Inverted images by an artist born in Germany at a gallery in London

CERTAIN IMAGES IMMEDIATELY come to mind when the names of some artists are mentioned. For Vincent Van Gogh it is sunflowers; for Claude Monet it is waterlilies; for Salvador Dali it is melting clocks; and for Edvard Munch it is “The Scream”. In the case of the German artist Georg Baselitz (born as ‘Hans-Georg Kern’ in Deutschbaselitz, Saxony, Germany in1938), mentioning his name conjures up inverted images: paintings in which the images appear to be upside down. He signs them with his signature, but it is not upside down.

Recently, we viewed an exhibition of this octogenarian’s latest paintings at the White Cube Gallery in London’s Bermondsey Street. The show is on until the 16th of June 2024. If you miss it, you will not have missed much worth seeing. As you can tell, I was not over-impressed by what I saw, but it did get me thinking about why the artist often chooses to paint his subjects – human and others – upside down.

Does he choose to do this because his childhood in Germany was spent in a country that had been turned upside down by the Nazi regime, the 2nd World War, and its immediate aftermath in the early years of the German Democratic Republic? The White Cube website quotes the artist as having said:

“I’ve got my early childhood drawings of eagles, stags, deer, dogs and so on in folders,’ Baselitz remarks. ‘Every now and then I look at them, and I think was it a good time, was it a bad time?”

Or does he paint his images upside down to attract the viewer – to make his artwork ‘stand out from the crowd’? Alternatively, does he invert his images so that the viewer is forced to consider not only the subject matter, but also his painting techniques (brush strokes, colour choices, and so on)?

I do not know the answers to these questions. However, I am glad I have seen the exhibition, which did not particularly thrill me, because it did stimulate me to consider his art a little more that I had expected.

An almost hidden treasure on London’s Hampstead Heath

ANYONE TRAVELLING BY ROAD along North End Way between Hampstead’s Whitestone Pond and Golders Green will pass Inverforth House (on the west side of the road). Now used as a luxury apartment house, the place has an interesting history and an even more interesting garden, some of which is open to the public.

Here is what I wrote about this property in my book “Beneath a Wide Sky: Hampstead and its Environs” (available from Amazon):

“Inverforth Close, a small private road open to pedestrians, leads off North End Way. At the end of it, there is a delightful garden with a wooden pergola, The Hill Garden, which is open to the public. It was once part of the gardens of Inverforth House. The present house was built in 1895 in a ‘neo-Georgian’ style to the designs of the architectural practice of Grayson and Ould. Between 1896 and 1904, Ronald Fisher (1890-1962) lived there as a child. He was one of the ‘fathers’ of modern biological statistics.

Between 1904 and 1925, the house was owned by William Lever, Viscount Leverhulme (1851-1925). He was one of the first men to produce soap on an industrial scale (in 1884) and was an enlightened industrialist. He built Port Sunlight near to Birkenhead to house his workers in pleasant surroundings. The house’s library was designed by built by William and Segar Owen of Warrington, who also designed buildings at Port Sunlight. In 1955, Inverforth House became a convalescent home of the (now closed) Manor House Hospital, and that is how I remember it from my childhood. The hospital was not part of the NHS. It was privately run by trade unions. The edifice ceased being a hospital in 1999. Now, the house contains privately owned, luxury flats; it has become a ‘gated community’.

The gardens of Inverforth House were laid out from 1906 onwards by Thomas Hayton Mawson (1861-1933), garden designer, landscape architect, and town planner. According to one source (www.historic-uk.com), Lord Leverhulme wanted the pergola:

‘…to be the setting for extravagant Edwardian Garden parties, while at the same time being a place where his family and friends could spend long summer evenings enjoying the spectacular gardens.’

In 1960, the London County Council (‘LCC’) bought the Pergola and associated garden areas, which had by then become very dilapidated. In 1963, part of the gardens was opened to the public, and called the ‘Hill Garden’…”

Today, the 12th of June 2024, we re-visited the pergola. We had not been there for at least 10 years. Most of the long pergola (about 300 yards in length) was open to the public – more than in the past, it seemed to us. Although some of the timber trellising, which is supported by stone pillars, was looking rather weatherbeaten, walking along the raised paths was a delight because of the flowering bushes blooming all along it. From the pathway, one gets good views over Hampstead Heath and into the well-manicured private grounds of Inverforth House.

Many locals and people who used to be locals in Hampstead and Golders Green know about the Pergola and the Hill Garden next to it. However, when you reach it, you are sure to get the pleasurable feeling that you have discovered a secret garden, and unless you suffer from hay fever (and have not taken antihistamines), a wonderful experience awaits you.

Tasty molluscs from an island off the coast of Essex

SOME PEOPLE SAY that the Ancient Romans in Rome enjoyed consuming oysters that had been harvested along the coast of Essex. It is said that these tasty molluscs were transported live from Essex to ancient Rome. A website (www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-humber-69051462) noted:

“Oysters were highly prized by the Romans with some reports suggesting they played a key part in Julius Caesar’s decision to invade the British Isles. Many of the oysters were exported to Italy with Roman Emperors reportedly paying for them by their weight in gold.”

This quote refers to finding a Roman oyster processing site on the Humber estuary. Other places where oysters are cultivated include parts of the coast of Essex. These places are famous for the quality of their oysters. One of them is West Mersea on the island of Mersea, a few miles south of the city of Colchester. Today, this place is an important source of oysters. The gardens of houses in West Mersea are full of discarded oyster shells, both for decorative purposes and as a ground covering.

An oyster pit and the Packing Shed (in the distance)

Oysters are ideally cultivated in the brackish saline waters of estuaries. They feed by siphoning a large amount of seawater through their bodies, extracting nutrients from it. Sometimes, they collect sand and other impurities as the water passes through them.  West Mersea sits at the mouth of the Blackwater River, and oysters have been grown and harvested there since Roman times. When oysters are mature enough to be harvested, they are placed in tanks filled with clean water which passes through them as they filter the water. This ensures that by the time they are sent to market, impurities such as sand have been removed from their digestive systems. Today, this purification process is carried out in sophisticated mechanised tanks, some of which irradiate the water with ultra-violet light to kill microbes. In the past, after being sorted for size, they were placed in wood-lined tanks filled with clean water. The remains of some of these now disused oyster pits can be seen rotting along the coastline at West Mersea.

In about 1890, a shed, now known as the ‘Packing Shed’, was constructed on an islet close to West Mersea. This building was built to be used for cleaning and sorting oysters before they were sent to destinations all over the world. Soon after it was built, it was blown away in a storm. In 1897, it was replaced by a new building, which remained in use until the 1950s. After that, it was hardly used and began to rot. Despite this, it survived the great storm of 1987. It became a picturesque ruin until 1992, when it was fully restored. Owned by the Tollesbury & Mersea Native Oyster Fishery Company, it is rented to the Packing Shed Trust, which uses it for a variety of purposes (including bird watching, weddings, art classes, parties, and celebrating special occasions). You can see this long, low building from many points on the seashore of West Mersea. On the day we were in West Mersea, we saw groups of young school pupils going on an excursion to visit the Packing Shed.

Several companies dealing in oyster cultivation and sales have sheds in West Mersea. There are plenty of eateries where you can sample these highly prized delicacies. We used to enjoy consuming them in the past before one of us had an extremely unpleasant reaction after eating some oysters at a good restaurant in London’s Kensington. The reaction was so bad that hospitalization was necessary. After that, both of us have, reluctantly, decided not to eat oysters again. Regardless of that, West Mersea is a delightfully peaceful place to visit – providing it is during school term time. We were told that during school holidays, Mersea Island becomes overcrowded and far from relaxing.

A nursery for bonsai trees and the death of an automobile

ABOUT FIFTEEN YEARS ago, some friends visiting England from from Calcutta wanted us to meet their friend, Peter Chan, with whom they were staying at his home near Lingfield in Surrey. One weekend, we drove down from London to meet them. What we did not know before we reached the Chan’s home was that Peter runs one of the best – if not the very best – Bonsai nurseries in this country. He showed us around his remarkable collection of Bonsai trees, which he sells, and what we saw made a great impression on us. Winner of 21 Chelsea Flower Show gold medals, Peter named his business Herons Bonsai.

About a year later, we were invited to a golden anniversary luncheon in a pub near Lingfield. Having arrived too early, we decided to revisit Peter’s bonsai nursery and to say hello to the Chans. We parked our Saab car in the nursery’s car park, and returned to it after greeting the Chans and having a quick look at the bonsai plants. I turned the ignition key. The car made a strange noise and smoke wafted out from the engine’s bonnet. I tried again – the car had died. We called the Automobile Association (‘AA’), and after about twenty minutes, an AA rescue man arrived. He quickly diagnosed the problem. I asked him to estimate the cost of repairing it. He said it would cost at least £300.

I had just had the car serviced, and while it was at the Saab garage I asked the sales staff to tell me how much I should expect to get if I part exchanged our car with a newer vehicle. I was told that I would get no more than £400 because of our car’s age. In addition, I was informed that several serious faults would soon need rectifying by the time I came for the next annual service. These repairs would have been costly. Knowing these things, it was easy to decide that our Saab had reached the end of its life – it was not worth repairing. We left the car at the bonsai nursery, having explained to the Chans that I would arrange for it to be collected by scrap dealers within a few days. The AA man drove us to Gatwick Airport, where we hired a car, and managed to arrive at the anniversary lunch by the time that the main course was being served.  Our Saab was taken away two days later.

This June (2024), my wife’s cousins met us for lunch at a pub, which they had chosen and booked. We knew nothing about the place. They drove us from Redhill station to the Wiremill pub near Lingfield. As we neared the place, I began recognising the countryside, notably a modernistic church built in 1958 by the Mormons. We turned off the main road into Wiremill Lane, and to our great surprise we passed Peter Chan’s bonsai nursery.

After a leisurely lunch, we visited Herons Bonsai. Before we arrived, I warned our cousins about the fate of our Saab, but they were not worried about parking at Herons.  After admiring some of the wonderful plants, we met Peter Chan, who vaguely recalled our last visit and the demise of our car. He introduced us to one of his regular customers, an Anglo-Indian, who had been brought up in Calcutta. He was at the nursery, showing it to his cousin who was visiting from Canada. Peter invited them and our party (my wife, her cousin and her husband, and me) to join him for tea in the nursery’s meeting hall that overlooks the Japanese style garden that Peter has created. We drank tea, exchanged gossip, and listened to Peter telling us about some of the fascinating things he has done in his life.

We left Herons without any automobile-related mishaps. Was it pure chance that we had been booked to eat at the Wiremill pub, or did the hidden hand of fate cause my wife’s cousin to choose the pub so near to the bonsai nursery?

A teacher at school and a painting at Sotheby’s auction house

This painting on display at Sotheby’s in New Bond Street was created by Sir John Kyffin Williams (1918-2006). He was born in Wales on the island of Anglesey.

When I was a pupil at London’s Highgate School (between 1965 and 1970), Kyffin Williams taught art at the school. He was the senior art master between 1944 and 1973. I was fortunate to have attended a few of the painting sessions He supervised.

In 1968, Kyffin visited the Welsh settlement in Patagonia. After his return to England, he gave a fascinating talk about his trip to us at the school. I attended this, and still remember some if what he related.

A few years ago, we drive to Anglesey to see his work at the Oriel Mon gallery near his birthplace, Llangefni.

Seeing this painting at Sotheby’s brought back happy memories.

No longer can you travel overland from this station to Leipzig or Marseilles

THE FIRST BLACKFRIARS railway station was opened in 1886. This station has been replaced by a 21st century station that now serves trains of the Thameslink network, which connects places north of London with places south of the city – no further north than Peterborough, and no further south than Brighton. Originally, when it first began serving passengers in the 19th century, trains carried people to overseas destinations including Leipzig, Naples, St Petersburg, and Marseilles.

The ticket hall of the current Blackfriars Thameslink station contains a reminder of the days when passengers departed for places much further afield than Brighton and Peterborough. It is a section of the original station’s facade, on which a list of destinations once reachable from the station is inscribed . The list includes many places on the European mainland as well as places in southeast London and Kent, through which travellers heading towards foreign lands had to pass.

I do not recall the old Blackfriars station, but the current one is an elegant example of modern architecture. What is particularly nice is that the platforms are on a bridge spanning the Thames. While waiting for a train, passengers can enjoy splendid views up and down the river.

A deserted abbey in ruins close to the River Dee in North Wales

WE USED TO make long trips by car in France. Amongst the many sights we visited were various Cistercian abbeys, such as those at Citeaux and Clairvaux. Later, during trips to Wales, we often visited the ruins of the Cistercian Abbeys at Strata Florida and at Tintern on the River Wye. I do not know what drew us to these Cistercian places, but we went out of our way to see them. So, when we were staying near Warrington in Lancashire and I noticed that we were not far from yet another Cistercian site, we made a bee line for it.  Overlooking the River Dee, the ruins of Basingwerk Abbey are located near the town of Flint in the county of Flint.

Though not as extensive as the ruins at Tintern, there is plenty to see at Basingwerk. Dedicated to the Virgin Mary, the abbey was founded in 1132 by Ranulf de Gernon, 4th Earl of Chester. Being on the border between England and Wales:

“Basingwerk was patronised by both the Welsh and Anglo-Norman nobility. Royal benefactors included Henry II, Prince Llywelyn ab Iorwerth (d. 1240), Prince Dafydd ap Llywelyn (d. 1246) and Edward I.” (https://www.monasticwales.org/browsedb.php?func=showsite&siteID=24).

Originally founded as part of the Order of Savigny, it joined the Cistercian Order in 1147. In about 1355, it was reported that the abbey was in a devastated condition. During the early 15th century, Basingwerk tried to encourage pilgrims to visit its shrine, hoping that this would raise funds to repair the place. Between 1481 and 1522, Abbot Thomas Pennant restored the abbey and improved its fortunes. Sadly, by 1537, the institution had been suppressed by order of King Henry VIII. In 1540, the site of the former monastery was sold. After changing hands a couple of times, it became the property of the Mostyns of Talacre.

In 1923, the ruins of the abbey were taken over by the government, and now they are well-maintained by CADW – the historic environment service of the Welsh Government. Despite the appallingly bad weather prevailing when we visited the remains of the Cistercian abbey, we were able to enjoy wandering around the ruins. To recover from the inclement conditions, we took refreshments in the nearby café/restaurant in Basingwerk House.

A small but important relic on an island in Essex

THE AVAILABILITY OF water is essential for human life. Since 8400 BC, or even earlier, mankind has been digging wells to access sources of groundwater. In England today, usable wells are few and far between because water is supplied by various other means. Occasionally, one comes across wellheads of now disused wells. One of these has become a minor visitors’ attraction on the lovely small island of Mersea, which is south of Colchester on the north side of the mouth of the Blackwater River.

The well head, which in in West Mersea and has been recently restored looks like a square wooden crate. It has a commemorative bronze plate on its square covering. Known as St Peter’s Well, it was an important source of water from ancient times until the early 20th century. It may have been associated for a while with a West Mersea Priory (founded 1046, dissolved 1542) that once stood nearby.

In April 1884, Mersea Island was struck by an earthquake. A crack in the ground opened near St Peters Well, and for a short time the water in it:

“…  turned white, as if mixed with lime, and was quite warm, but the day after had resumed its pellucid qualities.” (www.merseamuseum.org.uk/mmphoto.php?pid=SS050030&hit=631&tot=642&typ=cat&syn=all)

Today, there  is little to see but the restored wooden wellhead that stands on a slope overlooking the wide sandy beach, which appears when the tide is out, The metal plate contains quotations from the Bible and the information that the well, which had served the people for over 1000 years, was one of the main sources of fresh water for the islanders, and had never run dry.

Judging from the contents of rubbish bins awaiting collection from the street entrances of houses in West Mersea, an important source of fluid intake is nowadays bottles and cans obtained from the booze shelves of off-licenses and supermarkets.