To be quite honest, that title is a smidge misleading since most of London is a favorite place for me. Yet having visited it many many times now, I've long ticked off all the classic tourist attractions. I dug the Tower and the British Museum and the Globe and all that. But save for the Globe, which I often return to in my travels, I'm not typically inclined to go see these things again.
They're lovely, but mostly, my trips are to soak in the atmosphere of the place (and tick off the many excellent libraries). One museum I've been meaning to return to, however, is John Soane's House, or John Soane's Museum, as you will.
Located inside a cozy, if unassuming little house in Lincoln's Inn Fields, the John Soane Museum is marketed as a "hidden gem" for London tourists, which I personally count as a great fortune. With free entry and very narrow corridors, I can't imagine what the place would look like if it was on all the "Must-See in London" blogs.
I can't remember exactly how I came to it. Perhaps through social media. When I saw a little town house with an art collection to rival three museums, I immediately knew I had to go there. I loved it, and this weekend, I was fortunate enough to return. It was a little bit before closing time, and the house was still quite cramped, despite the day's unsteady weather.
Where entry to most museum tends to be touristy and sterile, the hallway that leads you into the architect's once-home has a certain Alice in Wonderland energy to it. You are ushered into this little world of enchantment and beautiful things, all kept together for the sake of art.
It's essentially "look at all this cool shit this guy collected". And you go and look and share with strangers in a moment of awe at how damn interesting our world can be sometimes. How beautiful. And perhaps you're someone for whom that happens in most museums, but it doesn't for me, which is perhaps why this place is so special.
Though you're free to roam at will, you're encouraged to start from the basement and work your way up. Here, you can marvel at the simplicity of the old kitchen, or at the haywire assortment of statues, tableaux, columns, and all sorts of random beautiful interesting things. For that's another trait of the museum that I love - there is no "room of X type art" or such. It's a bit hodgepodge, brought together by space. In some corners, you'll have a bunch of weird busts, for instance.
Most of the items in John Soane's have no plaque. They sell a guide, and I believe that explains some of the art you find in there, but I never bought it. I never like guides at museums. I think you either connect with a work of art or you don't.
Look up from the basement and you'll steal a glimpse through the tinted skylight. Then, you'll make your way to the ground floor, where you have a roomy, impressive old library and rooms and hallways crammed with more art. For me, it's close to the meaning of art as I perceive it (at least) - to gather together all these beautiful things, arrange them as your home will allow, and marvel at them as you're passing from the study to the kitchen or whatever.
Art's not supposed to be in museums, I don't think. Not arranged in a way where we just go and stare politely at so-and-so canvas and try to look somber and cultured. That's not really art, I don't think. Which isn't to say museums aren't a tremendous resource, of course. How else would broke ass kids like me go see stunning art from six hundred years ago?
The house also has a little garden, which is blocked from public access unfortunately, but can be guessed through the tinted windows, as it houses some larger pieces. The first floor (I think) becomes a little less exciting as it houses drawings and is more wordy than artsy, if you will. It also houses a lovely sitting room. Spacious, but again unassuming. I think the draw of this place is that it exudes this inane appreciation of art. And that's very real. And, I think, very needed.
I wish I could tell you more about when the house was built, or why or who this John Soane guy was. Alas, I don't work that way. He was an architect who got his hands on a fuckton of art. And he left instructions that it be available for viewing after he died.
For me, that's good enough. :)
