Falcons at Trafalgar Square

Trafalgar Square is a destination point for many tourists in London: big fountain, National Gallery Museum, big lion statues, plenty of people to see and be seen by.  Undoubtedly, hundreds of Facebook profile photos are taken there each day. I am resistant to taking photos of an object or image that is centered in the viewfinder of so many other cameras, I refuse to stand in line to take the identical shot. That's me.

But it meant that Nathan was carrying the camera as we sauntered up to Trafalgar Square one morning. It was early, still a bit chilly, and the square was logy and lethargic. Bypassing the square itself (and the set of stairs), N took the gently inclining outer edge, while I beelined towards the fountain....I thought that I saw something peculiar....

Sure enough, I was right. Have you ever seen the falcons of Trafalgar Square?

Have you ever noticed how few pigeons flock to Trafalgar Square?

Trafalgar Square was once a square like so many around the world: tourists held fistfulls of birdseed, and squealed with nervousness as they were ungulfed in a flock of hungry and well-trained birds. In fact, in 1996, the Trafalgar flock was calculated to be somewhere around 35,000 birds. ewww.

But a few years later, pigeons were banned from the park. Wait, I mean, feeding the pigeons became a banned activity. But the pigeons dispersed rather quickly without their daily snacks. The absence of pigeons in Trafalgar Square allowed for the space to be used in new ways that had previously been impossible: for movies, commercials, and events.  

However, banning the feeding of pigeons is not always enough. Enter the Falcon. A falconer with his trained falcon makes a daily circut through the park, giving a clear message to the stragglers to push on. With leather ties dangling from legs in mid-flight, the falcon swoops around Admiral Nelson, harranging the lazy pigeons, then returns to the heavily protected arm of the falconer.

They are a sweet pair, rather innocuous and humble. In a city that hosts a perpetual and pervasive tourism culture, I was suprised to see the falconer in a simple t-shirt. 

Not my photo: Stephensamuel at en.wikipedia

 No bobby, no flags, no postcards for sale in hand. Just a normal guy with his beautiful falcon, patrolling Trafalgar Square.

If you want to see the Falcon of Trafalgar Square, best arrive early, before the crowds.

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A Grafitti Park grows in Stockwell

Neither Stockwell nor Brixton have historically been viewed by mainstream observers as the fountains of aesthetics.

You do not learn about Brixton at the Academy. however, those of us interested in contemporary art or modern urban history are likely to find ourselves in stranger places. London, to world travelers, may seem tame in its roughest edges. Art, however, is not tame here. Projects are being developed. One which grabbed my eye way the Signal Project.

While Stockwell and Brixton have always been contemporary and artistic in the heaps on aesthetics they shed upon the modern cosmopolitan mind of London, I am not a scholar of English urban history. What I do is blog, blogging, and walking or some combination in between. And when I have time to pause, I pick up the local free papers, the local art papers, or a wifi/internet signal and research what I can turn up.

This blog turned up from the Thursday edition of the Evening Standard on graffiti gardening.

It is a terrific story (which you can link to above). Public art, 'spray can art' or outsider neo-art is what some of us think of as a new revolutionary spirit. It is embraced, disgraceful, misunderstood. It is highly debatable. It is a challenge to get a hold on whether you have read Banksy or prefer to simpy accept mottos. Solo's motto is often painted on the walls of the ball courts of stockwell and Brixton, "Say Something Beautiful or Be Quiet." I have said something similar in my revious blogs on the subject. Graffit can be damaging and offensive without purpose, or without even meaning to not have purpose. It can be venally vain.

It can also be a powerful movement for uplifting rises of power in marginalized communities. It sometimes can say what we have thought but not heard. It can replace and undermine the worlds of consumerism, advertising, and corporations. It is powerful. It cannot be turned off.

Like the arts and sciences this public art incorporates, is incorporated, shares and crosses boundaries with what it means to be human, social, cultural, individual. It can be as simple as the biases we already have, graffiti belongs with rap, breakdance, basketball, being black. It can be as ritzy and accepted by art forums as Banksy's wonderful book Wall and Piece.

London is not so shallow. It is multi-cultural (probably the multicultural capital of Europe).

Solo-one, the hero of our insider article, sees graffiti as feeding young people with positive ideas. "You have to have the heart to do it..." he says, tagging as opposed to art can, bring neighborhoods to the brink of "descending into madness." Art and the ability to pursue the skills of being an artist and perfecting the artistic craft is an agreed upon ethic that crosses generations of street artists whether they are well known or invisible. "If it is good, the walls are better off plain." Solo-One says, "Sacrifice is important. If a piece has only taken 20 minutes I know the artist's heart wasn't in it."

What is the difference really between the honing of artistic craft today and the construction of great murals, mosaics, and other public art pieces of the past?

In today's London, some of the best, most loved contemporary art can be found in the outdoors. Galleries are tucked between forgotten streets and along abandoned industry and rail yards. There are galleries tucked into the vacant spaces (read: parks) in Stockwell Park Estates. This is the domain of Solo-One and his kindred spirits. "This is a safe-place for kids to learn how to paint," he says, and to understand the commitment it takes to be a good writer."

Today we are off to the Meeting of Styles, it is an important part of our trip to London. We will try and guide ourselves to finding a Banksy tour beginning Waterloo underneath the railway arches... that is all we have right now to work with. Art it seems is never far nor hard to find.

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Blackberries and Bicycles

We have traveling by way of so many different modes during this journey around the world: plane, train, tram, bus, funicular, ferry, big rig, rickshaw, tuk-tuk, bicycle, and of course, our own weary feet. But after a rather extravagant week spent in Bretagne, France, we can add rental car to the list. 

Oh, I had forgotten the delights of independence you can find when behind the wheel of your very own car. The power to choose winding scenic roads instead of highways, the joy of a quick u-turn to more closely examine that old, ivy-covered stone chateau, the happiness felt in propping bare feet up on the dash in the bright sunlight streaming through the window, and the luxury of pulling over to stretch/explore/pick roadside blackberries whenever the need arises.

We looked for hitchhikers to pick up.

none.

We navigated a drive from Moncontour to Paris without a road map.

not entirely true. we had a tourist map of bretagne. when we left moncontour after we arrived in normandy we stopped at a supermarket and took photos of the sections of road map we might need. I squinted at these to determine our path.

We talked about places we've been and things we've seen and people we remember.

in bretagne we saw family for the first time in seven months; this sparked lots of conversation the multitude of dear family and friends that we wonder about and look forward to seeing.

I skimmed through radio stations.

the soothing babble of french talk radio was a favorite, followed by "nostalgia" with both french and american classics.

We didn't pay a single toll.

although the drive was eight hours longer, the distance and gas usage was the same. we never took the toll roads and enjoyed the slow country lanes instead, found much cheaper gas further from the interstate, and saw a huge chunk of France.

After visiting the Chartres Cathedral we car camped.

turning down a bumpy, dirt road in the pitch dark left us slightly unsure of exactly where we were. but the stars were bright and the night quiet. we awoke to find ourselves alongside a cornfield, mist rising from the earth in the pre-sunrise glow of dawn.

I was a pretty good navigator and N drove.

that being said, my tiny keychain compass proved to be faulty, I started feeling carsick from trying to read the map from a miniscule digital camera screen, and we both were hyperventilating as we navigated Paris with a photo-copied, blurry map and minutes ticking down for our British Airways flight. we returned the car at terminal 2F and our flight was at 2A. they are not very close together.  I was fibbing my way through an elaborate story about my invisible husband as the flight was being closed...N showed up just as the eyebrows of the ticket agent were about to pop off of her head.

In recent months I have become a huge proponent of public transportation, but I'd sorta forgotten why personal cars are so great. The independence. The power to "choose your own adventure." It is so easy to slip back into the mindset of regarding personal cars as the main (and most viable) mode of transportation. And of course, sometimes they are. My mother couldn't exactly find public transportation to Eugene (40 miles) four days a week. The New Orleans public transportation system includes lovely street cars that oftentimes take longer than walking, and public buses that don't seem to run on an actual schedule, they just rumble by when the mood strikes.

When in a land of functional, efficient, effective public transportation options, it is much easier (and oftentimes much more affordable) to use public systems. We love the bike sharing systems of Paris, London, China, and many other international cities. In fact, it seems that most urban cities of the Western world have bike-share/rent programs. Africa, Thailand, India, and Turkey were without a formalized system, but most likely have informal, community-driven programs that are not discernible to the foreign eye. 

So while we are here, still in the land of viable transportation options, we are off to use them! Though the hazy dream of that cushy Citroen rental car still lingers at the back of my mind, it's time for some sensible shoes and some London tube action!

*****

p.s. we are still sans-computer. no help has arrived. but we are SO grateful to David for the use of his computer while we are in london. be assured that our blog will be patchy until we return to our other laptop in the states (new york in twelve days).

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