‘Kensho‘ is a Zen Buddhist term meaning ‘seeing one’s essence’. It is the name used by the London art gallery Tristan Hoare (in Fitzroy Square) for an exhibition being held until 31 October 2026.
The exhibition features ceramics by Taizo Kuroda (1946-2021) and works in ink by Sousai Inada (born 1949). Both are Japanese.
The exhibition is small but very satisfying and the gallery provides a wonderful setting for the artwork.
The ceiling of the nave of St Cyprian’s church in London’s Clarence Gate is almost 50 feet above the floor. Three swathes of indigo dyed cotton are suspended from it, forming three, parallel, giant, parabolic loops. Each piece of cloth is 88.6 feet in length and together the three strips are 8.4 feet wide, each one separated from the other by a narrow gap.
St Cyprian’s is a gothic revival church built between 1901 and 1903. It was designed by Ninian Comper (1864–1960). It is a perfect example of Perpendicular Gothic architecture, and has a beautiful, intricately constructed, gilded rood screen.
The indigo dyed parabolic swathes of cloth are made with ‘gedog’, a cotton cloth made in Indonesia with cotton grown there and spun by women in East Java. Onto these loops, the Mongolian multidisciplinary artist and silversmith Nomin Zezegmaa (born in Berlin in 1992) has created circular white coloured batik patterns, which relate to, as a handout explained: “… the cosmology of the Javanese world and Mongolian shamanism.” Additionally, the swathes of cloth contain networks of embroidery, which is almost the same deep blue colour as the loops.
The artist commissioned other artworks that can be seen on both sides of the impressive cloth parabolas. These include mask-like copper sculptures created by a craftsman called Erdenebileg Byambatsogt, who also made 108 tiny bells arranged on thin threads that are, like the masks and the loops, suspended from the ceiling. On the floor of the church, there were several cloth mattresses filled with Mongolian wool.
I have described what can be seen of Zezegmaa’s artistic installation, The church is filled with the recorded sounds of Mongolian musicians and singers. Although it was difficult to hear them on the opening night of the exhibition because of visitors chatting, the artist’s idea was to create a Mongolian soundscape, In her introductory speech, she explained that in Mongolia, songs like those being heard in the church are used traditionally to communicate messages over long distances. However, as she pointed out, these songs are usually sung and heard in the wide, open spaces of Mongolia, but she found it interesting to hear them in the enclosed space of a church, whose acoustics are completely different to those of the great Mongolian outdoors. I hope to return to the church to hear the sounds on a day when there will be fewer visitors than on the opening evening.
Although the parabolic, cotton swathes are themselves intrinsically interesting from both visual and intellectual points of view, it is their setting in the beautiful space of St Cyprian’s church that transforms them from being merely attractive to becoming spectacular. Just as the church enhances the artwork, the artwork, in particular the indigo parabolas add to the viewer’s appreciation of Ninian Comper’s superb edifice.
The show “You Who Sing Into Existence”, which is sponsored by the Bagri Foundation, continues until 24 October 2026.
Apart from seeing work by a Mongolian artist, visiting her show brought home to me the fact that in addition to the inherent beauty of an artwork, one’s experience and appreciation of it can be influenced by its surroundings – the environment it which it is viewed.
Before relating this true story, the reader needs to know what I mean by a ‘minicab’. Long before Uber and similar companies began operating in London, minicabs came into existence. Despite their name, these cars are not usually small. They are, in effect, taxis that can be hired in advance by telephone, or, now, via the Internet, but not hailed on the street. Unlike regular taxis, whose fares are determined by a meter, minicab fares are usually agreed before the ride. Now for my story …
One evening some years ago, we wanted to travel from our home in Kensington to an address in northwest London. We hired a minicab from an office that used to exist near our home, but unusually we did not check the price before the journey.
The car had a radio/cassette player. I noticed that the music playing sounded as if it was popular music from Eastern Europe. I asked the driver about what was playing. He told me that it was music from Russia. I told him that I liked it.
After a few minutes, I asked him where he was from originally. He answered “Afghanistan”, but he said that he had lived in Russia for a few years before coming to London. He mentioned that he drove his minicab most evenings, and in the day time he ran his own shoe shop.
After about half an hour, we arrived at our destination, and parked outside their home. I said to the driver:
“How much do we owe you?”
“Nothing,” he replied. “You are my friend.”
“But, we must pay for the ride,” I said.
“No, nothing, my friend.”
Both my wife and I wondered what to do. We knew that the fare was usually £10. After about a minute, I had an idea. I turned to the drive, next to whom I was sitting, and, holding a £10 note, I said:
“Take this for your family. Buy your children a treat.”
He accepted the cash, and we bid him farewell.
After dinner, we rang the same minicab company, and ordered a cab to take us home. Once again, no fare was quoted. The driver of the cab who came to fetch us was also from Afghanistan. He was not as chatty as the first driver. When we reached our home, I asked him:
“What do we owe you?”
He answered:
“The same as you paid earlier.”
Now, as far as I am aware, he had no idea what we had paid earlier, but he was happy with the £10 I gave him.
These minicab trips occurred soon after I had finished reading an excellent book about Afghanistan, “An Unexpected Light” by Jason Elliot (published in 2007). In it, he described making purchases in rural Afghanistan. He wrote that prices are not displayed, and the purchaser must make an offer. If the offer is too low or to high, the customer gets laughed or otherwise subtly criticised. Remembering this, I felt that what both of our Afghan drivers were doing about the fare is what they would have done back in their country of origin, Afghanistan.
I have often walked past number 27 Berkeley Square in London’s Mayfair. I am usually on my way to or from the Gagosian Gallery just north of the square. Today, on my way to view some paintings by René Magritte on display at the Gagosian until 12 December 2026, I spotted something I had not noticed before. It was a commemorative plaque attached to number 27, which was constructed between 1821 and 1823.
The plaque commemorates the fact that number 27 Berkeley Square was once used as a hospital. A website that details former hospitals (https://ezitis.myzen.co.uk/27berkeleysq.html) provided plenty of information about this building that served as a hospital between 1916 and 1918.
On 1 March 1916, Mrs FW Salisbury-Jones opened an auxiliary hospital for convalescent officers in her home at 27 Berkeley Square. It was connected with Queen Alexandra’s Military Hospital at Millbank and had 18 beds.
The website related:
“Mrs Salisbury-Jones was the Commandant and the nursing staff consisted of 2 trained nurses, and 12 full-time and 9 part-time members of a Voluntary Aid Detachment. The War Office later requested that accommodation be increased; the Hospital then had 22 beds.”
Mrs Salisbury-Jones’s neighbour, Mrs Asher, who lived at number 30:
“… allowed the two nurses to lodge in her house for the duration of the war, and even lent her butler to work as an orderly at the Hospital.”
The hospital closed in May 1919. By then, it had admitted 496 patients, of whom only one died.
The commemorative plaque reproduces the words on a certificate of gratitude issued by the War Office and is signed by Winston S Churchill.
Currently, the former hospital is privately owned and contains offices. If as the song goes, a nightingale sung in Berkeley Square, I wonder how many of the patients in the short-lived hospital heard it.
The Internet, and in particular social media, is both a boon and a curse. One of the good things about using social media is that occasionally one gets the chance to reconnect to people with whom you have been out of touch for a long time. Here is an example of this that I experienced a few years ago.
George, which is not his real name, was one of my fellow pupils at the primary school I attended in the second half of the 1950s. In those days, he had red hair, which to my then young eyes was a curiosity. More than 20 years later I was visiting a friend who was studying at the University of Cambridge. As we walked past the University Library, I spotted George. It turned out that he was at the same college as the friend whom I was visiting. We stopped and exchanged a few words.
About forty years later, I connected with George on the LinkedIn social media website. Soon after this, he sent me a message, suggesting we meet up. We arranged a date, and agreed to meet at a restaurant near one of London’s railway termini. The location was chosen because he lived out of London and used the train to visit the city.
I arrived at the restaurant before him, and he turned up a few minutes later. Although he had aged and his hair was now grey instead of red, I recognised him. We ordered a meal and chatted pleasantly while we ate. He explained that he preferred meeting at a restaurant rather than at home when he had not met the other person before, or, at least as in our case, not for a long time.
At the end of the meal after we had settled the bill, he admitted to me:
“Well, you are not the person I was expecting to meet.”
I was not sure how to react to that, as he was exactly the person I was expecting to meet. Additionally, although we had a pleasant enough time together, I did not feel any urge to meet him again.
SAYING GOODBYE IS not always easy.
Soon, the Beers London art gallery in Little Britain (near London’s Smithfield Market) will be closing its doors for the last time. Its final exhibition, works by several artists, will end on 29 August 2026.
Over the years, we have been visiting Beers, and always made to feel welcome by Kurt, its owner and his assistant, Rebecca. He has a very good eye, and has been exhibiting works by promising, often not too well-known, artists. We have never been disappointed by what we have seen at his gallery.
A few days ago, we were invited to the private view of his final show, which we attended. Kurt welcomed us warmly, and explained that the art market in London is declining rapidly – there is little money around for buying art at present.
After viewing the show, we said goodbye to Kurt, and wished him well for the future.
As we walked away from the gallery, I had a lump in my throat. I had not imagined that the closing of an art gallery would have seemed so sad and affect me so much.
TRAGICALLY, my friend the art historian and author, Michael, died twelve years ago. I had known him since 1964, when the film “Goldfinger” was released in the UK. By a strange coincidence he was born on the same day in October as my mother, and his mother was born on the same day in May as I was. He studied art history at London’s Courtauld Institute, where he also completed his doctorate. His doctoral supervisor was the Director of the Courtauld, the art historian and Keeper of the Queen’s Pictures, Sir Anthony Blunt (1907-1983), who was eventually unmasked as a Soviet Russian agent. When Michael was studying at the Courtauld, it was housed in Home House on London’s Portman Square. I never managed to visit Michael there, but since his demise, I have been there three times.
Originally, Home House was built for Elizabeth, Countess of Home (c1703-1784), a Jamaican born heiress. The edifice, which was completed during her lifetime, was designed by the famous architect Robert Adam (1728-1782). He is famed for having designed not only buildings, but also their interior décor and furniture as well as many small details (e.g., door handles). After a series of owners, Home House was leased in 1926 by the industrialist and art collector Samuel Courtauld (1876-1947) to house his then growing art collection. In 1931, following his wife’s death, he gave Home House to the then young Courtauld Institute of Art, which he helped to found.
The Institute remained in Home House until it shifted to its current home, Somerset House, in 1989. Home House stayed unoccupied until 1998, when it was extensively and beautifully restored and became a private members’ social club, called, unsurprisingly, Home House.
Of all the Adam designed structures I have visited, and these include Kenwood House, Osterley Park, Kedleston Hall, Pountney Bridge, The Adelphi Buildings, and Lutin Hoo, the restored Home House has the best set of Adam designed interiors I have seen. Today, unless you are a member of the club or a member’s guest, it is not otherwise possible to enter this gorgeous mansion; And it was an honour that a friend of ours, a member of the club, has invited us there on several occasions.
After our most recent visit to Home House, I could not help wonderin whether its present reincarnation would have met with my friend Michael’s approval. I have a sneaking feeling that he would have enjoyed what it has become.
LONDON IS NOT one the world’s cheapest places for eating out. It is not difficult to spend a great deal of money on a meal that is far from satisfactory, and many visitors to London find that this is the case. I am a Londoner. I want to share a few places with you that offer good food at prices that are very reasonable by London standards. Some of them serve alcohol, which invariably will hike up the final cost of a meal. All of them have been serving customers for many years, but given the economic situation in the UK, one can never be sure for how much longer they will remain in business. Having warned you about this, here is my list, which was up to date when I wrote this in August 2026.
Beigel Bake (159 Brick Lane, London E1 6SB). Open 24 hours a day, this is no ordinary bakery. It does sell delicious breads and pastries, but this is not what makes it special. There is usually a long queue of customers waiting to order generously filled beigels. The fillings include smoked salmon, chopped herring, and freshly made salt beef. The salt beef is some of the best I have ever eaten, and when served with pickled gherkins and strong English mustard, as it is at Beigel Bake, it is superb. PS: near Beigel Bake, there is another place, Beigel Shop, which I cannot recommend.
Lisboa Patisserie (57 Golborne Road, London W10 5NR). With a mural of Azulejo tiling, this Portuguese establishment serves good coffee at below average prices. It also has a wide range of sweet pastries, as well as the famous ‘pastel de nata’. There are many savoury snacks available including a range of croquettes (meat, prawn, salted cod) and sandwiches (some of the fillings include Portuguese smoked ham, pork escalopes, and chicken escalopes). Everything is reasonably priced in this tiny Portuguese enclave. And facing it across the road, is the Lisboa Delicatessen, where a wonderful range of foods from Portugal can be purchased.
Falafel King (95 Golborne Road, London W10 5NL). Not far from Lisboa Patisserie, this outlet serves delicious wraps containing freshly made falafels.
Cafe Maja (238-246 King Street, London W6 0RF). Located at the western end of POSK, the Polish cultural centre in Hammersmith, this restaurant is one of my favourites. It serves superbly prepared Polish dishes at very acceptable prices. Whether you want a simple meal of beautiful borscht, or a hearty meal including meat, vegetables, and salads, you will not be disappointed. Polish food is often thought to be heavy, but what is served at this place is delicious, filling, but made with a delicate touch. And if you want desserts, there is always a selection of tempting Polish cakes and pastries. This place is well worth a detour.
Sagar (37 Panton Street, Leicester Square, London SW1Y 4EA). This vegetarian restaurant serves very acceptable, reasonably priced South Indian fare in a pleasant, modern dining room. You can order chaats, dosas, idlis, vadas, rasam, thalis, dal, and more. Although much more costly than in India, these authentic tasting dishes are not highly priced by London standards, And as a bonus, this place is in the heart of the West End, near Leicester Square.
Mani’s (12 Perrin’s Ct, London NW3 1QS). This very popular eatery (avoid on weekends as it gets too busy) in Hampstead village caters for a wide range of tastes, and does it well. You can have everything from cooked breakfasts, sandwiches, wraps, and salads to wholesome lunch dishes. I particularly enjoy their Caesar Salad topped with grilled chicken. The menu is too vast for me to describe everything that is available at what I consider to be the best place to eat in Hampstead.
Raavi Kebab (125 Drummond Street, London NW1 2HL). This unpretentious, hardly decorated restaurant is a place for carnivores! Raavi’s serves North Indian dishes. Their biryani is great as is the fried fish (lightly dusted with turmeric and chilli powder before being cooked). At the front of the restaurant there is a charcoal grill. The kebabs (chicken, lamb, and seekh) prepared on the grill are excellent. Other more complicated dishes are available, but those I have mentioned are my favourites.
Caphe House (114 Bermondsey Street, London SE1 3TX). This charming place in trendy Bermondsey Street serves Vietnamese dishes, all of which are tasty, refreshing, and enjoyable. Customers can customise their pho, rice, and noodle dishes, making them vegetarian or otherwise. Banh mi baguettes. Summer rolls, and other Vietnamese food items are also available. To round off the meal, try a Vietnamese coffee. And if you are not worried about calories, go for the egg coffee, which tastes a bit like Italian zabaglione.
Rye Lane Market (48 Rye Lane, London SE15 5BY). This amazing place in South London contains a food court with a difference. As the market’s website (https://ryelanemarket.com/food) explained: “The food hall brings together independent kitchens serving Mexican, Peruvian, Caribbean, Indian, Colombian and other cuisines, plus desserts, juice bars and specialty coffee.” In addition to the Carribean and Latin American food stalls, there are several serving dishes typical of various African cuisines. My favourite stall is the Colombian kitchen, where mouthwatering dishes are prepared by a husband and wife team while you wait. On weekday lunchtimes, most of their quite substantial, tasty dishes are served at a special reduced price. It is well worth making a special expedition to this lovely market and its wonderful food court, which unlike so many other food courts, is completely devoid of branches of fast food chains.
Up to this point, I have been recommending places for people who want to eat good food without spending a fortune. The next few places are slightly more expensive, but given their high quality are good value for money.
Mangal 1 (10 Arcola Street, London E8 2DN). London is full of Turkish restaurants, but Mangal 1 is, in my opinion, outstanding. Their meats (lamb and chicken) grilled on a charcoal filled ocakbasi are top class. I particularly enjoy their lokma (rolled lamb fillet), Adana kebab, yogurtlu Adana, and ciger (liver), apart from the yogurtlu dishes, the others are served with generous amounts of mixed salad. One of the many starter dishes which I like is Patlican Salata, which contains grilled aubergines and peppers. But be warned that if you indulge on starters. You might find it difficult to finish the main courses, and it is these that are the ‘stars’ of the meal.
Sporting Club De Londres (27 Elkstone Road, London W10 5NT). From the outside, this place looks like a large garage or warehouse. Step inside, and you will feel as if you have been transported from London to Madeira. But enter only if you have a good appetite because the superbly cooked Portuguese dishes served here are very generous. Everything is good on the menu, from seafood to meat dishes. It is not ultra cheap, but it is very good value, and great fun eating at this haunt of London’s Portuguese community.
Jia (1 Harrington Road, South Kensington, London SW7 3ES). Conveniently close to the South Kensington museums, this Chinese restaurant serves Sichuan dishes. It is popular with Chinese students studying nearby at Imperial College, because the food served at Jia is aimed at the Chinese customers rather than the many tourists who visit the area. For a real treat, order one of the hotpots, which contain enough food for two. Jia is delightfully different from many other (mainly Cantonese) Chinese restaurants in London.
Four Seasons (12 Gerrard Street, W1D 5PR). Located in London’s Chinatown, this is one of many Cantonese restaurants in the area, but one where I have always eaten well. This restaurant is one of several members of a group of Four Seasons restaurants. All of them are noted for the excellence of their roast duck. Although there are many dishes to choose from, my favourite is House Special Fried Noodles. Every time I have ordered it, it has arrived with a different array of seafood and meats. Many other dishes on the menu are worth ordering.
Ciao Bella (86-90 Lamb’s Conduit Street, London WC1N 3LZ). Londo is flooded with restaurants claiming to serve Italian food. Some do it badly, and a minority do it well. Only recently, I ate at Ciao Bella near Russell Square, and the food was really good. Both the pasta and meat dishes would have been quite acceptable had they been served in a trattoria in Italy frequented by locals who know their food. Both my wife and I have spent much time in Italy, and can distinguish between Italian food aimed at foreigners and that which has been prepared for discerning Italian diners. What we ate at Ciao Bella was not only up to the mark, but also not outrageously priced.
Hafez (5 Hereford Road, London W2 4AB). This is a place to see as well as to dine at. This Persian restaurant has the most eccentric interior décor of any restaurant I know. The food served from its extensive menu is quite satisfactory, but not as amazing as the decoration of the room in which you consume it.
Asakusa (265 Eversholt Street, London NW1 1BA). Not far from the popular Camden Market, this quaint Japanese restaurant serves excellent freshly prepared food. Whereas there are many chains serving Japanese food (e.g., Itsu and Wasabi) at supposedly budget prices, they do not provide great quality for the prices they charge. In contrast, Asakusa does give you great quality, and therefore good value for money.
The Champion (1 Wellington Terrace, London W2 4LW). I have travelled all over England in search of a good traditional Sunday roast lunch, and have usually been disappointed. The Champion pub, which is not far from where I live, serves a superb Sunday lunch. The deal is that one orders a platter to be shared by two (hungry) people. This platter contains three expertly roasted, tasty chunks of meat (e.g., lamb, beef, chicken, or pork). The meat is accompanied by a variety of vegetables and the traditional Yorkshire Puddings. And this superb offering is no more costly than the many mediocre Sunday roasts I have eaten elsewhere. Although the Sunday roasts are wonderful at The Champion, I cannot recommend other things I have eaten there.
So, there you have it. You can follow my suggestions or not. I may have omitted many other great places, but those above are ones I know. Once again, I should emphasise that things can change, but I hope that those I have written about neither disappear nor change for the worse.
THE SOAS GALLERY in London’s Bloomsbury is holding an exhibition of traditional textiles from Afghanistan until 19 September 2026. The embroidered items in the show have been lent by the Kiran Thakar Collection.
Some pieces are silk and others wool. Interestingly, there were items that incorporated small mirrors such as also can be found in embroidery in Kachchh (Kutch, western India). At least two exhibits were woven using the ikat technique, also found in Gujarat.
The small, well displayed exhibition is a ‘must’ for anyone interested in Asian textiles, and a joy for those who enjoy beautifully prepared handicrafts.
THE FIRST TIME I visited Paris (France) was with my parents in 1968. We travelled there and back on the Silver Arrow (sleeper) train, which was loaded on to a ferry that plied between Dover and Dunkirk. We tried to sleep in our berths while the train was on board the ship, but I found that difficult mainly because I wanted to watch our train being loaded and unloaded at the channel ports. After returning from Paris, we disembarked from the train at London’s Victoria Station. Immediately after stepping on to the platform, my mother pointed excitedly at a lady exiting the carriage next to ours – our fellow passenger was Sir Winston Churchill’s wife.
During that first visit to Paris, my father pointed out something that sparked my interest. Painted dark green, it was a drinking fountain covered with a decorative dome, which was supported by four sculptures of ladies (caryatids) with bare arms. It was a Wallace Fountain, and after having it pointed out to me, I began spotting them in many parts of Paris,
In 1872 following the Siege of Paris (1870). Sir Richard Wallace paid for 50 of the so-called Wallace Fountains (as described above) to be installed in the city. Each of the drinking fountains is of the same design They were designed by Charles-Auguste Lebourg (1829-1906).
In 1959, a late cast of the of the Wallace Fountain was presented by the London Borough of Shoreditch to Hertford House in London’s Manchester Square. Hertford House is the home of the huge art collection that was established by Sir Richard Wallace, and is now a public art museum – The Wallace Collection. So, it is appropriate that a cast of one of Wallace’s fountains stands close to the Collection’s main entrance.
A website (www.londonremembers.com/memorials/wallace-drinking-fountain) revealed something of the history of London’s Wallace Fountain:
“c. 1904 four ornate fountains were installed in Shoreditch. This was done through the Metropolitan Drinking Fountain and Cattle Trough Association … Artistically designed water fountains were required and Dudley Fortescue found four designs that he liked, including this Wallace design, which he had seen and liked in Paris. The fountain was made and installed at The Oval, Windsor Terrace, EC1, on 19 July 1904. A newspaper report named an anonymous donor, ‘E. F. F.’. Philanthropic men would sometimes give the name of a close female relative, rather than their own but, still, we cannot find an E. F. F. for Dudley Francis Fortescue, his wife being Lady Camilla Eleanor Fortescue, and the marriage having no issue. Perhaps the ‘E.’ was a misprint for ‘D.’? In 1959, when the fountain had ceased to function, the Wallace Collection asked Shoreditch Council if they could have it for Hertford House and it was installed in its current location in 1960.”
The fountain in Manchester Square bears the place name “Val d’Osne”. Another website (https://wallacefountains.org/fabrication-of-the-fountains/) explained:
“During the past 150 years there have been few changes to the methods used to manufacture Wallace Fountains. The decorative cast iron process was invented in France by Jean Pierre Victor André who established a successful, award-winning art foundry in 1835 and set up Val d’Osne, a workshop foundry in the Haute Marne region. The Val d’Osne foundry manufactured the first Wallace Fountains in 1872 and Val d’Osne markings can be found on the oldest fountains still operating in Paris.”
Today, the London’s Wallace Fountain is no longer functional, but every time I see it at Manchester Square, it brings back memories of my first of many visits to “The City of Light”.
