Update on The Sherlock Holmes Museum in London

Back in February of this year I wrote a review of The Sherlock Holmes Museum in London (You can read it in this blog by clicking this link). I gave reasons why it was a very good place to visit; I did, however, add a few criticisms. Well, recently, John Aidiniantz of the museum added this comment to my blog entry: "This is a good and well-balanced review of the museum and the criticisms have been accepted and addressed by the museum." Because the blog was so many months ago and therefore people may not read Mr. Aidiniantz's recent comment, I thought it was only fair to include it in a new blog entry highlighting that the museum has replied. After all, if one of the people involved in the running of the museum can take the time to reply, providing an update on the points made in the blog, then it should get a mention.

Street Acts on The South Bank

London has always been a place for street entertainers to perform. Certain areas, such as Covent Garden or the South Bank, have earned a good reputation for street acts and I went to the South Bank last week to watch the acts (again). There is a mix of good and bad, as there is in any place that has street acts, but in this case the bad are truly abysmal.

The trend for living statues seems to be prevalent in most cities; South Bank is no different, the problem is that all but three acts were living statues. That is where the truly abysmal were to be found. Some people who, judging from the way they were behaving, were obviously not performers of any kind were simply wearing fancy dress and standing by a bowl or container waiting to be given money. The downside to people doing that is twofold. Firstly, it uses a location that should be filled by a genuine street performer. Secondly, the somewhat less than friendly and sometimes very direct demand of ‘give me money’ when there has been no talent or performance on display to reward, undermines the ‘good will’ that has to exist between street acts and the general public; without that good will, people are less inclined to stand and watch an act and less inclined to give money if they do stay and watch.

A genuine performer doing a living statue act remains immobile when approached. If money is dropped in the money tin or hat, the performer may then do some form of movement in acknowledgement.


Here is a photo of a performer who does just that.

She remained absolutely still while people queued to have their photograph taken beside her. If someone dropped money into her bowl, she performed a series of bows in a robotic fashion, as if she was some kind of Victorian mechanical automaton. If no money was given, she stayed motionless in accordance to the role she had given herself. There is no attempt to badger people to give money. (I have referred to this performer as ‘she’, but under the very good quality costume and make-up there might have been a man!)

In contrast to this, the ‘fake’ performers immediately draw attention to their money bowl when anyone goes near them or looks in their direction. They can also be awkward about letting someone take a photograph if they have not been given any money.

Another good performer was dressed as Charlie Chaplin. He drew quite a crowd and gave an entertaining, humorous show. Not far away, three men gave a slightly unstructured performance of juggling and contortionism; nevertheless, they put on a good show which attracted a large audience. A forth crowd-puller was a living statue, a wizard, who moved in response to fun music.

It is in watching the good street acts, the genuine performers who have put effort and talent into developing an act, that makes me wish that the ‘waste of space’ performers, who are merely begging in disguise and not performing, could be moved on; that would make room for more genuine performers – which might provide more variety of acts on the South Bank.

Here is a selection of some of the photographs I took when walking along the South Bank.



Here are two members of the juggling and contortionist act. The majority of the people watching them were next to me on the pavement. Bizarrely, no one chose to stand on the grass to watch them, despite people jostling each other trying to get a good view. The large metal bowl that the contortionst is being carried in, was the same bowl used after the act to collect money.

Here is another picture of the excellent street performer mentioned above. For the first photo, I had to wait ages for her to be alone so I could take the picture. Tourists were gathered in front of her, waiting to have their photograph taken with her. I held my camera in position, hoping for a moment long enough to take the photo as one person walked away and another stepped up for a photo. After that, I gave up and just took pictures with the crowd in shot.

Here is a photo of someone wearing what looks like an outfit from a fancy dress shop and hoping to be mistaken for a street performer. The body language says it all. Do you consider this a performance? Would you give money to him?



Far more effort went into this; I did not have an opportunity to see how the performer interacts with a member of the public.



The 'Rocking' wizard who danced to some very pleasantly weird upbeat music. He is situated very near to the London Eye.

Abracadabra Magazine, the last incantation.

Davenports, the owners of Abracadabra magazine.

Abracadabra, 2nd February 1946 to 28th March 2009.

This week sees the publication of the last ever issue of the longest running British national magic magazine, independent of any magic club or magic society, Abracadabra; it was hailed as the only magical weekly in the world, its contributors were diverse in character ranging from Ali Bongo to Jerry Sadowitz, and its readers fondly nicknamed it Abra. After 63 years and 3,296 issues the weekly magazine came to an abrupt end with little warning to its loyal readers. In the previous week’s issue it was announced that the magazine was being bought by entrepreneur Stephen Martin. Then there was gossip on internet discussion boards that the business deal collapsed on the evening of Sunday 22nd March, one day after the announcement of a buy-out. They were all asking would Abra cease publication and in a last minute change to the magazine’s editorial, this week’s issue contained the sad announcement that it would indeed be the last one. Word quickly spread on discussion boards on the internet; the reaction is one of disappointment and has been described by one magician as “a tragic loss to the magical community.”

The magazine was the creation of Charles Goodliffe Neale and the first issue went on sale on February 2nd, 1946. He successfully maintained the weekly magazine until his death in 1980, after which the famous magic dealers of London, Davenports, bought the business from the Goodliffe family. Established in 1898, Davenports is a family business that has had four generations of magicians and dealers of magic apparatus and books. Their shop once had a prestigious location opposite the British Museum. It is now located in the Charing Cross Underground Arcade.

Magic is about secrets and it is unfortunate that one secret that Daveneports kept in the past number of years was that Abra was in trouble. When magician and Magic Circle member Walt Lees was made editor, he was given a year and then a second year to change the fortunes of the magazine. In this week’s final issue Walt wrote in his editorial that the publishers had “placed their trust in me and I did my best. Sadly my best wasn’t good enough.” Noble as it is for Walt Lees to take some responsibility for the magazine’s demise, the truth is that no blame should be put his way. An editor of magic magazines with nearly thirty years experience, he ensured that Abra maintained a high standard of style and content whilst meeting the needs of the readers, who often let him know what that was and being a good editor he listened.

Richard Kaufman, magician and publisher of the American magic magazine The Genii, has expressed the opinion that the internet contributed to Abra’s reduction in sales, citing Duncan Trillo’s website MagicWeek as a competitor for weekly news of magic in Britain. Others have expressed the opinion that Abra is another periodical which has become victim to the recession.

So what happened? Was it the recession? Was it the internet? Well, personally, I think not; for once, it was not entirely those bugbears. The Goodliffe website, property of Davenports, consisted of three pages, none of which was particularly informative about Abra. It was also very out of date; it still named Donald Bevan as editor, even though he had handed over the reins of Abra to Walt Lees some time before. The only weblink on the site for inquiries about Abra was to the Davenports website. If that link was followed it led to Davenports main page, where a less than noticeable link (now removed) could be found regarding subscriptions to Abra.

Neither website followed the standard advertising and sales methods used by other publishers of magic magazines such as The Genii, Magic Magazine or Magicseen. There was no description of the magazine, no details of the latest issue and its contents, no sample articles or photos, nothing that would entice new readers to subscribe. A free copy of Abra could be sent on request for perusal but such a sales technique is never cost effective and very behind the times in comparison with the online methods used by the above named rivals of Abra. Could it be that Davenports were relying on Abra’s reputation to bring sales? If so, it is a sales approach that has brought many a good product to an end. Every week brings a new generation of readers for periodicals and they tend to make their choices of what to buy based on what is advertised and advertised well.

Last year I met mentalist Chris Cox at one of his shows and said I was submitting a review to Abra, which was later published; subsequently, in an exchange of emails with me, he asked how to get a copy. It speaks volumes in regard to Davenports' advertising of Abra that a successful performer from a new generation of magicians, who has won awards, performed on radio and television, who has undoubtedly researched magic in building an act, has heard of the name but does not know the details of a magic magazine in its sixty second year of publication or where to buy a copy.

And the true shame of it all is that Abra was probably the best magic magazine in existence. It contained a minimum of advertising and a maximum of news. On news subjects that internet sites would only give a paragraph, Abra gave pages, sometimes a whole issue. While magic societies have occasional newsletters available only to its members, Abra connected all the magic societies in regards to weekly news and events. There was also up to date, sound advice from experienced performers on the small but nevertheless very relevant topics overlooked by other magazines. If one thing has to be chosen as iconic of Abra it was the debates that were thrashed out in articles and letters that appeared in its pages. Strong opinions, controversy and arguments on all aspects of magic had always been an ingredient of Abra.

Now it is all gone. The secrecy surrounding Abra’s financial health stole any opportunity from its readers of finding a way to save it. I am sure that if a small number of like-minded subscribers banded together and pooled their resources early enough, Abracadabra could have been saved. It was the one time in the history of magic that keeping secrets was a bad idea.

The Dali Universe

Not far from the London Eye is the Dali Universe. The exhibition has a most disappointing start. Two dimly lit corridors are decorated with photographs of Dali and various quotes by him about himself and his art. Most of the second corridor is a chronology of Dali’s life printed on large boards and there’s barely enough light to read them. In seeing these I became concerned as to what the exhibition was going to be. At £14 per adult to get into the exhibition was it going to be an expensive rip-off, consisting of just photos and blurbs? Thankfully, no.

The main room beyond those corridors is where Dali’s art can be found. There are drawings, paintings, and sculptures. They don’t disappoint. Some of it is not as dynamic or engrossing as can be found in other Dali collections. Nevertheless, I felt it was worth seeing. Of particular interest to me was his small paintings based on Dante’s Divine Comedy. They are surrealist interpretations of the engravings by Gustave Doré. It is a shame that prints of Doré’s originals were not on display to allow a comparison. The exhibition does do this with his other pieces when his artwork is inspired from a famous engraving or print.

There is only one large painting. It was commissioned to be used in a dream sequence in the film Spellbound by Alfred Hitchcock. The stairs by the painting lead down a room below where a small number of prints by Picasso are on display.

The way out of the exhibition is through a shop. If you would like to own a lithograph based on a picture by Dali then it will only set you back a tidy sum. I didn’t look at all the prices. The ones I looked at varied from three figures to four figures; for lithographs … you know … prints, where there’s more than one of each so they’re not unique, by another artist, based on pictures by Dali.

The Sherlock Holmes Museum in London

Jill and I enjoy watching Sherlock Holmes films. To be honest, I’m more of a fan than Jill for mysteries involving Holmes and Watson. Jill is a fan of the films. I also like the books. I haven’t merely read the books, I also have modern facsimiles of the original Strand publications of the Conan Doyles stories. And a complete collection of the uniform set of paperbacks by Penguin Books that was issued some decades ago. And books about the books. And DVDs. And so on. Now stop right there! Before you picture me as a die-hard Holmes fan who goes around wearing a deer-stalker hat and quoting Holmes at every opportunity I would like to point out that I don’t take my interest that far.

I like reading, I read a variety of topics, and Sherlock Holmes is just one among many interests. Okay, I’ve worn a deer-stalker hat once. Only once. Yes, okay, I’ve had my photograph taken wearing a deer-stalker hat. And that was when Jill and I went to The Sherlock Holmes Museum in Baker Street, London. However, all that the photograph did for me was prove that I shouldn’t wear a deer-stalker hat. It just doesn’t suit me. Most hats don’t. Even the Victorian top hat didn’t look good on me. Yes, okay, I tried on the Victorian top hat in the museum and had a photograph taken of that too. Neither photograph appear here because of how much they don't suit my face. Or rather how much my face doesn’t suit a good hat. I prefer to blame the hats.

Anyway, The Sherlock Holmes Museum is worth visiting if you enjoy the films, television series or the books. Like any museum or exhibit there are good points and bad points. The good points of The Sherlock Holmes Museum far outweigh the bad and the bad points could easily be put right.

To begin with the good points. The shop is on the ground floor and the rest of the building, right up into the attic, is the museum. The entrance fee to the museum part of the building is very fair; probably the lowest fee I know of in London. Even if you’re only interested in Victoriana, the museum could be of interest to you because most of the knick-knacks and everyday objects in the rooms are genuine articles from the correct period of the Holmes stories of 1881-1904. Also, the building used for the museum was actually used as a lodging house during the Victorian period and later (from 1860 right though to 1934) and so the layout of the rooms isn’t merely in accordance with the descriptions in the stories of the lodging house at which Holmes resided, it does give some genuine idea of the look and feel of a Victorian gentleman’s rooms.

In amongst the bits and pieces which provide an authentic look to the rooms are modern fakes, such as letters by Holmes to Watson. Also on display is a small selection of books from the publishing history of Holmes by Conan Doyle and others. Wax figures are to be found in some of the upper rooms; they each portray a scene from the stories. Their design matches the original illustrations from The Strand Magazine. I must admit that I don’t find such figures interesting but then I’m in a minority with that opinion. What was interesting and entertaining was Dr. Watson. Yep, an elderly gentleman hired to portray Watson was delighting some of the visitors with his friendly chit-chat about the adventures he had ‘shared with Holmes.’ He had a sense of humour and I think he was basing his Watson on that of the portrayal by Nigel Bruce in the films co-starring Basil Rathbone. Regrettably, Holmes wasn’t present to greet us; the museum is presently advertising a vacancy for someone to portray him.

We found every room interesting. There was a lot to take in and we just didn’t have time to scrutinise every little thing.

That was one of the three bad points. You would have to be Sherlock Holmes to spot every little detail portrayed in the rooms; or at least an astounding expert on the stories by Conan Doyle with a photographic memory. This was because very little was labelled. I imagine it would impossible to do so because the sheer amount of small items in the rooms. An audio commentary for each room, as can be found in other museums, might improve the situation. To be fair, such audio commentaries are expensive for a museum to acquire and maintain so perhaps that might be why there isn’t one.

The second bad point is one shared by most museums, especially those in London: the price of some of the items in the shop. The items for sale are great; you can buy the Sherlock Holmes stories in various editions, buy books about Sherlock Holmes, DVDs, replicas of Victoriana and so on - just don’t expect to find a bargain. Some of the items, well, most in this case, are available elsewhere at lower prices. Again, to be fair, most museums, if not all, are simply not in a position to give the reductions on prices to be found in ordinary shops. The almost annual reduction in funding to museums over the past number of decades has meant that they have had to become more commercial.

The third bad point was some of the staff. The woman who sold us our tickets couldn’t have been more strict and stern with us as she spoke. In the rooms above, a young man dressed in period costume, was more interested in reading a paperback than interacting with the visitors. It felt somewhat uncomfortable to have to interrupt his reading to ask him about some of the exhibits. One excruciatingly embarrassing moment took place in the shop. A male member of staff who looked middle-aged, the only person not in period costume and wearing bright white trainers, left the till unguarded at the back of the shop so he could, quite audibly to all the visitors in the shop, try to impress/chat up a very quiet and less than happy looking teenage girl sat at the front of the shop. The girl, dressed as a maid, stayed very quiet as he spoke to her in soft and gentle tones. His verbal fawning and her discomfort were just too much and so it was time to leave. We went to the till at the back of the shop and he was obliged to follow. The tone of his voice to us as we paid for our items was not soft and gentle. His manner was brusque and his tone a little gruff. Perhaps he didn’t like his private life being interrupted by work during work hours.

As we left, we fulfilled the obligation of a simple courtesy that is customary; in order to leave the shop we had to walk pass museum staff that we had spoken to earlier and so we said thank you and goodbye. There was no reply. We were ignored. That’s a first; even in London.

In the museum the building is great, the exhibits are great, what you can buy is quality and the entrance fee is very reasonable; I do recommend the place to anyone interested in Sherlock Holmes or the late Victorian period – however, if you do visit, brace yourself with quite a bit of patience regarding the behaviour of some of the staff.

A link to the museum’s website:

http://www.sherlock-holmes.co.uk