The Royal College of Physicians in Regent's Park: Denys Lasdun's Modernist Masterpiece

On Monday I attended a course at the Royal College of Physicians in London, which gave me the opportunity to have another look around one of the most significant modern buildings in Britain. It is in Regent's Park next to John Nash's famous Regency terraces, to which it provides a counterpoint. It harmonises beautifully in with the older buildings, while being uncompromisingly modern.

The college was completed in 1965, the work of modernist architect Denys Lasdun, who later designed the National Theatre, and is regarded as one of his masterpieces. From the outside the dominant impression is of an imposing horizontal cantilevered white slab resting on a dark base.

The main interior space is dominated by the large Marble Hall (renamed the Lasdun Hall in honour of the architect) with a staircase rising up the middle. A generous budget allowed Lasdun to use luxurious materials, and to work with highly skilled engineers, as seen in the Sicilian marble used in the staircase, the specially commissioned porcelain wall tiles from Candiolo in Italy, the double-storey panes of glass that were the largest that could be manufactured at the time, and the hydraulic wall between the Osler and Long rooms, that can be raised out of the way to form a single large hall.

Large windows frame views of the College gardens, and Regent's Park with its Nash Terraces, which become part of the whole composition.

It's a pleasure to walk through and explore, with unexpected viewpoints and beautiful details, such as this stairwell, illuminated by a hidden skylight that produces marvellous effects of light and shade.

Apart from the building itself, there is much to see. Paintings of presidents of the college line the walls, and there are historical exhibits on all floors.

The room leading to the small lecture theatre where our course was held houses a historical collection of medical instruments, like these tongue scrapers.

On the fourth floor there are  the celebrated "anatomical tables" wooden panels on which are mounted human veins, nerves and arteries dissected at the famous anatomy theatre in the University of Padua in the 17th century.

Outside is the lovely Medicinal Garden containing plants that are used for medicinal and other purposes.

Although I found the building a delight, it's not great if you are disabled. My wife organised a conference there some years back and despite the lifts, wheelchair users and other disabled people found it difficult and dispiriting to negotiate because of the multiple levels with short flights of stairs, such as the one seen on the left side of the picture below.

It's a shame, but I suppose the Grade I listed status of the building places limitations on on what can be done to improve this.

For more about the building, here is an excellent video:

I also thoroughly recommend a slim book, Anatomy of a Building by Rowan Moore, who also wrote this review of a recent exhibition at the College about its architecture. The book is available from the reception desk at the College, and can also be purchased online. It is primarily about the building, and also explores the influences and background behind it, and the history of the college.

One of the interesting illustrations in it is this juxtaposition of the RCP with Hawksmoor's Christ Church in Spitalfields, and Brunelleschi's early renaissance Pazzi Chapel in Florence, illustrating the influence of the earlier buildings on Lasdun's design.

While designing the College, Lasdun is also said to have been obsessed by a painting by Paul Klee, Uncomposed Objects in Space (1929), whose influence can be seen in the Marble Hall

(from https://pavlopoulos.wordpress.com/articles/paul-klee-uncomposed-objects-in-space-1929/)

Incidentally, the Royal Institute of British Architects is nearby, at 66 Portland Place. The art deco building is worth a visit in it's own right. It has a nice bookshop, and they often hold interesting exhibitions.

The Royal College of Physicians
11 St Andrews Place, Regent's Park, London NW1 4LE
Information for visitors

Further reading:

William JR Curtis. Seminal Works of Architecture Transcend their Time, Architectural Review September 2014. pdf

Rowan Moore Just What the Doctor Ordered, Observer, September 2014

Barnabas Calder, Guest Curator of the exhibition at the RCP, Commentary Article, September 2014

Rowan Moore. Anatomy of a Building. Royal College of Physicians 2014 (buy online)

On St George's Day, I Explored my Little Corner of England

I had a half day off at work today, and set off for home on foot on a fine, bright, sunny afternoon. On an impulse, instead of cutting across it as I usually do, I turned right and to explore for the first time one of the two woodlands within the hospital grounds. This one is known as the Long Shapely Belt. I followed the path  along the edge of the hospital, with trees on either side, and two pretty ponds on the left.

At the end of the wooded area there path led to a gap in the trees, and continued out of the hospital across a large, right yellow field of rapeseed with the bright yellow flowers in full bloom.

Straight ahead in the distance I could see the tower of the Melbourne Road flats close to my house, so checking my route with google maps on my phone (satellite view) I strode off along the path.

At the end of the path, my way was blocked by a row of trees, so after checking the google satnav again, I decided to turn left. After a bit there was a gap in the trees, with a path going through it and a signpost helpfully confirming that this it was a public footpath, so I carried on.

After a bit I arrived at a lovely farmhouse which was the same one I usually walk by on the road, but from this vantage point I could see that it was a rather fine building, which I had not previously realised.

Looking around for a way through I was fortunate to encounter someone who pointed me in the right direction, over the stile and across more fields.

And so I eventually got home along a route roughly parallel to my usual one, but more or less entirely across open countryside. It took rather longer than usual because I had to check my position and took a few wrong turns, but I think it is probably a feasible alternative route for my regular commute on foot.

Two days previously, I had on another impulse gathered dandelion leaves on my way home with thoughts of using them for salad, perhaps a salade de pissenlits au lardons. I knew that it was best to get the small young leaves, before the flowers appeared, but I wasn't sure if these would be suitable, and indeed they were a bit bitter, but I did wonder if they would be good stir fried.

A little online research confirmed that this would probably be fine, so for dinner this evening, for our dinner on St George's Day,  I stir fried our English dandelion leaves in cold pressed extra virgin English rapeseed oil with garlic, as an accompaniment for grilled English lamb cutlets. To drink we had an excellent Saling Gold from our local Round Tower brewery.

We also had on the side some aubergine dips made by Sabra, which, as I discovered by chance, was the name of the princess that St George rescued from the dragon. A most enjoyable meal.

This is the first time I've eaten dandelion leaves. They have a nice texture and are rather bitter, but I quite like that. They are an excellent alternative to kangkong which is quite difficult to find in England, and I'm sure they are good fried with sambal belacan, or cooked in coconut milk. In fact, it appears that they they're eaten in Indonesia, where they are known as randa tapak. I think I'll be doing a bit more foraging.

The Parish Church of St Mary with St Leonard, Broomfield

For the past fortnight, since my last post on the subject, I've been walking to work most days, and feeling the benefit. It's somewhat more exercise than I've been doing recently, so it's a little tiring at the end of the day, and I get a bit footsore sometimes. I could use my bike on some of those occasions when I've driven, except that some time ago I noticed that one of the tyres was almost worn through, and I haven't got round to sorting it

The last two days have been unseasonably warm, bright and sunny, and the fine weather encouraged me to linger on the way back. I stopped by the Church of St Mary with St Leonard, and had a stroll around the grounds. This is the parish church of Broomfield, the village my workplace is located. The oldest parts of the church date from the 11th century (older than Chelmsford Cathedral), although there have been many additions over the years.

The round tower is one of the oldest parts of the church and is Norman, from the 12th century. Many of the bricks in the tower and the older parts of the church are re-used Roman bricks.

The additions from different periods, with different building materials, are clearly visible and add to the charm.

There is a lovely churchyard with interesting gravestones like the one shown here.

The church itself was closed, so a visit to the interior will have to wait, but I found this plan, along with a detailed description at British History Online.

St Mary with St Leonard, Church Green, Broomfield, Chelmsford, Essex CM1 7BE

Canard à la Presse at Otto's, in London

I'm always on the lookout for classic French cuisine, which seems a bit out of fashion in London these days, more's the pity, so when I heard about Otto's from Bridie Hall, I checked it out online and was thrilled to find that they served, among other things, Canard à la Presse.

The dish originated in Rouen in the early 19th century, and was made famous by the legendary Tour d'Argent in Paris. A duck is roasted rare and carved, and served in different ways, but the key feature is a specially constructed press which is used to squeeze all the juices out of the carcase, which are then used in the sauce. I'd heard about it before, and had always wanted to try it. Now was my chance. It's a luxury dish for a special occasion, but my birthday was coming up, which was a good pretext.

Otto's is a small restaurant on Gray's Inn Road, not very conspicuous from the outside. The interior is narrow, with tables reasonably close together on the ground floor as well as in the basement. It's furnished eclectically, with reproductions of classical greek friezes, large black-and-white portraits of actresses from the 50s and 60s, and a wide variety of silverware, and objets d'art, some of it quite old.

We were shown to a table in a corner, close to the entrance to the kitchen, and warned that there might be a wait of 45 minutes. We shown the menu in case we wanted a starter. They looked very tempting, but after some consideration we declined. A wise choice as it turned out

The duck was produced. It was very large. Otto uses Challons ducks from France, a breed regulated under the French Appellation Controllée system. Each duck is numbered; ours was No 2009. The duck was taken away for preparation.

After a while the owner Otto came up to the table and started preparing the sauce on a 1910 Christofle trolley, explaining each step as he went along.

We chatted to him while he was at the table. I wondered where he had learnt the technique. It turns out that he had worked in Paris at the Tour d'Argent in the 1970s, as well as at Maxim's and at the Plaza Athenee. Shortly after that time, Maxim's was taken over by Pierre Cardin. I remember they  had a brief period of global expansion and even had a branch in Singapore in the 1980s, but in the end the expansion didn't quite work out. Otto reckoned that Maxim's had a part in the downfall of the Shah of Iran, when they provided the catering for the Feast in the Desert, a lavish celebration of the 2500th anniversary of the Persian Empire which cost at least $17 million, and which not go down well with his subjects.

The liver is used in the preparation of the sauce, then strained, taken away, and after some preparation in the kitchen, brought back on brioche toast, accompanied by a cup of Muscat de Beaumes de venise.

The roasted duck was brought to the table, the breast carved into thin slices, the legs taken back to the kitchen.

Then came the pressing. The carcase was put into the press, which is a bit like a printing press with a bell-shaped contained that accommodates the duck. I was invited to participate in the operation. The screw is turned, and all the juices are squeezed out. These are collected and used to make the sauce. The press was made specially for this purpose in the early 1900s. Like the serving trolley, it was made by Christofle (are you beginning to see a pattern here?)

When the sauce is ready, the slices of breast are served with it. It's incredibly rich tasting, and delicious. They are accompanied by french beans and souffle potatoes, the later being like ultra-light air-filled fries.

The legs are served as a second course, accompanied by a frisée salad, crouton, bacon lardons and pieces of crisp duck skin.

There was no room for dessert. In fact, being a little out of practice, I decided to forgo my usual post-prandial coffee, and to have a mint tea instead. This, by the way, is scientifically proven to be effective in this situation. Mint is used by doctors for a number of gastrointestinal applications which I will not go into here.

It was great to find a restaurant serving classic French cuisine. It's nice that it's furnished to the owner's taste, with bits and pieces he has added to it, rather than being designed within inch of its life.  Otto is something of a collector, and he is keen on silver. Apart from the serving trolley and duck press, there are other items including a couple of giant samovars. As we were chatting, he brought to our table a glass duck from the Tour d'Argent, made in the 1950s.

The meal we had was a wonderfully theatrical experience, and every bit of it was delicious. I'd have it again, but not before trying some of the other things on the menu. The standard menu looks fantastic, and as special dishes, they also do Lobster à la Presse, with a special silver lobster press (Christofle, of course), and Poulet Demi-Deuil: chicken with fresh truffles under the skin. There is an extensive wine list, by the way, on which I am not qualified to comment, but it looked pretty impressive to me, and we enjoyed the bottle we ordered.

It was a tremendously enjoyable evening. I'm sure I would have had a good time had I tried the pressed duck at the Tour d'Argent in Paris, but I've got a feeling that Otto's might be more to my taste.  There are also rumours that things at the Tour are not as they used to be: pre-prepared sauces for their Canard à la Presse, and that sort of thing.

There were so many other dishes on the menu which I want to try, and I'm definitely coming back for more.

Otto's
182 Gray's Inn Road
London  WC1X 8EW
http://www.ottos-restaurant.com/

The racing kolek of the Riau Islands (and formerly of Singapore)

Growing up in Singapore, I was aware of racing koleks, but I don't think I ever saw them, except in photographs. They captured my imagination, and later I tried to find out more.

The kolek is a type of open undecked boat found in the Riau archipelago, Singapore and Johore. These places were once part of the Old Johor Sultanate, but during the colonial period they were divided between the British (Singapore and Malaya) and the Dutch (he Dutch East Indies, later Indonesia).

Alexander Hamilton's "A Map of the Dominions of Johore and of the Island of Sumatra with the Adjacent Islands" (1727). Illustrating mainland Johore, eastern Sumatra, Singapore and Riau Archipelago as a single political entity, the map was made a century prior to the partition of 1824 http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:PedraBranca-MapofDominionsofJohore-Hamilton-1727.jpg



Warm weather, warm water and light winds in this region allowed the development of the racing kolek, a long, lean, low sailing canoe with enormous sails, tippy and easily flooded, steered by a paddle, and kept upright by crew members hanging out over the sides, with their feet on the gunwale, holding on to ropes attached to the mast. The boats were sailed throughout 


In Singapore, they were raced by the Malay community from the 1800s to the 1970s. The men who sailed the boats mostly lived in coastal kampongs (villages). When the kampongs were cleared for redevelopment, the inhabitants were resettled in high rise apartments, and the sport died out.

45-foot Racing Kolek, Singapore

from Mast and Sail in Europe and Asia, by H. Warrington Smythe. London 1906.

http://www.thecheappages.com/smyth/mast_n_sail_10.html

https://archive.org/details/mastandsailineu00smytgoog

Lines of a Singapore racing kolek, published in the Yachtsman

from Mast and Sail in Europe and Asia, by H. Warrington Smythe. London 1906.

http://www.thecheappages.com/smyth/mast_n_sail_10.html

https://archive.org/details/mastandsailineu00smytgoog

New Year Regatta, Singapore c 1905, from a postcard. National Archives of Singapore

http://www.nas.gov.sg/archivesonline/photographs/record-details/21899044-1162-11e3-83d5-0050568939ad

In one respect the kolek was well ahead of its time. The method of keeping the boat upright by holding on to a rope attached to the mast, and hanging out over the side with feet on the gunwale only made it's appearance in England in the 1930s when Beecher Moore adopted a similar system for his boat Vagabond. (It's not clear if he worked it out for himself or got the idea from somewhere else). The first proper trapeze appeared in 1938, in Falmouth.

The good news is that kolek racing is alive and well in neighbouring Indonesia.

Source : https://www.flickr.com/photos/haryadi_be/6136469459/

As I said, I've never seen them in action myself, but Sam Fadlil has written a lively description in his blog, and you can watch a video of a recent kolek race here.

Although Singapore is one of the world's greatest seaports, there is little interest in her maritime heritage. A small Maritime Museum on Sentosa was shut down some years ago, it's collection of boats left to languish in a warehouse. In its place, the so-called "Maritime Experiential Museum", a travesty of a of shopping mall cum theme park with educational pretensions, which I visited last year. It was a dispiriting and depressing experience. However, things seem to be looking up. The Singapore National Heriage Board has set up a Maritime Heritage Fund, and there is a new Maritime Heritage Centre.

Perhaps it's time for a revival of kolek racing, not just in Singapore, but in the neighbouring Malaysian state of Johor as well, where this sport was once practiced.

The big kolek races in Indonesia are held around 17 August, their National Day. The National Day of Singapore is on 9 August, that of Malaysia on 31 August. A great time for a kolek racing circuit between the three fraternal nations. I wish I could claim credit for this idea, but it was mooted 10 years ago. See the caption at the bottom of the last picture in this article.