Which is rather unfortunate, as I lead a stressful life. Thus I value things that evoke calm: long, quiet dinners at good restaurants; baroque music; Palladian architecture. Therefore it was with great joy and mellow, deep breathing that I greeted the Royal Academy's latest exhibition on Andrea Palladio, probably my favourite architect of all time.
Palladio lived in the north of Italy in the mid 16th century and he is the man most responsible for re-discovering the architecture of Greece and Rome, then re-interpreting it as a modern style. He is the father of Renaissance and neoclassical architecture and the grandfather of lofty designs through the ensuing ages. From English country houses to Jefferson's Monticello to 19th century governmental buildings to Washington's White House, we live in a Palladian world. Want something that's august and dignified, grand yet restrained, livable yet sophisticated? Get out the Palladian pattern book and go crazy.
As long as I can remember ... probably long before I was aware of who Palladio was ... I have found his buildings soothing. The gentle arches, stately columns, open spaces, smooth flow of rooms and ruthless symmetry convey a magnificent sense of calm. You don't get surprised much with Palladio, you get a reassuring architectural massage to the intellect.
Which isn't to take away from the man's brilliance. There's a vast variety in his work, from farming villas to churches to government buildings and theatres. He displayed endless genius adapting old buildings to his new styles and fitting grand designs on oddly-shaped plots.The Royal Academy takes a logical approach, presenting an exhibition that is dominated by architectural models. These are all borrowed from the Museo Palladio in Vicenza which, one assumes, must be temporarily shut down with this much of its treasure on show in London. Almost all of his most famous buildings are here, and it's great fun to peak into the corners and windows of these magnificent doll's houses. The models are admirably backed up by paintings, prints and drawings of the buildings and floor plans.
I was delighted, not only because I was surrounded by a style I love, but because so many of the models were of buildings I had seen on past holidays, and it was fun to revisit them. Even I, however, was getting a bit bored by the third room. The uniformity that makes this style so comforting also makes it quite predictable. There weren't many surprises or revelations here beyond Palladio's designs for the Rialto Bridge, which turn out to be vastly inferior to the quirky version you see today.
In order to make this show more than a procession of pleasing, regular facades, it needed better commentary. Not only about Palladio's inspiration, but about his clients. Architecture, after all, is brought to life by the people who built it and the lives lived within it. The RA's commentary, sadly, was bone dry and loftily academic. I have to believe that anyone who doesn't start with a love of the man and his work would be bored to tears very quickly.
Two other misfires. First, of all the buildings profiled his greatest in my opinion ... the Teatro Olympico ... was given short shrift. As the first modern indoor theatre, it is one of the most influential buildings in the world and is breath-takingly beautiful. But you didn't get much of a sense of that here. Second, and more surprising, is the lack of exploration of Palladio's legacy on the English country house. English architects were mad for the guy. Some would say slavish imitators. The treasure houses of empire that tourists flock through each year are inspired directly by Palladio. There could have been a whole second half of the exhibition that explored this rich legacy and linked the visiting show to the soul of the country in which it was displayed. But aside from a few photos, nothing.
I may return to do the show again with the audio tour, which I suspect will give me more of the context and the tales that I want. But I can't help feeling that most people, unless they are as big an architecture fan as me, will be a bit disappointed by this show.
Not nearly as disappointed, I suspect, as I was with dinner following at the Texas Embassy Cantina. This place has, for years, been the only dependable spot in London for proper Tex Mex and great margaritas. It was actually founded by a guy from Dallas who was horrified at how little Mexican food he could find here. He built a place that looked exactly like a big Texas restaurant and important some of the basic food, like gloopy yellow cheese, so the food would taste authentic. When I worked at resolutely Texan EDS, executives used to drive all the way into town on Friday night to get a taste of home. It's always been reliable, tasty, moderately priced and, with its location just to the west of Trafalgar Square behind the Canadian embassy, hugely convenient.Sadly, the old magic is gone. The service was absolutely atrocious. We had to beg for every item, from drinks to food orders to more drinks to the bill. Requests frequently had to be made twice as we were forgotten. The majority of the servers were eastern European. Not a problem normally (they populate most London restaurants) but it really bothered me here, where waiters always used to be American or Canadian and you could count on chipper, cheerful and fast service. It was all part of the atmosphere.
The margaritas have shrunk drastically and, given that this is one of the few places in London that uses a lot of ice, don't actually have much drink in them. The food, when it arrived, wasn't as piping hot as it should have been. Though tasty, it lacked the range of spices and the smoky flavours that used to make what was on the plates "proper" Tex Mex. I'd bet several rounds of their overpriced 'ritas that they no longer go to the extra expense of importing that Monterrey Jack cheese.
I left the Embassy making three resolutions. One. I will not be coming back here again. Two. I must find another Mexican option in this town. Three. I will be heading for the El Burrito Junior taco stand very soon after arriving in LA to remind my tastebuds of what they should have been appreciating.
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