My mother wants to be a bench.
When she, you know, moves on. She wants to be memorialized with a bench near her favorite lighthouse. I’m not quite committed to the idea yet.
This kept popping into my mind as I explored Hyde and Kensington Park yesterday. While I simply meant to enjoy an unseasonably sunny day, I ended up thinking about death an awful lot.
That’s not as macabre as it sounds.
Well, maybe it is.
But Hyde Park, previously unbeknownst to me, is chock full of memorials to dearly departed or solemn events. And the memorials range in such variety that I couldn’t help but contemplate the different ways people have commemorated their loved ones over the years.
Some memorials seem entirely functional and austere in their purpose, and you get the feeling that the deceased would have liked it that way. For example, the Hudson Memorial Bird Sanctuary was built to commemorate William Hudson, who established the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds. The Queen Caroline Memorial is, itself, a large stone urn hidden behind trees - but the area it looks over, a luscious lake known as the Serpentine which was constructed by Caroline during her lifetime. One can’t help but imagine that Caroline, in overseeing the making of the Serpentine, which now serves as a gathering spot for friends and families year round, actively created her own memorial while alive.
On the other side of Kensington, (and the spectrum of ostentatiousness), is the unmissable Albert Memorial, dedicated to Prince Albert upon his death of typhoid in 1861. The ornately carved pagoda features a golden statue of Albert himself surrounded by representations of his passions. I am not up to date on my Prince Albert history, so all I can confirm for you is that his passions were numerous. As the Royal Parks website says, “Marble figures representing Europe, Asia, Africa and America stand at each corner of the memorial, and higher up are further figures representing manufacture, commerce, agriculture and engineering. Yet further up, near the top, are gilded bronze statues of the angels and virtues. All around the base of the memorial the Parnassus frieze depicts celebrated painters, poets sculptors, musicians and architects, reflecting Albert's enthusiasm for the arts. There are 187 exquisitely carved figures in the frieze.”
The Albert Memorial, of course, sits directly across from the equally imposing and illustrious Royal Albert Hall. Impressive? For sure. Memorable? Absolutely. I can’t, however, say this style of memorial I would personally go for.
Somewhere in between muted and gilded are several other memorials to war, atrocities, and movements. The Holocaust Memorial and the Norwegian War Memorial are both boulders. At the time of my visit, the stoic Holocaust Memorial was brought to life by two beautiful bouquets of roses and handwritten letters. Contrasting against the stone, the soft petals and curly letters seemed to me to represent the perseverance of life against the backdrop of immovable collective trauma.
The Calvary Memorial and the Animals in War Memorial in Hyde Park are both made of granite and bronze, but while the Calvary Memorial represents the collective loss of World War I in one fictionalized character, St. George and his dragon, thus removing the viewer somewhat from the emotions of the memorial, the Animals in War Memorial utilizes space and structure to immerse the visitor into the monument. It is thought-provoking, overwhelming, and judging by the fresh flowers often laid there, elicits a strong reaction and perhaps sense of collective remorse from visitors.
Similar in structure but more modern in design is the 7 July Memorial, featuring 52 unique stainless steel beams representing the 52 victims of the 2005 London Bombings. As each beam is 3.5 meters tall, visitors are invited to wander amongst them, feeling dwarfed by lives cut short.
The most touching memorial, personally, was the Diana, Princess of Wales Memorial Fountain. Given the lurid attitude with which Princess Diana’s death (and life) has been handled over the years (there’s a cafe across from the park decorated floor to ceiling with Diana pics), I was a little hesitant what I would find. I had seen the marker on the map but was expecting your typical, you know, fountain…to the point that I didn’t actually recognize it when I first came across it. The fountain is actually an elliptical spring of water circling over simple and refined. Cornish granite. The fountain was constructed in 2005, and according to the Royal Parks is “aims to reflect Diana's life, water flows from the highest point in two directions as it cascades, swirls and bubbles before meeting in a calm pool at the bottom…[t]he Memorial also symbolises Diana's quality and openness. There are three bridges where you can cross the water and go right to the heart of the fountain.” While signs request you refrain from walking on the granite and allow for contemplative space for others, they also invite you to dip your feet in the water, making this a highly interactive memorial that carefully toes the line between solemnity and celebration. I personally love that this is a memorial that, while inspiring contemplation and reflection, is also a living, playful part of the environment.
On the other side of the park, at the northwest corner of Kensington Gardens, is the Diana, Princess of Wales Memorial Playground. This memorial holds the same essence - it’s far enough away from the memorial fountain to remove the uncomfortable companionship of death and childhood, but a simple sign elucidates on Diana’s love for children. While adults will appreciate this marker, children themselves will soon lose themselves in imagination as they explore the playgrounds teepees, pirate’s ship, sensory trail, and more. According to Royal Parks, over 1 million children visit the playground each year, meaning that far from an off-limits memorial, this is a well-used, well-loved piece of the city. I find that refreshing and inspiring in a memorial.
All of these memorials sit alongside other statues, structures, gardens, and installments ranging from solemn to whimsical to high art, shadowed all by trees, tall grasses, and people enjoying the outdoors. Taken as a whole, Hyde and Kensington Parks serve as a living time capsule for the people of England and its visitors.
At the end of the day, I can see the appeal of a bench. Hyde Park is also scattered with memorial benches, simple benches with plaques holding a special message for someone. My favorite bench sat in a quiet, but not lonely area, and read along the lines of, “What a wonderful place for us all to have met.”
Joy, sorrow, loss, war, remembrance, play.
Life, ya’ll. What a wonderful place for us all to have met.