En route from The Glasshouse to (see previous post) to meet friends near London Bridge, I wandered past the Old Operating Theatre and Herb Garret. I usually give museums a miss during Open House by dint of the fact that they're accessible at other times, but I had some time to kill and it's been on my list of places to visit for ages, so I popped in. Again, I spent a bit longer inside than I intended, because it's ace, especially the Herb Garret, which smells awesome. There are piles of dried plants and powders all over the place, with little bottles and things tucked into random surprise corners, as well as cabinets filled with old bottles and surgical equipment. For a vintage ephemera fan, it's pretty cool, and I found such gems as Neoklenz, Beechams pills, Concentrated Maggot Wash (ewww), Mawson's Double Action Breast Reliever and a rather disturbing list of hints on the use of the enema syringe. (And just watch the pervs flock in via Google for the last two.)

The operating theatre itself is rather nice, too, offering some pleasing clean-lined minimalism after the glorious excess of The Glasshouse. Unfortunately, I happened to catch the eye of a random camera nerd who followed me around a bit after I casually joked about us trying to take a photo of the same thing at the same time, so I didn't manage to get the exact picture I was after, but I like this one.

More pics here. Read more on the museum at Nothing To See Here.

Downstairs, the shell of St Thomas' was open to the public for the first time in over 50 years. It's now home to an architecture practice called the Cathedral Group [warning: typical architects' flash-only website], and they had lots of contemporary art and architectural dioramas on display. I am a fan of architectural dioramas because I love miniaturised versions of very big things, so I enjoyed those (here's the Deptford Project in miniature), but the art was a lot more hit and miss. My favourite art pieces weren't in fact officially art; one was an old dockyard sign reminding workers that it was against the law to spit in any of the dockyard buildings and the other was a fantastic yellow-and-pink mannequin, created by the firm for an old office party, who wouldn't have looked out of place in Andrew Logan's house.

My other unlikely favourite feature was the window in the ladies' loo; a perfect principle of minimalist design. In fact, it was a design I'd already seen recently, in this photo by Maraid, (which I liked so much I totally copied it, except I had to cheat and use Poladroid to get the desired effect). I also rather liked the shadows cast by the frames on the windows.

More pics here.

Then on to meet friends outside Southwark Cathedral (which was not participating in Open House and was midway through a service so I didn't go in). From there, a bus to Rotherhithe, with the attention of visiting the Brunel Museum and attending the launch of the Geek Atlas that was taking place. However, we got distracted by the Sands Studio and Rotherhithe Picture Research Library next door.

This is one of those fantastic resources that not enough people know about, and was one that I had passed on the way to the Mayflower pub next door, and always meant to visit when it was open, but as usual had forgotten about. The picture library is particularly special because it's open to the public during the week, and they are free to go and browse the shelves to find huge picture scrapbooks under practically any subject they could possibly want. The shelves are organised in sections which can lead to some amusing juxtapositions on the shelf labels; for example, the religion and war categories are right next to each other. A particular favourite in the "Trades" section was the shelf labelled "meteorologist milkmen".

The building is a Grade II listed warehouse, built in the 18th Century for storing grain brought in via the Thames. In the picture library the support wooden beams have been left exposed, some of which looked as though they might even have been recycled from old ships — which, in fact, they had. These old masts also appear in the nearby church of St. Mary Rotherhithe.

Although originally created as a film studio, they do seem to rather trade on their past glories (their most recent film was The Children's Midsummer Nights' Dream nearly a decade ago, and they've only made nine features since 1976), and in fact it's their bread-and-butter work which is far more interesting, because they make period costumes using period techniques. Most of these are for lavish period dramas — often those where the clothes are in fact the best bit about them — but sometimes they also make clothes for museum displays, such as two costumes we were shown which will soon make their home in the Museum of London. I was fascinated to see the workshops and the equipment used, because it was really interesting to discover what some of the clothes and accessories were really made of — everything from dresses made from old velvet curtains (bloody heavy) to gold stars made from the gold foil of Ferrero Rocher chocolates. Just think about that the next time you watch Sweeney Todd or The Tudors.

Unfortunately, I was the only person during the tour to take any photos and the man giving the tour seemed to think this was a bit suspicious, perhaps because I tend to take photos of things that other people ignore; in this case, stuff like labels on drawers and the different types of buttons on display. I was trying not to be intrusive or interrupt his spiel as we went around, so I kept wandering away from the main group a bit as well, and looking back on it I can see why he must have thought I was being furtive. Although, when he started asking me quite personal questions about myself, I felt more like I was being picked on just because I was the only one actually taking any photos. So I told him that, although I'd be happy to do so if it was just him, I didn't want to talk in front of a big group of strangers, and he snapped and asked me not to take any more photos. At the time I thought he was over-reacting, but I suppose I really must have looked furtive and he might have felt like I was using the Open House tour as an opportunity to spy out some competition or something. As it happened my camera battery died at that exact point anyway, and in fact the light in there was too poor for most of my photos to even come out, which is a shame because I was really impressed with what they do and it would have been nice to show you.

However, this story does have a happy ending, because as we were was leaving, he came rushing out of the door saying, "hey, miss, I thought we were going to sit and talk about your photography!" I kind of wanted to make my escape because I thought he was going to tell me off again, so I politely declined with an excuse of another appointment (I did have to be somewhere else, just not that very second), and he actually looked disappointed and apologised for snapping at me. And I said I realised that he'd been giving tours all day and was probably exhausted so I quite understood. After I explained that I like to take pictures of the things most people overlook, he actually looked quite pleased and said, "well in that case, you must come back any time!" and we parted on very good terms after all (for a moment I almost thought he was going to hug me). And go back I shall, because it's a fascinating gem of a place and I'm gutted I didn't get any good photos. Also, they have a free film club!

We popped next door to the Brunel Museum even though it was too late for a tour, and happened upon Craig Smith packing up from the Geek Atlas book launch, having recognised him from the talk he gave at Interesting a couple of weeks ago (ostensibly about waterwheels, but rather endearingly about his dad). I didn't buy a copy, but it looks pretty nifty — although the paucity of addresses and contact information is a bit annoying. Not everyone wants to work out a location from longitude and latitude all the time.

And that was Saturday's Open House done for another year. I didn't plan to spend it all in one borough, but doing so actually made a lot of sense, particularly one like Southwark with so much to see, although next year I am going to try and see at least one place in my home borough as well, because, well, I should really, shouldn't I?

(Might try it again with eyes, as well.)

2. It's mating season for the herons in Regent's Park.
And presumably elsewhere too, but last week there was an RSPB trailer there with telescopes and binoculars to watch them closer. Annoyingly, they closed at 4:00pm so most of us didn't get a chance to watch the birds closer. I did get a couple of photos of one bird who was stalking the people with bread and seed at the edge of the lake. I also managed to get a neat vintage effect to my picture when I was messing around in Photoshop, which I am pleased with.

3. There are no decent sunglasses in the shops at the moment.
I must have tried on at least twelve pairs in several different shops and nothing suited me at all. Maybe I'm just being too fussy, but I don't suit really boxy square frames or completely round ones, either, and I need to have frames that dip a bit over the nose-bridge, as sunglasses with frames that go in a straight line right across the top just look bloody awful on me. I like quite big lenses, as my face is too round for small ones, but not ginormous ones that make me look like an insect. The only trouble is that all the ones with decent-shaped frames are ruined by tacky bling on the sides. I don't want fake gold trimmings and diamante on my shades. I just want a simple, classy pair that doesn't cost a bomb (£10 or less) — I always buy cheap ones because they end up broken or lost all too easily. Suggestions gratefully received, leave 'em in the comments…

4. Sometimes whining on Twitter leads to being invited to fun evenings drinking with lovely people in lovely pubs.

5. There is a cash machine near Borough tube, if you turn left.
(hat tip to the real gent for letting me know)

6. That thing about policemen getting younger is true.
I passed two coming out of Southwark police station on Thursday evening and they both looked about twelve years old.

5. Easter eggs come from Chocodiles.
But we still don't know why it's a rabbit that delivers them.

6. The Lord Clyde is a lovely pub with lovely staff.
It's a proper old-fashioned boozer with a nice range of beers and a back room that we could take over. (Southwark seems to have so many great well-preserved pubs tucked into the most unpromising corners; it's one of the things I miss most about living in Waterloo.)

7. As far as American-style dining experiences in London go, The Diner is preferable to Bodeans.
It's more relaxed and although the prices aren't way cheaper they do seem a bit more reasonable. Plus the cocktails are really good.

8. There is no sci-fi or action movie which cannot be improved by the presence of nuns.

9. In The Loop is very very funny and very very sweary.
First film I've seen in ages where the audience regularly broke out into spontaneous applause at their favourite bits. Peter Capaldi is brilliant — his character is an intensely unpleasant person but gets all the best lines so you can't help but cheer him on, even when he's being relentlessly nasty for no reason. There's a great bit near the end when the camera lingers on him in a beat of quietude that brilliantly demonstrates the hidden depths of his character and the stresses he finds himself under. I was a bit disappointed by James Gandolfini, who seemed a bit half-arsed and never quite filled his character with enough convincing life to escape the fact that he was being played by James Gandolfini. I did have a great time playing "spot the location" though — there are lots of times when parts of the Royal Festival Hall double up for departmental toilets and meeting rooms in Washington, or the United Nations building in New York. The distinctive carpets (designed by Peter Moro) are a dead giveaway.

10. The website for In The Loop is rather good, too.
Although be warned because it has audio which may cause colleagues to look at you funny. Though if you've a sense of humour you'll be laughing so loud they'll already be looking at you funny.

The story is a familiar one, set during 1905′s abortive revolution attempt; a classic tale of plucky underdogs versus corrupt ruling classes. Somewhere along the line a couple of the reels must have got swapped around as we were shown the arrests following the revolt before we'd even seen the actual revolt taking place. We were confused by this at first until we realised what had happened, and in actual fact it didn't effect the overall narrative too much. This was, I think, in large part down to the great acting, especially the focus on the characters' eyes and the way they were used to communicate. Visually, the tones of the black-and-white film bore quite a resemblance to the etchings and charcoal sketches of Käthe Kollwitz's, which was interesting as she was working in a later period. There seemed to be a lot more close-ups and less establishing shots compared to other films of the time, as well. Definitely worth checking out — you can watch it here. There's an interesting article on the director influence on 20th century filmmaking here.

Before the main programme, we were also treated to an enthusiastic introductory lecture from one of the cinema's directors, and four shorts from a north London film-maker, RW Paul. He was one of the first people in the UK to work with cinema cameras, and took the opportunity to experiment, taking his cameras out into his local neighbourhood of Muswell Hill. You can read one his patent applications here. I was hoping some of these would be viewable online, so you can see them for yourself, but sadly they don't seem to be. It's a pity, the one about the spiritualist is particularly splendid. However, there is a complete collection of his films available on DVD, which is worth a looksee, I bet.

In the nearby New Globe pub, those rebel reprobates from LUC are having their own breakaway event, SchmurgenCon. Looks like there'll be some good stuff on show, but am I the only one who thinks that the Schmurgen thing seems like an in-joke that's already past its sell-by date? Or maybe I'm just pissing on someone's chips. Nonetheless, it's still worth checking out if you're going to be in the area for the Thing, although I expect the LUC bunch will end up in the same pub as the people from the Thing later in the evening, and will probably be willing to sell you something then if you ask nicely. The pub in question being the big Wetherspoon's pub on Mile End Road between Stepney Green and Mile End tube stations, I forget the name of it but it's not an especially nice pub. The only thing it has going for it is that it's cheap and has a wider selection than most, which is why we always end up there post-Thing. Unfortunately there's not a whole lot of choice in Mile End, I guess.

In case you hadn't noticed, here at Mondo Towers WE LOVE MODEL TRAINS. So I was quite excited to find out (via @genmon) about the London Festival of Railway Modelling [warning, has audio], which takes place over the weekend. I've been meaning to go up to Alexandra Park all year, and this is a good reason to do so, but I'm not sure I can fit it in on Saturday if I'm already going to the Thing. Maybe if I get up early, and pray that London Transport is not completely broken.

The model trains event continues on Sunday, but I've already made a date with a friend to see a Russian film from 1926 at the Phoenix Cinema, one of those London institutions that I've never yet made it to, so I'm looking forward to it.

Also on Sunday, Wilton's Music Hall is having an Open Day. I visited during the Open House weekend last year (some photos here), and it's a truly fantastic, unique space. Well worth the trip to Shadwell, especially as it's free. Plus there are a couple of great pubs to visit in nearby Wapping.

Oh, and in case the title of this post didn't remind you, don't forget the clocks go forward on Sunday morning!

Us Now is not a perfect film, and it runs the danger of preaching to the already-converted and those in-the-know. Pundits are sometimes captioned with job titles or company names that have no context unless you already know who they are (which is a hell of an assumption to make of your audience), so that there's no explanation as to why they should be a particular authority over anyone else, and captions often don't linger on the screen long enough to read them, anyway. The narrative voice can be confusing; voiceovers are sometimes made with certain authority, but with no indication as to whose authority it is (which was particularly noticeable during the Conservative Party section, for some reason). And, obviously, the film doesn't cover everything. Each of the examples used in the film could easily warrant its own individual documentary, a fact which director Ivo Gormley readily acknowledges.

However, it's got a positive outlook and is eager to look to the future, to see what wonderful things might happen next, something that most of the people taking part in the post-screening Q&A session were not. It was unfortunate that the overwhelmingly positive message of the film was completely negated by the nay-sayers who dominated the Q&A, moaning about all the things that the film wasn't about, instead of appreciating it for the small celebration it is. The essential message of the film is that there are tools (blogging, forums, social networks etc.) which are easily available and can empower you to make change yourself; you don't have to wait for someone else to get the ball rolling for you. The people who complained about all the things missing from the film were themselves missing the point: instead of sitting in a cinema enjoying (or not enjoying) a film screening that someone else had generously provided for free, and then moaning about it, they could use those same tools to get their own agenda heard in the communities which support it, and do something creative and positive instead of complaining that no one else has done it for them. But what can you expect from people who insist on spending all their time only focussing on everything that is wrong with the world, instead of reaching for the celebratory once in a while?