With this being a Sunday, Smithfield Market isn’t trading today.
But you can still walk through the impressive central passageway, its elegant ironwork painted in vivid pink and purple, the dramatic bright colours like those of Hockney’s recent landscapes.
It would be good to return here early on a weekday morning when the market is in full flow, though even when empty this place has a lot of character and atmosphere.
A minute away from Smithfield Market there is a memorial to Scottish patriot William Wallace, who met his gruesome end here in August 1305 when he was hanged, drawn and quartered.
The memorial is discreet and understated.
I was expecting something more prominent, given the historical significance of the spot.
But I suppose it’s natural for Wallace to be celebrated more in his native land of Scotland than down here in the heart of London, England.
For an early lunch I venture into the Rising Sun, an old-fashioned pub located on a corner site with a couple of attractive white-brick floors above it.
The landlady is friendly, and the Beef Stout Pudding I have is pretty good.
But I don’t linger long because at a nearby table there is a loudmouth holding court, the kind of person who wants the whole place to be his audience.
So I quickly pay the bill and set off along Long Lane to the Barbican cinema.
The Barbican’s appearance certainly lives up to its negative reputation.
What a hideous building.
Its brutalist architecture is repellent and once you are inside, it’s very hard to find your way around.
Just as I am beginning to curse the place, a helpful employee notices that I am looking lost.
He kindly points out how to get to Cinema 1 when I tell him that that’s what I am looking for.
This encounter softens my hostility to this unappealing place; the employee is helpful and friendly, a welcome antidote to the bleak ugliness of the building.
When I eventually find Cinema 1, my mood continues to mellow as that auditorium is superb.
Its comfortable seats, the steep sloping that ensures a good view no matter who sits in front of you, and the pervasive classy atmosphere combine to dissolve the stress of struggling through the rest of the building complex to get here.
I settle into seat F25 to enjoy René Clair’s 1927 silent film ‘An Italian Straw Hat’, with live musical accompaniment by Andrew Youdell on piano.
The film turns out to be absolutely superb.
René Clair’s direction keeps the story in ‘An Italian Straw Hat’ moving along smoothly, with no dull sagging phases that you get when a film is in the hands of a lesser talent.
All the cast are great, especially Albert Préjean in the lead role of Ferdinand, the groom.
Préjean has a subtly commanding presence. He almost dances his way through this performance, always witty, always sparkling.
‘An Italian Straw Hat’ is a comedy of manners. It’s delivered with a smattering of slapstick but mainly achieves its effect through the intensely detailed observations of individual behaviour.
The film is entrancing.
It is very funny, replete with laugh-out-loud moments.
Andrew Youdell’s live piano accompaniment is exquisite and contributes hugely to the film experience.
When ‘An Italian Straw Hat’ ends, there is delighted applause from the audience.
A great film, in a great cinema, with great musical accompaniment.
I feel privileged to have been here to see it.
There is something magical about these classic old silent films.
The style of acting is utterly different from today, the lack of sound technology back then forcing the performers to communicate emotions through marvellously vivid facial expressions rather than through spoken dialogue.
Feeling exhilarated after the film, I manage to extricate myself from the Barbican’s brutalist embrace.
Outside, I walk briskly to Mabel’s Tavern, a good traditional pub just off Euston Road.
I’d arranged to meet a friend here who I hadn’t seen for a while.
We start off with a pint each of Spitfire, an English pale ale that is decent enough but not quite good enough to merit a second pint.
We move on to Kent’s Best, a refreshing English bitter that is much more inspiring, so we have three pints of that before calling it a night.
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