I arrived at noon dropped the bags at the B&B and then took the nine stops from Kings Cross to South Kensington. A few minutes walk brought me to the Victoria and Albert Museum. I was early to collect my timed ticket for the Sky Arts Ignition: Memory Palace exhibition.
After queuing for ten minutes (we Brits eh!) at the proper sign to be told I just had to approach the entrance at the allotted time. I went to check the cafe. This was very nice, on the pricey side and rather busy. It's not easy to find a seat, do self-service and be secure. Anyway it was time for a walk, find somewhere else. Before doing so I went to shop and bought the exhibition book, not a huge tome and quite interesting.
Not far away around the corner I found the Brompton cafe. There were seats here. I ordered a cappucinno. There was a large communal table so I sat there. I was ok for about twenty minutes and then came over all hot and increasingly dizzy. I realised I had to move and quickly so took my jumper off and walked around to the right where there was a bookshop.
It was empty and there was sofa with 'LOVE' emblazoned on it - three times - if I registered this correctly. I could hear the cafe and just see one table through the passage way. At that moment I'd had enough of the individual-group axis and the humanistic-mechanistic took over as I went semi-horizontal.After a couple of minutes I recovered myself and was able to get up - yes the gyro functions - and carry on my way. I am really grateful for that little space and rest. I was still determined to visit the exhibition and attend the showcase. This was fortunate timing with Sunday the 20th the last day of the exhibition and I wanted to keep it that way.
In the post-apocalyptic world of British author Hari Kunzru’s specially commissioned 10,000 word novella, London has been ravaged by a magnetic storm; all memory, art, writing, and recording has been banned. As one man attempts to remember, alone in his cell, the narrative unfolds.
Zoe Pilger, The Independent - Art review.
“Once there were great palaces called Hospitals.” In contrast to a dystopian future when the NHS and indeed all medical knowledge has been erased, the idea of basic public services appears miraculous. “It was a time of great wonder,” he writes, referring to the present. This fragment of text is accompanied by a fabulous sculpture of a “misremembered” ambulance by London-based illustration collective Le Gun. A ghoulish figure brandishes a whip and pulls a cart filled with potions that promise ad-hoc, alchemical healing.
“misremembered” ambulance by London-based illustration collective Le Gun
Zoe Pilger, The Independent - Art review and image
See page 18-19 of Kunzru’s book.I started in a memory palace, a book shop. I left to visit another, carrying my own memory palace in my mind.
Hodges' model is a memory palace, vacant, awaiting occupancy by patient, client, or carer. The model acts as a great prompt past, future and the here and now.