I wonder why I always feel like I’ve had a productive weekend when I go and visit a gallery. This past weekend I spent 2 hours at the Saatchi Gallery and I woke up this Monday morning and felt like I had performed miracles.
There’s something about being a culture vulture that is very fulfilling.
Although there were some works of art I couldn’t understand for the life of me, I held a huge appreciation for others. Richard Wilson’s installation was the most fascinating, both in terms of execution and for the mind. A huge room is filled with oil, which reflects the ceiling and windows in the room, making it look like you can see to the bottom of the floor – which you obviously can’t. It’s just a peaceful reflection, with a disturbing smell of tar. Odd it may sound, but it’s like a true, black mirage.
A photo exhibition celebrating Sunday Times 50th anniversary was also on top of my list. War photos, insect close-ups and Muammar Gaddafi resonated with me all the way to a new café on Fulham Road. There I shook off any art analysis and focused wholeheartedly on their cake selection.
It was the lovely L’s idea to come down southwest, normally she resides in Shoreditch, so I had to show her around. L’Eto Caffe, has recently opened and I thought it’d be a good idea to sit down and enjoy fruit and berry infused tea and a treat. L is the best sharing companion ever and I knew she wouldn’t turn down the apple maple cake. She was actually keen on the truffle cake, but I had eaten that with the Italian the weekend before (a revelation for you: heaven is a truffle cake) so I wanted to try something different.
As we ate people walked past, stopped and came through the doors. You see, L’Eto’s window is filled with the loveliest crafted cakes in all shapes and forms, and it’s impossible not to act like a kid and open your mouth – envisaging a huge bite of the profiteroles or green tea cake (although I’m assuming that would be far too green for them).
We crawled out of the café as the sun nearly set on Fulham Road, and both of us had no thoughts of dinner whatsoever. 2 hours later I was stood in a kitchen making pizza for a party of six, but that’s a completely different story. What can I say, it must’ve been the art that made me so hungry.