It's almost like some kind of monolith. Or at least a group of monoliths that have been brought together to create a circle. It stands on the surprisingly green grass, elsewhere it's still parched and yellow following the heatwave, of Kensington Gardens and it looks very impressive when you first see it.
I try to make a point of always going to see the annual Serpentine Pavilion. I've been going for well over a decade and I even wrote about my visits in 2016, 2017, 2018, and 2019. The last two years, well, you may have heard. There's been stuff on. People haven't been getting out so much.
This year's pavilion has been designed by the Chicago born Theaster Gates and I learn, from the Serpentine's website, that it "references the bottle kilns of Stoke-on-Trent, the beehive kilns of the Western United States, San Pietro and the Roman tempiettos, and traditional African structures such as the Musgum mud huts of Cameroon and the Kasubi Tombs of Kampala, Uganda".
I'll be completely upfront and admit that I'm none too familiar with any of that vernacular sounding architectural stuff. Gates has given the building the impressively grand name of the Black Chapel and he sees it as a space for "contemplation and convening". Both, of course, would be possible. Convening easily - though this was a solo mission for me - but contemplation a little less so.
Which is a shame. But it's the commercial imperatives that stymie attempts at making the Black Chapel a place of deep peace. Though the serving counter is well hidden, you can buy almond croissants (£3.30), popcorn (£2), sandwiches, salads, wraps, and ice creams from within the pavilion and though I find it quite pleasurable to contemplate with the aid of snacks I'm not entirely sure that's the type of contemplation that such an impressive building should encourage.
I can't imagine eating a bag of Wotsits in Houston's Rothko Chapel and that, to me, is the kind of building that Gates is aspiring to here. The website, again, says as much. Although it also mentions Hungarian round churches and the "voodoo circles and roda de capoeira witnessed in the sacred practices of the African diaspora".
It's a lot to fit into one, let's face it, fairly simple, yet impressive, structure. As you enter the Black Chapel there is a bell laying outside one of the two openings. It's been salvaged from the former St Laurence church in Chicago's South Side and Gates is clearly trying to make us think about the closing down of public spaces across the planet.
But, again, how would you know that? The bell looks good and is apparently even rung to signify when the Serpentine are hosting performances. It would have been nice to attend during one of those performances, to see the Black Chapel in action as it were. Instead I simply took a seat to the side, feeling as if I was on some kind of Rotor funfair ride, gazed at the sky through the hole in the roof, and left by the opposite entrance to the one I came in through. It was good to be back in the Serpentine Pavilion and the Black Chapel is a gorgeous looking building. It would probably have been even better had I (a) gone with a friend and (b) attended during an 'activation'.
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