Richmond Row at Night

Richmond Row is an interesting street. There is a section of it that we end up walking down each day when we walk home from the school, which is also where most of the pubs and clubs are. For the most part, London closes down fairly early in the evening (around 11 pm), but this section of Richmond stays open. On Friday and Saturday nights, it’s consequentially packed. We often walk home late on Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights around 3 am or later to find it still bustling in an intoxicated stupor. Sunday night is sometimes my favourite night to come home late, because it will be deserted except for a few people here and there scrounging for recycling. It’s been something that I’ve wanted to capture for awhile, and the other night was the first time that I actually braved my camera along the street to capture these images. This is a set featuring one of the more popular bars. It’s the beginning of an interesting exploration.

In the ‘Whistle‘ video that Karim and I did, one of the things that we talked about when writing the lyrics was the culture here on Richmond Street and it’s relation to what we wanted to explore with the song. These are the lyrics that ended up coming from that (to watch the video and listen to the song click HERE):

…as I walk home on Richmond/
street, it’s easy to see conditions/
of my social reality/
all the guys lust for the girls dressed scantily/
and as they all walk so tipsy/
Baha’u’llah’s words just hit me/
“…the people are wandering in the paths of delusion,
bereft of discernment to see God with their own eyes…”
I see people trying find a path through their lower passion/
for a chance to be set free/
but evidently, that just cannot be/
cause any pleasure of the body is temporary!/

This is an excerpt from a piece that I conceived in my mind while walking down Richmond Street one night (to see the orignal post click HERE):

“10:41 Thursday night: the city of London is drunk. A young girl, her top barely clinging to her body, stumbles uncontrollably from the sidewalk teetering into the oncoming lane of traffic, her mind no longer her own. Possessed by the alcohol they consume, I pass by as these bodies leer and stumble from the scene. Thursday night, Wednesday night, all in reverse it seems, the intoxication, the desire, the lust never slows, never dies. Searching desperately, or perhaps not desperately enough, yearning to satisfy the soul.”