Send My Conscience Home in a Taxi

Externalised Memory

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Weekend in Tooting
Drawing of a trike
Golly, where did I get up to? Oh yes, I was staying on a living room floor in Tooting in London, with Deb, on an inflatable mattress.

On the Saturday we met up with a friend of mine - vedmajulia in fact - at the Tate Modern. The Tate Modern is on the banks of the Thames, and is in an old power station. Part of the entrance is a massive massive room where they kept the turbines. It must be six or seven stories high. At the bottom of it they had some kind of interactive art going on, with a lot of kids running about squealing.

There's some great stuff in the Tate Modern - once we finally got in there, we were somewhat distracted by the cafe and its supplies of beer and green tea. As usual, I more or less ran through some galleries, dismissing entire art movements and decades out of hand. My by now four companions - Deb, Mikey, Cecily and Julia - had to take in the art at a different rate, so there was some doubling back on my part!

I particularly liked a very large scale portrait by Diego Rivera. Was less impressed by an Anselm Kieffer installation, who is by and large one of my favourite artists. This installation consisted of a dead palm tree and some prints on the wall. On a side note, Kieffer seems to be big in Europe. There's a commissioned work by him in the Lourve, and a lot of his work in a gallery in Berlin. Which is his home city so that's not a huge surprise.

The Tate also has a huge collection of old Russian propaganda pictures, which was very cool. Luckily we had a Russian with us to translate them! Mind you for the most part it's pretty easy to tell when they're singing the praises of the five year plan or cursing the fascist beast or showing the evils of capitalism.

That was about all I can recall from the Tate, I think there was a lot of forgettable stuff, bad modern sculptures. I do remember some Anime based very shiny art which I quite liked.

After that we adjourned to the Blackfrairs Pub, back across the river. The Blackfriars were a bunch of Monks, who apparently brewed a particularly good beer. The interior of the pub is decorated with some serious brass reliefs of Monks getting up to various Monkish activities - praying, brewing booze, flagilating the new guy. Nice pub, lots of brews on hand, great Olde English brooding interior.

Then we traipsed miles across town, to a suburb near Earl's Court, because Deb had identified a Pizza joint which made gluten free pizza! Google maps on my phone showed us the way, and indeed they did have gluten free pizza! It was a themed place called Hell's Pizza, which turned out to be part of a New Zealand chain, which Deb had indeed encountered in New Zealand. I played their pinball machine a couple of times, not very successfully, what with lacking anything like decent hand-eye co-ordination. And the Pizza was Pizzery and good.

And that was pretty much all we did that day...


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