A Spot of Culture and a Ginormous Bee

We went to London today, for a spot of culture. Andy is worried that I am starting to feel the effects of being house bound on a regular basis so decided a couple of weeks ago that a dose of Scary Capital City would liven me up to the big wide world once more.

'We'll go to the Tate,' he said. 'They've got a Pre-Raphaelite exhibition there. You like the Pre-Raphaelites, don't you?'

I agreed. I am very keen on this group of painters and their work. I studied them as part of my degree. They produced what I call 'proper art.' They were Bohemian and raffish. They were my kind of guys.

I was glad Andy suggested the Tate and not the Tate Modern. The last time we went to the Tate Modern I had recurrent urges as we wandered around to either a) kick the exhibits and /or b) re-arrange the exhibits so they looked like 'proper art,' and not, for example, a pile of bricks covered in elephant dung or a bag of oranges in a cement mixer.

It's a half-an-hour walk along the Embankment from Charing Cross to the Tate. Going through Trafalgar Square we thought we'd have a quick look to see who was doing their hour on the fourth plinth as part of Anthony Gormley's new living art installment. It was a bloke. He was just sitting there, crossed legged. He was doing nothing.

Well, he might have been meditating or communing with the universe on a private level, but as public entertainment goes he was pants. Boring, M & S Y-fronts in white pants.

'If I did a spot on the fourth plinth,' I declared, 'I would do a full performance reading of 'Nearly King Jimbo.'
'I bet you would,' said Andy.
'It would be good publicity,' I said. 'Voices, costumes, I'd even get a tricycle up there so I could impersonate Mr Jobble.'
'And I could stand in the crowd selling copies of the book,' said Andy.
'I wouldn't sit up there crossed-legged doing nothing, that's for sure,' I said.
'Complete waste of time,' agreed Andy.

So off we went to the Tate. We walked past the Houses of Parliament, Big Ben, Downing Street. We saw the Changing of the Guard at Horse Guards Parade. We saw the War Memorial at the Cenotaph. There is an awful lot of British History in that short walk. We had a tricky moment outside Parliament when a hoard of French school children barged en masse along the pavement, scattering pedestrians in their wake.

'I'm not moving over!' shouted Andy.
'Neither am I!' I shouted too, and together we marched side-by-side, holding our patch on the pavement, winning our Waterloo.

The Tate was very good. We spent a very pleasant three hours perusing proper art, and not so proper art. We commented with authority on the not so proper art (because, quite frankly, some of it was pants). The Pre-Raphaelites were excellent. So was Hogarth. Turner was okay, but got a bit iffy as he grew older. We decided that perhaps his eye-sight was maybe starting to deteriorate towards the end of his career, a bit like Monet. I am not going to comment on Gilbert and George, save that I think they were having a laugh at the expense of a group of highly gullible art critics.

We had lunch in the cafe, we perused the gift shop. In the gift shop we saw A FAMOUS PERSON. If you watch 'The I.T Crowd' then you will know who the character of Moss is. If you don't watch 'The I.T Crowd, ' then you won't. But it was he.

'Look!' I hissed excitedly at Andy, cornering him by the art books. 'It's Moss from The I.T Crowd.'
'Oh yes,' said Andy. And he spent the next ten minutes stalking Moss, like he once stalked someone who looked like Terry Wogan at a wedding we went to a few years back.

On our way back to Charing Cross, we popped across Trafalgar Square to have another look at the fourth column and see if the latest person was making a bit more of an effort than the chap we saw in the morning.

And she was! A lady, dressed as a giant bee was talking all about bees. A sign declared she was a member of MENSA. We were much cheered by this sight. This was proper installation art.

So 'Hurrah' for the Giant Bee Lady!

And 'Hurrah' for Art!

And 'Hurrah' for getting out for the day and being newly inspired by a spot of culture!'