Today we visited the favorite residence of King Henry VIII. We didn't finish it, but that's ok, because we bought this membership to the Royal Palaces. I don't know if any of my readers will ever visit London, but if you're to be here for any length of time, I highly suggest buying one. A joint membership for two adults costs sixty-three pounds, so about thirty-one per person. It costs about fifteen pounds to get into each palace, and the membership comes with a free audio tour at each place and free guidebooks and a ten percent discount on all merchandise. After two visits, it pays for itself. Included in this membership is the Tower of London, which everybody should go to, and four other palaces. It's clearly worth it.
Hampton Court, as I said, was Henry VIII's favorite residence. His apartments are maintained as they were in the Tudor days, down to original portraits and tapestries. To make things interesting for the kids, they do several things. This includes cooking demonstrations where they use Tudor methods in the kitchens (which are the oldest working kitchens in England), velvet cloaks for guests to wear (and duh I wore one), several family tours, where you go about looking at where the royal children would have stayed and played, recreations of Tudor games and activities, and, perhaps most notably, they have Tudor reenactors- the King, Queen Kateryn Parr, the Duke and Duchess of Northumberland, one of the ladies who kept Prince Edward's household, and possibly others that we didn't meet. They're really quite good- they never break character, not even when goofy guests stand in front of King Henry's painting and pose like him. Even if they find it hilarious. Which the Duchess clearly did. These characters give demonstrations of court life and behavior every couple of hours. I tell you this so you understand a) why I have pictures of people in Tudor dress and b) why I'm wearing a velvet cloak in some of these pictures.
I have no regrets.
The view of the palace coming over the bridge.
Me and Kelly.
(In case you're wondering, I go most places with Kelly because, besides being awesome and a whole lot of fun and interested in many of the same attractions I am, is the other holder of my joint membership.
The palace gates.
A view of the front of the palace.
Heraldic beasts.
King Henry VIII was really into non-standard heralds. His supporters were a red dragon and a greyhound, not the standard two lions or lion-and-unicorn that most English kings tended to use. These are Victorian imitations of the original statues.
Greyhound. He inherited this supporter from his mother. There was no explanation for that goat, though.
I told you. Cloaks. Me looking ridiculous with the audio guide around my neck.
I... think I was channeling Batman or Darkwing Duck or something.
Inside the Base Court, the largest and frontmost of the courtyards.
I'm sorry about the noise on some of these videos. I had my audio guide on while I was filming, and you might hear them. The narrator for the Tudor section of the palace was pretending to be Sir Thomas More. In fact, they were actually showing clips from A Man for All Seasons in part of the palace as an orientation for people who didn't know who Thomas More was.
Here's some of the historical reenactors.
This lady was the keeper of Prince Edward's household.
The Duke of Northumberland.
King Henry VIII
Cheesy? A little. But ultimately, fun and really pretty informative. They had their acts down quite well.
More stuff from the great hall, including Tudor antler mounts.
Tapestries in the Great Watching Chamber.
There were a lot of rooms that are nothing like rooms we use today. For example, this room was what's known as a Watching Chamber. It was where people could, uh, watch the king as he walked from his bedroom to his council chamber. While they were waiting, they could play draughts or Nine Man's Morris.
Part of the tapestry in the watching chamber. They never really explained the ladies with swords.
I kinda liked this little scene. Battle-crazed lady with a big sword next to a guy with long hair and a musical instrument.
I might look scowly, but really, I'm trying not to crack up. The Duchess of Northumberland was also trying to not crack up.
One of Henry VIII's heraldic statues, like the ones outside. This one and its mate are originals.
After this, we went down to the Tudor kitchens. They are preserved mostly just as they were before. Henry VII had two whole rooms devoted to pies.
And one devoted to peacocks.
England is always prepared for a vampire attack. ALWAYS.
This is as much recognition as Wales will ever get.
This is a fireplace for roasting whole oxen.
Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention puh-lease?
Are your nostrils a-quiver and tingling as well at the delicate, luscious, ambrosial smell?
Yes, they are I can tell
Well, ladies and gentlemen, that aroma enriching the breeze
Is like nothing compared to its succulent source as the gourmets among you will tell you of course.
Ladies and gentlemen you can't imagine the rapture in store
Just inside of this door!
I actually understood what was being cut up in the butchery. For those following along, this is the second time since I've been here that my anthro project has come in handy. Also, for the record, the stew isn't real. They do have real stew-making places elsewhere. This one was just scented of beef and sounding of bubbles.
Hampton Court has several areas of palace to explore. You can see the Tudor stuff, Georgian apartments, and the private apartments of William and Mary (like the university). These are in Mary's private apartments. In the 18th century, orientalism was very popular. Trade with China and Japan had just opened up, and having Chinese pottery was the thing to do. Why they put it in the fireplaces, though... You got me on that 'un.
The next room was a dining room. It was very clear which side of the table the favored guests got put on.
This big painting of Jesus was on one side of the room, accompanied by other biblical scenes.
This painting of dogs killing a boar was on the other side...
Next to naked ladies! This was the least naked of them.
This was one of Queen Mary II's reception thrones.
And this was one of her beds. One of her beds.
My bed at home is creaky and small. This woman had multiple beds like this. Life... life is not fair. We then moved on from William and Mary and on to George II and Caroline.
This guy probably isn't important to any of you. But this is Robert Walpole, Earl of Orford, and he is literally the granddaddy of gothic literature, and by extent, horror. His son, Horace Walpole, wrote the first book that could be considered gothic, The Castle of Otranto, and started the trend of Gothic architecture in private residences. So, yeah. Nerd moment there.
I think more than anything else, the picture that I took of the portrait of Robert Walpole illustrates my philosophy about what I take pictures of. It's typically stuff that's important to me on some weird, personal level rather than the sweeping panoramas or monuments. (Though I take a lot of pictures of those as well.)
Queen Caroline's private drawing room.
Fun fact: Did you know that the term "drawing room" comes from "withdrawing room"? It wasn't like a reception parlor- it was where you went to be alone.
And a closeup on that beeee-autiful tea service.
NOT. FAIR.
Also, see that pan there? That's called a bed warmer. That's what they used if they had cold feet. They'd put hot coals in it and put it under their covers.
More of that orientalism.
This is a video of the inside of a closet.
The Fountain Court. Guess how it got its name.
This is the clock in the Clock Court. It's really cool- it's also a calendar and a zodiac.
Oh yeah, apparently we were in Surrey the whole time? Who knew!
I'll be posting about Hampton Court again in the spring. We're going to go back to see the gardens when they are in bloom. Should be a good time.
London seems to have a real handle on their graffiti problem. You actually don't see too much of it, at least on the busy main roads. Many buildings have pretty active graffiti removal teams. You can see them on the streets, in front of pubs, theatres, and empty shopfronts, scrubbing away with this bleachy mixture that smells of synthetic lemons.
I've seen this face around a few places, usually on plywood or dumpsters. He never sticks around for long.
Urban graffiti is typically of a transient, temporary nature. It's painted or scratched and seen as blight. The penalty for graffiti in the United Kingdom can be pretty intense- one kid got handed a £2000 fine and 240 hours of community service. But is graffiti always a bad thing?
This, for instance, is a lunar calendar carved into a wall at the Tower of London by a man who was accused of sorcery and held there for several years. It is technically considered graffiti, yet it's preserved as artwork of great historical significance.
These pieces are from the Colosseum. I took them when we went to Rome the summer before I went to college. Colosseum graffiti holds a particular poignancy- it was typically carved by gladiators or their admirers. Often, they would scratch these words before going into the arena, not knowing if they'd come out alive.
Of course, many of these were also advertisements for prostitutes, so take your poignancy where you can find it.
The graffiti in the Tower of London, too, holds a certain sentimentalism and darkness as well. Clearly, it was all carved by prisoners, many who knew that they'd never leave the Tower, save for going to the Hill to die. As can be expected, a lot of it is fairly morbid.
These are all examples of graffiti found in the same cell at the Tower, often reused. They contain names, religious symbols, and representations of death. Other motifs, such as family crests and lists of names of loved ones are also found amongst the Tower's graffiti. Many of these are behind plexiglass, yet we know that they were considered a nuisance by the people who maintained the Tower. Some examples are chiseled off or covered over. But these images are ornate. Some of them have enough meaning to be considered art, really. While urban graffiti might be an eyesore, perhaps we should at least reconsider our estimation of its value. Graffiti can tell us an unbelievable amount about the culture that produced it. It's not a product of high art (though Banksy might be a modern exception)- it's a product of the common people, not of the artistic elite. For that reason alone, we should consider it as something more than juvenile delinquency.
The view crossing Westminster Bridge a half-hour before sunset.
I have a hard time with abbeys. On one hand, they're majestic, gorgeous, beautiful buildings.
On the other hand, friggin' Brian Jacques has ruined me for life. It's a kneejerk reaction. You say abbey, I say mice and squirrels.
The rodent gargoyles everywhere didn't help.
I went to Westminster Abbey the other night to go to Evensong. It's a nearly etherial church service, especially the way they do it there. It's very... it really is otherworldly. They sing the late medieval plainsong and the voices seem to float. We were lucky and got to sit in what's called the quire. It's where the choir sits.
I had a lot of pictures I wanted to take. Unfortunately, they wouldn't let me take pictures in the main space of the abbey. It was ok to take them in the chapterhouse and in the museum and in the cloisters, but not in the abbey proper. I did manage to get a couple of contraband pictures, thanks to the beauty that is the video camera I got for Christmas. It's glorious. It's terrifically easy to use, it has a wonderfully fast shutter speed, and it's silent. You can whip it out, steal a picture, and put it back in your pocket or bag before the scurrying little security guards realize what you've done.
Me in the cloisters, with the Abbey Green behind me. Kelly took this.
What a pretty tower!
The medieval chambers were definitely open for pictures, as was their museum. So here's some medieval architecture for those who like it. The chapterhouse in particular was very cool. A chapterhouse is basically a meeting room attached to a church. The one at Westminster is entirely medieval, with glorious floor tiles and murals. The stained glass is modern, though, because most of it was destroyed in the Blitz.
This is the Pyxis Chamber. They kept hosts and stuff in here.
Edmond Halley's memorial (he was buried in the floor). It's not just a comet- it's in the shape of the comet-thing that appears on the Bayeux Tapestry. Pretty nifty.
What's left of Captain Cook is buried in the wall here.
The stairs leading up to the chapterhouse.
The stained glass windows in the Chapterhouse.
A better shot of the stained glass windows.
Part of the medieval mural on the wall. All of the animals are labeled with things like "Krokodyle" and "Kamel".
This is a video I made. There's no narration- it's just as much of the chapterhouse's ceiling and walls as I could get. I'm very sorry for the sheer number of times I say 'medieval' in this piece. And also 'chapterhouse.' (I think 'chapterhouse' is a better word than 'medieval'.) But it's pretty cool to see all this stuff. The Abbey was started in 960, and some of the stuff even dates from then.
This is one of the remaining pieces of medieval stained glass.
This is the medieval altarpiece. They made a duplicate of it a few hundred years ago to use in the Abbey's main church.
The opposite side of the quire.
The church from my seat. It's beautiful in the lamplight.
So that's all my photographs of Westminster Abbey. Perhaps more work stuff later? Or a post about the rambling walks I take? Or some graffiti? Something edutaining.
