THERE ARE MANY statues depicting Mohandas K Gandhi (the Mahatma; 1869-1948) all over the world. There is one in Manchester close to the city’s cathedral. A small notice next to it notes that it was gifted by the Kamani family to honour their grandfather Bhanji Khanji Kamani (1888-1979). Inaugurated in 2019, it is a project by the Shrimad Rajchandra Mission in Dharampur (Gujarat).
Shrimad Rajchandra (1861-1901) was a Jain philosopher, scholar, and reformer. Gandhi was introduced to him in Bombay in 1891, and the two men wrote to each other when the Mahatma was a lawyer and activist in in South Africa. Gandhi wrote in his autobiography that Shrimad was his “guide and helper” and his “refuge in moments of spiritual crisis”. Well, I did not know that.
As for Bhanji Khanji Kamani, the notice next to the statue in Manchester notes that he was “… a Fellow Scholar of Gandhi.” I am unclear about the meaning of this because Bhanji was about 19 years younger than the Mahatma. I wonder whether he was actually a disciple of Gandhi, rather than a Fellow scholar.
We saw the statue representing a man who advocated peaceful protest on a day when violent protests were predicted all over England.
THERE IS AN EXHIBITION of sculptures by Lynda Benglis (born 1941) at the Turner Gallery in Margate (Kent). They are produced using a combination of traditional modelling and modern technology.
First, she makes small versions of these in clay. Then she scans them digitally. Using computer software, she magnifies the 3D (three-dimensional) scan. Next, she uses a 3D printer to create exact but greatly enlarged plastic replicas of the original clay models. These are then used to create the final metal casts – the sculptures seen at the exhibition.
A PRIVATELY OWNED road, Dungeness Road, heads from Battery Road, which is south of Lydd on Sea, to the Dungeness nuclear power stations. One of these two enormous units began producing electricity in 1965, and the other between 1983 and 1985. By 2018, both had been closed, and are not likely to be used again. Along the road leading to the power stations, there are houses, each one well-spaced from its neighbours. The terrain along which the road runs is flat, sandy, gravelly, windswept, and treeless. Scrubby little plants grow here and there, and the seacoast is nearby. The disused power stations dominate the southern horizon.
In 1987, the film director Derek Jarman (1942-1994) purchased Prospect Cottage, a wood cladding Victorian fisherman’s hut. It stands on Dungeness Road 1489 yards northeast of the power stations. From its garden, the power stations look like a huge liner on the horizon. Jarman, who was keen on garden design, created an unusual garden using bits of debris of all sorts as sculptural features. These objects are surrounded by gravel in which plants hardy enough to survive in the exposed terrain were planted. The garden he created is unusual but intriguing. It has a strange extraterrestrial feel about it, but is visually satisfying.
Jarman lived in the small cottage until his death. The walls of the cottage are painted with black tar and the window frames are yellow. One wall of the building has words from a poem by John Donne written on it in large wooden letters. After his death, Jarman’s friend Keith Collins inherited it and lived there until his death. It was put up for sale in 2018. In 2020, enough money had been raised to save it for the nation. Currently, it is being looked after by an organisation called Creative Folkestone.
When we visited Prospect Cottage and its garden on a sunny afternoon in August (2024) there were a few other visitors admiring the garden. Entry to the cottage is generally not permitted. We were told that occasionally it can be used by artists as part of residencies arranged by Creative Folkestone. As for the garden, it seemed that no one objected to visitors looking around. We did ask permission from someone using the cottage, and she told us to go ahead. Although the road leads to Dungeness lighthouse, which is open to the public and attracts many visitors, few of those on their way to it stop at Prospect Cottage. Having seen this curious place, I can recommend it as a destination if you happen to be in east Kent.
THE VICTORIAN AUTHOR Charles Dickens (1812-1870) visited Broadstairs, a seaside town in east Kent frequently. During a recent visit to the town in August 2024, we saw three buildings which are associated with the famous author.
The Royal Albion Hotel hosted Dickens several times. Nearby, there is what is now the Dickens House Museum. This was the home of Miss Mary Pearson Strong, who was the inspiration for Betsey Trotwood in “David Copperfield”.
On a hill overlooking both the popular Viking Bay Beach and other parts of Broadstairs, there is a large building with castellations. This was built in 1801 as Fort Howe. It was, and still is, a private residence. It was here (and at the Albion Hotel) that Dickens used to write while staying in Broadstairs. The author leased the house from the 1840s until 1852. Some people claim that the house was the inspiration of the title of Dickens’ novel “Bleak House”, but this is by no means certain.
At thus point, I must admit that I have not read any Dickens apart from highly abridged versions of “A Christmas Carol” and “Oliver Twist”. Having now visited Broadstairs, I feel there is a good chance that I might tackle a full novel, maybe “Bleak House” or “David Copperfield”. Which would you recommend?
At some National Trust properties, figurines with dark skin pigmentation, such as the one on the left (first picture), are labelled with an apologetic warning that the figurine depicts a person of colour in a demeaning pose. Not so in Knole House, near Sevenoaks in Kent. In the same room, also without a label, there is a figurine depicting a person with pale skin in the same demeaning pose.
ALMOST ALWAYS I ENJOY the annual temporary pavilions erected beside the Serpentine South Gallery in Kensington Gardens. This year’s offering was designed by the South Korean architect Minsuk Cho (born 1966 in Seoul). The Serpentine website (www.serpentinegalleries.org/) explained:
“Tracing the history of past Serpentine Pavilions, Minsuk Cho observed that they often emerge as a singular structure situated at the centre of the Serpentine South lawn. To explore new possibilities and previously untold spatial narratives, Cho approaches the centre as an open space. The 23rd Serpentine Pavilion envisions a unique void surrounded by a constellation of smaller, adaptable structures strategically positioned at the periphery of the lawn.”
The five structures surrounding the void (or open space) in the middle of the pavilion compound vary in shape and purpose. One serves as a library, another as a café serving area with minimum seating, another as a children’s play area, another is a kind of hallway, and the fifth is supposed to represent a tea house.
Apart from two of the small buildings (the play area and the library), I did not find the others visually satisfying. Also, I did not feel that the five structures surrounding the central space were in harmony with each other. All in all, I was unimpressed by this year’s so-called pavilion.
I realise from reading the information on the Serpentine’s website that Minsuk Cho was trying to express a set of concepts by designing the small complex of buildings that together form the pavilion. However, without knowing that, the result looks unsubstantial compared with almost all the pavilions that have preceded it over the years. The architect’s ideas have not translated well into concrete forms. Apart from this, the current pavilion, unlike its predecessors, has few places for people to sit and enjoy the space. In all the pavilions that have been constructed before this year, there has been ample place to sit and rest. And providing such a place within uniquely designed architectural spaces has, until this year, been one of the things that makes the pavilions accessible for people of all ages to enjoy – whether or not they have an interest in the architecture or its designer.
THE LIVERY COMPANIES were founded long ago by members of the same craft or trade. They were established originally to protect their businesses from rogue traders and to ensure that anyone practising a trade worked to satisfactory standards and good quality. Today, the livery companies still exist although now they are mostly involved in the life of the City of London and philanthropic activities.
The Founders Company, which was established in 1365, was made up of members who cast metal as their trade. They worked with castable metals such as brass and latten (a combination of copper and zinc). Their current headquarters are housed in a modern building just east of the east end of the church of St Bartholomew the Great (near the Barbican). One side of the building runs along the narrow St Bartholomews Passage. It was there that, at ground level, I spotted a bas-relief portrayal of a coat of arms made in white material.
A small information panel next to the crest related that this white material is Coade stone. This material, which was invented in the late 18th century, was an artificial material containing various ingredients. It solidified by firing in a furnace. This durable, weather-resistant material is easy to mould before firing, and was therefore favoured by sculptors and building designers. It went out of fashion by the 1840s.
The Coade stone crest outside Founders Hall was made in 1800, and then it got lost during the 19th century. Many years later, in the early 21st century, it was found and presented as a gift to its original owners, the Founders. It commemorates the Company’s three Masters, who served in 2013, 2014. And 2015.
Although I have visited St Bartholomew the Great many times, it was only yesterday, the 31st of July 2024, that I first walked along Bartholomew Passage – just to see where it led. Luckily, on the way I found the well-preserved Founders’ Coade stone crest.
THE CITY OF LONDON has suffered many upheavals including, to mention but a few, the great Fire of London (1666), heavy bombing during WW2, and often overzealous redevelopments after 1945. Despite these major changes, remains of mediaeval London can still be found. One of these is close to the church of St Bartholomew the Great, which escaped being damaged during WW2, and has been standing since 1123. It was founded as part of an Augustinian priory that was dissolved by Henry VIII in 1543. Close to this fascinating church, and running in a straight line from east to west is the narrow East Passage.
This alleyway is about 80 yards long and lined with the rear facades of buildings – mostly not particularly old. Yet, East Passage has been in existence since the dissolution of the priory in the 16th century (www.ianvisits.co.uk/articles/londons-alleys-east-passage-ec1-36703/). It is a thoroughfare developed on land that had belonged to the priory, and was sold to Sir Richard Rich (1496-1567), who was Lord Chancellor during the short reign of King Edward VI, successor to Henry VIII. East Passage was one of a new series of streets laid out soon after the priory was closed. As the author of the ianvisits.co.uk website pointed out, the group of small straight streets, of which East Passage is one, was one of the earliest planned developments in London (with straight rather than haphazardly arranged, curvy streets), predating the planned development of Covent Garden in the 17th century.
Today, East Passage is about half the length it used to be. Before it was known as East Passage, it was known as ‘Back Court’ or ‘Back Street’. At its west end, there is the rear of a pub called The Old Red Cow. It is one of the longest established pubs near to Smithfield meat market, although the building housing it looks as if it was built in the 19th century. Close to this hostelry, but not on East Passage, there is another pub, The Hand and Shears. Established in 1532, but housed in a more recent building, whose name reminds us that it used to be frequented by cloth merchants. A note in a website (https://darkestlondon.com/tag/old-red-cow/) mentioned that The Hand and Shears:
“… was used as the venue to settle disputes and grievances of people who visited the annual St Bartholomew’s Fair – licences were granted, weights and measures were tested, and fines imposed on fraudulent traders. For many years, the Fair was officially opened from the inn’s doorway by the Lord Mayor – but impatient clothiers would later wait at the pub the night before and declare it open on the stroke of midnight, signalling to gathering crowds that the Fair was officially open by waving a pair of shears in their hands.”
Possibly, I would not have noticed the slender East Passage had we not been sitting in a café nearby. I spotted it through the window of the Pret a Manger on Long Street that runs parallel to East Passage, and felt I had to explore it. As I walked along it, I had not idea that this small back passage had such a long history and would never have existed had Henry VIII not fallen out with the Pope in Rome.
THE VICTORIA EMBANKMENT was constructed along the River Thames in the 1860s. It was built to enclose a newly constructed sewer: the Main Low Level Sewer, which was part of the grand sewage system improvement project designed by Sir Joseph William Bazalgette (1819-1891). The wall of the embankment facing the river was constructed from large brick-shaped, carved granite stones, each weighing about 1 tonne. Several of these have had to be removed to construct a new sewage conduit – the Thames Tideway Tunnel.
58 of the granite stones have been repurposed to become a series of open-air public art installations. This series was created by Matthew Barnett Howland, Oliver Wilton, and CSK Architects. Small groups of these have been placed in seven locations: St Peter’s Hill, Carter Lane Gardens, St Paul’s Cathedral, Christchurch Greyfriars Church Garden, King Edward St, Little Britain and Smithfield Rotunda. Today, the 31st of July 2024, we came across the group placed in Little Britain, which is not far from Barbican Underground Station. What we saw were 3 of the huge locks of granite arranged in a straight line. A gentleman was using one of them as a bench while he looked at his mobile telephone. Next to them, a wooden sign explained what is going on. This was useful because if there had been no sign next to them, we might not have given them a moment’s notice.
You might well be wondering why this series of stones were placed at seven places in London. I will leave it to someone else to explain:
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