Doing the L.O.P.: January 2012

Today, I continued the L.O.P. in Canonbury. Canonbury for the uninitiated and geographically challenged (yes, that includes me) is in North London and surprised me. Really surprised me. Anyhow, the plan of campaign today was to speak like a military strategist and to meet a small Citysocialising group outside the Estorick Collection of Modern Italian Art at 12pm. I arrived at Canonbury Overground Station, which by Overground standards has a really tiny entrance. The ticket counter is just inside the entrance and lucky travellers offer trinkets of value to the staff in exchange for travel on the metal chariot.

I walked out the station the wrong way. In my world, the wrong way is often the right way but on this occasion, it wasn't. So I redirected my body where it should be going. My first observation about Canonbury was how affluent an area it seemed. Lots of plush residences with pretty families, performing their Sunday dances with prams and other weapons of torture. I also observed the lampposts. Now, I am increasingly fascinated by the variety of lampposts that appear in different regions. What informs their design? Is it determined by the environment they are erected in or by other considerations?

I walked the streets of Canonbury and found Canonbury Square, I initally walked past the Gallery but enjoyed the Square with its trees and fountains. The Pigeons also held a certain appeal for me. Something about the comfort of strangers; living beings to replace the solitude of procrastination. I returned to the Gallery and waited. Whilst, I waited the true horror of non-functioning traffic lights manifested itself to me in the form of a car crash. A four by four vehicle (they should not be allowed in London. Do you see a hill or mountain with rough terrain?) and a car impacted with each other. Fortunately, no injury but it was surreal to hear the sound of crunching metal and then to see the side of a car imploding. My life has become a J.G. Ballard novel and I am not sure how I feel about that yet.

My group, friends and people I met for the first time today arrived and the majority of us went into the Gallery. The minutiae of arrivals is of no interest to you and merely detracts from the Gallery which is really rather wonderful. The exhibitions are housed in a converted Georgian house. It appears that the temporary exhibitions are downstairs and the permanent exhibition is stored on the remaining two floors. The focus is on an eclectic range of Italian modern artists. As such, Futurism peeks out at the viewer and some Cubism etc. The space itself contains benches, which are almost an art form on their own. My abiding memory is of an exchange between a girl and her dad, in which he encourages her to name all of the colours the bench is painted in. I keep hearing 'Green' and also the girls odd way of saying 'brown', which sounded like a combination of brown and black, a sort of 'brack'.

After the Gallery, we went to a pub called The Snooty Fox, which is opposite Canonbury Overground Station. The pub is full of cultural artefacts from the 60s and 70s. Old album covers merge with iconic figures such as the Krays, Christine Keeler and every possible rock star you can think of. The pub has a jukebox that actually plays vinyls from the 60s, but sadly that was out of order. The music playing indistinguishable from the conversation around the pub. The roast dinners were expensive but not bad.

Once the meal was over, we all went our separate ways. Walking with a friend down to Dalston, I remembered a random comment I made in the Gallery expressing how certain paintings and works of art look better, more defined from a distance. In connection with a conversation, we were having about relationships. I wonder sometimes whether some relationships would be better at ten paces. Can intimacy ruin integrity? Fortunately, I strictly deal with friendships at the moment so it's not a concern.