Turning a house into a palace

The original design for what is today Buckingham Palace, was a more modest townhouse, built in 1705 for the Duke of Buckingham. In 1761 it was bought by King George III for Queen Charlotte.

Thereafter aggrandisement of the original building began with changes in plan through two more reigns, (that of George IV, using John Nash, and that of William IV, using Edward Blore).  Upon the accession of Queen Victoria in 1837, the palace became her official residence, and that of future monarchs until the present day. However, the open courtyard seen in the drawing above, with a triumphal arch, (Marble Arch), subsequently moved to the top of Park Lane, underwent further changes in 1847, because it was considered too small for a growing family and Court life.

Accordingly, a new wing, enclosing the courtyard, and forming a quadrangle was designed and built by Thomas Cubitt, as above. This became much more of the building recognised today, which was again altered in 1913, to that which we have today. It is now certainly a grand, although not necessarily pretty building, unlike its first incarnation. Fittingly it has the look of an important office building, for what George VI described as The Firm.

At the end of this week BP will again become the backdrop for a light show, as it was during the Golden Jubilee in 2002, (below).

Not quite the Great Hall of the People, but perhaps the People's Palace.

The top architectural print is from Vetruvius Britannicus c.1717-1725 and is one of several I bought from Sotheran's in Pimlico more than 20 years ago. The lower photograph shows a partial display of the collection in our predominantly black and white drawing room in the New Town, Edinburgh.

Other images are from Wikipedia, and from unknown sources. 

Curiosity

I do by nature have a curious mind. I am not universally curious however, so that understanding the detailed workings of a combustion engine would not excite me beyond a summarised and easily understood version. But for design-related subjects, and particularly interior design related, my curiosity seems to be unassuaged. In many respects I think this might be because I also want to understand how to improve something.

I dislike wasted effort, whether my own or anyone else's. As an example, we need to have a railing erected around the decking of the pool area. The architect has produced a number of drawings with ideas and has presented them to the committee. The committee's standard answer to this and other presentations it receives is "please provide more ideas, more samples", (really: more excuses for us to waste your time, and to delay having to make a decision). It must be terribly frustrating for the designer to have to continue going back to the drawing board, and eventually they give up and the project gets shelved. This seems to be a particularly tiresome way of doing things in Thailand, where time and money account for so very little. The instruction (which it really isn't), gives the designer no inclination of which aspect of their design they would like to change. 

Corporate structures have routines which are sometimes set up by the people who are at the beginning of that structure being established. On the surface some of these routines seem absurd, so being of a curious mind, I ask why? Quite often no one knows why. In which case there is really no reason for continuing to do something for no valid reason.

Blogging is a suitable vehicle for those of us who have an inquiring mind. We have to research before we put finger to keypad. Some go to great lengths and their endeavours are admirable. Others, myself included, try to give a flavour, rather than the recipe and Cordon Bleu course.  

The problem with curiosity is sometimes it's best to let sleeping dogs lie.

Otherwise the cat may get its comeuppance.

Work in progress

Our pink building is being painted predominantly white, and happily the project has started at the top and on the left of the building, where our apartment is located.

The arrival time of the merry men on our floor is not exactly predictable, so one has to be prepared, and not be caught doing the housework in lingerie.

An owners' meeting today agreed to spend further monies to paint inside the balconies, so the completion date for the project will now extend beyond the original deadline of August. Given that these schedules tend to be wildly off the mark, I would realistically expect to see men hanging around until end of the year. 

Elusive Whampoa

Chinese School Trade Painting, Qing Dynasty, C19th

Panoramic scene with shipping at Whampoa

oil on canvas, 43 x 75cm

If my plans had come to fruition, I would have been in Shanghai today for a long weekend. But alas the proposed trip dates coincided with our need to complete our annual visa extension for Thailand, which might have jeopardised the processing of the Chinese visa. So we've remained in situ.

In the last week in April this Chinese School picture of the Huangpu (Whampoa) river, upon which the famous Bund forms the western side, was for sale at Mossgreen in Melbourne. I am slightly wary of paying the very high prices being achieved for Chinese art at the moment, so my limit was quite modest, and not surprisingly was eclipsed. It sold for AUD8,000 - about the same in USD.

More recently there was a pair, (or rather two similar) Chinese School pictures for sale:

which also caught my eye. The lower one is very similar to the pair I bought four years ago, and they were described as being Sunqua or Studio. But there was something rather unlikely about the junk in the middle left, (even accepting the fact that perspective is not a requirement). The upper picture is of the pagoda at Whampoa. Anyway my lack of conviction meant I didn't place a bid. If I had it would have been far exceeded by the winning price achieved - USD18,000 (more that twelve times what I paid for mine).

Japonaise

Some of you may recall the fiasco over the decoration of the Christmas tree, and how I was also lamenting the floral arrangements being provided by our florist. She must have heard my dissatisfaction subliminally, because not long after that she decided she no longer wanted to provide the service to us.

Trying to get a company to replace the service seemed quite difficult, but then I remembered that one of our fellow residents conducts Ikebana classes here in the library. Having established who she was I asked the building manager to ask her if she would be interested in making the arrangements for our lobby in the future.

Happily she did agree, and presented her first display last weekend, and this is the second. I met the lady again a couple of days ago and I told her how much I was enjoying her endeavours. She commented that it might not be everyone's taste, as it was very much in the Japanese style, (as you might expect from Ikebana).

But I assured her that it was charming and most welcome. The added bonus of having another resident fulfill this task is that she sees it everyday, and adjusts it as required, (by removing dead or wilting flowers). I am particularly glad that today's Japanese style coincides with the birthday of my better (Japanese) half.

Meanwhile, in the C21st

I am quite unashamedly reproducing this and the link to the other photographs published in The Telegraph's reportage of the State Opening of Parliament.

We love spectacles, but whether we will continue to love them beyond the present reign remains to be seen. Sadly I rather doubt it.

For a more irreverent, but none-the-less amusing account of the day's proceedings, you might enjoy this piece from The Guardian. HM described as rolled in jewellery like a chicken nugget in breadcrumbs, is a description that perhaps encapsulates the British sense of humour, topped [literally, I suppose] only by:

her entire ensemble flashed like a disco ball. If you've seen the real deal, you'll know exactly what the writer means.

Brightening up your day

There were some startlingly brightly coloured pieces of furniture for sale at auction recently, all covered in silk velvet ikat fabrics.

Although I admire the boldness, (of the decorator)

I'm not entirely sure I could live with all the busyness.

Perhaps one accent piece, such as this fauteuil would satisfy.

Completely.

Material Culture Auctioneers. Lots 296-301.