A polymath?

Having exhibited portraits at The National Portrait Gallery, Bob Dylan (yes, the singer) is now showing his iron sculptures and graphics at The Halycon Gallery in New Bond Street. What a polymath!
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Adding today's pictures, let me begin with the skyline of Acton illustrating London's multiculturalism:

 I took a few pictures as I was walking through the residential area of Acton, heading for Acton Town Station. The blue sky may suggest that it was warm, but the truth was contrary. Anyway, what to expect in mid-November?

 When I finally got to the station, I was still listening to a friend on the phone which explains why a few picture opportunities were missed if any of you, Dear Readers happens to be familiar with the area.

Hence, the next picture shows the point where I emerged from the tube:

Looks like the clever advertisers have discovered a way to display more of the boring stuff, as if the facade they grabbed the hold of long ago was not enough...

 This equestrian statue is properly wrapped up for the climate!

Canada House is all beaming with pride of their Nobel laureate:

 Having photographed the maple leaf flag and the blue cockerel, I hurried inside the Sainsbury Wing of The National Gallery and thankful for the warmth and working lifts followed the signs for Saints Alive, an exhibition of most unusual kinetic sculptures from recycled materials by Michael Landy, an artist in residence. The twenty-minute film on the artist and his project was instrumental for me to better understand his idea. Yes, I found it all interesting and I sincerely admire Mr Landy's talent, creativity and hard work, but I must say that I didn't feel at ease near these terrifying scenes of torture. How far we moved away from the qualities appreciated and glorified in the Medieval society.... Just as well we did. And still, there is so much suffering around, so often unnecessary...
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On the way out I looked at an exquisite painting of Danae by the Viennese Modernist artist Egon Schiele. In the 1990s an American friend in the Windy City introduced me to the works of this lesser known than his contemporary mentor artist, Gustav Klimt. Schiele died at 28,three days after his wife. They both fell victims to the Spanish flu pandemic. The dreadful flu killed around 20 000 000 people in Europe just catching a breath after The First World War...
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Next I checked out Vincent Van Gogh's Crabs and 'walked out gently into that good night',. Well, the night wasn't bad, nor was it the night from Dylan Thomas' verse addressed to his late father.
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Would it be yet another feature of the London countdown to Christmas????

This baby is left in front of St Martin in the Fields Church overlooking Trafalgar Square and The National Gallery.

 Nowadays you enter St Martin's crypt through a separate entrance and arrive at a souvenir shop. I descended there in hope to see the proposals for the next sculpture to be exhibited atop the fourth plinth in Trafalgar Square. Unfortunately, I missed the chance. They had been on display till last Sunday. The young man at the information desk made the effort and dug for a brochure with pictures and we briefly discussed the proposals. In the time due we will learn which one will replace the blue Rooster.
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Being in the crypt, I made my way through the gallery and across the restaurant serving food on the garvestones.

The crypt restaurant at St Martin in the Fields is where you can eat with the dead...

 Not being hungry, I left the crypt and crossed the street again to enter The National Portrait Gallery and see Bob Dylan's portraits on show. This morning I mentioned him and his artistic output currently on show in London. It was long and many pictures ago, so you may like to scroll up. ;-)

Well, I needed to go through the souvenir shop and the honey made by the gallery bees caught my eye:

I would like one of my very special friends to see this portrait. To me it looks like him!

It was most interesting to see the portraits by Jonathan Yeo and to read about him.

I walked towards the entrance to the current ticketed exhibition. The museum was about to close, but there was still time for me to watch a short introductory film and rest my legs half-sitting on the most uncomfortable contraption constantly preventing myself from sliding down onto the floor. Congratulations to the designer!  No picture provided, sorry!
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As I walked our the night was even darker and colder and somehow I couldn't find enough energy to head for the event that brought me to the West End in the first place. Can you believe that, oh Dear Ardent Reader?

See the tartan-clad guy in the middle? Imagine the noise he was producing...

Below you can (hopefully) enjoy the changing hues of the fountain in the peacefully named square with a towering column

Sherlock Holmes Pub a short walk from the square in question. I usually pass it on the way from The British Council events for teachers. You know, CPD...

Good night!