We went last night to Katya Kabanova at Grange Park Opera, a brilliant production directed by David Alden.  It didn’t seem quite as far as I thought and the theatre – the theatre in the woods – now feels so much more established in its setting in the woods behind West Horsley Place.  It’s a credit to Wasfi Kani and to the remarkable craft skills of its builder Martin Smith of R.J. Smith & Co, who built it at such speed in 2017, a version of La Scala in Surrey:-

We went to an intriguing intervention by Langlands & Bell on the ground floor of an architectural practice called Apt at the northern, Finsbury end of St. John Street.  I thought how nice it was to see works of art in what was essentially a work environment, but in the talk, it was pointed out how many museums are in unconventional environments, including several that Langlands & Bell have worked in – the Soane, Charleston.

One of their first works, preserved as the seat of a chair in the exhibition, was a model of the basement of the National Gallery for the Property Services Agency which maybe gave them a taste for the more surreal histories of museums (or muse ums).

I have been asked to supply an installation shot of the Treehandles.  I did so, but have been puzzling over the optical illusion which it took me a while to work out:-

It has also made me realise, which I already knew, how beautiful the placement of every object was:-

It feels a bit perverse not to mention that there was an election yesterday.  Of course, it already feels as if it was a foregone conclusion – perhaps it was – but there were a few unpredictable aspects of it: the scale of the victory; and what would happen to the other parties, including Reform.

It always felt a touch unpremeditated, as if Sunak had decided on the date without wider consultation only so that his co-workers in 10, Downing Street could go on a flutter in the local betting shop once the date had been decided: a perfect image of the venality and politics of self-interest of recent years.

It will be interesting to see what steps Starmer and Sue Gray take to curb this lack of standards in public life, which they should.

It’s a very beautiful exhibition open tomorrow and Saturday 12 to 6.  Unit 3, 1-7, Ernest Avenue, SE27 0DQ.  Train or bus to West Norwood.  It’s next door to the bus depot.

Hard to locate even with Google.  Look out for the sign which says LONDON SIGNS and then press a square white button on door number 3, which doesn’t look like a door bell but is.

Then, there is a magical white exhibition space:-

It’s set-up day for Romilly’s exhibition in Edmund de Waal’s beautiful workshop/studio in Studio 3, 1-7, Ernest Avenue, West Norwood, SE27 0DQ (it’s an easy walk up the hill from West Norwood station on a line straight from Victoria).

The light in the studio is very beautiful, particularly in the space which is double-height and top-lit, like a sanctuary:-

Open from 12-6 on Friday and Saturday.

En route to Claremont, I stopped at St. George’s, Esher, the small, curiously rustic, old village church, where Thomas Pelham-Holles apparently asked Vanbrugh to install a family pew – not just any old pew, but a private side chapel from which the Duke would have found it hard to see anything except the Vicar in his fine double-decker pulpit.  You might have thought that he could have afforded to build a new church.

The church – charming and very unusual:-

The Newcastle Pew from outside:-

The interior of the church:-

And the Newcastle Pew, very correct in its architecture and so not very obviously Vanbrugh.  Maybe he was becoming more correct in his old age:-

I have been planning to go to Claremont for ages.  What I hadn’t realised is that by far the best of the surviving buildings – Vanbrugh’s brick belvedere – is not actually part of the landscape gardens looked after by the National Trust, but part of the estate of Claremont Fan Court School which now occupies the Capability Brown/Henry Holland house which replaced Vanbrugh’s original palatial mansion after it had been demolished by Lord Clive. So, you can only see it from a distance (the telephoto is deceptive).

Built in 1717, it maybe marks the beginning of Vanbrugh’s half-serious, half-playful medievalism which led him to design Vanbrugh Castle for himself two years later.  It is perhaps not surprising that Jonathan Swift likened Vanbrugh’s design style to a child’s because he uses very simple brick forms in a highly imaginative way.  Swift intended it as an insult, but Vanbrugh may have taken it as a compliment:-