Planet Earth is blue

May 14, 2026 Amy OLeave a comment

Our trip to London to take in the Fulham match (and hopefully the Atletico Madrid Champions League semifinal match), was oddly dominated by David Bowie and water. That, and clicking in the Arsenal exchange every spare moment for a ticket to the Atletico match. My husband’s childhood friend was in London at the same time we were, so we also had fun catching up with him.

David Bowie had been a minor character in my teen world. I knew some of his music, most notably Space Oddity, a rock ballad about an astronaut who goes to the moon, but something goes wrong and he floats away, never to return to Earth. That particular song, a line from which I’ve borrowed as the title of this post, was initially released in 1969 but was re-released in the United States in 1972. Other versions have been released since then, but it’s the 1972 version I’m familiar with. Something about that song really captured my imagination. In my interpretation of the song, Major Tom decides not to go back to earth and enacts his ship’s malfunction. Apparently that is not how David Bowie saw it. Major Tom floated hopelessly away in his broken spaceship.

My interpretation is better.

I remember one of my high school classmates declaring “David Bowie is so gross.” I didn’t know enough about him to have an opinion but I had seen pictures of him and knew he did something very few men did at that time: he sometimes wore makeup and clothing more commonly associated with women. I was living in a conservative area of the country, but there is probably no place in the world that despises individuality and demands conformity more than high schools of the 1970s.

I had really loved Queen in high school. Funny now that I think of it that David Bowie would possibly be “gross” but Queen was A-ok. Bowie’s music took a turn that intersected more with my mainstream sensibilities in the early 1980s. I loved the collaboration he did in 1981 with Queen’s Freddie Mercury, Under Pressure. It’s still one of my favorite songs. And later it rubbed me the wrong way that Vanilla Ice’s Ice Ice Baby started with the same musical hook. (I feel more inclined to forgive Vanilla Ice now that Arsenal fans use Ice Ice Baby as the base of a chant to honor Declan Rice. Rice Rice, baby.)

David Bowie exploded into the mainstream with Let’s Dance in the early 1980s. I had moved to Denver after college and was working, but didn’t yet have enough money or income to buy a car. I was carpooling with one of my colleagues every day. He was the first openly gay person I’d ever known and often he would cajole me into accompanying him to one of the gay bars in our neighborhood before he dropped me off at my apartment. So many handsome men. None of them interested in me, other than as a human. It was pretty sweet. Let’s Dance and Modern Love were big hits on the dance floor. I think that’s where I decided it’s always ok to dance alone. And was the start of me thinking everybody just wear what you want. Be who you are. Try out stuff until you’re clear. Even you, David Bowie. (And I think he would say “No shit. That’s what I did.”)

Anyway, that is a long preamble to our visit to the new David Bowie exhibit in London called You’re Not Alone at Lightroom, a “multimedia spectacle” that will “transport visitors into the iconic performances and creative mind and spirit of one of the world’s most visionary and influential artists.” It reminded me of Frameless, the interactive art exhibit we visited when we were last in London.

After a brief introduction to a life timeline for Bowie, you enter a large auditorium-like room, the walls, ceiling, and floor being used to project images, video, artifacts supporting narrative about how and why Bowie created as he did. I guess it’s technically a documentary but creatively delivered and very well done. There’s very little I enjoy more than being immersed in creative process, and David Bowie left behind exceptional records about his work that were the basis of the presentation. And it did include Space Oddity in full, which allowed for some interesting visual effects.

We found that so interesting that we made a point on a different day to head over to V&A East and V&A East Storehouse, new extensions of the Victoria & Albert Museum.

At V&A East we visited fascinating exhibits on “Why we make,” focused on the impulse to create and the process of creation. Not merely creation of art, but furniture, clothing, housing. I have found the Victoria & Albert museum in Kensington to be overwhelming, but the V&A East is very, very manageable and no less interesting. Bonus: it has a patio with a great view of the area where the Olympic stadium is. Which, by the way, is currently the home of West Ham. Arsenal were to be playing West Ham at London Stadium the weekend after we visited. We made sure to walk over and spread our Arsenal cooties all around the ground after visiting the exhibits.

The V&A East Storehouse is a short walk from V&A East. I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s literally a storehouse for objects owned by the Victoria & Albert, but not currently on display in the museum. Except it’s the fanciest Storehouse you’ll ever lay eyes on. It’s a museum-like storehouse. You can walk around and look at the objects, which we did.

You can also visit a special area devoted to David Bowie. The David Bowie Centre is a permanent archive for David Bowie’s possessions that was given to the V&A. It contains a small exhibit that includes some iconic costumes worn by Bowie, objects he owned, and a narrative and artifacts about how some of his music was written (including hand-written starts at several songs, including Space Oddity, which was written almost like a play). It also includes archives of interviews, articles, reviews that are not on display but can be accessed upon request. He must have understood his own importance or he would never have retained all that stuff. And I guess he was right about his importance or the V&A would not now have it. Great exhibit.

Space Oddity tells us “planet earth is blue,” and we understand it’s blue because of the water on its surface. Our visit to London, coincidentally, included several water-related activities. The River Lea lies between the V&A East and London Stadium and there’s a place on the edge where you can rent a swan boat. Along with a bevy of school-aged kids, we decided we needed to do that. We discovered that swan boats are just the right size for me to peddle at 5′ 2″ and completely wrong for my husband at 6′ 2″. After a very short trip down river, we crossed this activity off our list.

On one of the days we were in town there was a boat festival, the IWA Canalway Cavalcade, near something called “Little Venice.” Having seen Bangkok’s version of “Little Venice” in January, I wasn’t expecting much that resembled Venice. Although the one in London did not, in the end, look at all like Venice, it was very charming and fun to see all the houseboats gathered together. There were many vendors and activities for the kids and we enjoyed walking along the canal on a nice day. My husband noticed that you can take a boat from Little Venice over to Camden so we hopped aboard and enjoyed the scenery for the 45-minute ride.

We also did a walking tour of the hidden River Fleet. This is a river that once visibly flowed through early London but became nasty, dirty, stinky and was covered with roads in the 1700s. It’s now, more or less, a sewage canal. Once before we had tried to find the headway for the river, but with construction near it along the Thames it’s impossible to see. But you can “see” and hear it underneath streets in parts of London.

Tourist taking photo of picturesque River Fleet.

We did a few things that have nothing to do with David Bowie or water, but do take place on Planet Earth. We visited the Somerset House for the 2026 SONY World Photography Awards exhibit. The exhibit included entries by amateurs and professionals in various categories, including portraits, landscapes, still life. I have no idea how they picked winners. It was all so good.

We also went over to an event called Sicily Fest. This was in a big hall in Islington, and held a bunch of vendors selling Sicilian food and drinks as well as a very popular Sicilian band. We attended a church service at Southwark Cathedral, home of Hodge the cat, who indeed was wandering around during the service and stopped by to sniff my husband.

And, as always, we found ourselves in a number of Fuller’s pubs. In my favorite experience, on the first day we were there, we really loved the glasses the Sutton Arms served our London Pride in. They had a depiction of the Thames that was very cool. We asked the bartender if it were possible to buy one. He said “Just take one. We have so many. And they always just walk away, especially with people drinking outside.” We were not quite in the sticky fingers frame of mind. While we sipped, ate a very delicious pizza, and watched the world go by through a large, open door, I googled how easy it would be to buy a glass. We found that Amazon could deliver such an item to us in the UK but not in Chicago. We enjoyed our beer in those beautiful glasses and left them behind. Here’s hoping enough will be retained by the London pubs for us to enjoy one again on a future trip.

Devil & God, dirt & light

February 25, 2025 Amy O3 Comments

Breaking our supposed rule never to see a play on the first night we arrive in London, we located reasonably-priced tickets to Thursday’s production of the musical The Devil Wears Prada. It was easy to break because, as evidenced by even events in the dark on the last night of a trip to London, I still seem to be able to sleep through parts of any production.

I am a complete sucker for the movie and cannot resist watching it when it’s available on a streaming service. Meryl Streep is so deliciously bitchy. I could never tire of her delivery of “That is all….” Now, Meryl Steep is of course not in the musical, but add music by Elton John, how can this not be a load of fun?

Well, it was a load of fun. They liberally used much of the movie (which in turn was probably from the book, which I have not read). The actress playing–I’m just going to call it–Meryl Streep’s character (because she OWNED that role) couldn’t begin to match Meryl but she played it her way and it worked. The music was wonderful, the costumes were great, the actors did a wonderful job.

And, yes, I did doze off some. But I’ve watched the movie dozens of time. I could still follow the plot.

On Friday morning we embarked on an excursion to the The Somerset House where there was an exhibit on Soil. Yes, Soil.

It was unbelievably fascinating. Photos of tiny bacteria blown up huge, video of the sights and sounds of roots growing, a mesmerizing video of the development of a mushroom, including ethereal flows of spores. Information on gardening techniques. Stories of human response to plants, flowers, gardens. Every time I tried to hurry along some new narrative or visual captured my attention. Highly, highly recommend this exhibit.

That afternoon we took a long train ride to a different kind of exhibit, God’s Own Junkyard. This is a museum of neon signs, many created by one artist, Chris Bracey, who sadly passed away in in 2014 due to cancer. You can walk through the museum and see the works of neon art displayed and there’s a little coffee shop to sit and enjoy them while relaxing. It is very cool, and very overwhelming.

One thing that became clear to me seeing the Soil exhibit and this one in one day is the power of narrative. The way Soil was exhibited helped you to notice things you might have glossed over. God’s Own Junkyard had every square inch covered with neon signs and art. It was hard to appreciate each one individually.

But perhaps that is the point.

Later that day we went out to Battersea Power Station to view installations for the Light Festival. Battersea Power Station was formerly a literal source of electrical power for London that had been closed down in 1983 and much later converted to a very fancy mall. The light festival was a little, well, little, eight installations from very awesome to kind of ho-hum. But the mall….I am not a shopper but it was beautiful. I especially loved that they retained the old towers from the original building when they built the mall. It’s also full of old equipment from its past as a power station. There is an unbelievable amount of housing development around the mall. One of the reasons I love visiting London is the juxtaposition of old buildings to new, modern ones. This area was all new, but it was all awesome.

Our final tour was to the Brunel Museum, a museum in Southwark on the site of an engineering marvel of a tunnel under the Thames that was built by a father and son team. The tunnel was intended to allow movement of goods from one side of the Thames to another during a time when heavy boat traffic on the Thames made it very difficult to add bridges. The tunnel was started in 1825 and finished in 1843. It was never used to transport goods and initially was more popular as a tourist attraction for pedestrians. It is now used for train travel, ironically, by the London Overground.

You can enter the original shaft and, in the museum, view exhibits and equipment displaying how the tunnel was built and all the challenges the engineers and construction crew faced. Great little museum.

And close by, nice views of the city on a somewhat dreary London day.

Art–to enjoy, eat and ponder

October 2, 2022 Amy O1 Comment

We woke up in London on Saturday morning after a long flight, a nap, a late, delicious lunch and an Old Fashioned at the fabulous Indian restaurant Dishoom, a drenching rain, a cup of tea, and a decent night’s sleep. We found ourselves again at the CitizenM, this time in Shoreditch. Again, not because we love it so much, but hotels were in short supply this weekend at our price point.

In fact, we had to go well above our price point even to stay at the CitizenM. The London Marathon was on Sunday and the supply of hotels had been eaten up by the healthy and driven folk who engage in such things.

As you may recall, Shoreditch is a slightly gritty neighborhood known for its nightlife and street art. I love the street art, but it is hard not to notice a more commercial leaning in the art since the last time we visited this area. It seems that businesses are now hiring artists to paint their exteriors rather than the random artist showing up in the dead of night to make his or her mark. And maybe these new ones are not just normal artists. This morning (now Sunday) I encountered a group of people next to a truck in front of some street art that appeared to be under some renovation. The people were wearing neon work vests with the words “Global Street Art” on them. I can only hope this is a way that the artists among us are able to engage in their life’s work and earn a good living. Something about it felt a little disappointing.

Photo: WholeArsed

Still, I loved looking at all of the street art, even the commercial kind, as we were out and about. This turned out to be quite a lot as the CitizenM in Shoreditch is not really close to the Tube. Every time we turned a corner we saw some new art to enjoy.

I mentioned a good night’s sleep. That was actually only me. My husband arose far too early and spent his time reading the news and researching where we might be able to attain an early-ish breakfast. The match against Tottenham was very early, 12:30 p.m., perhaps to minimize the amount of alcohol to be consumed by fans beforehand. Most of the breakfast to be had nearby was available at 11 a.m., not going to cut it on a day we were determined to be at the stadium early. We ended up selecting the Savoy Kitchen, a lovely but small cafe that started serving breakfast at 8 a.m. The yogurt bowl and porridge were works of art themselves, and hit the spot.

We hopped on a bus to head over to an art installation at the Somerset House courtyard. The installation was created by Portuguese artist Grada Kilomba, and represents the shape of a ship, like those that carried millions of Africans against their will and humanity into Western enslavement.

The memorial was constructed of charred blocks, in which a poem also created by the artist was inscribed in gold, line by line, in some of the blocks.

It was a moving display, made more so by the glistening of the blocks and the shadow cast under the morning sun. The shadow of our history continues to darken our present.