Here's Looking At You

Another great outing with my cousin, which began with a walk along the North bank of the Thames, past the Houses of Parliament (the first time I'd ever really walked so close to them, brushing with my fingers the ugly security barriers (which are now, for better and worse, part of what 'government' means). I thought about photographing the 'Democracy Village' in Parliament Square. But it just seemed (from the outside anyway) too amorphous, like any little sprawl of tents. I am sure there are very committed people involved, and perhaps they have been through several kinds of hell with the authorities. But, to a tourist like myself, what stands out is a sense of irony; there are so many countries where this encampment would be swept, very brutally, under the carpet. No doubt they have had to fight to remain there, but does the fact that they DO remain provide as much propaganda for their protest as it does for British 'democracy'? Rodin's lifesize statue of the Burghers of Calais, just around the corner in Victoria Tower Gardens, seems to me a far more powerful protest, both specifically and about inhumanity in general: art can do that on occasion.

A beautiful evening for a walk anyway. We had intended to get the ferry to Tate Modern, for the Exposed photography exhibition, but the port was closed by this time so we hopped into a cab instead. Tate Modern is a magic venue. Entering and descending the broad, steeply sloping ramp, under cover of that huge industrial dimness (which is also religious of course, a Brobdingnagian belfry without a bell) alerts me that I am entering an inner sanctum, a different kind of theatre. Here is an underworld where the laws of the universe, if not suspended, will be poked at and interrogated; in other words an exciting space to saunter into, whatever's on. The exhibition was fascinating, far too much to talk about in brief. As with any show, I sometimes found the 'everyday' punters as interesting as the works (see above), even though there were many fabulous images, from the early days of surveillance and street photography (including marvelous spy-cameras in watches, canes, etc.) to Cartier-Bresson and through to contemporary images, films, etc., some of them quite disturbing.

Then to the riverside pub nearby for a meal and drinks, watching the riverlife, industrious little tugs, speedboats, the barges (one with thudding dance-music and kitsch lighting racing past at a good clip, so we imagined the crew determined to get the thing over with as soon as pos and head the local and a quieter pint). Here's to London though, the city with something for absolutely everyone.