Interior design
Jun. 16th, 2024 10:16 pmYesterday's Guardian had a story about a series of photographs of the mantelpieces of creative people. As I type that, I think how sickening it sounds, but the initial photograph was rather jolly. So, even though I usually skip these house-design articles, I read on. It's a personal project, and is quite open about being inspired by the photographer's mother's mantelpiece in the first place, but even so, I was growing irritable about the extent to which these creative people were the friends and family of the photographer. However, now that you have been warned, I did quite enjoy these photographs. In particular, scroll right down almost to the end for Virginia Ironside's show of hands.
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durham_rambler consulted the tide tables, and declared that this morning we should visit the castle: this gave us the longest possible overlap of castle open, causeway closed, and so the best chance of avoiding the crowds. When did Lindisfarne start to be so crowded? There have always been visitors, of course, but I was quite shocked by the crowds we had to negotiate yesterday, driving through the village. Anyway, durham_rambler's strategy worked, and for much of our visit we had the castle to ourselves (and some very discreet staff).
The display in the castle has been radically altered since our last visit. This is not surprising. We were last on the island three years ago, in the aftermath of Covid, and they seem to have been restricting visiting: my diary says "The castle is already fully booked for the week, but we have a slot to visit the priory tomorrow." So the last time we were in the castle must have been in 2018, in the aftermath of major building works, when the interior was mostly bare, but for an art installation. Now the furniture has returned, and as previously represents the period when the castle belonged to Edward Hudson. There is more emphasis on the process by which Edward Lutyens transformed the shell of a Tudor fortress into a holiday cottage like no other, but there is still room to show the results of that transformation. Information boards quote guests, particularly Lytton Strachey, who was not impressed: "Three miles of sand, partly underwater with posts to show the way - rather alarming to the nervous... then an abrupt rock with a building on it". He visited more than once, though, so it must have had some appeal:
In the upper gallery - which I remember as a music room, often full of the cello music played by Madame Suggia, a frequent guest of Hudson's - there is Embodies Cacophonies, a light and sound installation by artist composer Liz Gre. A video downstairs explains something of the background of the piece, which was intriguing: the thing itself less so. Trails of fairy lights heaped up and hanging from the ceiling; gauzy hangings; music triggered by the movement of visitors (perhaps this was one thing which would have worked better if we had not had it to ourselves)...
We left the castle and reached the Ship with five minutes to order our crab sandwiches before they stopped serving lunch. Then home through the rain, pausing only to buy some biscuits, to dry off and make coffee...
durham_rambler consulted the tide tables, and declared that this morning we should visit the castle: this gave us the longest possible overlap of castle open, causeway closed, and so the best chance of avoiding the crowds. When did Lindisfarne start to be so crowded? There have always been visitors, of course, but I was quite shocked by the crowds we had to negotiate yesterday, driving through the village. Anyway, durham_rambler's strategy worked, and for much of our visit we had the castle to ourselves (and some very discreet staff). The display in the castle has been radically altered since our last visit. This is not surprising. We were last on the island three years ago, in the aftermath of Covid, and they seem to have been restricting visiting: my diary says "The castle is already fully booked for the week, but we have a slot to visit the priory tomorrow." So the last time we were in the castle must have been in 2018, in the aftermath of major building works, when the interior was mostly bare, but for an art installation. Now the furniture has returned, and as previously represents the period when the castle belonged to Edward Hudson. There is more emphasis on the process by which Edward Lutyens transformed the shell of a Tudor fortress into a holiday cottage like no other, but there is still room to show the results of that transformation. Information boards quote guests, particularly Lytton Strachey, who was not impressed: "Three miles of sand, partly underwater with posts to show the way - rather alarming to the nervous... then an abrupt rock with a building on it". He visited more than once, though, so it must have had some appeal:
In the upper gallery - which I remember as a music room, often full of the cello music played by Madame Suggia, a frequent guest of Hudson's - there is Embodies Cacophonies, a light and sound installation by artist composer Liz Gre. A video downstairs explains something of the background of the piece, which was intriguing: the thing itself less so. Trails of fairy lights heaped up and hanging from the ceiling; gauzy hangings; music triggered by the movement of visitors (perhaps this was one thing which would have worked better if we had not had it to ourselves)...
We left the castle and reached the Ship with five minutes to order our crab sandwiches before they stopped serving lunch. Then home through the rain, pausing only to buy some biscuits, to dry off and make coffee...
