The Natural History Museum (2)

Cromwell Road

London SW7 5BD

Thursday November 9 2017

It’s nearly two years since we last visited the Natural History Museum and in many ways we were looking for some consolation, amongst what should be the jewels in our crown of National Museums, after our less than educational visit to the next door establishment of the Science Museum and, we were not disappointed.

We are both old enough to remember when the Museum of Geology was a separate institution, with a separate entrance, but since he end of the 1980s it has been part of the Natural History Museum, now incorporated into what is known as the Red Zone. Unlike the grandeur of the Victorian halls of the Dinosaur/Whale bits of the institution, Geology is still housed in its no less spacious 1930s galleries and that is where we started our visit today.

We enjoyed the entrance foyer to this part where star exhibits were placed in the wall alongside a series of ‘phrases and sayings’ using stones and minerals as metaphors or comparisons… so ‘good as gold’ ‘hard as nails’ ‘tough as steel’ ‘feet of clay’.

You then enter a broad corridor with exhibits on both sides.

The different rock formations are clearly explained with different examples of each – sedimentary (settled deposits a bit like solid mud) and igneous (formed by volcanic or explosive core forces) and metamorphic – roughly speaking a combination of the other types put under pressure so they sort of fold. Apologies for the totally non-scientific and probably incorrect summary but there is text which both explains it (rock formation) simply and goes into more detail. 

From there it goes onto explain crystals and how they form within the rocks and here the displays are wonderful. There is one showing that when you break/drop certain minerals or stones they will shatter into the same shape bits, as opposed to smashing a tea cup, which shatters randomly. 

We have to give credit to the original collectors who in the spirit of the Victorian plant hunters and animal collectors went round collecting rocks, noting from where they came and in some cases naming them. Not surprisingly these early collectors were largely men with enough of a private income to pursue their interests but several gave their annotated collections to the Museum which is now the richer for their work.

To say we drooled might be an overstatement but there are ranks of display cases full of the most beautiful gem stones showing how they would have appeared as the crystals in the stones and rocks and how they then looked once polished and mounted. The finished gems are shown on hat pins so one is not distracted by the settings (you can tell I am a jeweller’s   daughter) and can wonder at the skill of the miners – never an easy job and exploited everywhere – to see what can be made from a stone…

The range of gems and colours is a true delight. Some resemble fronded coral others slices of bacon – the range is enormous. 

On from there we were told about the usefulness of many of the elements presented in their unrefined forms. This ranged from many decorative marbles used for statuary or impressive table tops, clay which forms the basis of much pottery. Slate is a native stone used usefully for tiling (there were some question and answer boards inviting you to choose different materials for different functions) and of course while marble makes excellent   floors it would be hopelessly heavy for tiles and roofs where slate fits the bill. There was a section showing how very small amounts (‘'rare earth elements'  are used for technology components though in fact they are not as rare as all that. There is quite a lot of space allocated to asbestos which technically is a fibrous silicate, and looks both pretty and very tactile – soft light and downy. Unfortunately though it has wonderful properties of insulation and fire proofing it is also very dangerous and over the years many have died at every stage of its  manufacture, installation and destruction. 

There is of course a large section on the most common and practical use of the earth’s resources – namely as building materials.  In the UK we have long had access to a source for brick making and the Romans kindly left us with a recipe for cement to stick them together. And once you have cement you can go on to make concrete, which just about accounts for the rest of our urban structures….

We enjoyed this section of the natural History Museum very much as it reminded us clearly of the riches below the earth’s surface and how useful and attractive they have been to us, though there was little to say that at times man’s greed has led to exploitation of both labour and land…

Once in the Red Zone we descended in order to ascend the very dramatic escalator which takes you into the bright red glowing ‘core ‘of the earth. (Our photos do not do justice to this somewhat kitsch approach) and once through the outer layers of earth we came to the galleries which explain about the three interlinked but nevertheless separate elements  (in a non-Chemical  sense) which constitute the unstable nature of the earth – that is the Tectonic plates, earthquakes and volcanoes. All these three phenomena are very clearly explained with large print graphics and many photos from what can only be called ‘disasters’ of the last 100 years. Of course it’s all the subterranean activity has been going on for much longer and it was interesting to learn how explosions were linked to displeasing the gods. There was even a Japanese early warning system whereby brass balls fell into frogs’ open mouths thus indicating the likely direction for the impending earthquake! Here films come into their own and there is of course an earthquake simulator, which is pretty sobering though many children were approaching it rather as a fairground attraction…

This section is well visited and again there was the opportunity to handle some rock samples from volcanic episodes.

The Red Zone section felt very much as though they had conserved the best of the past with the plentiful rock collections but had updated much of it to make it relevant to modern day use and function.  

Apologies - photos not good due to poor light levels and what looks like earth tremors affecting focus.... 

Science Museum. Part 3

Thursday 2 November 2017

We had last visited this enormous Museum almost a year ago, to enjoy the impressive Mathematics Gallery.  This time, we thought we would have the general look that we had failed to achieve in January.  Having been so impressed last time, I should say at the start that we were underwhelmed on this trip. In our methodical way, we thought we would start at the top and work down.  The lifts signposted to 'Flight' were out of order, so we walked up to the third floor, and then made our way through the paying attraction which seemed to be fairground rides simulating the experience of the Red Arrows.

Since we were also passing the entry to Wonderlab, there were many excited children. Arriving in the galleries devoted to the history of Flight, we enjoyed pictures of Daedalus and Icarus, angels and some Leonardo drawings.  It was interesting to note how long the wish to imitate birds lasted, with several (failed) ornithopters with their flapping wings on display. Marey's detailed sequence photos of birds flying reminded us that this dream lasted into modern times. The captioning was often interesting, but hard to read.  We were not clear why the lighting had to be so dim. Perhaps the museum is so concerned with attracting youth, who do not read captions, to bother about accessibility for the more mature visitor.

the 18th century saw a new and successful development, with the Montgolfiers' highly successful and fashionable hot air balloons. We admired the souvenir ceramics, snuff boxes and other souvenirs, but would have liked a bit more about - well - the science of balloon flight.

Looking for inspiration from other flying objects, and from other technological developments, Hiram Maxim developed a steam flying machine which, unsurprisingly, did not work.  We wondered who he was:  is he the Maxim gun man?  But we could find no information about his life. 

Then there were gliders, Cody's 1902 Man Lifting War Kite (!) pedalled machines and eventually the Wright brothers, Bleriot, and so on.

A number of cases contained model aeroplanes, from the earliest types to Concorde. More interesting than these was the amazingly florid Schneider Trophy.

Models of airships were also displayed including a photo of the inside of the Hindenburg, with its aluminium grand piano

A considerable space was taken up with examples of and information about war planes, but the captions were small and dense.  The same applies to the information about navigation and radio communications for pilots

The area about passenger flight entertained Linda who remembers clearly flying Caledonia, with the brightly tartan-clad cabin crew.








Above our heads were more aeroplanes, which seemed robust enough to withstand a little more light than was supplied.  We ignored the large area occupied by unadorned aero-engines, and moved on. After our enjoyment of the Maths Gallery last time, we both felt we should have liked more about how planes are designed, what makes them stay in the air and so on.



One floor down is what is grandly called 'The Information Age'. There seemed to be some sort of art work at the start, but since the interactive wasn't working, we remained baffled.  A list of types of meat from pork loin to chorizo? Why? Later we met some charming young men in t-shirts that said 'gallery technical support' but they said this wasn't their area.  Why museums waste money on computer driven stuff and then fail to maintain it is a complete puzzle.  


Having walked round the raised walkway, passing the Eurostar satellite, we headed down into the display area, which was again rather dark.  Clearly we needed the app to make sense of it all. We failed to manage a chronological tour, but we saw some information about Tim Berners-Lee and the Web (though the interactive was not working) and a number of old computers.  Aah, the nostalgia of seeing a BBC-B!

Because Joe Lyons, of the Lyons Corner Houses, used very early computer technology for stock control, there was a case of Lyons comestible tins. On the other hand, a case containing a child's plate and a standard 1950s mixing bowl had no explanation at all. There were numbers by the objects but no key.  I waylaid a staff member as he emerged from some offices to ask what the mixing bowl was for, and he told me there should be a key and he would report the fact that there wasn't.  So it was not only the interactives which were not working....

There was a section about radio, and the Rugby radio station, illustrated by the induction coils which were copper in a wooden frame, which came to the museum in 2003. But what an induction coil is, why copper, what 'very low frequency'  means - all this was left unexplained.

The same applies to a display of thermionic valves, though thank to Tim Berners-Lee we were able to find out what they are when we got home.  And when we came to Marconi, the metal coils and glass thingies were displayed but not explained.  .

Once we got to radios and TVs we were happier in a little nostalgic haze. (we are the generation who first saw TV on 2 June 1953) but would have appreciated a bit of explanation about the science behind these things.

Next we went down to the basement to enjoy the science of the Home. This are was big on objects though short on scientific explanation. But there!  What's not to like about old clock alarms, hair-dryers, gramophones, TVs and so on.

Highlights were the early sewing machines, and some amazing vacuum cleaners, including one that was pedal operated and one that required a second person walking behind working the bellows.  But we noted that the display had not been updated recently: the only Dyson was a very old and heavy one

 

We saw kettles of all kinds, our favourite being one with a little spirit lamp; washing machines from tub-and-dolly, through washboard to twin tub and beyond; cookers from range to microwave; refrigerators you could customise with a fabric door; strange home medical devices like a belly warmer.

 








We did learn how a CD player works, with lasers rather than a needle, but otherwise explanations were few and far between. It's a splendid collection of objects, but we thought lacked what should surely be the Science Museum's usp:  explaining how things work.

The Red House

Red House Lane,

Bexleyheath

DA6 8JF

Thursday October 26

 2017

Maybe it was being in Redbridge last week which reminded us that we, or at least Jo, had not yet visited the Red House, a house built and designed by Philip Webb and William Morris and lived in by the latter for a mere five years. The actual building – a substantial red brick and tile hung detached house – was completed in a year for the sum of £4000 equivalent to about £474.000 today.

This was the shell and grounds only, as the designer and architect pair were intent on designing and executing the interiors themselves with the help of some friends. That their friends happened to be such famous artists as Edward Burne Jones and Dante Gabriel Rossetti was handy. The house was to be one of ‘work and joy’.

Our photos are a mixture of ‘some prepared earlier’ from a previous visit to the house in rather better weather and the rest today. Morning visits are by guided tour only, though you are then free to wander after 1.30PM. Without flash and given the gloom of the day the interiors are quite hard to capture.

The house is now in very suburban and largely residential Bexleyheath and whereas the view from the house windows today is largely of bungalows and  mid-20^th century developments, in Morris’s day it would have been orchards and fields.  At the time of his moving here the The Big Stink was exercising middle class Londoners and Morris wanted a home as opposed to living above the shop in Red Lion Square.

Webb was starting out on his career of architect to the affluent middle classes and the house looks very large from the outside though on the inside actually has quite few rooms, most of them now barely furnished. Also while many of the rooms are decorated with Morris wallpapers  this would not have been the case  at the time when most rooms would have had either wall hangings – tapestries created by the equally gifted womenfolk – or wall paintings , or ‘art’ as the guide named  it. Because the house was requisitioned during the war (they handed out the ration books) it was generously overpainted with brown coats so it has taken many years and painstaking work to uncover what few paintings remain.

It seems that Morris might have had a great scheme, a bit like ‘Grand Designs’, to portray the Trojan wars but restorers are still unsure ( or I wasn’t paying attention) what was where, whether it was ever finished, and what has been subsequently lost or remains to be discovered. Visible today are borders here and there, and ornamentation round the windows. Many (or all?) of the classical/medieval/mythical people depicted were based on real life people in the Morris circle, including Morris himself and his long time student friend and now collaborator Edward Burne Jones, and their respective wives. While Morris was ace with a pattern he had no great talent as a painter, and it is likely that one of the weekend guests brought in to help with the decoration was the (in)famous Dante Gabriel Rossetti; consequently some of the damsels he painted are clearly his earlier muse Lizzie Siddall. Later of course Rossetti would go off with Jane Morris …

You enter through the graceful Gothic arched porch into the generous hall (sorry, descriptions of houses always tends to descend into ‘estate agent’ speak) where we were told the grand fireplace was one of many designed by Webb, but each slightly different. The brickwork is lovely but sadly the house is really cold and the chimneys did not ‘draw’ that well. The other impressive piece is the green settle with its two Malory inspired cupboard doors.

The room immediately to the right is the dining room, again with fireplace and a heavy oak trestle of the kind would have been in use (another was abutted and led out onto the hall) to accommodate the weekend workers/ visitors. There is another red settle though looking more like a dresser/ sideboard. Morris liked his victuals and he had obviously inherited enough and earned enough to feed everyone.

The stairs up to the first floor are oak, most beautifully carved and finished and our guide thought purposely squeaky to avoid clandestine comings and goings. Or just squeaky.

Once upstairs you are allowed time to admire the painted ceiling, the huge height of which is of course seen in the external complex roof structure. In the second half of the landing the ceiling has been copied/restored. The windows offer views of the lovely gardens which surround the house. 

There are three main rooms upstairs open to the public.  We presume the bathrooms and kitchens were later additions/alterations by the post-war owners, themselves architects for the LCC and who left the house to the National Trust. 

The master bedroom is small and would have been even smaller when it contained the built-in wardrobe part of Webb’s design. Jane Morris covered the walls with hangings based on the daisy pattern wallpaper but apparently this was one of the coldest rooms and even thick serge cloth may not have helped much. The next door room is the studio used originally by Morris and then by later owners. There is the cut wooden block for the pattern ‘marigold’ and the corresponding print on the walls to give you a feeling for the ideas, creativity and processes that went into Morris’ company – he may not have been a great fan of wall paper himself but they remain, along with the matching fabrics, one of the most enduring products of the company… Their presence in the house is largely down to later owner the LCC architect and Morris fan Edward Hollandby .

As you would expect from an artist’s studio the light is wonderful. 

The most spectacular room on this floor is the drawing room, complete with a large (over large?) settle which Webb had built for Red Lion Square and transferred here, adding a musicians’ gallery to the top – though white it does loom a bit. The room has three Burne Jones paintings which were to be part of a larger series – the wedding procession and wedding feast include familiar figures again and it is likely the visitors to the house would have been encouraged to dress up in medieval styles likewise. Since the National Trust took over the house in 2003 they have been able to reveal more and more of the wall paintings and restore where possible.

Back downstairs you exit via another passage with some of the best, and best preserved, pieces of stained glass in the building; charming birds and more of the Morris coat of arms with two beautiful Burne Jones figures which may or may not have started their life in the front door.

The tour finishes in the garden where you are able again to appreciate the exterior lines.

For any fan of William Morris this visit is a must; otherwise you would need to have a special interest in architecture and interior design. In many ways the house still feels like a project rather than a home, or a showcase for some very specific ideas on craft and design.

The garden today could only be described as autumnal with a range of wet seedheads, but when I say it still detained us for nearly half an hour you can see how richly planted it is and how much there is to look at even at the end of the season. It is also very tranquil so to walk back to the station through modern Bexleyheath comes as quite a jolt.