there were over 400 people in line.

The line up at 8:00. It goes way back under the archway

There was a vendor selling coffee and breakfasts, gallery staff giving everyone regular up-dates, and reading material about the show was provided to help us while away the time. The English really do know about queuing and there was an atmosphere of camaraderie and friendship.

We got in to see the show at 11:00. Inside, it was easy to feel claustrophobic. You could really only see the pieces by staying in the flow of the line up, moving slowly along the walls. I allowed myself to go into a calm state, reading the information, spending as much time as I needed with each drawing and painting, the crowd sometimes moving past me like a river gently bumping past a stone.

The show was a revelation. “The Lady with the Ermine” is hailed as the “second-most famous woman in Leonardo’s life”. It’s an astonishing painting of Cecilia Gallerani, 16-year old mistress of Ludovico Sforza, Da Vinci’s patron. In the painting, she is gazing off to the side, an ermine in her arms. It’s a provocative and mysterious portrait. She and the ermine (the symbol of purity) are said to be looking at Ludovico off stage, the light in the painting emanating from him. It is the first time that the painting has been exhibited in Britain and she is definitely the star of the show.

My favourite piece is “The Burlignton House Cartoon”, an unfinished drawing of the Virgin Mary, sitting on her mother’s lap (St. Anne) with the infant Jesus and St. John the Baptist beside them. There was a beautiful sketch of the same scene as well. The great maternal love in the pictures makes me weep. He catches a beautiful, human, relationship between Mary and her baby that is timeless.

There was a fabulous display of his sketches for the saints in The Last Supper. Da Vinci stressed the importance of gesture to show character: “A good painter is to paint two main things, namely, man and the working of man’s mind. The first is easy, the second is difficult, for it is to be represented through the gestures and movements of the limbs”.

A quote from his notebook reads like a playwright, taking notes. You get a vision of Milan, 1493, as Leonardo was contemplating gesture and groups of people: “One who was drinking and has left the glass in its place and turned his head towards the speaker. Another, twisting the fingers of his hands together, turns with stern brow to his companion. Another with his hands spread open shows the palms, and shrugs his shoulders up to his ears, making a mouth of astonishment. Another speaks into his neighbour’s ear and he, as he listens to him, turns towards him to lend an ear, while he holds a knife in one hand, and the other the loaf half cut through by the knife. Another who has turned, holding a knife in his hand, with his hand a glass onto the table.”

We left the Gallery feeling very full.

Having feasted our eyes, we decided to go to St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields for an evening concert as part of the “Just This Day” project. “Just This Day” is dedicated to promoting “Stillness” and in particular, “Silence in Schools”  Apparently, recent studies show the benefits of “strong silence”, a deliberate and focussed stillness, to include higher exam results, increase in self-esteem and a decrease in negative behaviour.

St. Martin’s is in the heart of busy London, yet is known as an oasis of calm. The church was hosting  “Just This Day” — a day of silence and discussion of stillness. But we knew none of this at the time. We just arrived. As the concert began, we were requested to sit, and feel the stillness. Why is it that stillness feels so much more profound when it is enjoyed together with several hundred other people?

Outside St. Martin's-in-the-Fields, after the concert

We were treated to an evening of music by Arvo Pärt sung by the “Choral Scholars of St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields” and played by the Ceruti Quartet. There was early Renaissance music sung by Dame Emma Kirkby and played on the lute by Jakob Lindberg, and a piece by contemporary composer David Stoll, “The Practice of Mediation”. It was all sublime. Music of the spheres. Spiritually uplifting.

We walked back to Waterloo station over the Millenium Bridge, the lights of the southbank reflecting in the water, happy and still in the middle of the city.View of the Southbank from the Bridge

War and Peace and Giving Thanks

You can get £12 tickets to shows at the National Theatre on the day of performance. They start selling at 9:30 in the morning, so you have to get there first thing and line up. So I got up early on Saturday and headed to town and got a ticket for the matinee of “The Kitchen” by Arnold Wesker.

Ticket in hand, I had a lot of time before the show. I decided I would head over to the Imperial War Museum, a 15-minute walk from the National Theatre. But as soon as I stepped out of the theatre, I was approached by a couple of earnest young men asking me if I would take part in the Aviva Insurance “You are the Big Picture” campaign.

I am a fan of Aviva. They sponsor the National Theatre Live broadcasts that have allowed me to see great NT performances while in Ottawa. For “You Are the Big Picture”, Aviva is photographing thousands of people and for every picture they use they are donating £2 to Save the Children. I was asked if I wanted to take part. Aviva had set up a tent outside the theatre, and everything would take place right there. A makeup artist would “Just give me a little Jeuge” (have no idea how to spell this but everyone said it – keep the g soft when you say it), and a “world famous photographer” would take my picture. I would be given an 8 x 10 glossy – all free of charge. Well I said yes, of course!

The Aviva tent outside the National Theatre. My 15 seconds of celebrity.

Inside the tent, all shapes and sizes of people were getting “jeugged” and treated like celebrities. We told that our pictures would be projected on the wall of the National Theatre that night. Appropriately “jeugged”, I went into the photo shoot, had a bit of chit chat (click, click), smiled affably (click, click), was told I was very photographic (click, click) and thanked. My photo is being sent to me in the mail.

My 15 seconds of fame being over, I headed to the Imperial War Museum for a dose of reality. The War Museum was opened by King George V in 1920 and is a “museum of social history, concentrating on people’s experiences of war, the way they behave in war and the impact of war on society.”

Inside the Imperial War Museum

I wanted to go to the museum to see a special exhibit called The Children’s War. Focusing on the child evacuees during the Second World War, the exhibit gives a poignant view into war through the eyes of children. There are diary excerpts, toys, photos, evacuee kits and a recreation of a house from the 1940s to give you a direct and tangible sense of life at the time.

The British evacuation during the Second World War was the largest evacuation in history. By the end of the war 3.5 million people, mostly children, had been evacuated from their homes. They were primarily evacuated to the countryside in England but thousands were sent to Canada, the United States, South Africa, Australia and the Caribbean. Posters of the time exhorted mothers not to be tempted to bring their children back to the city:”Children are safer in the country: Leave them there.” It was an incredible exhibit and left me thinking a lot about Tim’s mother raising her 3 daughters in Gloucestershire during the war, while his father was in service. She always described their evacuation to the countryside as somewhat idyllic. For others, it was clearly a nightmare from which they never recovered.

On my way back toward the National Theatre, I came upon a market with just a dozen or so stalls behind the Royal Festival Hall.

The Market behind Royal Festival Hall

I bought a wonderful Moroccan Falafel with spicy Harissa sauce for lunch. Seems every weekend that I am out and about in London I come across a different market. This one was a perfect transition from the exhibit at the museum to the play at the National.

“The Kitchen”, by Arnold Wesker, takes place in a kitchen of a large restaurant circa 1950.

"The Kitchen" at The National Theatre

It is a director’s tour de force where 30 actors portray chefs, waitresses, cleaning staff, proprietors all in a balletic harmony and disharmony of action. Very few theatres in the world could produce something on this scale. It is a restaurant that apparently serves 1500 for lunch, and you believe it as the orders pour in and chefs chop and cook in a flurry of activity, flirting and fighting. It is a United Nations of workers “backstage” in the kitchen, all of whom are struggling to find their place in post-war England. A mammoth study of character and movement, there is also an element of allegory. A huge and fascinating piece of theatre, it would take at least 5 viewings to see all of the action.

I treated myself to a quick “Autumn Cocktail” at the market as I headed back to the train to Surbiton to begin Thanksgiving preparations for the next day.

Thanksgiving is not celebrated in England, or anywhere outside of North America I realize. But I am pretty hardwired for a harvest celebration at this time of year. Maddy hasn’t had a chance to celebrate Thanksgiving for years, and Amanda Lunberg is American and was definitely up for celebrating, even if it was not exactly the right time of year for her. So we all decided to do a big Thanksgiving dinner with Peta. Bryan, Penny & Eric.

The Brits are fascinated by the details of the holiday, trying to figure out if there is anything special that we do other than cooking and eating. “We are thankful. That’s all. Thankful for the harvest. Thankful to be with family and friends. Thankful for a holiday.” To which Tim adds, “Thankful that it has nothing to do with presents”.

Peta helped us to set up the harvest table. Jo made fresh salsa from the French tomato harvest for our hors d’oeuvres. We cooked a large, free-range turkey and made all of the “trimmings” – stuffing, mashed potatoes, roast potatoes, roast onions, gravy, squash casserole and Tim’s fabulous red cabbage.

Maddy's Pecan Pie

Maddy made broccoli casserole and her famous pecan pie (Bryan says she is not allowed in the house without one). Amanda Lunberg made delicious pumpkin pie and Penny made apple crumble from her apple harvest. Mid-meal we took a break and were entertained by Eric with photos of their recent trip to Turkey and Greece.

Bryan opened Cremant and we all got very noisy and thankful, together.

Where stories take you

A former student and friend of Tim’s, Trent Reedy, came into town from the States to publicize his book “Words in the Dust”, which has just been published in the UK. Trent was a soldier in Afghanistan. He went into the military to pay for his college education when 9/11 changed his life. His book for young adults came out of his experiences with the children that he met in Afghanistan.

On our way to meet Trent, we walked through the Old Vic Tunnels so that Tim could see where I had gone to see Orpheus and Eurydice.

Old Vic Tunnels

The tunnels led us into a long and wonderful stroll along the Southbank. Saturday on the Southbank is a festival of treats – there were booths selling every kind of food imaginable, living statues, dancers and musicians. A woman was playing an instrument called a “Hang Drum” that looked like a small cliché of a flying saucer and sounded like an unearthly combination of an oil drum and a harp. I couldn’t find a video of the woman we heard, but this clip from YouTube will give you a sense of the potential of the instrument. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c0xxnFqdBCE&feature=related

We met Trent for dinner at the Thameside Pub, near London Bridge. Other than his tour of duty in Afghanistan, Trent hasn’t been outside of the US, so his trip to the UK was quite an adventure. Trent also loves theatre, so we decided that his arrival in London gave us a perfect excuse to see the stage version of “The Railway Children”. After our pub dinner, we walked back along the Southbank to Waterloo station to see the play.

Tim and Trent Reedy on the Southbank

The Railway Children has been playing in London for a few years and one of the reasons for its success is the setting – the play takes place in the Waterloo train station (a Toronto version takes place in a train roundhouse). It is a part of Waterloo that used to house the Eurostar to Paris. The Eurostar now goes to St. Pancras Station, so a whole section of Waterloo is unused. And if there is one thing I am learning about London it is that NO space is ever left empty.

To get to the “theatre”, you must pass through the former customs and immigration areas. Snack bars are in use as such, so you can get any manner of treats before seeing the play. The bleachers for the audience seats are arranged on either side of the train platforms. The action takes place along the length of the platforms, as well as on sliding stages that come along the train tracks. At one point a full train arrives on the tracks. It is a wonderfully effective staging that easily transports you to a kinder, gentler time.

I had forgotten entirely that I had read the Railway Children, and as each new thing happened I could greet it like an old friend. It is a kind story, with a generosity of spirit. The children are aware that there are adult secrets they cannot to share, things outside of their understanding. They do their best to solve problems, but they are only barely players in their story. They have adventures while the larger adventures of life happen around them.

As an audience member, I was grateful for the respite from the intensity of the outside world. From wars, illnesses and consequences. It was a lovely little holiday of an evening.

Tate à Tate

Last Wednesday, we decided to have a Tate à Tate – an exploration of the Tate Britain in the morning and the Tate Modern in the afternoon. The Tate Britain was listing a show on “The Romantics”, which ended up as mostly a show on Turner. It was wonderful to see so many Turners, and to see the evolution of his style, but it was a bit disappointing not to see some of the others of the period. After a little pub lunch down the road we decided to go back to the gallery in hunt of Pre-Raphaelites. We were rewarded with a few of our most favourite pieces (some with a definite flair for the “Elegant Gothic Lolita” — see Camden Town!) – Millais’ Mariana and his Ophelia, Waterhouse’s The Lady of Shalott, Brune-Jones’ The Golden Stairs (looking for all the world like the angels out for a union break), and the magnificent Singer Sargent portrait of Ellen Terry as Lady Macbeth, which is enormous and vigourous. It is larger than life and full of passion, as she was.

Ellen Terry as Lady Macbeth

After we had feasted on those paintings, we hopped onto a river ferry to take us to the Tate Modern. The Tate runs a ferry between the two galleries and it really is the most wonderful way to journey down the river, past the Houses of Parliament, the London Eye, the Globe. The city was built on the Thames, and being on the river connects you to centuries of commerce and trade.

Tim on the Thames with the Houses of Parliament

When Tim & I go to galleries, we split up and agree to meet later. We both have different things we are interested in, and this way we have things to share when we meet up  — “Did you see the … ?!” is usually how it starts.

“Did you see the Sunflower Seeds?” said Tim. “Did you see the Staircase?” I countered.

“Sunflower Seeds” by Al Weiwei is a huge pile of what seem to be millions of sunflower seeds on the floor of the gallery. However, each seed is hand-made of porcelain, combining the idea of mass production (so deeply associated with China) and individual craftsmanship. Sunflower seeds are a common snack in China, but carry associations with the Cultural Revolution, when propaganda posters depicted Chairman Mao as the sun and the masses of people as sunflowers turning towards him. Weiwei also remembers sharing sunflower seeds as a gesture of compassion in a time of extreme poverty. “Your own acts and behaviour tell the world who you are and at the same time what kind of society you think it should be” Ai Weiwei

“Staircase – III”, by Do Ho Suh, is a polyester and wire installation that takes over a whole room. A perfectly made fabric staircase hangs in the centre of the room, complete with balustrade, electrical sockets and light fixtures. It hangs from a transparent fabric “floor” above, through which the balustrade can be seen. The staircase hovers tantalizingly above your head, opening out to a door in the middle of the air.

Staircase III by Do Ho Suh

Great discoveries.

We left as the gallery closed at 6:00. It was a lovely afternoon and we walked from the Southbank to Trafalgar Square, heading to the Crypt at St. Martin’s in the Fields. The Crypt has a cafeteria-style restaurant, with good wine, delicious tapas, a great vegetarian mushroom ragout, and Jazz every Wednesday night. This really is an 18th century crypt – the floor is made of gravestones and the beautiful brick arches make for fabulous acoustics for the band. Shanti Paul Jayasinha is a mellow trumpeter, playing original music in an Afro-Cuban and Brazilian style,

and his band suited this intimate venue perfectly. It was one of those nights when I could hear all of the layers in the music. Simple, clean and elegant. A perfect ending to a day of visual feasting.