Grand Central?

I’ve always admired the gothic architecture of St Pancras and there was something endearingly majestic about Intercity 125s filling the air with black acrid diesel exhaust: you could almost pretend it was steam from a Nigel Gresley creation.

But that’s all changed: where HSTs to Sheffield once stood, Eurostar TGVs await to whisk you to Paris in less time. The roof, once blackened by smoke and steam is gleaming and flooding every corner with light. The station has sunk, the old undercroft below is the station, holding platforms on iron-pillared shoulders. It’s clean, it’s crisp: re-faced brick work, combining with light blue painted metalwork and flawless concrete platforms hosting the best of 21st century locomotion. This is our Grand Central, a destination in its own right: those were the headlines, that was the hype.

It is a revelation, hugley impressive and yet it’s not won me over, not yet. The old Midland Hotel demands grandeur, extravagance, a little quirkiness but clock and train shed shell apart, it’s all a little too clinical. The often-cited champagne bar lacks magnificence and feels like an exercise in making a very long table than delivering a memorable experience; maybe it would be different after the cold light of day. Maybe that is part of the problem: no clever use of light to draw out the potential of the most amazing railway building in London with the most compelling transport connections in the country.

Grand Central in New York is different: multiple levels, hidden alcoves, grand staircases along with the carefully regulated use of sun and artificial light all conspire to give a sense of opulence, romance, adventure and occasion. I found it frustratingly difficult to photograph last year but I’d rather publish blurred pictures of domed frescos and chandeliers than gleaming trains at gleaming platforms.

Natural History Museum

Initial scepticism clouded my first visit; it was a place to hide out of the rain or to kill a few minutes after visiting the Science Museum next door. However I’ve since visited twice more in quick succession to try and take in the enormity and variety of the place: true the cabinets of gemstones and metals are purely there to guide one towards the meteorite fragments and there’s only so much of stuffed animals you can take – strong and interested constitution notwithstanding. It is that variety that holds the attention though; the Planet Earth exhibitions are superb and bang up-to-date for environmentally-aware (if not particularly active) 2007.

Two highlights stick out though: firstly the architecture, so often my Achilles heal when I should be admiring the contents of a museum, is stunning. Internal brickwork and tiles that are carved with leaves and animals: that’s inspiring detail.

The second was in less auspicious surrounding but no less fascinating. The emerging Darwin Centre for the active research the Museum (and other visiting scientists) is right next door and the subject of a dedicated, free, tour. Those with a weak stomach or mind are quickly despatched with the first stop. Ever wondered how those skeletons are prepared for show, how they’re so… errr… clean? Well with the exception of dinosaurs who have a couple of millennia to decompose it doesn’t happen overnight without a little help. Cue the Darwin Centre’s colony of flesh eating beetles who can tear through a bone or two in a few days leaving it pristine and less…. errr…. fleshy.

Once we’d returned from letting a couple of the tour out we got onto the jars. Library archive-style cabinets of jars and jars and jars of everything, everything that we know of at least. The most spectacular space was the one that reeked of alcohol and formaldehyde (though probably not the latter or we wouldn’t have lived very long). Real specimens or real fish, snakes, monkeys; where things didn’t fit into jars naturally there’s an element of ‘folding’ or separation involved. Part of this collection is ‘Archie‘, a giant squid for which a special perspex case had to be constructed using techniques developed a la Damien Hirst. Though now probably trumped by the recent haul of a colossal squid near New Zealand this is an eye opener, literally. The immense size of the eyes, the viciousness of the sharp suckers.

Of greater interest even that this were some of the canopic jars from a certain Mr Darwin on his beagle voyage; yes, the Darwin, yes some of his specimens. The importance of these examples historically cannot be understated, unless you live in certain parts of the US of course.

Maybe it’s my (comparative!) ignorance in this particular field but the Museum is one not to simply walk round but one to be introduced to. Don’t necessarily be seduced by the (expensive) animatronic exhibition or whatever is flavour of the day; take a tour, don’t miss the architecture and be prepared to return.

Diplomacy by design

If you had to guess which country had the most stylish building as its embassy, who would it be? The French, the Italians, the Americans?

Actually no suprise that, in my opinion, it goes to the Danes. With a slate black facade, pod-shaped windows and a subtle splash of greenery this really is an architectural revelation on Sloane Street opposite the private gardens.

If you’ve seen a more impressive or distinctive candidate on the streets of London, let me know….