Crossing La Manche aka the English Channel
Katherine at Blackwells, Oxford with the book on Oxford that she illustrated
Bienvenue and welcome back to Musée Musings, your idiosyncratic guide to Paris and art. Before I tell you about my week in Oxford, I am feeling bad because I didn’t tell you how sophisticated the two mysteries my book club just read, are. One example, both books included a reference to a gown designed by the Spanish fashion designer, Mariano Fortuny, which all the elegant women in Proust’s masterpiece wore. The gown was based upon the ancient Greek statue, the Charioteer of Delphi. (Figs 1, 2) In one book, the Fortuny gown was central to the mystery, in the other, it established the sleuth’s social status. And also this, in the first book of the mysteries that take place in Bath, (Peter Lovesey’s Peter Diamond) the discovery of unknown letters by Jane Austen is central to solving the mystery. You can learn a lot about a lot of things by read the right mysteries.
Figure 1. Mariano Fortuny’s Peplos Dress
Figure 2. Charioteer of Delphi, Greek, bronze, 478 BCE
I visited my English cousin Kathy who has lived in Oxford for more than forty years. We saw each other occasionally when I began traveling to Europe but lost track of one another when we started raising our own families. Now that we are both widows and I am living on this side of the world, we are back in touch. Last September, Kathy joined me for a few days in the Dordogne. She took the train from Oxford to London and from London to Paris. When she got to my apartment, she told me that she knew the street! Turns out, friends of hers from Oxford have an apartment across from my own! When we were in the Dordogne, I took her to places that are special to me. (Fig 3) Turns out, she knew some of those places, too. Another Oxford friend has a home just south of the Dordogne! We speculated about how often we might have been in the same place at the same time, maybe even crossing paths without knowing it. We enjoyed one another’s company so much that we agreed I should come to Oxford this spring. And so I did.
Figure 3. Katherine sketching in Eymet Bastide, Dordogne
I hadn’t been to London since 2018, during Ginevra’s disastrous semester at New York University's London based Master of Arts program in Historical and Sustainable Architecture. It was billed as a 9-month program to learn about the creative reuse of older buildings - sustainable architecture and historic preservation. After one semester, during which only professionals in the field rather than university professors dragged a small group of students around the English countryside offering mostly banal commentary that didn’t merit waking up before dawn let alone rushing to a train and then traipsing around with a too busy to have prepared a lesson, professional.
She left after a semester, deciding that $30,000 of debt without a degree was better than $60,000 of debt with minimal job prospects. Or at least minimal jobs prospects that would have paid enough for her to repay her loan. When I tell French people how much it costs to attend American colleges and universities, they are shocked. The reason that tuition is so high in the U.S. is because the Department of Education which I think no longer exists, regularly increased the amount students could borrow. Institutions just keep raising tuition so students could borrow the maximum permitted. And of course, the interest rates on student loans are high because there is no collateral, there is nothing to repossess. Ginevra was lucky, our bank, the late, much lamented, First Republic offered to pay off her loan and lend her money at a much, much lower rate. The collateral? That was me.
Putting all of those unpleasant memories aside, I concentrated on the specifics of my trip to Oxford. Looking for things I wanted to do in Oxford, looking at the museum offerings in London and most pressing of all, figuring out how to get from St Pancras Station where the Eurostar arrives to Paddington Station from which the train for Oxford departs. Kathy had taken the tube from Paddington to St Pancras and the metro from the Gare du Nord to my apartment. But that was her and this was me. She was familiar with the London tube and I knew that the French metro system is easy to navigate. When I expressed my unease, both Kathy and my American friend in Paris, Barb told me to take a taxi. I hate taxis in London. I have been taken on meandering trips by dishonest London cabbies often enough that I wasn’t in the mood to risk starting my London adventure that way. Other times, the traffic is so dense on London streets, that even if your Uber driver wants to make good time, they can’t. Then Ginevra reminded me that most people speak English in England. All I had to do was ask somebody for directions. So, I rounded up my Oyster cards and prepared myself for tackling the tube.
I found four art exhibitions in London. Kathy didn’t ask me to choose, she just said sure, like in, sure, let’s go to all four. My list of things to do in London included eating at an Ottolenghi cafe, buying cheese at Neal’s Yard and wandering around Burrough Market. Kathy figured out how to incorporate all those into our itinerary, too. Of course, I wanted to get to know Oxford. And so we walked into town with Kathy pointing out Inspector Morse sights and a sculpture by Antony Gormley with whom I fell in love at an exhibition of his work at the Rodin Museum a few years ago. (Figs 4, 5) One day, we drove into the Cotswolds, to Charlbury for a Benjamin Britton opera.
Figure 4. Antony Gormley takes over Rodin Garden, Rodin Museum, Paris, 2023-24
Figure 5. Antony Gormley in temporary exhibition space, Rodin Museum, Paris, 2023-24
I will tell you about all of those, but first a few words about how easy it is to get to Oxford, by train, from Paris. From my place to the Gare du Nord, on the metro line closest to my flat, was only 4 stops. I arrived 10 minutes after I left my apartment. I was early so I casually made my way upstairs to the Eurostar embarkation spot and just as casually walked through security, even though the automated passport reading machine couldn’t read my passport and an actual human being had to do it.
I found my ticket on my cell phone and swiped it correctly, eventually, and the turnstile let me through. And then I was in a line, waiting to board a train, chatting in both French and English with two young French guys ahead of me, one of whom had a faint German accent when he spoke English. Which he explained when I mentioned it that he had been living in Berlin for the past ten years. So we talked about Berlin where Nicolas and I plan to return in June. We kept talking and the line kept moving. The train was already on the track. Which seemed strange. Why would the train be there more than an hour before it was scheduled to depart. I only realized that I had boarded the wrong train to the right destination when it began to move. Luckily, the train was almost empty and nobody bothered me. With the time difference, I arrived in Oxford 20 minutes after I was scheduled to depart from Paris!
Then the challenge I was dreading. I was in London, I needed to be in Oxford. I quickly made my way from the St Pancras Eurostar station to the Kings Cross tube station, (spoiler alert: it’s the same station), armed with my Oyster cards. It’s amazing what clear signage in your own language can do to speed your journey along. Next, I convinced a guard of my ineptitude so convincingly that she accompanied me to the wall of tube ticket machines and showed me how to cash out two of my Oyster cards and load the third with money. Well, if I’m completely honest, she did it all and explained it to me as she went along. And then voila, I had pounds in my purse and an Oyster card in my pocket. I swiped, the turnstile let me through and I was at Platform 1.
The ride was easy and after a few stops, I was at the Paddington tube station. Finding the train station was a bigger challenge but by relying upon the kindness (and patience) of strangers I eventually got to the train station and onto the right train. Because, as Ginevra said, most everybody speaks English in London. And while the Eurostar was for a specific train leaving at a specific time (both of which I managed to ignore), the only constraint for which train I could take from London to Oxford was that it couldn’t be during morning or evening rush hours. Kathy picked me up at the Oxford train station and my visit began in the early, rather than the late, afternoon.
That first afternoon, we walked along a canal beside the River Thames to Port Meadow. Although we shared the meadow with insistent ducks and inquisitive cows (as well as a stampede of horses), we neither slid onto or stepped into anything untoward as we made our way through Port Meadow (Figs 6, 7) to Wolvercote, a village just beyond Oxford. The weather was cool, the sky was blue, the breeze was gentle. That first evening after a lovely meal of baked salmon, new potatoes and broccoli cooked as only the English know how to cook it, I watched the first segment of my heartthrob, Monty Don’s new series - British Gardens. (Fig 8) I follow Monty on Instagram but nothing compares to watching him walk around in his straw gardener’s hat, his lilac or pale blue scarf and his well worn beige or blue French workman’s jacket. He is always so earnest when he speaks with the gardeners whose gardens he has come to admire. Watching a bit of Monty every evening that I was in Oxford amused Kathy and delighted me.
Figure 6. Katherin keeping the ducks at bay at Port Meadow, Oxford en route to Wovercote
Figure 7. Katherine’s sketch for Port Meadow, (That Sweet City, Visions of Oxford, 2013)
Figure 8. Monty Don and his British Gardens series, 2025
For my first full day with Kathy, we walked into Oxford along another canal. Or maybe it was the same canal, just going in the opposite direction. There were some boats moored on the water but they were scruffy affairs, (Fig 9) nothing like the bateaux docked along the Canal St. Martin that I see on my way to the Jardin des Plantes. And definitely nothing like the ‘yachts’ docked in the Marina in San Francisco. What was most interesting along the canal was the gardens that abutted it. They were mostly very long and attached to houses that seemed very far away. Some of the gardens protected the privacy of the people in them while others seemed to welcome the gaze of passersby. (Fig 10) Another day I walked along those same houses from the street side, to see how the front gardens looked. Turns out there aren’t front gardens, just bricked entrances with parked cars mostly shielded by high hedges. It reminded me of Venice where the street side of palazzi are just entrances and the canal side are the show stoppers.
Figure 9. Canal toward Oxford with boats parked alongside
Figure 10. Two of the many gardens we passed walking along the canal on our way into Oxford
When we first got into Oxford, Katherine took me to a little cafe, every aspect of which was designed by the ceramicist, Emma Hart. The day we were there, even the shadows cooperated.(Figs 11, 12) Next we went the Radcliffe Camera (Figs 13, 14) which most people, by which I mean most Americans, probably recognize from watching Chief Inspector Morse with his sidekick Detective Lewis and his own eventual sidekick, Hathaway. All of the episodes of those two series emphasized that Morse, who was Oxford educated and Hathaway who was Cambridge educated, represented Gown. And Lewis, who was not college educated represented Town. Town referring to the non-academic population who live in a university town and Gown referring to the robe-wearing professors and students, some of whom (the students) are mostly there temporarily. Towns like Oxford, Cambridge and St Andrews (where William met Kate).
Figure 11. Modern Art Oxford underground Café designed by the ceramicist, Emma Hart
Figure 12. Modern Art Oxford underground Café designed by the ceramicist, Emma Hart - bench, tables, plates
Figure 13. Radcliffe Camera, Oxford, designed by James Gibbs (1737-1748)
Figure 14. Katherine’s sketch of Radcliffe Square (That Sweet City, Visions of Oxford, 2013)
The Camera (built between 1737–48) was funded by Dr John Radcliffe, scientist and physician to William III and Mary of England. It was designed by James Gibbs, one of the foremost British architects of his era, who had studied ancient classical and Renaissance architecture in Rome. I have read that the Camera was the first rotunda library in England. But I don’t know if it is the first one with a dome. it is not only an iconic landmark but a working library, too - a reading room of the Bodleian Libraries (about which, more below). A word about its name: ‘camera’ has nothing to do with taking photographs. “Camera” is the Latin (Italian) word for room. It’s just an English affectation. Like calling cake, gateau and eggplants, aubergines.
After staring at the star of Oxford’s architectural universe for a while, we were ready for lunch. Katherine knew just the place - right across Radcliffe Square from the Camera, in the University Church cellars. Called the Vaults, as soon as I entered, I was back at the University of Pennsylvania, on Locust Walk, in the cellar of St. Mary’s, eating sautéed vegetables on brown rice doused with tamari (hippie equivalent of soy sauce). The Tofu Coconut Curry with roasted root vegetables and coconut milk at the Vaults was more sophisticated but the vibe was the same. (Figs 15, 16) I saw a scone I would have loved to eat but I was too full. I thought about scones all week. We shared a table with a woman visiting her nephew who was studying at Oxford. She was a children’s librarian from Chapel Hill. We talked about book banning in Florida and Texas. I told her that Tomi de Paola’s, Strega Nona had been banned. We shook our heads and wished each other well.
Figure 15. The Vaults and Garden Café, University Church, Oxford
Figure 16. Tofu Coconut Curry at The Vaults. A totally delicious meal (beyond is Kathy’s Welsh rarebit)
After lunch, I booked a tour at the Bodleian Library. It’s the only way to get in if you aren’t a student or doing research. Here are some things I learned: the original 2000 books that Sir Thomas Bodley donated to this library for which he paid, that you see when you take the tour, are attached by a chain, are numbered in the order they came into the collection, are on shelves with the pages rather than the spines facing out since the spines are more delicate. When one of these 2000 books is unchained and removed, (Figs 17 - 21) a piece of paper is inserted as a place holder. Books are now catalogued thematically and alphabetically, using the Library of Congress system that replaced the Dewey Decimal system. Before those ways of storing books, it was librarians who knew where the books were. Librarians were the keepers of knowledge.
Figure 17. Bodleian Library exterior, Oxford
Figure 18. Books chained together, Bodleian Library, Oxford
Figure 19. Bodleian Oath taken by those entering library and using books (the not smoking part was not part of original)
Figure 20. Bodleian Library, Oxford
Figure 21, Detail, ceiling, Boldeian Library, Oxford
In addition to learning about the Bodleian Libraries’ medieval origins and admiring the elaborately carved gothic ceiling of the Divinity School, (Fig 22) we saw the pulpits and benches from which students and tutors once debated. We saw where the Harry Potter movies were filmed and learned that Guy Ritchie’s new Sherlock Holmes movie was filmed here, too. We also learned that since 1610 when Bodley entered into an agreement with the Stationers’ Company of London, a copy of every book published in England has been deposited in the Bodleian. Being here, I couldn’t help but reminisce about the happy hours I spent at the Library of Congress when I was a Smithsonian Fellow. When I had access to the stacks and could take books out. They weren’t supposed to go any farther than my desk at the Smithsonian but sometimes they did.
Figure 22. Ceiling with carved crests and other designs, Bodleian Library, Oxford
I’ve run out of space. Next week - London and Charlbury - art and the art of eating, English style. Thanks for your belated birthday wishes. Gros bisous, Dr. B.