Julia Margaret Cameron

To London just two days before Christmas, unseasonably warm at 13 degrees, tempting fate with the hoards of zombie shoppers headed for London but keen to see the Julia Margaret Cameron exhibition at the V&A before railway repair work begins at Christmas and cuts Brighton off from the rest of the world.

 

First stop, the neo-Byzantine Westminster Cathedral, ten minutes walk from Victoria Rail Station.

 

 

Through the Holy Door for 2016 and into the silence of the cathedral. It’s deep into Advent and extra confessors are hard at work, dispensing forgiveness and Grace with an especial joy this Holy Year of Mercy. Four confessionals are in operation and the queue of about 40 penitents are all healed within ten to fifteen minutes.

On to St Paul’s Bookshop; books, magazines, music, eBibles, statues, cards, holy pictures, crucifixes, rosaries, medals, candles, aromatic incenses, burners, priestly clothing...and 1.000 other things. It is a mystery how people manage to tear themselves away in time to spend some time in the Catholic Truth Society (CTS) bookshop, just two minutes away on the Cathedral Piazza. I managed it but had little money remaining when I left.

Then it was off to South Kensington Tube station and five minutes walking in the tunnel brought me to the exit for the Victoria & Albert (V&A), Science and Natural History Museums.

At the exit there was a statue I had never seen before, Subodh Gupta’s ‘When Soak Becomes Spill,’ a huge shiny stainless steel bucket filled with hundreds of equally shiny and attractive containers, a message about the cost to the earth’s resources of meeting the desires of a consumer society.

 

Then on to the imposing bulk of the V&A and the exhibition of over 100 prints by Julia Margaret Cameron.

Inside, through large echoing exhibition rooms, past groups of visitors taking photos and selfies...

 

 On, through halls populated only by statues...

 

Past the Chinese section with its glass cases of highly embroidered robes...

 

...and up the stairs to the Julia Margaret Cameron (JMC) exhibition. She is one of the 19^th century pioneers of photography in the UK, was born 200 years ago and held her first major exhibition 150 years ago - in this very museum.

To be frank, JMC is not one of my favourite photographers.

Yes, her body of work is impressive for someone who was only given a camera at the age of 48 and two years later in 1865 successfully convinced her contact Sir Henry Cole to provide an exhibition for her at the South Kensington Museum (now the V&A). Certainly she devoted a huge amount of time to her craft and learned quickly – and these were days before digital photography when developing photographs was very physical, very time-consuming and involved dark rooms and multiple baths of dangerous chemicals.

But she was far from a perfectionist in the printing process. Her prints were usually out of focus and often bore scratches, smudges – even fingerprints. It’s clear from her letters - some of them, with distinctive large loopy handwriting, are on show – that she was convinced of her own genius.  

She was also a child of her time and, although renowned for her portraits, they are uniformly dull set pieces, mostly infants or young women (usually friends, family or servants) posing as mythological or ancient biblical figures...never a smile or a hint of normalcy in sight. Of course, these were the darkest days of Queen Victoria when folk’s minds were focused on higher things, such as (allegedly) covering up piano legs to avoid giving temptation...she is a creature of her time, as I imagine most of us are of ours.  

Nevertheless, she did well to popularise the medium and her portraits of social luminaries such as Charles Dickens, Alfred Lord Tennyson and Robert Browning are historically significant (although Dickens did not admire all of her pictures of him). Some of the photographs of her family (e.g. her niece Julia Jackson) have an unusually direct and quite modern immediacy.      

Frankly, it was a pleasure to escape into the fresh air after being submerged for an hour in the cloying kitsch of JMC’s world view. Outside, three girls were playing brass instruments, the shimmering notes soaring into the sky.

Further on, the lawn outside the Science Museum had been transformed into an ice rink and carnival. The excited cries of children coloured the air and warmed the soul. Wonderful - and a world away from JMC's pickled infants. 

Hong Kong has Gone to the Dogs

When I first came to Hong Kong about 30 years ago, many things were different. For one thing, pet dogs were rare. People focused on working hard, bringing up children, looking after grandchildren, saving money for a bigger home and, if they had any spare time and money, and wanted a pet, they bought a fish or a bird.

Pet fish and pet birds have a long pedigree in Hong Kong. There is a Bird Market and a Goldfish Market where you can take your time and select the sort of pet that will fill your days with pleasure and make little demand on you.

...but, now, Hong Kong folk are buying dogs as pets.

Go out and you will see ladies with a Chihuahawa or a Skye terrier in tow – or even two of three of them. Sometimes the dogs are straining on leases, sometimes they are carried. Then there is the energetic young man or lady with one or two or even three large dogs, boxers, Labrador retrievers or Alsatians, all straining on a leash.

What is happening?

It gets worse.

A couple of times I saw women pushing what looked like prams or buggies and when I got closer I saw that the passenger was – a dog!

You don't believe me? Look.

 

 

They even have pet shops that sell these...dog carriages.

Hong Kong has definitely gone to the dogs.

But it is still a wonderful, beautiful, crazy place.

COME AND VISIT IT BEFORE THE DOGS TAKE IT OVER COMPLETELY!!!

 

..and, by the way, a Very Happy Christmas to you!  and if you are shopping in Central, Hong Kong, why not pop into the Immaculate Heart of Mary Chapel in the Catholic Centre (17th floor) to say thanks?

The Many Faces of Religion in Hong Kong

Hong Kong folk are great consumers: the latest high-profile brands are pursued with vigour, everyday prices are obsessed over, salaries and compensation are bandied about, the stock market and housing prices are followed closely, money-making opportunities are discussed at every turn...you might be forgiven for thinking that the religion of Hong Kong was making (more) money. 

The position is rather more complicated. Hong Kong people are materialistic and spiritual at the same time, seeing no dichotomy in jointly pursuing gods and gilt.

It looks like, based on statistics from the last ten years and statements by HK agencies, that about half the population of Hong Kong belong to recognised and organised religious traditions. (That compares with about 68% self-categorised followers in the UK).

Using a survey from 2010 quoted on Wikipedia, the numbers stack up as follows:

Buddhists 21%
Taoists 14
Protestants 7
Catholics 5
Moslems 3
Total 50%

Interior of Catholic Cathedral

There are 600 Buddhist and Taoist temples, 800 Christian churches, five mosques, three synagogues, one Hindi temple and one Sikh one in the Territory...so the faiths of the major population groups are well catered for.

What of the remainder of the population, the other 50% who do not follow an organised religion? It is believed that the vast majority of these follow what is described as 'traditional religious practise' or 'Chinese Folk Religion,' a blend or 'pick and mix' of elements of Confucianism, Taoism and Buddhism. Folk here are immensely practical and give more than a nod to superstition, so belief follows results.

Altar to Guan Yu in restaurant. Guan Yu is worshipped by restauranteurs, police...and triad members!

Public expressions of worship range from attendance at the old traditional temples such as Man Mo or the Anglican Cathedral, to the more recent Wong Tai Sin or the plethora of evangelical churches, to miniature shrines outside businesses and homes, to elaborate shrines in flats.

 





shrine outside business





shrine outside business

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

shrines outside ordinary home in Cheung Chau

On the streets, among the multitude of in-your-face salesmen (for mobile phones, phone plans, tours, copy watches and tailoring shops) there are clusters of earnest Jehovah's Witnesses mutely offering copies of the Watchtower, occasional Buddhist monks begging for alms, and other groups making occasional public appearances, including the outlawed-in-China Falun Gong sect.

Yes, possessions are vital but the world beyond is not overlooked.

Lunch in Cheung Chau

We took the 'ordinary' triple-deck ferry to Cheung Chau Island today for a seafood lunch. Cheung Chau is 14 Km southwest of Hong Kong Island and about 50 minutes ferry time away – and the ordinary adult one-way fare is a bargain HK$13.20 (just over £1 or US$1.50).

 

It was blowing a gusty force 4 as we set off and there were a few whitecaps although the sun shone and temperatures were a modest 12 or 13 Celsius (low 50s Fahrenheit). We passed the usual ferries and assorted small craft like the couple below.

Then we picked up speed, leaving the narrow confines of Victoria Harbour and entering the Western Approaches to the harbour.

 

Ahead we could see a line of ships against the horizon, larger ships that were unable to enter the harbour proper because of their deep draught, or which were anchored awaiting loading/unloading by smaller ships like the lighter barges. 

 

Curiously, off to the right there were what looked like dozens of lighters and tugs sheltering under the Tsing Ma Bridge, like chickens crowded under a hen. I guess they were waiting for business from the fleet of anchored ships. The Bridge is impressive, it was the second longest suspension bridge in the world when it was opened 18 years ago (now it's just the ninth-longest - but still quite a sight!).

  

Now we were among the anchored vessels; container ships, tankers, bulk and dangerous cargo ships.

 

 

 

We were lucky to see several lighters, with their attendant tugs, in the process of unloading one ship.

Similarly, a smaller ship was unloading cargo from an anchored ship. It looks like it was liquid, perhaps petroleum, or gas, or a dangerous cargo that was safer transferred away from habitation.

 

 

On we steamed, past more craft, including a fast ferry and a police launch speeding somewhere, past small steep islands covered in greenery.

Finally, after about 50 minutes we came to Cheung Chau. There were several boats anchored at the approaches to the harbour - including the inevitable police boat, this time a large one suitable for inter-island all-weather activity.

But, as might be expected, fishing vessels predominated, from high-prowed ocean-going trawlers to chunky local vessels. The harbour was crammed with vessels, many anchored together in rows. The island's economy is largely based on fishing and related business; ship-building, provisioning, fish curing and sale of fish products – although it has successfully branched out into tourism in recent years, particularly through the provision of holiday flats. The island was originally a refuge for pirates, that trade has fallen into disuse now...

We left the good ship Xin Chau moored to the harbour wall and went exploring.

The promenade or Praya facing the harbour is lined with small shops, restaurants, places renting holiday flats - and bicycles.

 

 

As far as the eye could see, there were dozens - possibly hundreds - of bicycles.

 

 

The streets are extremely narrow, often no more than paved tracks. Normal motor vehicles cannot operate here so the locals walk or cycle about or use special motorised carts, like the motorised tractors that used to be popular in China 30 years ago, like the one below.

There are even mini vehicles for the emergency services, small fire engines, miniature ambulances and tiny police cars – Noddy would be pleased!

Next stop - lunch! We spent quite a while reviewing the menus outside the restaurants, inspecting the tanks of fresh fish and crustaceans, and then selected a set menu that contained most of the goodies we were looking for, and supplemented it with a couple of extra dishes.

 

In sum, we ordered scallops, razor clams, abalone with Chinese lettuce, fried salmon, geoduck, lobster and crab dishes – and a separate dish of salty-fish rice from a traditional restaurant.

 

 

After lunch we went for a walk to work off the effects. First, along the seafront where a woman was setting out fish steaks to dry in the sun, then further along where an elderly fisherman was shelling prawns and then placing trays of the flesh to dry in the sun.

Then, we set through the narrow lanes, past small higgledy-piggedly houses and shops built into the side of the hill overlooking the harbour. Up and up we climbed at an angle of maybe forty-five degrees or more following the cement tracks that serve for roadways until we reached the summit of the hill and saw glimpses of the sparkling blue South China Sea spread all around us.

We passed what looked like an abandoned squatter camp, the tiny shacks built from driftwood, tree branches and spare scraps of lumber. It was clearly an official camp because there was a board with metal postboxes numbered for each houses. One small garden had a papaya tree growing in it with bunches of fruit.

 

On we went, and round a corner was the perfect view. Large expensive villas on a headland overlooked the sparking South China Sea. Beautiful...

A little footsore, we headed down the hill to the harbour and the ferry home.

 

Time for one last bit of nauticalia on the way back. I tried to spot the different Cardinal navigation buoys...

 

EAST

NORTH

SOUTH

WEST

and, of course, SAFE WATER