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Lurking with lunatics
30/05/2004 10:30 pmIz is feeling so utterly uninspired today. Seems to be triggered by the sight of a screen and keyboard. The old green cells just seem to be having a very grey day indeed.
It turned out to be the last of the crisp and crunchy cold days that have been so delightful. The big question of where to go to watch the sunset turned out not to be an issue at all. There wasn't one to be seen and it was also raining.
Today was the first grand tour of the former lunatic asylum that Iz likes to call St Brutus. The tour was led by the architect who was the ringleader in restoring it to its former gothic glory in the face of much doubt and cynicism by the local council who didn't want to spend money on the place but knock it down instead as they are so so good at doing in Dursleyville.
They were given a small corner to prove they could do their stuff and only then was more support forthcoming. It turned out to be an advantage having more than nine months without money because it meant they didn't approach the job like a bull at a gate but took their time and did their research and found themselves quite a few retired tradesmen in their 80's who had the relevant expertise and were prepared to contribute way above and beyond the call of duty. Iz especially liked the story of the carpenter in his seventies who had dreamed for a long time of getting to make a good old fashioned wooden stairways but had retired having given up hope of ever landing such a big project. They got him on board but needed modifications to conform with more recent standards for buildings open to the general public. The originals were very narrow and steep.
They wanted to replace the wood shingled roofs which had been leaking like crazy but the quantities they needed were so enormous and would take so long to acquire that they decided to use asbestos instead. Not such a good idea so it turns out after all.
But what Iz most wanted to know was the ages of the plane trees in the courtyard. Was most shocked to hear that they were planted in 1969! They are even younger than Iz. So much for the Izzie fantasy of ancient trees there for centuries. All the original trees had been cut down to make way for a road and a public swimming pool just across from the new road.
But walking from one part of the buildings to another, most of which is either part of the art galleries or museum, Iz came across a gorgeous collection of old gramophones and cameras and some totally kitsch and corny 1950s' fashion televisions. Iz must make her way back there and drag along the ma and pa who just adore drooling over old gramophones, radios and antiques in general.
Last time the Iz seen a collection that good was back in the early 1990's in the Durmieland days. That was also in a museum. And since much of this stuff was from the dark Nazi days of the 1930's a lot of the radios only had one channel of course. If you got dobbed in for having a radio that did not conform to those stringent standards - especially one tuneable to BBC, you were quite likely to go missing in the middle of the night and never be seen again.
The really creepy and fascinating things was being able to hear those old Hitler rants in the museum because they kept recordings of them.
Museums with lots of everyday objects are just so interesting - especially when the rooms are done up in the style of a certain period. It makes it so much more real and easy to imagine.
The one room that always freaks the museum visitors out is the padded cell. Only one bit of padding remains. The rest is a dull dark grey with a slab floor and tiny window with bars. There is a miserable steel framed and very low bed and a bucket in the corner and nothing more. Iz went in for a peek and was half expecting to see Sirius Black in there! It looks so so like the cell that Iz has seen in the trailers. Iz must really try to find a picture of the place to post for folks to see. It's just so so dark, gloomy, miserable and spooky. If you weren't mad when you went in, you certainly would be by the time they let you out - that's IF they let you out;)
Iz will be back again on Wednesday and Thursday for another fix of doom and gloom.
It turned out to be the last of the crisp and crunchy cold days that have been so delightful. The big question of where to go to watch the sunset turned out not to be an issue at all. There wasn't one to be seen and it was also raining.
Today was the first grand tour of the former lunatic asylum that Iz likes to call St Brutus. The tour was led by the architect who was the ringleader in restoring it to its former gothic glory in the face of much doubt and cynicism by the local council who didn't want to spend money on the place but knock it down instead as they are so so good at doing in Dursleyville.
They were given a small corner to prove they could do their stuff and only then was more support forthcoming. It turned out to be an advantage having more than nine months without money because it meant they didn't approach the job like a bull at a gate but took their time and did their research and found themselves quite a few retired tradesmen in their 80's who had the relevant expertise and were prepared to contribute way above and beyond the call of duty. Iz especially liked the story of the carpenter in his seventies who had dreamed for a long time of getting to make a good old fashioned wooden stairways but had retired having given up hope of ever landing such a big project. They got him on board but needed modifications to conform with more recent standards for buildings open to the general public. The originals were very narrow and steep.
They wanted to replace the wood shingled roofs which had been leaking like crazy but the quantities they needed were so enormous and would take so long to acquire that they decided to use asbestos instead. Not such a good idea so it turns out after all.
But what Iz most wanted to know was the ages of the plane trees in the courtyard. Was most shocked to hear that they were planted in 1969! They are even younger than Iz. So much for the Izzie fantasy of ancient trees there for centuries. All the original trees had been cut down to make way for a road and a public swimming pool just across from the new road.
But walking from one part of the buildings to another, most of which is either part of the art galleries or museum, Iz came across a gorgeous collection of old gramophones and cameras and some totally kitsch and corny 1950s' fashion televisions. Iz must make her way back there and drag along the ma and pa who just adore drooling over old gramophones, radios and antiques in general.
Last time the Iz seen a collection that good was back in the early 1990's in the Durmieland days. That was also in a museum. And since much of this stuff was from the dark Nazi days of the 1930's a lot of the radios only had one channel of course. If you got dobbed in for having a radio that did not conform to those stringent standards - especially one tuneable to BBC, you were quite likely to go missing in the middle of the night and never be seen again.
The really creepy and fascinating things was being able to hear those old Hitler rants in the museum because they kept recordings of them.
Museums with lots of everyday objects are just so interesting - especially when the rooms are done up in the style of a certain period. It makes it so much more real and easy to imagine.
The one room that always freaks the museum visitors out is the padded cell. Only one bit of padding remains. The rest is a dull dark grey with a slab floor and tiny window with bars. There is a miserable steel framed and very low bed and a bucket in the corner and nothing more. Iz went in for a peek and was half expecting to see Sirius Black in there! It looks so so like the cell that Iz has seen in the trailers. Iz must really try to find a picture of the place to post for folks to see. It's just so so dark, gloomy, miserable and spooky. If you weren't mad when you went in, you certainly would be by the time they let you out - that's IF they let you out;)
Iz will be back again on Wednesday and Thursday for another fix of doom and gloom.
