Kew Bridge Steam Museum

Ah...probably best not to leave it so long before making a new post. Excuses - travel, work, travel, slight illness, travel, cold, travel, work, etc etc. I've probably done close to 40000 miles since my last post, although it has been pointed out to me that all that time spent on planes would surely have been perfect for writing this stuff up. Well, errm, yes, maybe, indeed.
Anyway, time to write up the few museums that exist only as notes and pictures, and head off and visit some new ones. I'll probably take it a little easier, since beasting myself around half a dozen museums every weekend wasn't sustainable. All I need to do is 'loosen' my definition of 'a year' a little, and all will be well ;-)
(Certainly not as long as a year on Jupiter, but quite probably more like a year on Mars.)


So, Kew Bridge Steam Museum. Steam engines of every size, a steam train, everything running and hissing and pumping - I loved it. If I'd come here when I was a ten year old boy, there's a very good chance I'd be wearing an anorak and devoted to steam engines every moment of my spare time (as opposed to wearing an anorak and walking the dog in the rain.)
Driving in and out of London to the office most days, and always passing along the elevated section of the M4, I had idly wondered what the tall, old, campanile-style tower at the Eastern end of the elevated section was. Turns out, I need wonder no more - it's part of the Museum. In fact, the museum is located at one of the original pumping stations for London's water network, and the tower was a part of that.

The Tower, and the Cornish Engine House (I think)

The museum is vast, and has two main, interlocking themes (that I could see anyway): London's water system, and the pumping engines that were needed to drive it.
Both are fascinating, the latter with a lot of moving pistons and steam. The whole place smells vaguely of woodsmoke and meths, with a faint tropical steaminess - like a fairground in August, but without the cheap greasy foodstuffs. It probably helped that I visited on the day of their 'Stirling Engine Rally', meaning a large number of highly enthusiastic men sat behind trestle tables covering in rapidly spinning, steaming, bouncing miniature engines. Everything from solar powered engines, to fluidyne pumps, to displacement hot air engines and more. This is probably what contributed the meths smell...

Stirling Engines of various kinds

And here is a video I took of some representative Stirling Engines in action - intricate and fascinating.

Back to London's water network, I made a note of the following, which clearly struck me as interesting at the time:

• Roman London - water pipes were made of clay
• Medieval London - lead pipes
• Tudor London - A combination of stone, lead and wood
• Georgian London - wood, mostly elm
• Victorian London - cast iron

And as a modern day Londoner, I can tell you that we now use plastic for our pipes (I believe high density polyethylene) - and most of our roads around here have been variously dug up for large percentages of the past five years as the old cast iron mains are slowly replaced.
I'm not sure why wood was though to be a good material to make pipes from, I wouldn't have thought it would last that well - although having visited one of the world's oldest oil refineries last year (1890s), they had also discovered wooden pipes had been in use there (found when excavating ground for a new project.)

London's Ring Water Main

The London water system also explains the large plastic/glass water tower in the middle of Holland Park roundabout, which I walk past most days. To my shame, I vaguely thought it was some kind of art installation....

Before I move on to the big engines, a couple of fairly random words I absorbed, because they sounded amusing...

• Schmutzdecke - in water filtration systems, this is the layer of algae and other bio- stuff on top of the layers of sand and charcoal.
• Gonkfermor - a medieval street cleaner.

The steam engines are the main event here - there are a lot of them, and they are clearly lovingly kept in pristine condition. Here are a few shots of various ones:

I think this is a Hawthorn Davey Triple Expansion engine, but my notes are unclear

Running Water Wheel

I'd say there are a couple of dozen steam engines all told - and they are all in running order, although to conserve fuel the museum fires the bigger ones up on a rota, so you need to check their website for dates and times. I particularly wanted to see the giant Cornish engines running- and was there on the right day, but the wrong time.
The Cornish largely invented the steam driven pumping engine for the mining industry - notably Thomas Newcomen (although wikipedia tells me he was from Devon, hmmm) and James Watt. According to the museum, the expertise in building these engines was concentrated in Cornwall, so when new ones needed to be built throughout the UK (and presumably through the Empire) teams of Cornishmen came to do it, as they did with the enormous three-storey high Cornish engines at Kew Bridge. Being somewhat Cornish myself, I quite like to think of skilled bands of Cornish engineers, technicians, surveyors and builders bringing steam power and the industrial revolution to the world.
The Cornish engines at Kew Bridge are housed in their own three storey house. My notes aren't clear, but I believe the biggest could pump something like 800 litres of water in every stroke. The beams for the two engines were 90 and 100 inches long, respectively. My pictures probably don't do their immensity justice, but here they are anyway:

Looking Up

Big

The Beam at the top

Innards of the machine

In addition to the great many fixed engines, the museum also has a short stretch of track, and an immaculate steam locomotive. I didn't ride on it, although I wanted to, but did note that it was possible to make a payment (£50 I recall) and actually drive the engine. Now that would be worth it...next time.

Loco

And a couple more random shots which I happen to like:

Superlatives aren't worth it - Kew Bridge Steam Museum is simply great. It's possible some people wouldn't like it, but if you have any interest in huge, gleaming machines, let alone critical industrial history, you should go and have a look. I can't recommend it highly enough.

I also noted that they are always on the lookout for volunteers to help maintain and run the engines. I barely have time to write a blog, but what a great way to spend some hours in the week...
And...you can rent the whole place out for events (e.g. corporate, social etc) - now that would make a team event more interesting than the 100s of PowerPoint slides it invariably actually is.

Cost: £9.50 for adults, less for concessions. And free re-entry for 12 months. I also bought a mug, which I won't let anyone else drink from.
Food and Drink: Quite a good cafe, although don't expect it to be art-museum trendy, it isn't.
Toilets: Good.
Travel: It's here.
Web: http://www.kbsm.org/visiting-us

Carlyle's House

A small house, tucked away in the corner of (then) unfashionable Chelsea - but effectively the intellectual centre of the British Empire at the peak of it's Victorian expansion and might. Thomas Carlyle lived at 24 Cheyne Row for decades, with his wife Jane, and could mainly be considered philosopher and historian, although was also a satirist, lecturer and essayist. He influenced many great thinkers and writers of the time, and also both socialist and fascist movements - a neat trick.

The importance of Carlyle is probably better put in this quote from George Eliot than by me (she was a writer, so should have a better turn of phrase than me...):
"It is an idle question to ask whether his books will be read a century hence. If they are all burnt on his funeral pyre it would only be like cutting down an oak after it's acorns have sewn a forest." I'm not about to trace his influences through modern thought, I'm too lazy for that - and if you're interested, we have this thing called 'the Internet' these days. I'd also point out all his writings are out of copyright so freely available from Project Gutenberg. I've installed a wodge of them on my Kindle, but haven't got round to reading them yet - although I did read his first major work on the French Revolution many years ago. It was pretty good as I recall (the book; the revolution had mixed results, but of course it's still too soon to say ;-)

It's another no photo policy environment, although (and I apologise to the very helpful guides who I mentioned this blog to) I did snap a few shots. I just couldn't help myself.
The opening description of it being a small house in unfashionable Chelsea is perhaps a little misleading now it's 2011 and not 1840. Back then, Chelsea was half farmland, and was a very uncool place to live - the wealthy were in Mayfair, Belgravia and so on. A more accurate description of the house would now be 'a large house in uber-fashionable Chelsea', worth perhaps £12 million. How times change. If only I'd thought to buy it back in 1840...

Small and unfashionable

Thomas Carlyle

The house is almost obsessively authentic, as far as I can tell- and extremely well preserved. Every room is as it was, with original furniture. In the first floor drawing room I commented on the nice, presumably William Morris, wallpaper (a kind of restful repetitive green leaves pattern) only to have the guide in that room apologise and tell me it wasn't the actual wallpaper from Carlyle's time as that had been stripped out by the following tenant. But is was William Morris (I guessed right! check out my mad skillz, ahem), and very close to the original (which can be seen in a painting of the Carlyles downstairs.)

There are many items on display - books, manuscripts, personal items, and many quotations on Carlyle, who was a very famous man in his day.
Queen Victoria had this to say:
"A strange looking eccentric old Scotchman, who holds forth in a drawling melancholy voice upon the utter degradation of everything." That's what I want to be when I grow up too...actually, apart from the drawling, that pretty much describes me perfectly.

Presumably a child's bath?

Thackeray had this to say:
"Tom Carlyle lives in perfect dignity in a little house in Chelsea with a snuffy Scotch maid to open the door and the best company in England ringing at it." And that's the interesting point - society, the well to-do and the great men and women of the time were all willing to trek out from the centre to what was basically the farming village of Chelsea, just to hang out with Carlyle. I think that's why the National Trust maintains the house and his memory today - he played a major, albeit mainly forgotten, role in shaping modern Britain. Less directly than others, but major nonetheless.

Dickens:
"I would go further to see Tom Carlyle than any man alive". I'm not sure if Dickens is referring to himself travelling further than anyone else, or being willing to go further to see Carlyle instead of anyone else - although it doesn't really matter, he was clearly a fan.

Cast of Carlyle's Hands. I don't know why

Jane Carlyle "most of life's problems can be traced to the bowels."

And one last quote from Carlyle himself, which adds to his decision to live in Chelsea (above it's cheapness), on his view North East across to London itself, "...and by night the the gleam of the Great Babylon affronting the peaceful skies." Well put.

Aside from the obvious Carlyle links, this is an excellently preserved house across four floors- dark and a little sombre, but that was pretty much the default for houses until, well, Habitat and Ikea came along I suppose.

And I simply don't understand Jane Carlyle's severe, plastered to the head haircut, which she sports in all images of her in the house. I know Victorians had some interesting ideas on what looked good, but this is quite extraordinary in it's harshness. I thought I had a picture but I don't, but here is a detail from a painting

Maybe I'm over-reacting - it's not so bad

I was chatting to one of the guides and the curator before I left. The curator actually lives in the property, which is open March to October. I don't know how much work there is to do year round (quote a bit of upkeep and admin I'd imagine) and I doubt it pays well, but it struck that that might not be a bad way to spend some time working, even if it is in deeply unfashionable Chelsea.

Cost: £5.10. But free to Art Fund members, and presumably National Trust members (it's a Trust property.)
Food and Drink: None, there would be no space for it. The King's Road is very close.
Toilets: I didn't see any.
Travel: It's here. Just off the King's Road, and a stone's throw from the Thames. I got the bus down and back.
Web: http://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/main/w-vh/w-visits/w-findaplace/w-carlyleshouse/

Only open March to October so plan accordingly. It would probably help to read some Carlyle first, even if it's just the (good) Wikipedia page.

Courtauld Gallery

The Courtauld Gallery describes itself as "one of the finest small museums in the world." It's not actually that small, compared to most museums, but I take their point - what they really mean is, it's nowhere near the size of the Louvre, the Guggenheim or the Metropolitan Museum of Art, but it has just as important a collection. And that is indeed the truth.
The Courtauld has an extremely fine collection of art, from the early renaissance to the 20th century. In particular, and maybe it's just my interests lie there, it has an amazing collection from around 1850 to 1930 and a little beyond. I'll name-drop a long list of impressionists, post-impressionists and possibly expressionists shortly, but be clear - the Courtauld is a world class art gallery, containing many historic and outright famous works. Some you will probably have seen - but like me, you may well ponder where exactly (unless you did an art degree.) Here's an example, Manet's 'A Bar at the Folies-Bergere'

Add caption

Recognise it? The thing I love most, apart from her expression (she doesn't really look that happy to be working there, bored and probably irritated by drunken customers and artists) is the bottle of Bass in the bottom right corner. I'd associate the Folies-Bergere in it's pomp more with absinthe and champagne, and less with hearty English working-man's ale.

Once again I'm taking the cowards way out with the images - I took a load of photos, and as I didn't see any signs or get told off, I'm presuming that was OK. But this time they were more of an aide-memoire, and I'm linking to wiki commons for better quality images (and I'd hope legal immunity...;-)

On entering the gallery - which is the North West corner of the great Somerset House (sit on the terrace and look out over the Thames; film screenings in the courtyard in Summer, although take a lot of cushions, the last time I went I couldn't walk properly for a few days) I looked at the gallery of religious triptychs and objects on the ground floor. Amazing stuff, no doubt, but never really to my taste entirely. Here is a sample:

Triptych - 14th Century I think

From there I headed to the top floor, figuring it would be best to work my way down. I don't know if that makes sense or not as that seemed to have me working backwards in time from the mid-20th century. Going the other way in chronological order would be smarter. My only warning would be it's a surprisingly long climb to the top, so take the lift...

The current temporary exhibition is Victorian watercolours, with some very nice works by the likes of Hunt and Millais

Millais

Echo-ing my thoughts at the Guildhall gallery, these Victorian works were possibly even more informal in style- maybe as a result of the more 'casual' medium of watercolours and small pieces of paper/card, as opposed to oils and large canvases.

Once into the permanent collection proper, the top floor is a breathtaking display of impressionism, expressionism, fauvism and probably some other movements I'm not aware of.
Here goes: Kandinsky, Pechstein, Kokoschka, Matisse, Vlaminck, Dufy, Picasso, Braque, Seurat, Van Gogh, Gauguin, Manet, Monet, Degas, Renoir. And not just minor works - serious, major works. As far as I can tell. Warning, don't take art advice from random bloggers. Wikipedia is your friend here.
I'm going to try and show what I felt were some of the highlights below.

Kokoschka - Polperro

I add the above as a poor quality phone shot because I loved the painting, and also because its the Cornish fishing village of Polperro, very close to where I grew up. I once stayed for a weekend in a house that had this exact view over the harbour.

Monet - Cap d'Antibes

 

Van Gogh - Self Portrait with a Bandaged Ear

Vlaminck - Fishermen at Argenteuil

In person, the Vlaminck painting above struck me forcibly how much it was derivative of Van Gogh (which later research bears out in Vlaminck's own words) - but, it doesn't really come across above. Probably a good example of why crappy little jpegs aren't really any substitute for going to see the real thing. The sheer density and molding of the paint can't be seen here.

Cezanne

A Nude by Modigliani

The above painting was deemed obscene on account of the wisps of pubic hair. It's a good job the guardians of morality back then never caught sight of the Internet, they'd have stroked out on the spot.

Kandinsky - The Red Circle

I love this Kandinsky - to me it seems tribal, naturalistic and, well, plain funky to be honest. Bitches Brew era Miles Davis comes to mind.

Cranach the Elder

You get the general idea. Lots of top quality paintings by great artists in their prime. Not much else for me to say. Apparently the shop is very good, but I forgot to go into it (it's opposite the main entrance in a different part of the building.)

Cost: £6, although cheaper from March to June, and Mondays pre 2pm are free. Also free to friends of the gallery and Art Fund members of course.
Food and Drink: The cafe looked very good, although I'd actually had a muffin in the other Somerset House cafe at the South end of the courtyard. You're spoiled for choice.
Toilets: Good. Maybe could do with a lick of paint if you want to be fussy.
Travel: It's here.
Web: http://www.courtauld.ac.uk

Museums - Historically Hardcore

A 'big' Internet hit of the last week, created by a couple of advertising folks (students possibly) as an exercise for the Smithsonian (who complained when the pictures became an Internet hit and asked for their name to be removed). Attribution here.
I love the strapline - Museums. Historically Hardcore.
Advertising genius!

Cigar Museum - JJ Fox

I'd love to be able to say JJ Fox are my cigar merchants - I trundle out of my club in St James and sample their wares, order a couple of boxes of fine Havana cigars on account and head off. But...I don't have a club in St James. Or anywhere, unless you include the gym (or work.) And I don't smoke. And hence I don't actually need a cigar merchant.

However, JJ Fox is, they claim, the oldest trading tobacconist in the world - in this same building albeit only under this name for the last twenty years. It's a nice size, old-fashioned type shop, and the aroma of fine tobacco is extremely pleasant when you enter. In fact, it's nothing like the sour, cheap, nasty stench you may encounter when trying to get into any office or public building, having to push through the throng of gray-faced wheezing guardians chewing on their nasty cigarettes. No, this is smoking of a much higher grade, even a non-smoker than smell that.

And what does this have to do with museums? Well, as the extremely helpful and pleasant staff will tell you, downstairs is a cigar museum. I believe it was the original storeroom/walk in humidor, which has now transferred upstairs behind big glass doors.
And how can this be interesting you may ask? Well, it may not be big, but they have a pretty good collection of interesting items - not about the history of cigars, but more the people who bought cigars there, most notably Winston Churchill and, Oscar Wilde.

The Museum

As it was when Churchill used to visit

The chair Churchill used to sit in and test cigars- and maybe just relax, having got away from Downing Street, or the War - is still there. I sat in it, and it's possibly one of the most uncomfortable chairs I've ever sat in - all lumpy. I guess it is old, but I like to think that Churchill's bum simply wore it out.

Caution - uncomfortable but highly historic chair!

Their main claim to fame is being Churchill's cigar merchant - and as everyone in the world knows, Churchill loved his cigars. There is correspondence and his own account ledger and other items. A display of letters includes this fantastic one:

Send the boy some cigars, just not as good as mine

They also have a tin believed to contain the oldest existing cigars in the world. It's closed, and presumably they'd be somewhat dry and revolting by now.

Churchill's own cigars

Oscar Wilde defaulted on his bill - he did get put in jail in fairly dire circumstances.

Oscar, with letter of bankruptcy

Wilde left just over £37 unpaid - which to my mind, in the late 19th century, was surely a lot of cigars.

There's a lot of great memorabilia, books and odd items. This picture caught my eye:

A Cuban Cigar Factory

The famous phrase has it that the finest cigars are 'rolled on the thighs of Cuban virgins.' I am fairly certain anyone uttering that cliche doesn't have the above virgins in mind....

By Royal Appointment to - virtually every King for a very long time

It's a fascinating little museum, and the staff have clearly put a lot of effort and energy into it, and are justly proud.
The amazing smell of the place prompted me to buy a couple of cigars (yes, I don't smoke, but I have had the odd cigar in the past.) I think I marked myself out as a novice by asking for something 'not very strong'. They couldn't have been more helpful - and there are a very large number of cigars they have in stock. I haven't smoked either one yet, I'll wait for a special occasion.

Cost: Free. You don't need to buy a cigar either, they won't mind.
Food and Drink:  No. Tobacco, yes.
Toilets: No. Don't be ridiculous.
Travel: It's here. Just round the corner from The Ritz, which is handy.
Web: www.jjfox.co.uk

Sir John Soane's Museum

Sir John Soane's Museum...defies easy description. But that won't stop me making a poor effort. It almost certainly is unlike anything you've ever experienced before. Situated on the North side of Lincoln's Inn Fields, it's three town houses merged together. It's basically a home crossed with a labyrinth - regency plush in one room, gothic and eldritch in the next.
Imagine you're the self made son of a bricklayer, one of the finest and most successful architects England has ever produced. You designed the Bank of England amongst other things. You have impeccable taste and a seemingly very large amount of money. You collect art and sculpture. Your two sons so deeply disappoint you that you decide to establish your house and belongings as a museum rather than leave anything to them. Now you'll start to understand the oddity that is Sir John Soane's Museum.

It's beyond quirky. The leaflet from the museum claims with some justification (although no attribution) that it has been described as the 'supreme example of the house museum in the world.' That's probably not far off.
I've visited a few times, and wasn't actually planning to visit today  - but on my way to the Courtald Gallery I walked down Lincoln's Inn fields, and just couldn't resist. I had been saving it for later because I knew it wouldn't be an easy one to write about - but that's exactly how I'd describe it, 'if you're passing anywhere near it, you simply have to visit, no matter how many times you've been.' It's free as well.

One word of caution - there are a lot of helpful guides, but photography is not allowed. Not even flash-less from a carefully concealed iPhone. The house is literally byzantine, with odd shaped rooms tapering upwards to skylights, and most with many possible entrances and exits - meaning one of the guides may wander into view at any moment. I got told off twice, quite sternly. I wont rant about it yet again, my views on photos are known - but I will say I apologised both times with an 'I'm sorry I didn't realise' but internally I was seething like a thwarted child. I need to work on that.

Anyway, the calibre of the shots is very poor, sorry about that. They were taken at extreme speed and in some small degree of mild terror. And there are no photos on the Internet, nor really on the museum website itself. You will have to just go there, which is strongly recommended - it's unique.

Study looking into Dining Room

The above photo shows something that only dawned on me this visit, perhaps the fourth time I've been there - the whole house is carefully built around light and it's use. There are partially hidden skylights, cupolas, windows and gratings everywhere. The above (poor) shot shows the light coming through the dining room windows, but also entering from multiple skylights above, and windows onto a small sunken courtyard to the side. I think my other visits were all in deep winter, or after dark, so this time the piercing light quality illuminated it better than I've ever seen. However, they also do evening viewings on the first Tuesday of every month, and seeing the place in the dark is equally highly recommended. Go twice!

Light from above

Still spooky in the Crypt

There are many rooms in the house (it was three houses remember) and they are stuffed with 'objects' - collections of miniatures, major art works, casts of faces and heads, books, and endless other things that defy cataloguing by me. The basement crypt contains perhaps 1000s of casts, and the 3000 year old sarcophagus of Seti I:

The Crypt and Seti I

Ornate hieroglyphics on the Sarcophagus

When Soane bought the sarcophagus (because the British Museum decided it wouldn't pay the asking price to bring it to London) the hieroglyphics were still undeciphered (they turned out to be the story of the soul's passage through the underworld, maybe they could have guessed that one, did the ancient Egyptians ever talk about anything else?) I was rumbled taking this shot, and it doesn't really work - these things entirely cover the enormous calcite limestone sarcophagus, it's quite amazing.

The beauty of this museum is moving from room to room, down corridors stuffed with items - it's like the world's most refined hoarder lived here.

Endless Artefacts

What's down this one then? I think that's Hercules

So - I can't really say much more on the artefacts - they burst from the seams and carpet the walls of many obscurely shaped rooms, the whole effect is overwhelming in a peculiarly intimate way.
There are also many major artworks Soane collected - famously Hogarth's Rake's Progress and An Election, but also works by Canaletto, Turner, Reynolds and more.

Scene from A Rake's Progress

The Hogarth works are probably his most celebrated. The room they are exhibted in has floor to (high) ceiling paintings, and also one wall cunningly opens out to show yet more paintings. The guide needs to do this for you.

Scene from An Election

More than many museums I've been to - this really is one where I have to insist you visit. It's unlike anything else, but also has the major artworks and items you'd expect in a major museum.

Sir John Soane's Museum

Cost: Free. A guide leaflet is £2. And they need donations for a major programme of works stretching to 2014.
Food and Drink: None, they don't have the room. Didn't you read what I wrote about all the artefacts and stuff cluttering the place up?
Toilets: In the basement, very good.
Travel: It's here. Lincoln's Inn Fields, one minute from Holborn Tube.
Web: http://www.soane.org/