An Afternoon at The Museum
Greetings from Hope the blue whale
With a million and one things to do on Tuesday, I decided to go to the Natural History Museum. The journey took just under an hour to Kensington - and that’s only one way, just under seven miles. It never fails to amaze me how slow travelling in London is.
Despite the mountain of tasks I had to complete, going was important. It was the final chance I had to see the Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibition before it closed. I have absolutely no excuse for leaving it to the very last day. It’s been open for the last eight months. Yet, I do seem to like making things more difficult for myself by adding a sprinkling of pressure to nearly everything I do. I did the same last year, too. Hopefully, the next one breaks the cycle.
This year is the 60th anniversary of the first competition. On my first visit, I was on the cusp of 18. The trip was arranged for my Art History A-level class. We did not study wildlife or wildlife photography, so I’m struggling to remember why we went at all. But I don’t remember having the usual resistance I’ve remembered having towards the set and enforced topics of study at school. I was fascinated from the get-go.
On the same trip, I’m pretty sure we also visited the V&A, which is probably… (Oh, I do hate to be definitive) My favourite museum. Could that have been my first visit? Was it love at first sight? While on a school trip? How uncharacteristic of me.
As a child, we took trips to the Science Museum often and to the Natural History Museum as well. Visiting the Science Museum later as an adult doesn’t have the same impact. But I’m not sure we ever went to the V&A.
I am obsessed with the period rooms they have installed. It’s so immersive that it almost becomes an entire sensory experience. The smell of old wood, all the textures - tapestries and woven fabrics.
No such chance of a visit this time because I barely even had time for the one museum.
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Despite living in London for over ten years, I still find myself disorientated visiting parts of the city I’m less familiar with. And I love it. The whole point of moving to London in the first place and picking a university here was because I wanted excess. I wanted a never-ending opportunity to discover new things and that’s what I’ve continued to find a decade later.
The scale of the building is a prelude to the wonders inside. I make sure to appreciate its beauty and I mourn a little for the evolution of architecture and the minimalist modern designs that have stripped many buildings of having the same impact.
Luckily, I picked a quiet day. I hate not being able to move around an exhibition freely. It’s nice for everyone to go at their own pace without being in each other's way. A smaller group of people is more intimate. We share in our collective awe. The joy, wonder, or even disgust - some photos captivate the ferocity of nature in all its (bloody) glory.
There was a man sitting on a stool in front of a photo, drawing something they had clearly felt connected to. I tried not to pry, but I walked very slowly around him to get a little look. He’d written something underneath and I wondered if it was a message for a loved one.
I discovered things I never knew existed. Broadnosed pipefish, lampreys and crested hornsharks. The devastating human impact on some animals and ecosystems was on display too. Photos of whales caught in fishing gear, and the plastic swallowed by birds.
I left so glad that I’d made the effort to go. Was that really so hard? Why do I dawdle and idle so often, leaving things to the very last minute?
There are lots of other exhibitions and things on this summer that I have noted down. I hope I can carve out the time and commit to getting myself there, appeasing the little creative fairy in my brain.
The Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibition closes this weekend, so you have until 29th June if you want to visit. The exhibition will likely reopen again in October with entries for 2025.
