I. arrived from Berlin on Friday evening and we had a lovely dinner out, with my friend De. We went to an Indian restaurant on Charlotte Street, where our dorm is. I. and I had seen each other in Florence last summer, so we didn't have too much catching up to do, and we have kept loosely in touch via e-mail, but imagining what it was going to be like to meet up with D and A on Saturday was very exciting.
On Saturday morning I. and I set off at about 10 o'clock for the Hayward Gallery on the South Bank of the Thames. D and A had reserved four tickets for us to see the Antony Gormley exhibition, titled Blind Light. Our appointment with D and A was for 11. As we walked over the Waterloo Bridge on our way to the gallery, we met a man of bronze, which we later discovered was part of the exhibition. There were a number of full body casts of the artist, naked, and they were strategically positioned on the rooftops of buildings around the gallery, with one on the bridge, and they were all facing the terraces of the gallery. These statues created an atmosphere before we even reached the other side of the river, because we began to spot them on the tops of buildings.
When we got to the gallery we bought a cup of hot chocolate and settled on some outside chairs to look around. I. was afraid that we might not recognize them, since it had been 23 years since we'd seen each other in person, but I had no doubts. I knew I would spot them immediately. And I did. Let me tell you what makes this friendship so special. We may go five years without speaking or writing, but then, when we do talk, time just collapses, and our conversation feels like it had just been interrupted moments before -- we effortlessly pick up where we left off. Here's a mathematical equation:
True friendship (Tf) = knowing we are in each other's hearts no matter what (no resentment or recriminations for the inevitable periods of silence).
Here's another:
Tf = feeling that you have really caught up, even though not that much is said, because the silent communication of smiles and squeezes of an elbow communicate all that is necessary.
Well, what can I say. Hugs and kisses all around, and then a lovely stroll through the exhibition, which was very interesting and dynamic. Gormley's works are very evocative, and even the conceptual installations are not so abstruse or opaque that they can't be appreciated by the lay appreciator of art. It was a lovely couple of hours. Here are some pix:
One of the Gormley bronze casts on a building across from one of the terraces at the Hayward.
This was a fun installation in the exhibition. A room full of fog. As you can see, visibility was limited to about a foot, and after two feet you really couldn't see a thing. The four of us went in, and when we came out we found that D. and I. had found it disconcerting and a little uncomfortable, while A. and I both enjoyed it. I found it freeing and A spent the most time in there, and had a big grin on his face when he came out.
I know that there are people right inside the door, but I can't see them. The fog billowing out the opening was very atmospheric. What fun!
More bronze casts hanging upside down from steel cables. All these photos were taken before we were told that we weren't allowed to take photos at all. Oops!
A wonderfully picturesque view from one of the terraces. In addition to the bronze naked Gormley looking at us in the foreground, if you look carefully you'll see another one perched on the far end of the same building, right in the middle of the ferris wheel. Cool!
The beautiful D., me and the dashingly handsome A. on the terrace. This is why I'm in London, really! :-)
The lovely D., the incomparable A., and the endlessly young and fresh I., straight from Berlin. Happiness.
What can I say? This is what it's all about, as far as I'm concerned.
Come on, admit it, isn't he handsome? And look at her! She's just pretending to age by dying her hair gray, but she's really 35. Isn't she a beauty?
After the Gormley exhibition, we headed off on foot to the Tate Modern. What made this day so wonderful was that since we did a lot of walking, we naturally split up in pairs, so everyone got to have private tete-a-tete conversations with everyone else. We were able to have gregarious foursome moments alternating with private interviews. What more could one ask, I say?
Lunch at the Tate Modern, followed by a stroll through some of the galleries. After the Gormley, which was cohesive and had a great internal tension that kept you focused and alert the entire time, the paintings and sculptures we saw at the Tate felt like a random hodgepodge. There were a few striking pieces, but there was no coherence, no global vision. And there was too much visual noise, too many paintings on each wall, no room to breathe between them. Not that this in any way diminished our enjoyment of the day.
After the Tate we were all museum-ed out, as they would say in New York, so we walked the streets. I expressed a desire for a real English tea -- scones and clotted cream and jam -- but apparently anything English is extremely demode, depasse, out, decidedly uncool, and the streets are lined with Starbucks, Italian coffee shops... Ironic, me being half New Yorker and half Florentine, the two very things that seem uncool, etc. to me, are exotic to the average Londoner, I guess. Anyway, my friend Matt in New York is from London, and he had recommended Claridges, but A. said they would never let us in with our anoraks, so... I had to capitulate and we went to an Italian coffee shop for our final cup of tea together. We sat for an hour or so, chatted gaily, ate and drank some more, and then I. and I walked them to the tube station, where we said a quick and cheerful goodbye, more hugs and kisses, and waved them off. I. and I walked home to the dorm, where we regaled De. with the tales of our lovely day. I will officially say this was one of the best days of my life, and I'm not being hyperbolic, which is definitely my wont. Nothing earth shattering happened, no great revelations, but it was just lovely. I won't let another 23 years go by, I promise.
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Sunday: De. and I had so much studying to do, and we were so tired. So we decided that, after resting a bit in the morning, we would spend the day in the dorm working on our journals and reading our literature, while I. caught up with a friend from Nigeria who lived here in London (I. has several siblings from Nigeria, on her father's side). We made an appointment in a Starbucks on Tottenham Court Road to meet K., I's friend, and when she got there, you won't believe this, she told us that one of I's sisters from Nigeria was in town!
As we had planned, De. and I spent the afternoon studying, while I. and K. caught up with each other. When I. came back to the dorm, we made a date for dinner with her sister, the lovely B. Here are the pictures of our evening:
De, me and I. These pictures were taken after dinner, as we headed to the tube.
This is I.'s beautiful sister B., on the left, and her good friend P., on the right. We were all happy about this serendipitous meeting and the delicious dinner we had enjoyed together.
The two sisters. Can you see the resemblance? I can!
Well, I think that was enough excitement for one weekend, don't you agree? Love to all friends and family, and good night!
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