Going up to town from Seaford is relatively easy, letting the train take the strain. There are only three direct trains a day though, and the last of these gets in to town at 10.00. As my meeting wasn’t until mid afternoon I thought I would pop into the Tate. Not the modern bit , which seems to me to be mainly froth, but the Tate Britain, the original Tate that I first visited in 1967.
The Tate has followed various foibles of various Keepers through deep green walls etc., but the latest incarnation for the first time respects the original building, and the architect and interior designer have allowed it to speak, holding their egos in check with quite splendid results. The is a lovely building and the subtle paint colours used allow its form to sing, whilst the modern alterations don’t hide but are done with great sensitivity yet power. The results are a delight.
It is not just the Friends that gain a new room, although it is not really a room, more seats along the sides of a corridor, and in that respect not quite as functional as previously although roomier, but the whole circulation area that gains a feeling of space and grace. Maybe it was because I was early on a weekday morning and there weren’t many people around but the ground floor around the side entrance seemed a calm oasis, with corridors to the library and the restaurant looking the part as the areas serving the premier gallery of 20th Century art in Europe.
