Books Do Furnish A Room: More Moore at Kew

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Tuesday, 25 September 2007

More Moore at Kew

A few more photographs, following on from yesterday's post. Do you think there is something of Darth Vader in the first picture? Certainly the sunflowers are turning away in fear.

Posted at 04:55 PM in London | Permalink

Comments

In the Kew magazine, I seem to remember that the winter was chosen because of the various weathers that can be expected - sun, duller light, rain and even snow (which would be fun - more pictures if it happens!) Also, it might be interesting to see dead leaves blowing around them etc etc - but I agree some more summery exhibition time would have been good.

Posted by: lindsay | Wednesday, 26 September 2007 at 02:17 PM

Nice display of sculpture and vegetable pictures ! I am just wondering why they chose autumn and wintertime for an outdoor exhibition... Glo

Posted by: Glo | Wednesday, 26 September 2007 at 12:24 AM

Not so much Darth Vader as the sculpture "Torso in Metal from `The Rock Drill' 1913-14" by Jacob Epstein.

Dark Puss

Posted by: Peter the flautist | Tuesday, 25 September 2007 at 10:54 PM

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Quotidian

Nothing is of greater consolation to the author of a novel than the disovery of readings he had not conceived but which are then prompted by his readers. (Umberto Eco, Reflections on The Name of the Rose)
... relatively few persons in London ... can afford the luxury of one or more servants. No fewer than 3,700,000 have no servants at all, and of the half million that have servants 227,000 have only one. (The Times, 6 June 1895)
Standing among savage scenery, the hotel offers stupendous revelations. There is a French widow in every bedroom, affording delightful prospects. (Tyrolean inn brochure, according to Gerard Hoffnung)
(A doctor is at an elderly relative's deathbed) "The old sawbones, eh?" he bellowed ... "Just in the nick, perhaps. Haul the old girl back by the short hairs, if you ask me. Devilish smart at his work ... Always take a fence with more confidence when I know he's out with us."
Too often, when a man of Monty Godkin's mental powers is plunged in thought, nothing happens at all. The machinery just whirs for a while, and that is the end of it. (P G Wodehouse, Heavy Weather)
...the breed that take their pleasures as Saint Laurence took his grid (Kipling, The Five nations)