Covering the walls with flowers

AT THIS TIME OF the year (April), many walls in London are partly hidden behind the exuberant bunches of flowers sprouting from the twisted trunks of Wisteria plants.

The Wisteria was originally grown in China, Japan, Korea, Vietnam, southern Canada, the north of Iran, and in the east of the USA.  The first Wisteria plant to be grown in Britain was imported from Canton in China in 1816, This was a Wisteria sinensis plant. In 1830, another variety was introduced from Japan. Both varieties have both mauve flowers and white flowers.

In and around London’s Kensington, where I live, although both colours of flower can be seen, the mauve outnumbers the white.

Dwarfed by dogs in Mayfair’s Dover Street

SOME SAY SMALL is beautiful. But can colossal also be beautiful? This is something that can be explored at the Thaddeus Ropac Gallery in London’s Dover Street until 2 April 2025, where three much larger than life realistic looking sculptures of dogs are on display. These dogs, each about 10 feet high, have been created by the artist Ron Mueck, who was born in Australia in 1958. He now works in the UK.

As the gallery’s website explained:

“Over a career spanning three decades, Mueck is celebrated for exploring the physiological implications of scale. Whether miniaturised or enlarged, his use of scale heightens our awareness of the relative spaces our own bodies occupy, as he charts the full spectrum of human experience with striking perceptiveness.”

The three dogs on display in the exhibition ought to feel menacing, but I did not experience this sensation. I was more amused than over-awed.

An alarming purchase at a supermarket in London

A TRUE STORY

I entered one supermarket and purchased a bottle of gin. I paid for it, and as I left the store, the alarm rang. I ignored it. Nobody stopped me.

I took a bus to another area, where I  entered a different supermarket.  Once again, as I  left the store, nobody, not even the store’s security guard, stopped me.

When I got home, I  discovered that the anti-theft device had been left on my bottle. It should have been removed when I paid for the gin.

I tried removing the tag, which was tied to the neck of the bottle with tough metal cable. I realised that without breaking the glass bottle,  I would not be able to reach the gin.

In the end, I  retraced my steps and returned to the shop, which was a 10 minute bus ride away. I explained what had happened, showed the shop assistant the receipt, and demanded a fresh bottle, but with the security tag removed.

This episode made me wonder why so much effort is put into protecting goods when the security officials at the supermarkets take so little heed of their alarms when they are set off.

Some sculptures at an auction house in London’s Mayfair

THE FAMOUS SCULPTOR Elisabeth Frink (1930-1993) was a regular visitor to our family home in Hampstead Garden Suburb during the 1960s. During that period, I met her whenever she was invited home for dinner, but then I was too young to realise how famous an artist she had become. She was a good friend of my mother, Helen Yamey (1920-1980), who was also a sculptor. Elisabeth and my mother got to know each other when they were both creating art in the Sculpture Department of the St Martins School of Art, when it was in Charing Cross Road.

By Elisabeth Frink

Today (15th of November 2024), I was reminded of my mother’s friendship with Frink when we entered Christie’s auction house in Mayfair. We always enter this place when we are passing near it to see some of the works of art that are on display prior to being auctioned. You never know what gems you are likely to see. Today, there was a small collection of British art created during the past 100 years. Amongst the works on display were two by Elisabeth Frink. There were also some pieces by Henry Moore (1898-1986) and by Barbara Hepworth (1903-1975). One of the works by Hepworth was a painting, the other two were sculptures. Each of these artists has become some of the greatest of 20th century British artists.

During the first half of the 1960s, my mother’s sculptures were chosen to be exhibited in prestigious exhibitions, mainly in London. In these various exhibitions, her work was selected to be exhibited alongside the creations of the three artists mentioned above, as well as other artists, who have now achieved fame (e.g., David Hockney, Paula Rego, Michael Ayrton, and Bridget Riley). Despite this, my mother’s artistic work is now largely forgotten. In my recent book about her, “Remembering Helen: My Mother the Artist”, I describe her life, her character, and consider why her art, which was judged worthy of display with the best artists of the time, has faded into obscurity.

[The book is available from Amazon: https://www.amazon.co.uk/REMEMBERING-HELEN-MY-MOTHER-ARTIST/dp/B0DKCZ7J7X/]

An architect from Korea making something out of nothing in a London park

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.