1) My late night could not make any difference to my Sunday plans, because I had a 10:00 AM ticket to tour the State Rooms of Buckingham Palace, and of course I wouldn’t miss that. I wrote my pages, breakfasted, dressed, and was in the vicinity of the Palace by 9:15 (one must always allow time on public transportation for delays).
1a) I lingered here and there in front of the palace, noticing how few tourists there were compared to other points in my visit. About 9:45 I moved into the area loosely marked for my timed entry, along with several others. One of the Palace staff checked with us to be aware of pickpockets; “there’s nothing we can do about them outside the Palace.” I thought that was very courteous.
2) Security and entry were managed very efficiently, and soon I was inside Buckingham Palace for the first time. Photographs were not permitted, which was kind of a relief even though I regretted it. The rooms are dazzling (as they are intended to be), and I recognized more than a few of the paintings. In terms of portraits, there’s almost no one before Queen Victoria’s family (which means her grandfather George III and younger) — but really, how many portraits of Uncle Leopold, King of the Belgians, does one household need?
2a) I used the audio guide this time, and I have to admit I found this one very useful.
2b) The tour ended in a room I understood had not been previously included in the tour, the 1844 Room, named for the year in which Queen Victoria received Nicholas I of Russia in it, and reserved for the Royal Family to receive their most distinguished guests. Like all the other rooms, it is Very Beautiful Indeed.
3) That ended the tour very gracefully, as from the 1844 Room tourists are very easily directed outside to what felt like the palace’s back porch. The right half of that was a fairly extensive café, so I got in line, got my tray, and ordered a cappuccino and a slice of Victoria sponge. The place was bustling but not so crowded, screened from the sun by a large white awning, and I was able to sit and jot down some notes very comfortably. I really enjoyed that Victoria sponge.
3a) Further off to the left were two temporary buildings, one with restrooms (thank goodness) and one with a shop. And I did spend some time in the shop, and that’s all I’ll say about that.
3b) The way out led through the gardens, past ponds and weeping willows and away from the palace, with staff discreetly placed to answer questions and make sure (I’m sure) that everyone did, in fact, leave. From there I walked through Grosvenor Gardens, a bow-tie-shaped park, back to the Underground, and thence to my hotel.
4) In the afternoon I supposed I napped, but I also read my cards. Aces both incoming and for the Final Outcome. What sort of opportunities are coming my way? (Writing this two weeks later, I confess I had forgotten about this reading. But the incoming influence was the Ace of Swords, and I think I know now what it meant. 😬)
5) In the evening, back to Spitalfields for something truly amazing, Dennis Severs’ Tour of Dennis Severs’ House, a fantasy house museum created by the late Dennis Severs (rhymes with “beaver,” not “never”) and now lovingly operated by the Spitalfields Historic Buildings Trust. This tour “reimagin[es] the legendary tours Dennis Severs gave when he first opened his house, offer[ng] an unforgettable dramatic performance for an intimate audience of no more than seven.”
5a) The house only opens exactly at the starting time, so we seven random visitors lingered at various points on the street nearby. There’s no sign on the door, either. You must know the house number, or you’re lost. I reassured one young couple that they were in the right place.
5b) The house also can’t accommodate people bringing large things like backpacks, and I was glad I could leave my two small books downstairs in the hall. We were then directed down the stairs to the cellar in near pitch darkness (the house has no electricity and is lit only by candles). I was the first, and I needed to take care on the stairs. In a dark room of wood and plaster and stone, I could barely make out a row of chairs on the far wall. When we were all seated, the door was slammed shut. The program was about to begin.
5c) I honestly and truly do not want to spoil this for you in case you get to go, so I won’t say much about the content of the program. We went upward through the centuries as we went upward through the house, and then back down to the early 20th century on the first floor to conclude. Dennis Severs assembled elaborate tableaux in every room, often out of things with no value at all. In one room the mantel anchored a display of dozens and dozens of pieces of white and blue china. Every room seemed to have a tea table abandoned mid-meal. An actor with commanding eyes brought Severs’s vision to life in the most compelling way. I felt riveted and absorbed into the experience.
5d) We had been advised no photographs, no phones or other devices, and no talking throughout, and that was very wise advice we all obeyed. In these small rooms, any audience member’s behavior would unavoidably affect the experience of everyone else, not to mention the performer’s. Besides, I was so busy paying attention to the program I couldn’t possibly have spent time taking photos.
5e) In the very last room, the actor offered us all a cup of tea as he concluded, and then opened the floor to questions. I am full of admiration for this performer, just . . . just an outstanding job.
5f) Leaving, I thought how interesting it was that my summer abroad was bookended by the remarkable creations of Cole Escola and Dennis Severs. I saw Oh, Mary! the day before I sailed for England, and now I had seen Dennis Severs’ House two days before my flight home.