A cat and a hat seen in Charing Cross Road

In London for the day there were several exhibitions I would liked to have seen, in particular the Sebastian Salgado at the Natural History Museum but family loyalty made me choose the Laura Knight portraits instead (see here for why). Laura Knight (1877-1970), on the left in the self-portrait with one of her models, may be the only wife of an artist couple whose fame exceeded her husband's. She rose from an impoverished one-parent family to become in 1936 the first female royal academician for almost 200 years and eventually both Dame and grande dame in her later years, when I once accompanied my father to meet her. She was initially notable for portraying the underside or interstices of society: performers, entertainers and women - dancers, clowns, gypsies and even African American nurses in Baltimore. Later as an official war artist she depicted women in the services and munitions factories, and she went to the Nuremberg war trials to sketch the proceedings. Her letters about her impressions of the defendants make fascinating reading. Although Laura Knight's early life was tough and unorthodox but she became an establishment figure, confined to painting the great and the good.

Christina Foyle, doyenne of the celebrated Foyle's Bookshop at the other end of Charing Cross Road from the National Portrait Gallery, was another woman who succeeded in a man's world, not of art but of business. I dropped in for a browse and to enjoy some excellent coffee and cheesecake in the cafe, only to discover that the whole vast store is on the move from its familiar corner of Manette Street to another location a short distance away. The frontage was covered with a series of graphics by contemporary artists illustrating the history of the book shop from its founding by the Foyle brothers, William and Gilbert, in 1904. Christina (1911-99) William's daughter, who was said to prefer the company of animals to people, started working there at the age of 17 and never retired. Her autocratic and eccentric regime attracted literary greats but antagonized her poorly-paid staff and outraged the book trade unions for whom she had no time. She held the reins until she died at 88, widowed but living in style alone but for a chef and 15 cats.

I have no idea if Laura and Christina ever met yet here they were, a short distance apart in Charing Cross Road - two remarkable women.

So busy at the moment, I'm falling very short on comments and it looks like being that way for some time to come. There are many journals I'm neglecting and I really feel that as my loss. I'm very sorry.