King's Lynn and Around: The Wash & Castle Rising

A Huge Mudflat, a Unique Castle and a Good Dinner

King's Lynn, Where and Why

Norfolk

King's Lynn & W Norfolk

Our first visit to England’s most easterly bulge was a brief camping tour of Suffolk and Norfolk in May 1980. It was also our last visit - until this week. After the cancellation of our February trip to Costa Rica, we felt we had been nowhere for ages, and were desperate to go somewhere so perhaps a Travelzoo short break in Kings Lynn would fill the void – it was a town neither of us had visited before.

Norfolk - and (inset) the county's position within England
The many pins are the work of Tour Norfolk from whom I have borrowed the map

Snettisham

We set off on Wednesday morning on a journey of less than 140 miles that would take well over three hours, there being no fast, nor even particularly direct route from north Staffs to north Norfolk.

We drove round Kings Lynn, continuing up the A149 towards Hunstanton (pronounced Hunston), crossed the Queen’s Sandringham Estate and stopped at Snettisham just off the main road in search of beer and a sandwich.

Snettisham

The Queen Victoria dealt with our needs with less drama than its Walford namesake, then we had a look round the village with its mellow brickwork and occasionally eccentric architecture.

Snettisham

Two ‘hoards’ have been found nearby. The Snettisham Hoard of precious metal, hidden around 70 BCE was discovered piecemeal between 1948 and 1973, and the Snettisham Jeweller’s Hoard, of Romano-British jewellery, hidden around 150 CE, was found in 1985. Both are now in the British Museum.

The Wash

As an eleven-year-old map nerd, I found The Wash a strange and intriguing place; King John had lost his treasure in something that looked too big and too rectangular to be real. I had never been there, or anywhere near, but I noted it down for the future.

The future was in no great rush, so it was sixty years later that we drove to Snettisham Beach. The long straight road was lined with bright yellow broom, while the fields were purple with lavender. The lavender give way to static caravans as we neared the beach, clearly many visitors are expected but not in April and not on a day as cold as this. We parked in a vast empty car park and climbed the gravel bank that defends it from flooding - and the biting wind - to catch our first sight of The Wash.

The was little to see. The tide was out and the inland half appeared devoid of water, so we stared across a mudflat at the low-lying coast of Lincolnshire some 25km away.

The Wash - looking across to Lincolnshire

Scooped out at the end of the last ice-age, The Wash is the combined estuary of the Rivers Witham, Welland, Nene and Great Ouse. Deep water channels run between the mudbanks, most importantly to Kings Lynn, a major port when it was at the mouth of the Great Ouse and ships were small and wooden, and to the River Nene and the port of Wisbech. Over the centuries the size and shape of the estuary have changed, sedimentation and land reclamation have decreased its area, though the recent breaching of the sea wall at Freiston has created an increased area of salt marsh as a natural flood defence and important habitat for wading birds.

Snettisham Beach, not the place for bucket and spade, dip in the sea beach holiday

The Royal Society for the Protection of Birds has a reserve at Snettisham Beach and two of their employees walked past as I was staring out to sea through our binoculars. “What can you see?” one of them asked. “Avocets,” I replied with (some) confidence. “Nice,” she said and told us they were going to check on the ringed plovers, nesting a little way to the north.

Lynne spotted some ducks waddling about where mud and water meet, we decided they were Eiders. Swooping around us were black-headed gulls. They were easy to recognise as they actually had black heads, they have only a black spot outside the breeding season.

When the wind had brought sufficient tears to our eyes, we decided it was time to move on.

Castle Rising

On the way back to Kings Lynn we passed Castle Rising, a village sitting behind a rather odd castle of the same name.

Castle rising behind its earthwork

The Motte-and-Bailey castle originated in Northern France in the 10th century and spread quickly across north-western Europe, being introduced into Great Britain and then Ireland by the Normans. The idea was simple, you built a motte, a heavily defended wooden keep, usually on a mound and protected the surrounding area, the bailey, with a raised earthwork and ditch.

The next development was to rebuild the keep in stone, and then, very often in the early 13th century, to surround the bailey with a curtain wall instead of an earthwork and replace the external ditch with a moat. Then more and more buildings, halls, chapels and store rooms, appeared in the bailey. Castle life softened as the world became less lawless and wealthy families eventually came to prefer a country house, often abandoning the castle. Goodrich Castle in Herefordshire is an excellent example of this sort of development.

Castle Rising is an oddity; a huge earthwork still surrounds a stone keep as though development stalled in the 12th century, but the keep is one of the biggest in England and it has also travelled as far as a stone keep can in the direction of country house.

Castle Rising from the top of the earthwork

The d'Aubigny and Montalts

Castle Rising was built by William d'Aubigny II around 1138. A man on the rise, d’Aubigny had just married Adeliza of Louvain, the widow of King Henry I and was about to become Duke of Arundel. This was at the start of the Anarchy, a game of thrones played between Henry I’s daughter (and Adeliza’s stepdaughter) Matilda, and Henry’s nephew Stephen of Blois. D’Aubigny needed a strong castle, and he had two, Arundel and Buckenham. Lacking strategic value his third, Castle Rising, became a palatial hunting lodge surrounded by deer parks. William d'Aubigny and his descendants enjoyed this facility until 1243 when his great-great-grandson died childless and the castle passed to the Montalt family.

Even a pleasure palace needed a defendable entrance, Castle Rising

The Montalts raised the forebuilding of the keep and added the peaked roof, but they ran out of money and sold the castle to the crown in 1327.

During this time most of the castle activity took place in the Great Hall. The ground floor was for storage only, the kitchens were on the first floor (second floor for American readers) behind the Great Hall.

Storage space below, Great Hall above, Castle Rising

The Lord and Lady of the castle held court from a niche in the wall, conveniently opposite the hearth.

A comfortable niche in the Great Hall for the Lord and Lady, Castle Rising

Isabella of France

The most interesting character to live in Castle Rising was Isabella of France. The daughter of Phillipe IV of France she was married by proxy to Edward II of England aged 10.

Edward’s father, Edward I had been a top-grade medieval war lord, the younger Edward was not. Dad had been the ‘Hammer of the Scots’, his son’s northern venture ended in a humiliating defeat at Bannockburn.

Edward II’s court was riven with factions and he was dependent on favourites, Piers Gaveston being his main influence when Isabella arrived. When Isabella complained to her father that Edward visited Gaveston's bed more than hers, pressure was applied, and Edward performed his conjugal duties. In 1312, aged 17, Isabella gave birth to an heir, the future Edward III, duly followed by a spare and two girls.

Isabella shrewdly reached an understanding with Gaveston but his death in factional in-fighting led to the rise of a new favourite, Hugh Despenser. Isabella was side-lined and members of her household arrested. She fled to France where she took up with Roger Mortimer, Earl of March.

The elegant stairs to the Great Hall, Castle Rising

Isabella and Mortimer returned in 1326 with an army. Edward’s support collapsed and Hugh Despenser was captured and gruesomely executed. Isabella declared her son to be king with herself as regent. Edward II was murdered in 1327, but outlandish stories of his death are probably apocryphal.

Isabella and Roger Mortimer ruled until 1330 when the young king decided to assert his authority. Mortimer was executed and Isabella, still only 35, retired to Castle Rising where she lived in some style until her death in 1358.

Isabella liked comfort, and new kitchens and other buildings were erected in the bailey. After her, nobody took much interest in Castle Rising, it became dilapidated and the outbuildings were quarried for building stone. It has been safely in the hands of English Heritage since 1983.

The remains of Isabella's kitchen and other outbuildings, Castle Rising

Kings Lynn: The Tuesday Market Square and the Dukes Head

We drove into Kings Lynn where we were booked into the Dukes Head Hotel on the Tuesday Market Square.

It is impossible to do justice to a large square – and it is very large – even one surrounded by impressive buildings, in a single photo. A market is still held every Tuesday, but we stayed Wednesday to Friday so I have nothing to report.

Tuesday Market Square, Kings Lynn

The Dukes Head is one of the finest buildings in the square. I have been unable to discover who the relevant Duke was, but I do know it was built in 1683, was designed by local architect Henry Bell and is currently Grade II listed. It is also covered in scaffolding (we were warned before booking), but that is a price that must be paid to keep such buildings in good repair. Oddly, the clearest view through the scaffolding was at night.

The Dukes Head Hotel after dark, Kings Lynn Tuesday Market Square

Dinner at the Dukes Head

Our Travelzoo deal included dinner, so after an aperitif in the bar, we presented ourselves at what the hotel calls its ‘Fine Dining Restaurant’. The Dukes Head holds 1 AA rosette. The AA awards restaurants from 1 to 5 rosettes. 3,4 and 5 being broadly equivalent to 1,2 and 3 Michelin stars. A single AA rosette is, I would think, the minimum requirement to describe your restaurant as ‘fine dining’.

From the 6 choices of starter Lynne selected…

Feta and Courgette Sausage Roll, beetroot jam, toasted pine nuts.

This was a vegetarian dish, the ‘sausage roll’ referring to the shape produced by wrapping strips of courgette (zucchini, to Italians and Americans) round a small pillar of feta cheese. Lynne liked this very much, an unadvertised spike of citrus stopped the feta from cloying and the pine nuts added crunch. She was unsure what made the beetroot ‘jam’, but it was beetroot, so she yummed it up regardless.

Feta and courgette sausage roll, beetroot jam, toasted pine nuts.Dukes Head, Kings Lynn 

Ham Hock Rissole, carrot chutney, chicory

My first choice would have been Asparagus, but for reasons soon to become clear I changed my mind. The sight of the rissole made me doubt my decision, it resembled a huge bug with chicory wings, but in fairness the exterior was crisp and the interior, a sort of pulled ham hock, was surprisingly light, though there was something missing from the flavour. Whatever it was the sweet/sour carrot chutney covered it up, and using the slightly bitter chicory as an edible scoop resulted in a pleasing combination of flavours and textures.

Ham hock rissole, carrot chutney, chicory. Dukes Head, Kings Lynn

Trebbiano Rubicone

A bottle of house white also came with our deal. A clean, fresh, but rather austere Trebbiano, it opened up as it breathed.

Steamed Sea Trout, spring vegetables, Hollandaise

We both chose Sea Trout for our main course. Professional reviewers would never do that but I am an amateur so we can have what we want.

Steaming is never going to crisp the skin, and it did little for the layer of fat beneath, but I knew that when I ordered it. What disappointed me was that the fish seemed flaccid and flabby. It reminded me of farmed salmon, a close relation after all. I was unsure if sea trout is farmed, but I find it is, in Scotland, and I suspect this was an example.

Sea Trout, spring vegetables, Hollandaise. Dukes Head, Kings Lynn

I liked the spring vegetables, the asparagus was particularly lovely – not quite the first of the new season’s English crop for me, I am happy to report. The artichoke was a revelation, a chef-y favourite for a few years now but never one of mine because of its often woolly texture and absence of taste, but this was neither woolly or tasteless. The young peas and baby broad beans were excellent with the Hollandaise sauce.

I avoided the asparagus starter as that too had Hollandaise sauce and once a meal is enough. This also had asparagus, though it was not specifically mentioned, so I made the right decision, but is this good menu planning?

Affogato

Affogato is Italian for drowned. The drowning of a scoop of vanilla ice cream in an espresso can be presented in several ways, the simplest being to serve them in two adjacent cups amd let the diner get on with it.

Affogato, Dukes Head, Kings Lynn

It is a simple, but effective dessert.

Chocolate Bunet, orange sorbet, raspberry powder, cocoa nibs, amaretti crumb

Bunet, originally from Piedmont is less simple. Like pannacotta and crème caramel it is a dolci al cucchiaio - a spoon dessert – and is made from cocoa, eggs and amaretti, and flavoured with rum. The Bunet was fine if a little one-dimensional - it needed the dried raspberry and the amaretti crumb, where a good pannacotta or (Portuguese) crème caramel requires no enhancement.

Chocolate Bunet, Dukes head; Kings Lynn

Star of the show was the sorbet, not orange as announced, but passion fruit. The powerful fruit flavour, high acidity and intense sweetness made it a delight.

And Finally....

It was a good meal and did the trick of making us feel that we had gone away and done something – a feeling that has been missing of late. It was of a similar standard to other single AA rosette meals in this blog, links to reviews are below. Reviews of Michelin starred restaurants – which really are a step up – can be found by clicking the ‘fine dining’ label on the side bar.

Other 1 AA Rosette meal9
The Speech House, Forest of Dean Gloucestershire (2019)
The Hotel du Vin, Cheltenham, Gloucestershire (2019)
The Hotel du Vin, Stratford-upon-Avon. Warwickshire (2022)
The Dukes Head, Kings Lynn, Norfolk (2022)

Other Norfolk/Cambridgeshire Posts

King's Lynn and Around: The Wash & Castle Rising (April 2022)
King's Lynn: The Town (April 2022)
Wisbech and Peckover House (April 2022)

Hemingford Grey and Green Knowe (July 2016)

Stratford-upon-Avon and the Hotel du Vin

Among the 500+ posts on this blog is one from July 2019 entitled Cheltenham: The Hotel du Vin and Brian Jones. There is a little about Cheltenham, but mostly it is a review of our dinner at the Hotel du Vin. This post was intended to redress the balance and be more about Stratford and less a restaurant review. It has partially achieved that aim.

A Valentine's Day Visit to the Midland's Tourist Honeypot

Introducing Stratford

Warwickshire

The other Stratford, the one in east London that hosted the 2012 Olympics, is less anonymous than it once was, so I have carefully defined my Stratford in the title. With a population of round 30,000, Stratford-upon-Avon is the sixth largest town in Warwickshire and the largest in Stratford-on-Avon, the southernmost of the county’s five districts. No doubt, you spotted the missing ‘up’ that distinguishes district from town. Such fine distinctions often pass us by, but should we care? Probably not.

Stratford-upon-Avon in the southeast corner of the English West Midlands

Stratford’s most important citizen died over 400 years ago, but he can still be seen around in statue form; this one is in Henley Street, near his birthplace. The work of James Butler it arrived as part of the 2020 redevelopment.

Lynne and William Shakespeare, Henley Street, Stratford-upon-Avon

Stratford on Valentine’s Day

And is a Valentine’s Day visit to Stratford a romantic gesture? Yes, and indeed, no.

In summer, the town is just too full of tourists, in February all the fine old buildings are still there and unobscured by crowds.

Stratford has plenty of old buildings

But February in England is typically cool and damp and Valentine’s Day is not exempt. Cool and damp are not the adjectives of romance - and most of the tourist attractions are closed.

We knew this and a did not arrive until lunchtime. If we lived further away we would have set out earlier to make a day of it, but Stratford is 70 miles from home (a little to the west of Stoke-on-Trent in the map above) and we feel we can go there any time - though we rarely do - so why make the big effort when little is open?

Shakespeare’s Birthplace

Despite the (waning) effect of Covid and (predictable) effect of the season, Shakespeare’s birthplace was open.

The 16th century timber-frame house now known as 42, Henley Street, was rented and later owned by John Shakespeare, William’s father, for over fifty years. The street frontage used to be more impressive, but the building’s original rather grey colouring is being allowed to reassert itself.

The current entrance is at the back, via the modern exhibition further down the street.

Shakespeare's Birthplace, Stratford-upon-Avon

The substantial garden may well have existed in Shakespeare’s time though used for producing vegetables and accommodating livestock rather than growing flowers.

Snowdrops, Shakespeare's birthplace, Stratford-upon-Avon
A reminder that even in the depths of winter there is hope.

Visitors first enter the parlour, where guests would have been entertained. Finding a bed here seems surprising, but beds were expensive, even to the relatively wealthy upper middle class, and if you had a best bed, you showed it off – and honoured guests even got to sleep in it. This puts Shakespeare’s bequest of his ‘second-best bed’ to his wife in some perspective.

Parlour, Shakespeare's Birthplace, Stratford-upon-Avon

The family and any guests would have dined in the hall where only the head of the household had a proper chair. Food preparation would have been carried out in a building behind the house which has not survived.

Hall, Shakespeare's Birthplace, Stratford-upon-Avon

Inevitably no furniture has survived in situ, but although some on show is reproduction, most is of the right age. The hall benches were definitely in use (though elsewhere) in Shakespeare’s time.

A bench of some antiquity, Shakespeare's birthplace, Stratford-upon-Avon

Beyond was John Shakespeare’s workshop. He was a glove maker and leatherworker and built up a successful business. In 1556 he was elected borough ale taster (now there’s a job!) which brought responsibility for weights and measures and price control. Later he became a constable, then an alderman and in 1568, when William was four, he was appointed High Bailiff of Stratford, a position that brought both power and responsibility.

In 1576 he was rich enough to educate his sons and to buy the next two houses in Henley St, combining them into one dwelling – I think that includes the current gift shop. After that he over-reached himself, becoming involved in unlicensed wool-trading and money-lending. He lost his position in society and endured some difficult times.

Buttery, Shakespeare's birthplace, Stratford-upon-Avon

Upstairs was the main bedroom. The mattress was stuffed with hay, goose down mattresses being the preserve of the very wealthy. The batons sticking up on either side could be removed and were used to beat the mattress before retiring. This would have some cleaning effect and stop compression and explains why ‘hitting the hay’ now means ‘going to bed’.

Master bedroom, Shakespeare's birthplace, Stratford-upon-Avon

The children used the next bedroom. John and Mary Shakespeare had eight of whom William was the third, oldest of the five who survived infancy.

Children's bedroom, Shakespeare's birthplace, Stratford-upon-Avon

John left the house to his oldest surviving son at his death in 1601, but William already had a Stratford home and leased out this building as an inn. It remained in Shakespeare ownership for a couple of generations until they ran out of heirs - William Shakespeare has no descendants.

The Avon and the Royal Shakespeare Theatre

Leaving the great man’s birthplace, we walked down High St and Sheep St…

High Street, Stratford-upon-Avon

… to the River Avon. The river rises near Naseby in Northamptonshire and flows southwest for 75 miles before joining the Severn at Tewkesbury. ‘Avon’ derives from the ancient Brythonic word for river (like modern Welsh afon - the single ‘f’ pronounced as a ‘v’) so the River Avon is a tautology – which maybe accounts for why there are so many of them. To avoid confusion, this is the Warwickshire Avon, or Shakespeare’s Avon.

Lynne beside the Avon at Stratford

Swans are always associated with the Avon, but there were also plenty of (mainly Canada) geese, pigeons and black-headed gulls. A woman was feeding the birds; twice they gathered in great numbers at her feet, then something spooked them and they all took flight at once. Surprisingly they do not seem to fly into each other.

Birds take flight beside the Avon, Stratford

I photographed a small gull in Bakewell in 2019. My knowledgeable friend Francis, identified it as a black-headed gull. ‘But it does not have a black head,’ I objected. ‘It’s in winter plumage,’ was the answer. The photo was taken in July but, Francis informed me, it goes into winter plumage as soon as it has finished breeding. So why is it called black-headed when it only has a black head for three months of the year?

Black-headed gull (in winter plumage) beside the Avon, Stratford

The Royal Shakespeare Theatre is right beside the river. It was under reconstruction for several years, but has emerged still recognisable as the building it was. It has grown a tower which, I am told, gives excellent views across the town, but of course, it was closed.

Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon

When we lived nearer, we visited the theatre regularly but it is ages since we went and we cannot blame covid for more than a small fraction of it. I think we should make the effort.

Shakespeare’s Grave

After visiting his birthplace and the theatre that helps keep his work alive, we ambled down beside the river…

Walking beside the Avon

…to Holy Trinity Church where he is buried.

Holy Trinity Church, Stratford-upon-Avon

I had not expected the church to be closed, but Mondays are never a good day. Fortunately, I have a photo of Shakespeare’s grave from an earlier visit. He was buried on the 25th of April 1616, so he probably died on the 23rd, his 52nd birthday. Shakespeare paid a considerable sum to be buried inside the church rather than in the graveyard, but recent research has shown the grave is only a metre deep. Souvenir hunting was popular at the time so there is a curse - half hidden by the altar rail - on any who disturb his bones. He has probably lain here unmolested for over 400 years.

Shakespeare's Grave, Holy Trinity, Stratford (2006)

Shakespeare Memorial

Strangely I did not photograph the memorial on the wall just to the left of where I was standing, so I have borrowed Wikipedia’s. (The work of ‘Sicinius’, it is reproduced under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International). The figure and pillow were carved from a single limestone block probably by Gerard Johnson. It must have been made before 1623 as it is referenced in the First Folio, published in that year, and may be as early and 1616 or 17. The sculptor had the assistance of people who had known Shakespeare, and possibly of a death mask. It has been criticised as a work of art, but it is as good a likeness as we can have of a man who died so long ago.

The Hotel du Vin, Stratford

It was time to walk to our hotel and check in. The rain had held off most of the afternoon, but not for this final walk. Never mind, the hotel was doing its best to celebrate the day.

Valentine's Day at the Hotel du Vin

Dinner at the Hotel du Vin, Stratford

At the appropriate time we presented ourselves in the dining room for the 3-course Valentine’s Day dinner which included a glass of Champagne with the starters.

Chicken Liver Parfait

From six first course choices, Lynne went for the chicken liver parfait with raisin chutney and brioche toast. She has a long-held belief (which I actually share, but express less forcibly) that brioche is breakfast food and its creeping colonisation of savoury dishes should be resisted. She made her speech, ordered the dish regardless and complained not at all – except to say was a bit large with two courses to come – but we can’t eat like we used to. Getting older is no fun.

Chicken Liver Parfait and a glass of Champagne, Hotel du Vin, Stratford

Pissaladière

The dish originated in the Liguria region of Italy and long ago spread along the Mediterranean coast into France, this version being described on the menu as niçoise. The unfortunate sounding name derives from peis salat, salted fish in the old coastal dialect. It traditionally has four basic ingredients, a dough base, caramelised onions, anchovies and black olives.

Pissaladière, Hotel du Vin, Stratford

In this case the ‘base’ was a pastry coffin. The pastry was a touch claggy, but the filling of soft, sweet onion flecked with shards of savoury/salty anchovy was delightful. The black olives were ‘à la Grecque’ and I would have preferred something less aggressive – little niçoise olives preserved in brine would have been perfect. The rest, some leaves and a quail's egg, looked pretty and the leaves were fresh and crisp, but all would have benefitted from a splash of olive oil.

Pan-Seared Duck Breast

Despite the fish, vegetarian, vegan and two beef options we both went for pan-seared duck breast with fondant potato and Agen prunes.

Pan seared duck breast, Hotel du Vin, Stratford

My duck breast was appropriately pink, the skin nicely seared, but it could have been more tender and ducky-flavoured. I blame the beast rather than the chef. Prune juice, as Commander Worf once averred, is a warrior’s drink, and the Prunneaux d’Agen of south west France, are the most warlike of prunes. So much so, they rather overwhelmed the duck.

Vin de Madiran

The hotel is justifiably proud of its extensive wine list. Looking beyond the recommendations on page one there is an interesting mix of expensive classics and cheaper regional wines. I chose a Madiran from south west France - at under £35 it was inexpensive by restaurant standards. Made from the local tannat grape known for its dark colour, firm tannic structure and raspberry aromas, it lived up to its reputation and was, we thought, a good choice.

Sorbet and Crème Brûlée

Lynne only had space for a scoop of raspberry sorbet, which slid down nicely. I would have liked to try their ‘selection of artisan cheeses’ but although the spirit was willing, the flesh was weak and I settled for the crème brûlée. The vanilla custard was less sweet than usual, but I liked that; who needs more sugar when you have cracked your way through the glazing?

This was our second Hotel du Vin dinner, both were good enough to be worth a review, but neither hit any great heights. These are not Michelin starred menus – but nor are they Michelin star prices – and I appreciate a menu prepared to take a few risks, even if some do not come off.

Other 1 AA Rosette meals
The Speech House, Forest of Dean Gloucestershire (2019)
The Hotel du Vin, Cheltenham, Gloucestershire (2019)
The Hotel du Vin, Stratford-upon-Avon. Warwickshire (2022)
The Dukes Head, Kings Lynn, Norfolk (2022)

Socialist Realism and some Western Fantasies

In Praise of Bad Art

Let’s get the confession out of the way right at the start: I don’t know much about art, but I know what I like.

This is not, for once, the precursor to an ill-informed rant about ‘modern art’, it is merely a statement of fact. I studied sciences at school and engineering at university but when I became a teacher I returned to mathematics, always my favourite school subject (and that, no doubt, proves to some that I am, at the very least, odd). I spent my last art lesson, aged 14, as I spent most cleaning brushes and sharpening pencils, I had learned long before that any ‘art’ I produced would be not just bad but embarrassing, so I produced none – and have continued to produce none for the next 58 years. I am not going to change now.

Socialist Realism

But that does not mean I do not appreciate other’s efforts. This post is an appreciation of one, odd, quirky artistic backwater that we have encountered in our travels. Socialist Realism is probably of more interest to students of politics and sociology than of art, but I know what I like – and I like it.

The Leaders

The 1917 Russian Revolution was a major convulsion. The past was over, everything, including art, had to begin again. Many within the artistic community were happy to be co-opted into the new future.

An enormous head of Lenin, Ulan Ude in the Russian far east

Stalin, like Hitler, had no time for decadent artforms, but the idea of Socialist Realism emerged slowly, the term being first used in 1932. In 1934 the four guidelines of Socialist realism were laid out at the 17th Congress of the All-Union Communist Party.

Lynne and Uncle Joe, Stalin's birthplace museum, Gori, Georgia

Art must be:

1) Proletarian: art relevant to the workers and understandable to them.
2) Typical: scenes of everyday life of the people.
3) Realistic: in the representational sense.
4) Partisan: supportive of the aims of the State and the Party.

Waiting for the firing squad?
Stalin, Lenin, former Albanian leader Enver Hoxha (and some extras) stored in a rarely visited corner of Tirana castle

So how do the works above measure up to the guidelines?

An 8m high, 42 tonne head of Lenin erected in 1970 to celebrate the 100th anniversary of his birth is easily understood by all workers: it says THE PARTY IS IN CHARGE literally (almost) in caps lock. What it means for it to be in situ 30 years after the end of the USSR is another question. The other statues said the same, only more quietly, but their new locations have changed the message. They now say: the party’s over.

All are undoubtedly realistic, Lenin very much so. Stalin looks like he was carved in frozen yoghurt and is now melting, but it is obviously him. The Albanian examples are not such good likenesses, though they have been bashed around and Enver Hoxha is hiding his face with his arm. The stone carving at his feet is actually a good likeness of him, despite the smashed nose – the least he deserved from an ungrateful nation with much to be ungrateful for.

Enver Hoxha with broken nose, Tirana Castle, Albania

That they are partisan is unquestionable, but Guideline 2...?

Peasant Wedding, Peter Breughal the Elder
(public domain)

Well, three out of four is not bad, but Peter Breughel the Elder also scored 3 out 4 - several times. The Peasant Wedding, for example, is proletarian and easily understood, is a scene of everyday life and is realistic. As for supporting the aims of the Party, Breughel died 300 years before 'The Party' was born so could neither support nor oppose. However, he depicts peasants/proletarians as human beings with our well-known virtues and vices, so, I think, too much realism for Socialist Realism.

Perhaps the rulers are not the most distinctive parts of Socialist Realism, I see little intrinsic difference between a statue of Lenin and one of Queen Victoria or Winston Churchill. So, lets have a look at the Proletarian struggle.

The Soldiers

But first, a folk hero. David of Sassoun is the hero of the Rebels of Sassoun an epic Armenian poem of unknown antiquity, first written down in 1873 after a millennium or so of oral transmission. The soviet authorities cautiously approved of national heroes; if they could not be linked to any modern political faction, they could be co-opted to the proletarian cause.

David of Sassoun, Yerevan, Armenia

A statue was erected outside Yerevan station in 1939 to celebrate the (conveniently invented) 1,000th anniversary of the poem. It was destroyed in 1941 when sculptor Yervand Kochar was accused of praising Adolf Hitler, but Kochar survived and kept his gypsum original. In 1959 a new casting was made to belatedly celebrate the 40th anniversary of the Russian revolution. It was in poor condition when visited in 2003.

And the guidelines? Proletarian? Yes, a folk tale is a story of the proletariat. Partisan? Yes, David of Sassoun was officially viewed as a proto-communist. Typical? You cannot have everything! Realistic? Look at those tree-trunk legs!

And here we encounter a problem that runs through all warriors in Socialist Realism. Proletarian soldiers must look impressive, like this chap on guard at Gjirokastër castle in Albania…

Soldier, Gjirokastër Castle, Albania

...or, better still, superhuman like this intimidating group of North Korean heroes. This is realism only for the deluded. The man firing the gun (his forearm like David of Sassoun’s leg) sensibly crouches behind the shield, but the lunatic with flag clearly has a death wish. And the man just behind? A fine physical specimen, maybe, and remarkable clean, as men involved in warfare seldom are, but he is the only North Korean male I have ever seen sporting a side-parting.

Heroic DPRK soldiers, Fatherland War Liberation Museum, Pyongyang

We saw many soldiers during our week in North Korea. They were small, proud men in cheap, poorly made uniforms one size too large. No one below the rank of colonel gets a uniform that fits, or perhaps no one below that rank eats well enough to fill the uniform they are given. None of them looked like any of the group above.

Workers, Peasants, Men, Women and Children, More Fighters, More Leaders

Long Live the Great socialist October Revolution , 31st Anniversary (1948)
City Museum, Tallinn, Estonia

The men above, and the peasants, children etc immediately above and below exemplify the problem of Socialist Realism. Scenes of everyday life (and warfare) must support the aims of the party. So, soldiers must be heroic, and workers must be happy and thriving, and owe that to the party, and know they owe it to the party.

Long live the Estonian Soviet Socialist Republic, 11th Anniversary
City Museum, Tallinn, Estonia

Somewhere in the corner, Breughal would have included a grumpy git, or somebody cheating in some way, but Socialist Realism cannot allow this, everybody must be cooperating happily. That you cannot please all the people all the time, is an immutable law of human nature and so Socialist Realism can never be realistic. The problem is not with socialism specifically, it is with mandating art to support the government.

When a leader joins his adoring people, realism is missed by an extra notch. Travellers arriving on Puhung metro station (one of the four stations on the Pyongyang metro open to foreigners) are greeted by no less than Kim Il Sung, the DPRK's Eternal Leader.

Kim Il Sung himself, welcomes us to Puhung station on the Pyongyang metro
Notice the miner's foot on the stairs, the DPRK is very keen on trompe l'oeil

Two Favourites

I will finish this section with my two favourites. The first is a mosaic on the façade of Tirana’s Museum of National History.

Albanian Museum of National History, Skanderbeg Square, Tirana

It displays the whole of Albanian history, starting with the Illyrians and Thracians on the left before moving seamlessly to the intellectuals of the 19th century Albanian Renaissance. On the right are the workers and peasants who saw off the Ottoman Empire in the early 20th century - one woman giving a distrustful backward glance at the intellectuals. All are led into the glorious socialist future by a worker, a soldier and an inappropriately dressed young woman with a right forearm that would not disgrace a blacksmith. She would be terrifying even if she was not carrying a rifle. Such works need to be treasured as many have already disappeared, been painted over or dismantled as Albania deals with its new reality.

Mosaic, Albanian Museum of National History, Skanderbeg Square, Tirana

The second is a painting in the lobby of the May 6th Hotel, Sariwon, North Korea which expands the delusion to a whole new level of ‘Realism’. The conceit here is not just that North Korea is a paradise, but that leaders from across the world recognise this and come to admire and seek advice from the great Kim Il Sung himself.

Kim Il Sung meets the people of the world, May 6th Hotel Lobby, Sariwon, North Korea 

Capitalist Realism?

Hitler’s tastes in art were apparently similar to Stalin’s and the Nazis promoted Heroic Realism which has a studied arrogance that Socialist Realism lacks.

"Capitalist realism" has been used to describe the Pop Art of the 1950s and 1960s and the commodity art of the 1980s and 1990s, but as a self-knowing play on "socialist realism". Search for ‘Capitalist Realism Paintings’ on google images and it is difficult to see the theme running through the results, although artwork from the Jehovah’s Witnesses magazine The Watchtower, does come up a few times; it undoubtedly has the style and lack of self-awareness, of the finest Socialist Realism.

But can there a precise western counterpart of Socialist Realism - when you are living the dream, why pretend? Yes, of course, there can, and I have two examples, one American which I call Hollywood realism, the other British, Imperialist Realism, perhaps..

British Imperialist Realism

The neo-Baroque head office of Liverpool's Royal Insurance Company was completed in 1903. It is now the Aloft Hotel where we stayed last year. A remarkable stone frieze sits below one window. The soldier-like figures suggest the British Empire is out there comforting widows and their children, building railways across the wilderness and erecting churches to shine light into the world’s darkest places - and all these activities are protected by the Royal Insurance Company.

Frieze, Aloft Hotel, Liverpool

The British empire was, of course, an unalloyed force for good in the world, spreading the benefits of civilisation and Christianity; it was never about exploiting the wealth or the inhabitants of far-away countries. There were people who believed that then – there are some who believe it now, even some in positions of power and influence.

Hollywood Realism

​In 2013 we flew into North Korea from Beijing, but returned by overnight train. We lunched in Korea, reached the border in late afternoon and rolled across the Yalu River into the Chinese city of Dandong in early evening. North Korea is the only country we have ever left with a feeling of relief and we savoured the welcoming bright lights, bustle and (yes) freedom of China.

We dined on the train after it left Dandong. In Korea food (for us) was plentiful if not particularly interesting and our Chinese dinner was like eating in full colour after our monochrome Korean lunch. But the Korean’s brew good beer, and the only beer available with with our dinner was Pabst, a brew which contributed fully to the USA’s former reputation as a beer drinker’s desert. More interesting than the beer was the artwork on the cans, a set of half a dozen, rather similar pictures, one of them reproduced below.

Pabst beer can - Heroic American Soldier, smiling, friendly and armed to the teeth
A can with bad taste inside and out?

The copyright of the above picture belongs to Interbrand and I have borrowed the artwork from their website. They inform me these special edition cans were made only for the Chinese market. I make no further comment.

Why I like Socialist Realism

I started by saying I liked Socialist Realism, I ought now to explain why.

I am not that keen on the leaders, but I love the cheerful pictures of happy workers, peasants and soldiers. But only a fool takes them at face value, behind every silver lining there is a cloud, a very obvious cloud in the case of the death-defying, North Korean, machine gunners.

Socialist Realism is, of course, fantasy, but it was conceived as realism, the irony in the name is unintentional. Many people are involved in the production of public art. A top-level decision is made to create, say, a mosaic, artists work on designs, a committee will choose the winner, workers will make the pieces and put them in place. I suspect somebody among them will honestly believe in what they are doing, though most will just get on with their jobs. But where is the belief? At the top? Among the workers? Surely not among the artists, or is it?

I love the ambivalence and ambiguity, though I admit they are easier to enjoy when they are safely in the past; some of the North Korean examples – and the American beer can – are more worrying.

…and finally…

The Korean Worker’s Party Monument in Pyongyang is a typical piece of DPRK bombast…

Korean Workers' Party Monument, Pyongyang

…but inside the circle of concrete blocks, just above head height, is a frieze, a relief of women, soldiers, children, aviators and more whose task is, apparently, to outstare the future.

Nobly attempting to outstare the future, Korean Worker's Party Monument, Pyongyang

I cannot believe there was not a knowing hand in here somewhere.

In a Similar Vein

Statues Without Plinths (2023)
Socialist Realism: In Praise of Bad Art (2022)
The Boxes of Carvoeiro (2016)