Herron travelogue: Spring break abroad in London

Wednesday, April 11, 2018

Guided by Associate Professor Danielle Riede and Gallery Director Max Weintraub, Herron students Matt Panfil (M.F.A. Visual Art) and Shelby Pendleton (B.F.A. Painting) spent their spring break studying abroad in London, England with 15 other students.

Here, they chronicle their week exploring all that London and the surrounding area has to offer, including museums, galleries, and historical sites.

March 10, 2018 – By Matt Panfil

Ushered into London appropriately enough by mysterious grey banks of fog that sifted apart to reveal verdant, rain-soaked valleys below; primeval patches of thickets and forestry ridging; picturesque domiciles; and rows of apartment complexes as our jet circled and descended like a hungry gull towards Heathrow. On the Tube to Russell Square I watched a lovely French mother point out commonplace objects to her adorable toddler, who spoke more French than I ever will and stared at me with a fathomless child's curiosity.

I was headed towards the hostel, listening to "The Ballad of John and Yoko" on my iPod and dancing like a loon when, lo and behold, I ran into the group walking in the opposite direction. We went to grab some Indian food (in high supply courtesy of British imperialism), then headed back to the hostel for check-in.

Next, in sleepless reverie, we visited the British Museum, a sprawling ensemble of microcosms of conquered civilizations, all piteously diluted to remnants, stolen artifacts. Transported, I walked through temple halls emblazoned with monstrous visages of winged Sumerian gods, and demons and centaurs breathing through aged and crumbling stone, draped in shadow, staring down at us with blind judging eyes, lifeless yet eternally alive.

Encased in glass were the usual relics and weaponry and delicate art objects, exposed and confined, far from home geographically and temporally — orphans out of history. Even the Rosetta Stone, huge and monolithic, bore no given translation. I hadn't slept at all – not a wink – so there was an almost hallucinatory effect to all these ancient, hulking forms and bronze-eyed deities, as if daring you to glean their secrets.

Afterwards, we dined at a quintessentially British tavern where rowdy lads were free and gaily cheering on a rugby match on television. I barely slept that night, too jet-lagged and jostled by the usual hostel vibrations bouncing through the halls outside our dorm of global kids mingling in a metropolitan way station that never sleeps.

March 11, 2018 – By Shelby Pendleton

"Wakey, wakey. Eggs and bakey," was the message sent via GroupMe by Max Weintraub, one of our faculty leaders, to get us downstairs for breakfast. (Max was great at getting us all in order and moving every day, and keeping us well caffeinated and engaged.) Each day at breakfast, we began with students' presentations to prepare for a specific work in a museum that we would be visiting that day. Then, we were off.

We started by taking the group's first ride through the Tube to the National Portrait Gallery, which was a fun experience with a lot of laughs. The National Portrait Gallery is full of portraits dating back to the Egyptian times and going as current as today. It is full of everyone who is anyone, from royalty to poets and scientists to musicians. So naturally, I took selfies with Paul McCartney, Princess Kate, and Queen Elizabeth.

After a quick bite to eat, we regrouped at the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square to explore one of the most comprehensive museums in the world.

There are paintings inside by nearly every master in every movement, leading into the contemporary time period. As an art lover, art history minor, and artist, I fell in love literally every two seconds. The feeling was almost too overwhelming to be honest. Sometimes, I had to sit in awe on the provided benches because it just did not seem real.

It was so great to experience this with my classmates, who share in my wonderment and excitement. I even discovered some rarities that I had no idea existed before, and got to study works up close and take detailed notes and pictures for further reference.

Gunthorpe Street, formerly George Yard during the time of Jack the Ripper. Matt Panfil

After all the excitement, we needed to unwind. I went with my friend, Dane [who was also on the trip] to Camden Town and got a bit of sightseeing and shopping in. We then met up with the group in Spitalfields for an evening "Jack the Ripper" tour.

March 12, 2018 – By Matt Panfil

In the morning, we headed straight for the Tate Britain, where time's river swam along marble archways and vaulted chambers in streaming revelry. I stared in wonder into the floral depths of Sir John Everett Millais's "Ophelia," which I fell in love with as a sixth grader. In person, it was just as ethereal and tranquil as I'd dreamed — an Arcadian vision of serene death. He painted scenes of pure romance you could linger within, sensually luminous.

My other striking experience in the Take Britain occurred upstairs in a private exhibition of William Blake, a visionary weirdo who drew apocalyptic demons and bizarre creatures. Blake was a notorious iconoclast and I loved reading the backstories behind his curious subjects, especially regarding a vision he had of a demon who told him that all bloodthirsty men were reincarnated as fleas, resulting in a painting of one such flea demon, all hairy and brown and filth-encrusted like some simian ghoul that haunts children's bedrooms.

From there we split off into groups and I headed to the British Library, which houses a trove of literary treasures including ninth century Japanese woodblock prints, the Magna Carta with all its infinitesimal memoranda, and a legendary Guttenberg Bible – the production of which took three printers three months to produce three hundred copies, before which the printing press would've taken three scribes their entire lives to produce the same amount.

I was moved by the delicate beauty of the hand-painted, illuminated fourteenth-century manuscripts; the ornately bound sutras, codices, and Books of Hours; vivid inks and gold-leafed curlicue letters preserved on immaculately cleaned parchment. (According to the long-haired macabre library attendee, even humans were used in parchment-making and only the skins of criminals were utilized.) King George III might've been mad, but his own personal library was a wonder to behold in the center of the museum: a massive, steel-beamed cuboid tower of preserved old books, sealed off like a monument.

March 13, 2018 –By Shelby Pendleton

Tuesday morning, we set off across Millennium Bridge and stopped for several pictures with Tower Bridge in the background, then went on to the Tate Modern. Tate Modern is a huge museum with multiple galleries that showcase rotating featured contemporary artists. The works start at around 1880 with Impressionism and go onward. Honestly, I just had fun watching everyone playing on the huge swing sets in the bottom floor atrium. There was also a huge pendulum and it was so awe-inspiring to the visiting groups of children. I loved seeing the looks on their faces.

Danielle Riede (left) with Herron students on the Millennium Bridge. Shelby Pendleton

I saw a lot of art inside that I liked and a lot that I am tired of seeing. Sometimes with modern and contemporary museums it gets very predictable, and you just know that you are going to see a particular set of works. It's like a starter set for museums and it gets very tired. That was how I felt in the museum. I expected more from the Tate Modern, but it hasn't evolved in the last fifteen-plus years since I last visited and that was disappointing.

After this, Dane and I went for some great Greek food next to the Globe Theatre. We then met up with the group and trekked back over the Thames River to St. Paul's Cathedral, but were too late to get in for the day. So, I decided to go back to the hostel and finally do some laundry. After being in London for a week, it was definitely necessary.

March 14, 2018 –By Matt Panfil

The Victoria and Albert Museum (V&A) – where to start? The V&A was a heady Victorian orgasm of splendor, a labyrinthine symphony of empires and epochs meticulously organized and intended to be intimately explored, saturating the soul with the distilled beauty and immensity of mankind. I became quickly, wonderfully lost somewhere between the East Asia and Raphael and Byzantine galleries.

Henry VIII's great seven-foot-tall statues of gryphons and fish heralded from shadowed alcoves, suits of armor hung like empty exoskeletons staring stupidly beside paintings of long-dead royalty. I donned hoop skirts and corsets and long Sherlock Holmes coats, built tiny crystal palaces, and passed beneath archways into alcoves that I thought might lead to exits yet impossibly opened into new exhibitions and hidden hallways like an endless mansion. In the V&A, history not only comes alive but devours you so completely, you nearly forget from which dull plastic throw-away century you emerged. What a vast and glorious palace!

March 15, 2018 – By Shelby Pendleton

On Thursday, we all went to Paddington Station and took a train to Oxford. OXFORD!!! As a Harry Potter fan, everywhere I looked I saw what J.K. Rowling saw. It was so wonderful to see things through her eyes and understand her inspiration firsthand. The town's gorgeous buildings, the downspouts that come out of the mouth of a tiger, and the actual places they used to shoot the movie. It was so lovely and gorgeous.

We visited the Oxford University Museum of Natural History, the Bodleian Libraries, the Oxford Covered Market, Trinity College Library, and the Museum of the History of Science. And we saw the most amazing things. There is so much more of Oxford I would love to see. I am definitely coming back.

Max Weintraub (left) in the Bodleian Libraries, one of the oldest libraries in Europe. Matt Panfil

March 16, 2018 – By Matt Panfil

The Street Art Tour today was pretty chill and it was neat to see a Banksy piece up close, even if he has been fetishized to death. I was amazed by the Mark Dion exhibition at Whitechapel, later that afternoon. I'd heard his name but never seen his work and was immediately struck by the thematic similarities to my own explorations: immersive installations dealing with man's insignificance to the natural world, and the ominous implications of the Anthropocene.

I loved Dion's taxonomical cabinet filled with excavated modern detritus, rotted flip-flops, and rubber bouncy balls beside 19th century ceramic tiling and animal bones – the debris of modern man collected to be examined, perhaps by curious extraterrestrial archaeologists in the distant future.

Dion's work is deeply inspired and I was affected strongly by the core ethos of a depersonalized man at the mouth of all-consuming Nature.

March 17, 2018 – By Shelby Pendleton

Saturday was our free day, and Dane and I had been talking about what we wanted to do all week. Originally, everyone else was making day trips and we were just about the only ones staying in London. But it turned out that most people stayed, too, so we were joined by a fun group that grew as the day progressed.

We started at the British Library. Here, I saw a Gutenberg Bible, Paul McCartney's original lyrics on an envelope, original scores written by Beethoven, Albrecht Dürer's sketchbooks, Oscar Wilde's journal, and so much more. It was moving. I could not stop crying.

Next, we moved on to Westminster Abbey. I thought I knew things about the Abbey, but I learned so much using their handheld audio tour. I did not realize the sheer volume of people entombed in the Abbey. I cried again when I saw Mary, Queen of Scots. I have always loved her story, as did my grandpa with whom I was very close. I loved this so much. Plus, Lewis Carrol's marker, not to mention seeing the Cosmati Pavement and the Coronation Throne.

When we left, we were freezing but we needed to get to St. Paul's Cathedral before it closed. It was our last chance and I am so glad we made it there. It was a lifetime dream come true. I've wanted to go there since I was a child watching Mary Poppins, and the last time I was in London it was closed due to construction and the Queen's Golden Jubilee.

Looking up at the ceiling of St. Paul's Cathedral. Matt Panfil

It was more than I had hoped for. The ceiling mosaics are laid in such a way that they glitter, though they're not gilded. The cruciform laid out by Sir Christopher Wren, the architect, is unobstructed from the inside and it is flawless. After I was done drooling over the interior, I realized there was more to see downstairs.

We met up with everyone in the crypt where I paid a unique tribute to John Everett Millais for his masterpiece "Ophelia," and we all had some fun catching up together. Kevin, Dane, and I stayed in the area afterwards for coffee, then headed back to the hostel and met up with others from our group for dinner. Then, we got packed and ready to leave for home and hung out some more, sad that it was time to leave London.