In the afternoon, we went on a pilgrimage to Lingotto, the palace of the automobile in the southern suburbs of Turin, begun in 1916 and opened in 1923. After pizza in a Turkish café, we discovered the great car ramp:
On the roof is the car track:
Built to rival Detroit, it’s not surprising that it was so admired by Le Corbusier and Jim Stirling.
We spent the morning at Stupinigi, one of the grand hunting lodges of the Kings of Savoy designed by Filippo Juvarra in the vicinity of Turin. Since it doesn’t have disabled access, we were condemned to explore the outside:
I woke early to find the rain had cleared, the sun was shining, and the church bells were ringing in all the local villages:
I had a freezing cold swim and went for a brisk walk up to a field where there are boxes of brightly coloured beehives overlooking the mountains:
Today we celebrated the season of our sixtieth birthdays with a banquet in the Castle:
This was the menu card:
We are staying in a converted agricultural building in the grounds of the castle of Bagnolo, south west of Turin.
It was converted by Aimaro Isola, of the firm Gabetti and Isola, who were important to Italian architecture in the 1950s, deeply interested in environmental design, and (at least according to the reference books) friends of Ernesto Rogers. The children are staying in another similar property nearer the castle.
Deadly quiet at lunchtime on Good Friday. A large town square underneath the mountains. Good 1920s war memorial:
Nice church:
We have made a mad dash to Piedmont across the long agricultural lowlands of central France, across the Somme, past the great silhouette of Laon Cathedral seen in the distance from the road, past Rheims, Beaune and Cluny, all places associated with the pilgrimage roads, and then East to the Alps. We’ve followed the route of a journey I first undertook with two schoolfriends in 1971 in an Austin A30, a version of the grand tour. They got annoyed with me because I wanted to go to Autun and Vezelay and they wanted to get drunk.
I have just been to an event organised by ALVA, which represents a weird and wonderful mixture of organisations from the British Museum to Canterbury Cathedral and anything in between which attracts more than a million visitors a year, including the Royal Academy. Bernard Donoghue, its Chief Executive, gave an admirable short speech summing up his experience of the issues of the day in which he said what a great pleasure it was to be holding a conference in an institution (the RA) which treated its friends not just for transactional purposes, but to widen and deepen their enjoyment and participation in the arts. I found this deeply interesting because we have just undertaken a survey which suggests that 83% of our Friends join the scheme for specific benefits and only 17% as a gesture of philanthropic support for the organisation. So the question is: is membership for pure benefits, an essentially commercial transaction? Or is it underpinned by a deeper value system ? As the argot goes, is it about value or values ? I would be grateful for any advice on this question.
I once got into trouble with my family for saying that my favourite part of the day was walking in the morning across St. James’s Park. They thought it sad that a grown man should have so few other pleasures. But I have to confess that I enjoy it still, particularly at this time of year when the air is bright and the shadows long.
I used to always pass a man who I assumed was on his way from Albany to the House of Lords. There are always small groups of tourists taking photographs and runners. As I cross the bridge, I remember a description of Ian Nairn looking east across the lake towards Xanadu.
I’ve just realised that tomorrow is the 250th. anniversary to the day of what Joshua Reynolds called the Turk’s Head Club, others called (at least later in its life) the Literary Club, and was sometimes referred to, at least by Samuel Johnson and his friends, as just the club (although confusingly Reynolds has entries in his pocketbook referring to his attendance at ‘Club’ long before the Turk’s Head Club was established). It was set up by Joshua Reynolds so that his and Samuel Johnson’s close friends could enjoy each others’ company on a regular basis – in fact, every week in an upstairs room on Monday evenings in the Turk’s Head tavern in Gerrard Street, where they were looked after by the publican Charles Swinden. The site of the tavern still exists and is now a Chinese supermarket. So, tomorrow night we should all raise a glass to Samuel Johnson and his friends, who included Oliver Goldsmith and Edmund Burke. Not a bad club, I think.
| Charles | Saumarez | Smith | 
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