For weeks now I’ve been meaning to write about public art on the street of my neighbourhood. But instead I offer you the front elevation of Sir Christopher Wren’s Royal Hospital for army veterans. Read on to know why.

In explanation, I’ve had several goes at taking photographs of the art that has been around my local street this summer. But the light was always wrong. Or it was raining and blustery. Or there were too many people moving around.

Image by D J from Pixabay

Then today — at last — was bright and still. I got up early for one last try.

By 7.00 a.m. I was in full paparazzo mode. The light was that wonderful silvery, sharp-shadowed mid-autumn morning that mellows throughout the day, to golden evening. And ends with cricket on village greens where the outfield  is in long, lovely shadow and the bowler has to squint into the starting-to-set sun.

And the art was gone.
The year had, yet gain, got away from me.

Chelsea and Art

Chelsea is an odd duck. Bisected by the King’s Road (technically private; you had to get a permit to use it until 1830) it doesn’t seem ever to have had quite the village feel of, say Hampstead or Notting Hill. In the second half of the 19th century, writers and artists (Carlyle, George Eliot, the Rosettis and, later, Augustus John) congregated here, along with the occasional refugee philosopher like Karl Marx (in Anderson Street, before moving to Soho).

When I moved in, many years ago now, the Chelsea College of Art was still teaching painting and graphic design at its campus in Manresa Road. The wonderful art supplies shop, Green and Stone, trading since 1934, was still thriving, as indeed it did until 5 years ago. (The Victorian building had major damp. They now operate out of the Fulham Road.)

Thus, for many years, the place regarded itself, with justice, as hip, cool and distinctly arty.

These days there are more businessmen than artists living here. (I blame public transport. We can get into Mayfair, Westminster and the City of London much more quickly than Carlyle or George Eliot could.)

So maybe temporary installations on the King’s Road are designed partly to remind us of our heritage. And encourage togetherness.

Visiting Public Art

I first became aware of the occasional visiting installation in 2012, when super-decorated Easter eggs popped all over London, not just Chelsea. I even found a couple in the National Theatre. The statue of Sir Hans Sloane (permanent public art, by Simon Smith after John Michael Rysbrack unveiled 2007) in Duke of York Square was within gracious waving distance of three.

They were good fun and generally pleasing to the eye. Egg-spotting became a regular habit between friends.

After that came dogs, cows, horses… It raised a smile, but it no longer had the shock of the new, at least as far as my friends and I were concerned.

Besides, the Chelsea Flower show (third week in May in the ground of the Royal Hospital, see above), which had always induced local businesses to put their best foot forward in the matter of floral decoration, began to inspire seriously elaborate constructions.

All flesh is grass, and all flower creations too. The Flower Show is a Monday to Friday thing, and Monday’s gorgeous displays were gasping for air come Friday. But some were truly spectacular. Lloyds Bank’s rearing black stallion became a naughty black pony invading a flower bed of foxgloves and saxifrage for the occasion. I saw at least one father lift up a small girl to kiss it on the nose.

Kensington and Chelsea Art Week

This year the Kensington and Chelsea Art Week supported its seventh Art Trail. It covered the whole of the Borough from North Kensington to the King’s Road, from Earl’s Court to Sloane Square. The curatorial theme was “Changing Landscapes” and embraced a wide range of messages from a number of artists.

It is clear that they were aiming at the Instagram constituency. I’m not yet on Instagram, so don’t know how successful that proved.

The King’s Road was particularly lucky, in that it was home to a large section of the sculpture trail “Kids Go Wild” by public sculpture artists and wildlife activists, Gillie and Marc.

Image by Mircea Iancu from Pixabay

I first realised something special was happening when, trailing back from the dentist on a miserable wet day, I came onto the King’s Road and stopped dead. A crowd of grownups and children were gathered at the end of Royal Avenue, laughing, taking photographs.

Not surprising really. There were 10 sculptures of wild animals (including a small elephant and a giraffe) plus one small human being sitting on a multi saddled tandem peddling towards Worlds End.

I seriously wonder if the artists did that deliberately, They are committed conservationists after all. Or maybe they were just trying to make sure the animals peddled away from our seat of government and the Houses of Parliament. It is in the same direction.

Public Art and the Message

The Kids Go Wild installation was a would-be co-cyclist’s dream  and not just for children. I saw Dads taking their turn with fantastic enthusiasm. And it was not just playtime. As their website makes clear, Gillie and Marc’s commitment to conservation is ardent. I do really urge you to browse that site. Not only are there brilliant photographs of various installations, but also they explain their ideas and ideals.

Their Dog Man and Rabbit Woman, of whom their were individual sculptures on the trail, come with a story. They aim to teach children about endangered wildlife. It is done beautifully, with just enough fantasy to make magical thinking a route to bring about a change human values.

This is not the first time that the such a message has hit the King’s Road, either. The last time, in exactly the same place, we saw a herd elephants, this time in wood. They were truly moving, whether they were outside standing beside Macdonalds, majestic and aloof…

…or if they were trekking solidly round the Duke of York’s playing field.  They are captured below with Sarah Mallory, author and Libertà blogger.

In conclusion

Which brings me back to my original image at the start of this blog.

While both beasts on a tandem and elephants outside Macdonalds made me think, made me weep a little and also made me smile, Sir Christopher Wren’s beautiful building to house veterans gives me real hope for humanity’s capacity to do things right and well. Glad the visitors came. Pleased that they have moved on to take their message more widely.

Good to see you again, old friend!

Sophie