My trip to bountiful (London, actually)….Tales from the crypt edition

So I walked through a crypt today and got to look at some great art. While walking around Bloomsbury, my partner saw a poster for a gallery exhibition, Catching the Eye. It was affixed to the gate of the St. Pancras Church in Bloomsbury. We followed the signs and found ourselves at the red door of the Crypt Gallery St. Pancras Church. Gingerly we stepped inside. I say gingerly, because I didn’t understand the concept of a “crypt gallery” and thought for a few minutes that were going to a macabre display of excavated corpses, so I breathed a sigh of relief when I discovered that it was a gallery of paintings.

Only in London do I ever have this kind of experience. I walk down a weird road and boom – I’m in a crypt looking at paintings. The crypt was beautiful and had grottos, alcoves, and rooms that worked perfectly as spaces for individual artists to hang their work. All the work was very impressive, and the prices were reasonable. We especially liked the work of Jane Stothert, with whom we had the immense pleasure of chatting – my partner is an artist and knew about silk screening, and Stothert is a painter/print maker, and her work is gorgeous – reminded me a bit of the WPA travel posters.

Ms. Stothert is a wonderful artist who has a great eye for color, form, and line. Her work is beautiful, and more importantly, she was a beautiful person. We chatted for a good long time, discussing travel, art, literature, and even politics. We talked about our travels in London and how we want to live here, and she wished us luck. We also talked about Oscar Wilde, Chagall, and Fort Lauderdale. I know, we ran the gamut of topics. I wish we could talk more, but she had to speak with other patrons, and we wished her good luck and walked around some more.

The crypt has a space that joined two rooms and in the space we saw broken tomb stones, that eulogized people who died around the Victorian era. That was really the only clue that I saw that alerted me to the fact that we were strolling through what was essentially an underground cemetery. It was a bit strange drinking red wine while in the crypt – it reminded me a bit of the Edgar Allen Poe story The Cask of Amontillado.

Below are some pictures of the crypt – out of respect for the artists, I didn’t take any pictures of the art work. However, the work is available on the Espacio Gallery’s Website. Please check it out.

 

The red door of the Crypt Gallery St. Panras Church - no, it's not Elizabeth Arden

The red door of the Crypt Gallery St. Panras Church – no, it’s not Elizabeth Arden

Side view of the crypt of St. Pancras

Side view of the crypt of St. Pancras

What looks to be 3 might saints guarding the door to the crypt at St. Pancras church

What looks to be 3 might saints guarding the door to the crypt at St. Pancras church

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Filed under Nonfiction, Travel, Writing

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