|Pipers crisps -made in North Lincolnshire|
We are galleried out. A few days in London with Dr Johnson's words ringing in my ears about being tired of life* make no difference for I am tired , just tired. Each Gallery has captive consumers waiting to either get into their timed slot or have a sit down before moving on..
- British MuseumThe Tomb of the Unknown Craftman Grayston Perry-40mins wait , bottle of water, pack of crisps, 30mins afterwards Tea and good chocolate cake
- RoyalAcademy A Bigger Picture David Hockney -30 mins wait Cup of really good coffee
- National Theatre Take a view Photographs of Britain 20mins-waiting for rain to ease- Cup of EXCELLENT coffee
- British Library Royal Manuscripts :The Genius of Illumination 10 minutes waiting for exhibition to Open Cup of very indifferent coffee
Everywhere we went, it seemed very special crisps were sold. I saw Artisan crisps, handcrafted crisps handfried crisps, gluten free crisps, crisps made by the Farmer himself, even crisps fried in a 'tiny factory in deepest Devon. I know it is just the same in Theatres, Stately Homes and all places to access Culture for the masses, and that the prices reflect the carefully chosen and especial consideration of the caterer.I am quite prepared to be done unto when I am tired and in need of a sit down a packet of crisps and a Cup of Caffeine.
What has really taken me aback in my pilgrimage around the Galleries is the marketing around the Exhibitions themselves. Am I growing Old and Cynical, did the Royal Academy have more Hockneyesque things to buy , than astounded us,then bored us with the Monet Exhibition and Hype of the 80s and again in 2010? I never wanted to see another waterlily. I am glad that for once this little cultural backwater that is Filey might be completely untouched by the marketing around David Hockneys wonderful and unforgettable Bigger Picture, until that is some of it comes to Scarborough in November .
*"Why, Sir, you find no man, at all intellectual, who is willing to leave London. No, Sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford."
— Samuel Johnson