The first mention of Brighton and its Pavilion came to me in Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice”. To Elizabeth Bennet’s younger sisters it was a place of curious interest, revelry and a chance to meet handsome officers. The shores of Brighton have attracted Victorian populace across all ranks of society. Today it continues to be a hub of activity and has the reputation of being Britain’s gay capital. Why gay people prefer a town by the beach is not understood (Montpellier in France is another example). Neither do I wish to understand.
In all my travels in Britain if there is a place I have least enjoyed and begun to even detest then Brighton must have that singular honour. How tastes differ? If the Victorians were to see the town as it is today the initial cultural change would have been quickly overcome to yield their minds to the reckless funfair that prevails here. The Palace Pier wears a festive atmosphere but it is not one of celebration. It is simply another commercial web that characterises modern society. It is unreal, only a little reality clings to the surface by which we are caught in transient pleasures. Perhaps I might have enjoyed it in my younger days but I am thankful that those days are gone. To grow old is also to see a greater purpose of life. The beach is uninteresting, the water uninviting. The streets are dirty. The crowds are everywhere. After my recent hikes in the Lake District here in Brighton there is a sudden sense of restricted space.
Now, of course, the Royal Pavilion was what brought me here in the first place. That too has been a disappointment. It is a cheap imitation of the great treasures of India and China. When I say cheap, I do not mean in monetary terms. I allude to artistic execution, imitative craftsmanship, sensitivity to Asian cultural nuances and an overall appreciation of Asian values. It is clear from the start that the Royal Pavilion is a fancy of the Orient without the maturity of the same. How else can one judge a structure that is made to appear to be in stone but internally a structure of iron? How else can one react to the numerous dragons creeping, crawling and climbing all over the place? Worse still are the distorted forms of garudas, dragons, phoenixes and everything else that lie in between. Iron banisters are made to look like those made of bamboo. If there is a decorative scheme it is one of incongruity and imbalance. There are some fine pieces of Regency furniture but they don’t go well with the overall scheme. Most visitors will be impressed. It was a royal residence after all. They will go away with an overwhelming feeling of the exotic and the opulent, terms synonymous with Orientalism. However, they will not truly appreciate the Pavilion neither will they begin to love it for they have never seen Asia in her true form of subtle beauty and grace. A building as this is not fit for loving and given Queen Victoria’s good taste it is not surprising she left it.
An experiment in fusion is rarely successful. At most, it remains just that, an experiment. It may be possible to combine Indian and Chinese forms to create a rare item of beauty for in Buddhism they have much in common; but to combine these with Greek or Roman classicism and to place them in an English setting on such a large scale calls for boldness and eccentricity. In fact, even within India, I wonder if there exist buildings that successfully combine elements of Islamic architecture with those forms predominant in Hindu temples?
At least I will remember Brighton for an excellent lunch at the Frankie&Jonny Cafe Bar.
