Miss Dudin Brown Lives On

My father and I visited north London in 2008 to check out what King's College London's accommodation was like – the two cheapest options being the halls in Hampstead and near Denmark Hill in the south.  You'd be surprised by the difference in location.  Hampstead is a leafy suburb in the north of London with opulent houses and a rich history of chattering artists, politicians, actors, musicians and intelligentsia, while Denmark Hill, in the south, is surrounded by some areas which would send a shiver down your spine.  Naturally, I settled on Hampstead. 

Just like the north-south divide in the city, the halls had a similar divide.  On the northern side are the beautiful Victorian red-brick buildings, while on the southern side there are some cheaply-made travesties which most probably date back to the 70s.  The northern side's edifices were created in 1882 and were used to prepare young ladies for education at London universities – in a similar style to those at Oxbridge – although the College had a particularly evangelical edge.  This was all due to its 'foundress', Ann Dudin Brown (a Victorian miniature, right). 

I only found this out as my building in halls was named after the missioner and evangelist.  She inherited a great wealth from her parents and wished to share this with those who shared her beliefs.  The story makes exciting reading, as many of her female students became missionaries and served the church.  Even Brown didn't fail to note its success, writing that 'of all my enterprises, Westfield has proved the most satisfactory'.  She never married and never bought a house, choosing instead to devote her life and wealth to others – a wonderful example of how God doesn't expect everyone to get married and how he can use single people in remarkable ways. 

Let's flash forward to the twenty-first century.  The buildings are now in the hands of King's College, London and there is no real Christian ethos left in the halls of residence, other than the church which lies next door.  I was surprised one morning, while sitting on the loo at church, to find a familiar name inscribed in the stone wall – Ann Dudin Brown.  It turns out that the church that I have been attending for the last two years was the church which she had helped to build.  I'm not sure whether St Luke's (left) has been 'evangelical' for the last century, but she was an evangelical Anglican, and so I'm sure she'd be happy that the church continues to love the good news.  No doubt, the students which attended her college attended this church, and the tradition (in some sorts) continues to this day.  Brown's funeral was held at St Luke's in 1917 and she was buried in Hampstead cemetery. 

St Luke's is carrying her educative mantle in the present day.  It's exciting to know that buildings which she founded will be used for education once more, as St Luke's has proposed to create one of England's first free schools (the rest of Britain has not adopted the policy).  If the school gets the go-ahead, then it will be for people with a faith or none.  It will be exciting for the church to be involved in the creation of a new school with a distinctive Christian ethos. 

Seeds sown a century ago, can be used by God today. 

To read more about St Luke's free school plans, you can read an article at the BBC News web site.  If you'd like to find out more about Ann Dudin Brown, then you can find a short biography at the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (although you will need to have a subscription or Athens password). 

The Tale About the One-Eyed Sculptor

Scrap that, I meant to say the two-eyed sculptor.  He has one eye in the mind of my neighbour Agnes.

I now live in a flat on Finchley Road, situated opposite a Sainsbury's, Wetherspoons and a VUE Cinema.  One of the finer qualities is our Hungarian neighbour, Agnes, who could be described with a shedload of different superlatives.  We usually see her when the music's playing too loud and she wants to complain about the noise, but we also have the odd bit of banter – about my eye.

In case you didn't know, I have an eye condition called glaucoma, which means that there is a risk of increased pressure in my eyes.  If the pressure isn't kept at a certain level then there is risk of sight loss – as it is, the sight in my right eye is not great.  On first impression, many hazard a guess as to how much I can actually see in the "bad" eye, and they're often surprised to find that I have enough sight to enjoy a 3D film without me thinking it's in 2D – but Agnes is surprised to find out that it's not made of glass.  She still believes that it's not organic and that the original one is in a tip, as if I'm deliberately trying to deceive her.

This week, she kindly invited me to go along to a sculptor's exhibit at the Air Gallery, which is close to Buckingham Palace.  She teaches children and adults ear training in a similar manner to that of Béla Bartók, and so has a wide variety of arty friends who invite her to different events.  David Begbie, a world-class sculptor, kindly invited Agnes and a guest to attend an opening of a new exhibition, and as he only has one eye, she thought it would be great inspiration for me to come along and meet him.

I tumbled in off the street in a suit to be greeted by rich pursuers of new art, sipping on expensive wine and snacking on nibbles being paraded around the room.  I managed to bumble my way through to Agnes who was chatting to a smartly-dressed lady.  The lady had clearly had a little too much to drink as she couldn't button her mouth – for around five minutes I couldn't get a word in.  She admitted that Agnes gave her a knowing smile and approached her as though she'd known her all her life, even though she'd never met her.  When I let loose that I was a musician, I received a five-minute pleasant speech on how wonderful it is to follow one's hobby for a living.  Eventually, she was led out of the Gallery by her husband, to attend another event.

Agnes was in high spirits, showing me the models of metallic mesh which were littered throughout the room as shrines to the female form – one male form was in the middle as a rebuttal to any cries of sexism, most likely a self-portrait.  I was told that if David Begbie could pull this kind of stuff out of the hat, then I certainly couldn't complain about the poor lighting on the stairs leading up to the flat again.  His work was most impressive in the detail: the way in which he subtly molds the metal into a convincing human form. 

"Unuud" (2008) is made of steelmesh and costs £23,900.01 (make sure to bring the one pence). 

She introduced me to the artist and pointed out that I also had one eye, to which Begbie responded, 'No, I have two eyes' – he proceeded to tell me how beautiful my eye was.  I offered him the opportunity to sculpt it into wire mesh, but he declined (I didn't actually have the nerve – no pun intended).  He was very pleasant and was more than willing to converse about his work.  My neighbour explained to him about how wonderful it was to know that people with eye conditions could bypass their condition to create wonderful works.  And how right she was – only last week, I was at RNIB (the Royal National Institute of the Blind) Judd Street taking part in a composition course with blind and partially-sighted composers.  It was fascinating to watch blind musicians writing music in braille and dictating their compositions to a sighted person to transform it into written notation for the performers.  Begbie said that it had aided his success, as he was always remembered for his work and for his condition.

The creative arts are scattered with individuals who have worked with their conditions to achieve great success – perhaps the most famous being Beethoven, who wrote some of the greatest music in the Western world, despite gradually becoming deaf during his twenties.  With the invention of braille in the nineteenth century, it's exciting to know that blind musicians (often with keener ears than sighted folk) can now create in a way that they couldn't previously.

You can check out some more of David Begbie's works at the Air Gallery from the 9th of August or visit http://www.davidbegbie.com/index.cfm/main.view/gallerydifferent.  To read more about my kind neighbour, Agnes Kory, and her work, please visit http://www.bbcm.co.uk/.  Please support the wonderful work that the RNIB do with partially-sighted and blind musicians, by visiting their web site at http://www.rnib.org.uk/.  The course I went on was run in partnership with the Handel House Museum. 

The Baffled Brit

Our general election has been and gone – we're now firmly in 'hung parliament' territory.  Being a tweenager of the iPod generation, this is all rather new, and quite exciting.  Well, that's what I thought before the general election.  The hullabaloo of the campaign trail gets the majority of the population chattering about who's who and what's what: not just the 'chattering class' in good ole Hampy'; while the aftermath has left us all a little dazed and confused.  How do the Germans cope? 

The whole campaign has been rather confusing.  Firstly, none of the parties has been up front about the cuts that need to be made.  We all assume that the Tories will be harsh, and that's why big business is behind them, as they know that the markets will be more confident under a budget slashing government.  While we predict that Labour and the Liberal Democrats would be more cautious, not wanting to upset the public sector and the working to middle classes.  Naturally, amid all of the smoke and mirrors, the public wasn't certain who to side with.

Perhaps the 'presidential' election debates didn't help.  One bonus was that they quashed the nationalists in Wales and Scotland, leading Alex Salmond (in a novel 'Celtic bloc') to beg the BBC for a place in what was clearly a British debate.  For goodness sake, if they were going to allow the SNP and Plaid Cymru a podium then they'd have to have accepted the English Democrats too (heaven forbid).  While I disliked the debates because they placed a little too much emphasis on the leader of the party rather than the cross-party variations, they did engage the public in discussion and often heated debate. 

Oh, did you see Cameron getting followed around by the chicken from the Daily Mail?  For days after that, I couldn't remember what came first – the chicken or the Clegg.  I'm surprised that Rupert Murdoch hasn't hired me yet.  I came up with another (subjective, I know) witty headline: 'Brown begs Duffy for mercy'.  Get it? 

Moving on …  One of the highlights of the campaign had to be the moment Boris Johnson declared devolution for London, without Conservative headquarters' prior approval.  His shopping list of ideal projects to ping-pong around the London political sphere was eventually approved (over the course of the morning), as Tory HQ knew that it couldn't back down in the middle of a concerted campaign.  Naturally, Boris's wit and charm with Londoners won him approval, despite this blundering performance.  Boris and Cameron's partnership are more similar to Blair and Ken Livingstone's relationship than we could have ever assumed.

It will be exciting to see what transpires over the coming weeks.  I doubt that the Tories will team up with the Lib Dems – at least, I cannot imagine them being fully compatible in government.  The 'yellows' will want electoral reform – not another Jenkins Commission – and this is something which the Tories will not want to bring about, in the knowledge that we'd be unlikely to have another Tory government for years to come.  I personally think that it would bring a balance between the left and the right, providing checks and balances for one another on key budget-cutting legislation.  The Lib Dems would be concerned about where the cuts fall, and how these will affect the vulnerable; while the Tories will be able to ensure that business gets what it needs.  A Lab-Lib coalition may be too sweet and nice – and this is coming from a traditional Labour voter.  If Labour want to re-energise their mission to get back into government, then Gordon may need to leave Number 10, to provide a catalyst for coalition talks with the Lib Dems.

Only time and tired David Dimbleby will tell …