1834 Preparing to meet Sophie Calle

I have had an excellent and memorable long weekend in London with my first highly enjoyable experience of Lebanese food at La Roche, St Martin‘s Lane, followed by an unexpectedly satisfying three course prix fixe lunch with wine and coffee at the Café Rouge, Victoria station. There was my first visit to the Whitechapel Gallery to experience the work of Sophie Calle, only one of handful of large space exhibitions where I was overcome with WOW and also a close identification with the work which I need to test its reality. In contrast this was my most disappointing visit to Tate Modern where only one work was of interest and nothing provoked Wow or a search for notebook and pen. I have not been to the science museum for several decades and was much impressed with the strides made to cater for the most young of children and their parents. I was fortunate to attend the first day showing of a film about the life of Seraphine de Senlis and an evening of Baroque music by candlelight with the Festive orchestra of London at St Martin’s in the Fields, lazed an afternoon at the Royal Festival Hall, eat spiced chicken wings in a quiet corner of St Pancras station and a prepared salad close to the East London Mosque having visited the area where I worked for British Olivetti 50 years ago close to Petticoat, Brick Lane and Toynbee Hall. There were five conversations with strangers and my only regret was not to have brought my camera to have taken a shot of four beautifully dressed Asian young women talking excitedly about the social function they were about to attend across the road from the dodgy looking Nags Head gentleman’s club.

The journey to London, which I now make only three or four times a year, compared with a dozen or more during the 1990’s and around 50 during the twenty years as a local authority chief officer, was the best I can remember. The sun was bright for the walk from my home to South Shields station for the Metro train to Newcastle and I left early to call in at the Wetherspoons for an English Breakfast and coffee noting the number of early morning beer drinkers, many of them regulars, mixed with those taking breakfast, morning coffee or waiting to enjoy an early lunch. There was time at the station to visits Smiths for a copy of Time Out as a last minute development meant that I might be spending the weekend on my own and had made no plans about where I might go and what I could experience. I had also selected the train time as the best price for the midday early afternoon and was pleasantly surprised to find it was scheduled to be an exceptionally fast journey with only a stop at York before Kings Cross.

I had chosen a table seat although I had decided not to have my laptop to hand but to finish reading Kate Hudson’s book on the History of the CND movement. As I ashamedly admit from time to time I am still of big body but the young woman occupying the window seat was even larger and I therefore resisted the opportunity to sit opposite another young and attractive girl to go further along the carriage to an unoccupied seat without a seat ticket and where the window seat was also free as the individual booking the place did not arrive. A lady of my generation, but younger by a few years, was faced with having her case on her lap because there was no space left at either end luggage compartment and a notice asked for the luggage not to block the aisles. The suggestion it was placed below the unoccupied seat, was readily agreed and as a consequence enjoyed a conversation all the way to York. Subjects included the take over of the line by the British Government from National Express, the opportunities of the national bus pass for long journeys, the flooding in Cumbria with the loss of life of the policeman leaving a widow and four children, the death of so many young men in Afghanistan, wartime memories and flooded fields alongside the track on the approach to York, a city which is under constant threat of flooding almost every year. After she departed at York I read and promised to read through the book again soon with notebook to hand for a writing.

I did not have to wait long at St Pancras for the Brighton Thameslink train to East Croydon having purchased a single journey ticket at the automatic machine. There was time to notice that the area under the station width departure and arrivals board at this end of the station was now converted into a sales area for breads, cheeses, continental meats, olives and wine with large kitchen type tables to sample the food and drink as well as take away. I did not need to buy anything for the evening as I had eaten a French baguette with salami on the train down and decided to enjoy a soup, some pot noodles, grapes and dates for supper. This left a large prepared salad of lettuce, tomatoes, a sweet yellow pepper, cucumber, olives and a mixed bean salad for the following day. I was in my room on the 7th floor of central Croydon Travel Lodge by six pm

I decided to watch the first four episodes of the 4th and last series of the 4400 on the DVD I had brought with me, rather than the TV, missing Question Time but catching part of the weekly cocoa time political banter between Diane Abbott, Michael Portillo and what’s his name! For a day spent in packing, unpacking and travelling it has been an enjoyable one. On the train I had studied Time Out and marked possibilities. On page 46 there begins the notices for Major spaces and Exhibitions and on page 48 the was the announcement that Seraphine, winner of seven French Academy awards including best picture, was opening at the two Curzon’s cinemas, two Odeon’s, the Barbican and the Coronet Independent on the following afternoon. I must confess that it was only when her work was displayed in the picture that I associated the name with the work, which had never appealed, although by the time the film ended several of large canvases did, but fairly low in the pecking order of works I would like to have close by had I the funds and inclination to do so.

On page 49 under major space Critics’ choice. The fifth and final was Sophie Calle. I will write separately about the Sophie Caller experience. I immediately turned to page 50 where the Whitechapel Gallery was listed alphabetically in the major space section. There was a half page advert for the Seraphine film in film section where I looked to see if the children’s film UP was still showing somewhere in 3D.

Under literary events I noted that Professor Robert Barsky from the USA was talking at Peace News about the work of Noam Chomsky at 5pm on Friday at Houseman’s almost 50 years to the day I was offered a temporary job there over for a month until Christmas. Martin Bell was at Wanstead Library that night and Stephen Poliakoff at Foyle’s also on Thursday at 6.30. Jules Holland was at the Royal Albert Hall and James Morrison at the Wembley Arena. There was a Mozart Requiem on the Friday evening, the Baroque on the Saturday. There was an England National Opera Production of Turandot on Thursday evening with the Messiah on Friday evening and Sunday afternoon. Separately before departure I had checked out events, paid and free at the South Bank, including at the National Theatre where Richard Griffiths and Frances Le Tour were starring with Adrian Scarborough and Alex Jennings in the Habit of Art, a play about Benjamin Britain meeting with WH Auden. There were other possibilities all depending on whether I was to be on my own or not. I also wanted to visit the British Music experience since World War 2 at the Millennium Dome where the ATP tennis tourney was taking place with semi finals days on tournament Friday and Saturday and where interest would depend on the progress of Any Murray. Before going to bed I knew I would be on my own until the following evening and decided on Sophie Calle and Seraphine. I then found it difficult to sleep.

I had been up at 5.am in order to try and get cheap Travel Lodge accommodation for the cricket next April and May and had been amazingly successful getting 12 nights in all for £102. This included five nights at Nottingham and three in Leeds and then four in London after discovering that there was a relay of La Boheme from Covent Garden. Having booked the accommodation I then found there was no relay at the Odeon Covent Garden which on further thought was logical in that why would people pay several hundred pounds to watch the opera in the Theatre if for under £10 they could see the same show at the cinema a few yards away. I was to learn the following day that it was not being shown at the Curzon’s although Carmen from La Scalla and It Travatore from Barcelona were. Then I had a moment of good fortune with was to herald the rest of the weekend. There was a relay showing at the Odeon Wimbledon. I have been to the Odeon once when staying at the former home of my birth and care mothers. I am staying where I am staying now in central Croydon and a short distance away outside East Croydon Station there are trams to Wimbledon. I booked a ticket and according to the seating plan was the first person to do so.

I had gone to bed around eleven pm on the Wednesday night, between two and three hours earlier than usual. I had not managed to sleep or so it seemed the following morning. I had risen for an hour between 2 and 3am for a milk drink but this did not seem to work. I had tried to count chicken. I have no recollection of any sleep or waking dreams. On Thursday evening I was too excited about the following day to sleep. Usually what happens is an anticlimax. This occasion it will remain not just a day remembered but perhaps the eight day in a decade which had significantly changed the rest of my self aware experience, and in this instance for the better.

1836 From Seraphine to Sophie Calle

In the history of human kind, let alone the universe, it is a very short road from the village of Arsy and the town of Senlis on the Oise in northern France where Seraphine Louis was born in 1864, to the birth place of Sophie Calle in 1953, a couple of years before I left school and had visited the local reference library to read the official War Crimes reports on the concentration camps at Bergen-Belsen and Auschwitz. Interestingly for someone who is precise and expansive I can find no published record of where Calle she was born.

(On a visit to the Science Museum a couple of days later I was also struck in the area on energy with the information that the sun will lose its power to sustain life on earth in about five billion years which is nearly as long as it appears to have already been in existence).

Seraphine Louis was the daughter of a manual working family who was sent to the local convent to undertake laundry work at the age of 17 after being a shepherdess and which is likely to account for her need to be outdoors and of trees which she loved to touch and talk to. From her work at the Convent of the Sisters of Providence in Clermont she developed the kind of fundamental Catholicism and adoration for the Virgin Mary which so dominated the life of my mother, to the extent that despite the totality of my mother’s senility and disabilities when she approached her death aged 100.75, her catholic faith remained evident to me as it did to her priest.

When Seraphine was 37 she commenced work for middle class families in the city of Senlis although according to the Film of her life which opened in the UK on the Friday afternoon of the day I also visited Sophie Calle at the Whitechapel. It was a further decade before Seraphine undertook cleaning for the garden flat tenant of one of these families, and one tenant by amazing good fortune was the Parisian art gallery dealer owner and collector Wilhelm Uhde, a German born pacifist Jewish homosexual born in what is now Poland, facts which were to have a great impact on the future of Seraphine

It is not known from the film when and why she commenced to paint her distinctive individual style of paintings which all have a tree like symmetry of floral displays in the most vivid and at times lurid of colours and which the films indicates she produced herself from pots of basic white using animal blood from the butchers for her red and algae from the river bed although these are guesses because she never revealed how she did it.

In the film one of her employers learns that Seraphine painted and asked to see a canvass which she then ridiculed because of its primitivism and abstraction. However the employer kept the work which was seen after the woman discovered that the tenant was the art expert and arranged a dinner party at which the local cultural worthies displayed their ignorance and contempt for the contemporary art of the day. The film suggests that it was only at this point did Wilhelm discover that his cleaner was the painter. According the Wikipedia he then became aware she had accumulated a body of work although in the film she only showed him a few of her small works painted on board and he urged her to work hard at improving her technique as well as being impressed by what she had created to-date. He bought her work and provide the support which commenced to lift her horizons as a mature single woman who had used all her earnings to buy materials to paint which she did at night by candlelight. The film also suggests that she was generally regarded as being “soft in the head” by her employers and the community in which she lived because she was on her own, appeared to have not family or friends apart from occasional visits to see the nuns and her devotions at the local church and spent hours in the countryside in all weathers, touching and talking to trees. The film states that she painted having been called by God to do so. She possessed the compulsion to do something regardless of whether she obtained recognition and wealth and did so at the expense of everything else other than working to buy materials. If her enthusiasm had been for alcohol, drugs or what have she would be said to have become addicted in a negative way and

Unfortunately just when she had found someone who believed in her work, the first World War occurred and Wilhelm had to flee from Senlis where understandably he was no longer welcome as the German army advanced, and where he would have been shot by the Germans if they had found him continuing to live there. The film suggests that Seraphine retrieved her work from the flat as well as rescuing his diary. He promised to return to see her but it was not until 1927 when Wilhelm returned to France and was living at Chantilly that he went back to find her. It is not clear to me if he could have returned to France before he did given his views and interests.

In the film it is stated that he assumed she had died until seeing a newspaper note of an exhibition of local artists and decided to see if any of her works were being shown and only then realised she and her painting had not only survived but progressed.

Wilhelm trained as lawyer and studied art history in Italy and was an early collector of the works of Picasso who painted his portrait in 1909. It was his patronage that made Henri Rousseau and in 1928 he showed the work of Seraphine in Paris along with that of Rousseau, Boucant and Camille Bombois who together became known as the Sacred Heart painters.

It was the juxtaposition of Seraphine the naive Catholic primitive and me, Colin the naive, former Catholic, primitive contemporary creative and Sophie Calle the now worldly exhibitionist and voyeur which has and such a profound effect as did the interaction between the work of many of those exhibiting in the Saatchi 100 and the Tate Modern in the Spring of 2003 when I knew not just what I wanted to do but how to do it.

The impact of the patronage on life of Seraphine was also profound in two contrasting ways. She commenced to paint large work on canvass two metres high and with access to the whole range of prepared paints was able to progress her work with paintings which overwhelm the senses and which will no doubt be shown once more in London following the release of the film there, a film which has already won seven awards at the French Academy including best picture and can be expected to do well as the foreign language Oscar film next year as well as the Baftas.

In the film Seraphine also moved into a bigger flat which she filled with pots and pans and silverware and then bought an expensive hand made formal white wedding dress which the film does not attempt to explain leaving the audience to decide if this was for wearing at her exhibition of work in Paris, or a symbolic dedication to the Virgin Mary and God, (non Catholics may not be aware that Nuns dress in bridal white when they enter an order following on from their white dresses at the first Holy Communion)

It is at this point that the role of Wilhelm becomes questionable at best and in my view disgraceful. When her neighbours become concerned about her going about the town in her wedding dress and distributing her silverware, they lock her up as mad and there was no one immediately on hand to speak for her. I was reminded that humanity throughout the ages, especially the established and ruling religions, have always persecuted those regarded as different and tried to silence, often killing those who challenge the existing order and way of doing things

In the film her psychosis progress to the extent she fails to recognise Wilhelm who funds the provision of a private room with access to the open air and countryside. In fairness to him he also was badly affected by the Wall Street Crash and could not keep up with her extravagance including the desire to buy a house like his and a car. However what is not clear if any effort was made to provide her with the material to paint and why did he tell everyone that she had died in 1934 when in fact she lived on until 1942. It is appreciated that as the control and suppression of the Jews became known, even if knowledge of their extermination was more restricted to officialdom and to the military throughout Europe, Wilhelm had to go into hiding in Southern France dying in 1947 back in Paris. Why on return and discovering that she been buried in a common grave did he not provide a new one for example? He had continued to show her work when in the asylum in an exhibition in 1932 and after stating she had died with exhibitions in Paris 37-38, followed by Zurich and New York, also in 1942 and in 1945 after she had died in a show of only her work. I was left feeling that that as her talent for painting grew she was abandoned by all those who could have helped her. I do take into account the barbarism of the care of the mentally ill which has stained medical practical for generations.

I rounded off my day by Eating spicy chicken wings in a quiet corner of St Pancras station after buying them from M and S, and as I was leaving noted two young men tucking into one of their large trifle bowls with similar enthusiasm to my devouring of the chicken. I had intended to call in at an attractive Christmas decorated Inn discovered on the way to the Brunswick centre but on exiting found it heaving. An Irish chain pub nearby was also packed out by early Friday evening revellers. I had not been to the Curzon Renoir at the Brunswick centre before and which appears to be an excellent venue for quality International films. They have a collection of DVD’s of previous successes which can also be obtained through their catalogue. I enjoyed a coffee before the performance but had to complain that the theatre had been placed in total darkness,

Saturday did not begin well as I quickly discovered that the Cross Thames line between London Bridge and St Pancras was down with the Circle and District Line and most of the Jubilee, Northern Kline Trains were not stopping at Kings Cross as individual stations such as Warren street were closed. There was chaos. The first port of call was St Martin’s in the Fields, the most famous non Cathedral church in the UK because of its location to one side of Trafalgar Square. It is technically the parish church of the Royal Family. It is also known for its open door policy towards the homeless following the work of Rev Dick Shepherd who pioneered charitable work in the first part of the last century Between 2006 and 2008 £36 million was spent on cleaning the building and creating new public facilities and parish and social care facilities which included a row of buildings to the north of the church. The large Crypt is now a restaurant cafe where jazz concerts are held and the church holds several concerts a week during lunchtimes and at night using candle light. It is also the London Brass rubbing centre. My interest was to enquire if tickets were available for the evening concert of Baroque music and they were, before walking across the bridge and along the South Bank of the Thames to Tate Modern.

This was my first visit this year. And as with my visit to the Saatchi in the summer for the USA show, it was a disappointment with nothing creating a new sense of wow. Most of the film space had warnings about nudity which appears to have become an issue although it is not surprising as the Tate appears to be a place for Tourists to visit and for curious parents to take their children along with them. I was struck by the difference between the two sets of visitors to the Tate Modern and the Whitechapel.

There was one work in which I did engage, by Robert Therrien from Los Angeles in which he had crammed into a small space, said to be the space he had used in his studio, some 888 objects all in red many practical, radio telephone, grill and that many of the objects had a significance in relation to his own past or that of his friends. It was this aspect which attracted my interest because too often the creative is seeking to cause an effect, to attract attention and the work has little to do, if anything with the life led or personal past experience. The redness was also commanding. I am not dismissing the rest of the displays which included several appreciated on past visits, but there was little I would want to live with or had direct significance to my own past experience or current work.

I enjoyed a sandwich and tea overlooking St Paul’s but came over tired and spent the rest of the afternoon lounging in a comfy chair at the Royal Festival Hall until it was time to brave the heavy rain in search of somewhere to eat. The crypt of St Martins was an obvious option but there was only limited choice of mass produced food kept warm. An exploration further along St Martin’s Lane led to La Roche a Lebanese Moroccan restaurant where a two course meal with wine will set you back £25 a head. However it was well worth it as I enjoyed some beautifully tender lamb with petite vegetables in a spiced sauce cooked in a colourful topped ceramic earthenware pot accompanied with rice and followed a delicious apple strudel. The wine was an unspecified house red.

St Martins is not an ideal place for music in that only those at the aisle or in the front rows can see the musicians and the seats are church pews although there was plenty of room for a bag underneath and for coats to be folded on the wide ledge used for hymnals. Yet it seemed ideal for the programme of Baroque music. Some of the work was familiar notably the Air on a G String of Bach and 4th Brandenburg Concerto when I have a double Long Play of the series and there was also Spring from the Vivaldi Four Seasons. I did not know the Telemann Recorder Concerto performed Martin Feinstein or the Pachelbel Canon and Fugue, Vivaldi’s Concerto for four Violins or his Spranino Concerto, but for me the I enjoyed most the Bach Double Violin Concerto with soloists Catherine Manson and Marianna Szcucs.

It is decades since visiting the Science Museum which since the films about Dinosaurs has been overshadowed by the adjacent Natural History Museum. I had been to the Victoria and Albert across the street earlier in the year and had been tempted to go again. Many of the displays are long standing especially the history of Flight and of Maritime developments. I am likely to have viewed the flying bomb rocket before but it still brought back the fear of childhood. The history of medicine has never appealed but 100 years of psychology usually would have but not at that moment. There was tremendous public interest in everything to do with space and the development of energy sources. I was delighted to see an Olivetti Lettera 22 typewriter which I tried to sell in the late 1950’s. I cannot remember what happened to the one which I bought for myself as later I acquired a black Silverite in a black case. There was also one of the early adding machines with the fading paper print roll. What interested me most was the early nature of many of fields of research and study which then changed all our lives. I noted that when men played around with electricity servants and children were treated with small shocks because it was though this would help to keep them in their place.

There has been thought given to attracting and keeping the interest of young people to science and everything is geared to provide young people with interest and well as facilities. There is a special large area for parties and refectory type tables on the ground floor cafe restaurant as well as those for two or four, and the food looked well prepared and appetizing. There was also a picnic area and one large area given over to hands on experiments and tests where children were having a great time. At the area of flight there was a conducted tour aimed at young children who were engaged throughout in various ways.

The closures of the Tube meant that everyone appeared to be queuing for the only direct bus route at Victoria, the C1. While people did get out at the V and A marked stop and then at the South Kensington Station where there is a tunnel to the Natural History and Science Museums and which used by those going or coming from the Royal Albert Hall at the top of the Road. As the bus goes to Sloane Square and Harrods at Knightsbridge it was full of shoppers as well as some going on to Earls Court Olympia where there are a number of halls as well as the conference centre, and where throughout the year there are trade and consumer shows, sporting events from the Horse of the Year to chess championships and music such as the Annual Brit Awards. I would be taken as a school child with the aunties to see the Ideal Home Exhibition each year where I enjoyed going through the show houses filled with the latest appliances and gadgets, watching the free displays of things to make life easier and the free samples.

It became time for a Sunday lunch and having just missed the C1 back as more rain came down disregarded by the dozens of skaters in the open air ice rink close to the station, I opted to take a bus to Marble Arch at the edge of Hyde Park where there was both another Ice rink, one of six in and around London and a monster large wheel, cross over the space where there are no memorials to the Australians who died in the World Wars and then take the bus to Victoria from there down the back of Buckingham Palace and passed the former officers of the National Coal Board to Victoria Station where there were was a pub restaurant one end of the food court. It was here that on the spur I crossed over to the far side and discovered that the Cafe Rouge are having an excellent two or three course reasonable priced meal which despite small portions is nevertheless excellent value given the quality of the food and the pleasant ambience where there is no pressure to serve everyone as fast as possible to attract further customers. I had a terrine de poulet with four pieces of baguette, a crepe filled with vegetables and a green salad rather than French fries, followed by a mousse aux chocolat and accompanied with a large glass of Merlot followed by black coffee £15. The new Cafe Rouge at Gateshead has the same menu for servings from 12 until 5 and there are vouchers for 2 main menu dishes for £12.50 in the evenings and I received a 50% off mail meal voucher the former expires in December while the latter is for the New Year. The meal made up for the dreadful weather and it also became cold to freezing.

However on return I discovered how the chain is able to provide quality food at low prices. Until October it was paying staff below the national minimum wage and using the tips to make the difference. Now it is required to pay the way and for tips to be distributed. Staff are asked to put the tips on the bill and then a 10% deduction is made by the management for administrative costs. This will affect my going again but I will test out the one at the Metro centre especially if it starts to show the relays of opera and other live performances when it opens in a few days time.