10 posts tagged “oxford”
I am watching the Inspector Lewis, Season 1 series from Netflix. Delightfully, it is reminding me of my times in Oxford, although the stories themselves are slow to unfold...
This one has scenes thus far in the Malmaison Hotel, a former prison now luxury hotel.
Also outside the church on High Street, St. Mary's Church, which is nearly directly across from University College where we stay during summers. It is a 13th century church that is the parish church of Oxford; Thomas Cranmer, John Wesley, and C.S. Lewis all made appearances there. It also has a lovely tower to be climbed for a gorgeous view of the city.
Oh, a major character got killed and someone referenced "the Book Depository": Dallas and Oxford come together in an odd moment...
And the Bodleian, and the Ashmolean.
As well as various spots throughout the City itself. Oxford is a most delightful city, despite the tourists. After all, it is a city built around, based upon the idea of a university: the collection and dissemination of knowledge, with all the joys, prejudices, horrors, and revelations of such practices.
Pearl
I missed it! Monday was the one-year anniversary of starting my blog. I was in Paris, focused on that city and my research projects and my writing.
My first entries were about my time in Oxford, my trips to Tolbiac, two delightful museum exhibits I saw that featured red as a power color, my trip to Scotland, and Paris's bird market.
Since then, it has been great fun to write about that grand adventure. Thanks to all my readers for your comments and support. We'll see what the next year brings.
After one year (and a couple of days!), Happy Anniversary to me and my blog and my readers!
Pearl
One Year Ago today I was flying to London, ready to start my Oxford summer semester and my Parisian sabbatical directly after that. Sigh.
It's been a great year, but a long one. Here's a photo from Oxford, of the building at University College where my rooms were.
Given the heat and nasty air here in DFW, I'd rather be there... but then what about the bike?
Pearl
I realized that the last couple of entries have no photos, so for those of you who need pictures (God knows, I do!) here are some from the recent past and present.
The monumental size of Tolbiac, in Paris.
The back garden of the BnF at Richelieu.
A curious butterfly from the gardens in Oxford.
No need to say more.
A morning stroll.
Current screensaver.
Chocolate delights.
One view from Tolbiac's deck.
My tiny studio.
Back home.
Pearl
Before coming on this extended trip, I bought my little point-and-shoot and decided to take pictures. Didn't really get off the ground until Paris, but still...
I did take some pictures in Oxford, and I just found out that one of my shots has been accepted into the Schmap of Oxford, 6th edition. Huh.
Apparently this is an online map to the town and university, including the most fabulous photos of same ever. For the sixth time. Or something like that.
Here's the picture Schmap is including:
Which I originally published on my blog looooooong ago in August.
This is the second of these curious pick-ups over photos that I have received. The first was over one of my photos of the bird market here in Paris, featured in this post, also from August. This photo featured chickens--part of the non-pet fare at the bird market--and was from a group called Now Public in Amsterdam who want to use chickens as an energy source. I know, sounds kind of... well, Dr. Who or Star Treky or something. And they liked my chicken photo: go figure!
I guess this makes me an internationally published photographer. Sweet! And I thought getting my fingers to touch in yoga was brilliant!
Pearl
I had forgotten the pictures I took the day our Oxford troupe went to Blenheim, which is in Woodstock, England, only a few miles north of the university town. It is a trip I've been on four times, now, but these are the first photos I've taken.
Blenheim Castle is the home of the Marlborough family, including the current (11th) Duke and his family. The "house" is a 17th-century manor; it ws originally built with public space and private space, and continues to be so divided. The family live in the private space while the public space is open to the public for tours of this remarkable site.
The house is surrounded by 2100 acres of land, including gardens designed by Capability Brown, that most famous garden designer. Near the house, there are sculpted Italianate or more formal gardens that include an orangerie, a small maze, and multiple levels, fountains, and constructed pools.
The sprawling landscape, however, is a dedicated to that Romantic notion of "wilderness," where the land was re-created to appear even more "interesting" than it originally was.
Blenheim was a gift from Queen Anne to her very loyal servant John Churchill. Churchill, born a commoner, successfully led British troupes against Louis XIV in the War of Spanish Succession. For defeating the French, Churchill was given not only the title of Duke (the highest of nobel ranks) but the amazing land grant that was Blenheim. Churchill built the house there--although his wife wanted a much smaller one--and the original architect was John Vanbrugh. Besides being an architect, Vanbrugh was a successful late Restoration playwright (The Relapse and The Provok'd Wife). He also designed Castle Howard, most famously the site used in the 1980s PBS series of Brideshead Revisited; Castle Howard is another gorgeous house in the English Baroque style.
Winston Churchill, a member of the extended family, was born here. One of the most notable events in the long history of the Churchills was the marriage between the 9th Duke and Consuelo Vanderbilt. Their marriage is one of the less happy fairy tales: he was titled but poor, she was the daughter of Alva, who was apparently determined to see her daughter bring an European title into the family. When Consuelo, only 18 at the time, refused to marry Churchill, her mother locked her in her bedroom for a while. Eventually, her mother won out, Consuelo married Charles Spencer-Churchill in New York, and the duke collected $2million in Vanderbilt stock. Not surprisingly, the marriage was unhappy, and the couple eventually separated, then divorced. At Blenheim, there is a gorgeous John Singer Sargent portrait commemorating the marriage.
Edith Wharton used Consuelo as the model for one of her heroines in The Buccaneers, her unfinished last novel.
The house has excellent bookstores and a cafe: I recommend the ice cream.
Pearl
Links: Blenheim Palace
Another experiment with my little watercolor box, not so successful.
Here is the original photo, again from Oxford's Botanical Gardens.
I am still figuring out backgrounds... obviously. The blue flowers aren't great, but I figured out how to make them happen in a way I liked, not petal by petal. The colors aren't bright enough, but again, more experiments in mixing colors for this one.
Pearl
Here they are, the two final reviews I promised from July's bounty of theatre-going in England.
First, the whole group went to see The Merchant of Venice in Stratford-on-Avon as done by the Royal Shakespeare Company. Since the Swan is being renovated, we were in the Courtyard Theatre, a venue I had never experienced previously. It was, however, perfect: the set-up is like an indoor version of the outdoor theatres of Shakespeare's own time--except square and smaller, with no standing room. But audience on three sides, in three tiers, and very, very close... which gave the performance an intimacy I found helpful.
Shylock was played by Angus Wright, and he was marvelous. I liked that I didn't know him prior to this, because the intimate theatre and the role with a "name" actor would have been too much. He was very, very good, especially in his physical life. The tension of a man who is, in fact, persecuted but has also allowed that persecution to warp him was evident in Wright's every movement: this is a man who knows no peace. He refuses to be a victim, but he has become some kind of monster, albeit one who is intelligent, sensitive, and a better man than his tormentors.
Portia, played by Georgina Rich, and Jack Laskey as Bassanio, were a great couple. She was definitely the better actor, but it was interesting to watch them as a duo onstage. Bassanio's transformation from impulsive boy to mature man was particularly interesting, although the design somehow signaled this via his hair: at first, he had wild, curly hair that stood nearly on end, but as he wooed and won Portia, and then dealt with Antonio's crisis, it was smoothed down, in fact plastered via water or a Brylcreem equivalent to his head. Weird choice... especially in a production with such sophisticated design throughout. A rare misstep.
The overall design was modern, a kind of 1920s/30s combination for the clothing (pre-WWII? hard to say). Men in suits, women in stylish and constructed dresses, all in acid colors: rust, yellow, green, black. The theatricality of the play was given in careful and thus shocking bursts. Portia's caskets were ice-boxes--literally--that rose from the stage floor. When Bassanio guessed the correct one, all three broke open (or, on the ngiht we saw it, two, but it was understood). Portia herself, while the choosing was going on, appeared in a split in the back wall, in a white bridal gown flanked by icicles hanging from the ceiling. I missed the imagery of the icicles, but the visual was great, and the ice boxes effective.
An even more affective choice: at key moments, the front of the onstage balcony, at the rear of the stage giving a second level for performance, would rise about 6 inches, and an entire row of wineglasses appeared, some full of water, some half-full, some nearly empty. Invisible hands played this glass harp, fingertips circling the rims of some glasses causing an eerie set of layered notes. Twice, some of the glasses were filled, suddenly, with red liquid, obviously symbolising the blood being bartered for. Great visual and aural effect.
The stage was red and black, what looked like Chinese laquer. At strategic spots were irregular spreads of what I took to be water, which I thought was about late mopping of the stage. After they didn't dry (aha!) I realized they were meant to be bloodstains, although all the actors ignored them. Sitting in the second gallery over the righthand side of the stage, I had a bird's-eye view of one of the largest; from the floor, I couldn't have seen them.
In the court scene, when judgment is rendered and Antonio must give his flesh, a "table" rose from the stage floor, on which Antonio was laid out, shirtless and ready for Shylock's knife. This allowed Shylock to get over him, suddenly huge and menacing, wiht a very big, very shiny, very sharp knife, ready to cut.... again, great visual for the theatrical moment.
I really liked this production, despite the fact that the first ten to fifteen minutes were wasted by the actors and director. Yes, there is a lot of backstory, but commit to the fact that you've got to get the information to us or we'll be lost, as well as the fact that everyone onstage has a stake in what is being told: this ain't just blah blah blah narrative you can't cut! This is the difference between actors acting and actors judging what they think is good.
Also: it wasn't funny. The comedy of Gobbo: yawn. Again, no one seemed to figure out--to bother to figure out--why this scene and this character are part of the overall event. Sloppy. Shakespeare inserts comedy into tragedy for reasons of structure, timing, and effect: he knows what he is doing, pal, so don't ignore the signs.
And, well, some bad blocking--like during Shylock's most famous speech (should he be upstaged by another character and hidden from audience view in the dark? Uh, I don't think so... even for "powerful" effect). And some weak casting: Antonio, Gobbo, and Jessica, most dreadfully.
Overall: a really inventive reimagining of this story that made me think about Shylock--as well as Antonio and the othr citizens of Venice--in new ways. Without a lot of compromise, it was intelligent and theatrical.
In a very different way, King Lear at Shakespeare's Globe Theatre in London was also delightful. Only about half the group saw this one, and most liked the RSC production better. I suspect that was about the sound: it was as always difficult to hear everyone's dialogue in this outdoor theatre.
This was a traditional Lear: Dominic Dromgoole played Lear, and the production wound itself around him beautifully, in a series of costumes and set pieces straight out of Elizabethan London. Dromgoole, on the night we saw him, was alternately loud and medium-loud in his speeches, which let a lot of the significant parts drift away on the wind. Trystan Gravelle as Edgar was quite good, as was Paul Copley as Kent and Danny Lee Wynter as the Fool.
Not a brilliant or surprising production, the performance was solid. I can say little more about it, other than the eye-gouging of Gloucester was one of the best I have seen. I dwell on this gory moment, because it is a key to whether the actors and director are doing theatre or some reverent homage to the playwright. The less bloody, the less center-stage this moment is, the more the play is about revering Shakespeare and the less about understanding his skill as an artist of the theatre. It is a horrifying moment: Cornwall and Regan--giving free rein--allow the monsters within them full rein: it is a devastating look as power run amok and the horror that one human being (apparently civilized) can inflict on someone helpless, simply because they can... To shy away from that is to shy away from everything Shakespeare is.
So I like my Shakespeare gory and awfully visual, as a reminder. And this one was, satisfyingly so.
Pearl
Links: King Lear at The Globe, London; The Merchant of Venice at RSC, Stratford-on-Avon
I have been stuck in the studio waiting on a FedEx package for the last two days... I am getting a little snappy.
Good news: being stuck here makes for lots of writing (vs. archive) time. With several deadlines pending, I am happy about that.
Bad news: nothing to post about Paris.
As a result, I will simply post some pictures I took during my last week in Oxford, at the Botanical Gardens of Magdalen College. As seems to be my usual practice, I went on a rainy day, but the gardens are spectacular nonetheless. South of High Street and just west of Magdalen Bridge, the roses are visible from the street--and quite beautiful. Seeing the roses is free, and great is you only have a little bit of time (30 minutes or less). But if you have an hour or two and are just knackered from walking, tourist-babble, and hard, gray pavements, pass through the kiosk-shop of the Botanical Gardens, pay the tiny fee, and step into the rear gardens. They run along the Isis (Thames) and lead far back from the busy street. It is quiet and peaceful here, apart from the hard-working garden staff. At the end of July, everything was in full bloom, and I think my pictures turned out pretty well.
You can see that this garden is beautifully cared for. Not here are the greenhouses that include carnivorous plants (all very spiky and eerie) and plants that need some protection from the British mid-lands climate. There are also ponds and fountains with their own water-plants, there are trees and lawns, and everywhere there are benches to sit and simply enjoy the gorgeous view.
But there's more! If you visit the link below for the garden, you can find times/days of opening, the history of the garden, and much more information. If you are interested in seeing the rest of my pictures, visit my Flickr page. Visit and enjoy!
Pearl
I know I said I was writing about Paris, but until a week ago I was in Oxford, England, teaching a summer class in a program from My U. I have done this several times before, but every July I spend in Oxford is fantastic. Not only because of my colleagues and the students, but because of the college itself. We live and teach at University College, which is on the High Street. It is the oldest of Oxford's colleges, having been founded in the 13th century (this is a bit controversial, but I won't go into that here). The great news is that the architecture is not medieval but from the 17th century, to my eyes a much more beautiful style of architecture.
This the main quad. On the left is the Chapel, and the Hall on the right, windows obscured. The Chapel dates from 1640 and boasts some of the most beautiful painted glass windows anywhere; the windows were commissioned by the Dutch painter Abraham von Linge and are intact from their original insertion in 1666. The Hall is where we eat three meals daily and take High Table twice weekly. I teach in a small room over the Hall, which gets quite noisy and stuffy with all the building going on (you can't see any of that in these pictures, but trust me).
Univ is beautiful--in case you can't tell from my pictures. One of the wealthiest of Oxford's colleges, it is maintained with care and tradition. What we might mourn in the plumbing or lack of air conditioning, is more than made up for in the landscaping (of course, I have my own shower and toilet, and don't share either with three other people, so easy for me...). The grassy plots are beautifully bordered with flowers, and the lower windows all have windows boxes. Everything was blooming brilliantly during all of July--in fact, it almost seemed too lush, because they had to cut the wisteria back twice while we were there. Here is one of the window boxes in the main quad: you can see how "blooming" everything is.
The second, smaller quad, Radcliffe Quad, is where my rooms are, under the wisteria vine. It was built in the 18th century, but matches the main quad in style.
Oxford, unlike Texas, is a delightful place to be in July, weather-wise. The location of Univ, too, is superb: it is close to the Bodleian Library, close to the Botanical Gardens at Magdelan College and punting on the Isis (the name for the Thames River as it goes thru Oxford), and, for our students, close to pubs like the Bear, the Wheatsheaf, and the Turl, while Ahmed's snack cart stands just outside the main doors every night.
I plan to share more about our trips throughout the summer program to places like Kelmscott Manor, Stonehenge, and London. I'll also talk about some of the theatre productions I saw while in England: ON THE ROCKS by Amy Rosenthal, HER NAKED SKIN by Rebecca Lenkiewicz, KING LEAR at Shakespeare's Globe Theatre and THE MERCHANT OF VENICE at the RSC, and SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER by Goldsmith, in a charming production by the Oxford University Dramatic Society.
Pearl
