Kettle's Yard

     "I thought we'd make our way to Kettle's Yard, if that's alright."
     "I was hoping you'd say that."

     Well, not exactly a verbatim transcript of our conversation on Tuesday morning as we were leaving 'Hot Numbers Coffee' on Trumpington St. And that's about it - if you've read this blog before you will know all about Kettle's Yard and why it is so unbelievably special - on with the photographs!!!

St Edward, King and Martyr, Cambridge I

     Tucked away, in the remaining warp and weft of the Medieval city, stands St Edward's church, midway betwixt St Benet and Great St Mary.  From King's Parade you enter a narrow, atmospheric alley between shops - St Edward's Passage.  In a short while you emerge in a small urban space, quite picturesque, almost village-y.  Sadly that atmosphere is not maintained at the e end, where the massive Guild Hall looms over all.

     St Edward's, is itself a rather village-y affair, humble with an interesting mix of materials particularly the use of plaster, which here and elsewhere in se England suggests the 18th & early 19th century.  There is a slim w tower, short nave (no clearstory), and chancel with two large chapels that were built to serve two of the University colleges - Trinity Hall on the N & Clare College on the S.*  They were apparently constructed post 1446, though the s chapel, if I didn't know better, looks entirely Dec to me (Yes, I know the tracery is probably 19th century or later).  It reminds me somehow of the s elevation of the chancel of St Benedict in Lincoln, although they are in fact completely different designs.   I can't help feel the design would be improved by a high pitched roof.  Wide, flat e end; e window by Sir George Gilbert Scott.  The church has been rather harshly restored at some point in the 19th century, probably by Brandon.  The west window and door are particularly regrettable.  I think Sir Albert Richardson worked here in the 20th century.

    A long time ago, when we were teenagers, a friend and I worshiped in this church one Sunday morning, sitting behind two elderly ladies, one of whom spent the whole service loudly criticizing the priest.

* Reginald of Ely, the first master mason of King's College chapel, has been suggested as the designer of these chapels, but the evidence is flimsy.  Firstly there is the question of the window in the s chapel.  It is supposed to be like Ely's tracery at King's College Chapel, but I can't see it.  Secondly, how can we trust the current tracery anyway?  If it was Ely's work it would be incredibly anachronistic.  Nearly a hundred years out of date.

Great St Mary, Cambridge I

     I am in Cambridge. Here for three days.  I arrived yesterday after a 'trying' journey from the Infernal City, and I am staying in the serene St Catherine's College King's Parade.  My room is very close to the chapel and inside, at the moment, a choir is practicing.  In less than half an hour the college clock will strike the hour.

     This morning earlier, before I had to be at the station to meet a friend, I went to Great St Mary to take some photographs for the blog. Sadly you will have to wait until a day or so for some pictures of the interior as there was some sort of conference going on.  This large church is both the civic and University church.  Appropriately enough then, it stands poised between 'Market Hill' and 'Senate House Hill', the academic centre of the University.  It is built of stone (rubble and ashlar) and some brick.  The stone will have come across the Fens from the quarries of the Limestone Belt, such a Barnack and Ketton.  It  is a Late Gothic basilican plan church with square ended chancel, and side chapels; an ostentatious display of the mercantile wealth and piety of the city and the prestige of the University.  A proud building rather like the other great burghal churches of E Anglia and Essex, such as Lavenham and Saffron Walden.  Rubble walled aisles contrasting with sophisticated ashlar clearstory.  No n porch, but on the s side there are the rood loft stairs and a south porch which looks entirely Victorian.  Apparently, it is a copy of the Medieval original. The base of the w tower is of the same period as the church but the top story and battlements are Post-Reformation.  It is surrounded by a small graveyard, but, I believe, it was once hemmed in by buildings.  Below the e window is the Boer War Memorial, cast bronze in a Gothic frame.  Restorations by Essex, Salvin, and George Gilbert Scott.

A Night of Extremes: 'Toomorrow'

     I have, for the past few years, been on a quest to find the definitive and positive cinematic depiction of Swinging London, and I have come to the conclusion that that search is essentially futile.  Such a depiction simply does not exist.  The best films, cinematically, are, at the very least, ambivalent, if not sharply critical.  Of the others, the not so good, 'Otley' makes a fair stab at things, but the 'Swinging London' setting is perhaps coincidental.

     On Wednesday, after a day in Cardiff, we made another fruitless attempt.  We watched 'Toomorrow', 1970, directed by Val Guest, who called the film 'the first space musical'.  Harry Saltzman and pop impresario Don Krishner were the producers.  Val Guest wrote the screenplay.  The result is simply dreadful.  It even fails to have any camp appeal.  A fledgling pop-group, the terminally twee 'Toomorrow' (assembled Krisher), are abducted by aliens who need their oomph restored, but judging by the lackluster acting the band may not have had that much oomph to spare.
     Apart from a groovy spaceship, the best bits are: an early film performance by Olivia Newton John, and the appearance of Margaret Nolan as the alien 'Johnson'.  Hers is quite the best performance, as the film briefly transforms into a 70s sex comedy.  Sadly, Olivia Newton John has her wings clipped throughout. And what those two fine actors Roy Dotrice and Roy Marsden are doing in this car crash heaven knows.

     The finale of 'Toomorrow' was shot in the The Round House, a vast former railway shed in north London, used then, as now, as an events venue.  Included in the DVD extras is a 1969 recording of a performance of 'I could Turn on You' in the Round House by the American theatre troupe 'The Living Theatre'.  Dreadful, but of a completely different magnitude.

Toomorrow

1970

Producer:               Harry Saltzman, Don Krishner

Director:                 Val Guest

Cinematographer: Dick Bush

Joanna Crawford

 

     A few minutes ago I heard of the death of Joanna Crawford.  The name will probably mean little, or nothing to you, but she was one of the best art teachers I have encountered.  She taught Life Drawing at Stamford Art Centre on Thursday morning, until Lockdown struck.  Her classes were invariably full, with people travelling some distance to attend.  She was shrewd and preceptive, perhaps a little daunting, and she managed to draw out the best from us, no matter our level of skill.

      I know little of her life, except I believe she was born in Poland, possibly of German extraction.  She taught 'the rude soldiery' of the British Army at some point, and had a china shop in Stamford, and in retirement she taught life drawing.  

     Moving here, I missed the her and the life drawing classes immensely.

Currently reading.....

     This arrived in the post yesterday.  The final instalment of Anthony Powell's great, patrician novel sequence 'A Dance to the Music of Time'.  I've been reading them on and off for years with varying levels of enthusiasm.  The first three novels in particular are slow going.  Things, however, pick up with 'At Lady Mollys'.  I am currently reading the penultimate novel 'Temporary Gods', set in Venice and London. 

     A quick word about the front covers.  'A Dance to the Music of Time' has had various cover designs in its time.  However, two series stand out.  The first is that designed by Osbert Lancaster (1908-1986) for Penguin in the 1960s.  Lancaster, writer, illustrator, cartoonist, and designer for the stage, (largely self-taught) was a friend of Powell and the 2nd novel in the sequence, 'A Buyer's Market', is dedicated to Lancaster and his first wife Karen.  Powell described him thus: 'bristling moustache, check suits, shirt and tie in bold tints'.  Lancaster had a reputation as a dandy.  His austere pen and ink drawings give a good sense of 'British Mid-century Frugal'. A feeling of anomie pervades.

     Later editions such as this - the Fontana Books edition of 1977 - are the work of Mark Boxer (1931-1988) the magazine editor, illustrator, and cartoonist (completely self-taught).  As remarked, I think, on Wiki, Lancaster provided the locations, and Boxer the characters in the form of cartoons.  Vigorous, characterful and enviably confident.  As you can see above.

The Prelude

 

The Prelude by William Wordsworth (1770-1850)

I felt most deeply in what world I was,

What ground I trod on, and what air I breathed.

High was my room and lonely, near the roof
Of a large mansion or hotel, a lodge
That would have pleased me in more quiet times;
Nor was it wholly without pleasure then.
With unextinguished taper I kept watch,
Reading at intervals; the fear gone by
Pressed on me almost like a fear to come.
I thought of those September massacres,
Divided from me by one little month,
Saw them and touched: the rest was conjured up
From tragic fictions or true history,
Remembrances and dim admonishments.
The horse is taught his manage, and no star
Of wildest course but treads back his own steps;
For the spent hurricane the air provides
As fierce a successor; the tide retreats
But to return out of its hiding-place
In the great deep; all things have second birth;
The earthquake is not satisfied at once;
And in this way I wrought upon myself,
Until I seemed to hear a voice that cried,
To the whole city, "Sleep no more."