Wednesday, February 26, 2025

Swans...

This incredible painting is in the William Morris Gallery at Walthamstow. Painted by Frank Brangwyn in 1921, the work appears very modern with its splashes of bright sunlight dappled on the swans' plumage, and the typical movements of the birds is caught perfectly with the broad, powerful wings ready to flap and thrash.
The luminosity on the wings is brought out even more thanks to the golden russet colour of the nasturtium flowers. The shadows of other leaves in the undergrowth are visible, running over the swans' bodies.
T

Water House... William Morris Gallery...

In Walthamstow, north-east London, is the William Morris Gallery set in a grand Georgian house, that was briefly the Morris family home from 1848 to 1856. I decided to visit as I did not have the time to visit Red House - the stunning architectural work commissioned by William Morris in 1859 to reflect the aesthetic principles that would form the basis of the Arts and Crafts movement. Rossetti said of the home to which he was a frequent visitor - along with the other Pre-Raphaelites – that is was “more of a poem than a house”.
Water House (now the William Morris Gallery) in Walthamstow, situated at the entrance to Lloyd Park, is large and looming but I could not really imagine any type of family life there, probably because of the exhibition rooms and displays throughout. However, it is said that Morris spent time sitting in the tall window, on the main staircase... I hope it was this one!
William Morris, born in 1834, would have developed some of his ideas during the brief years there, since these coincided with his university studies at Oxford. As a student, he formed friendships and made acquaintances that exposed him to social, historical and artistic theories that would shape his vision and values in a radical manner. I wonder what Morris would think of the exhibition - Morris Mania? Or rather, how his work has been used by companies – past and especially present - whose values could not be further from his own?
Despite his mother’s yearning to see her son a bishop,Morris abandoned his theological pursuits and thus his initial goal to be ordained, just like Edward Burne-Jones, his closest friend and aesthetic ally. Yet turning towards architecture instead, he discovered that he possessed a greater drive still for interior decoration in its many aspects… and of course, poetry. Through Burne-Jones, Morris met Rossetti and, above all, read the writings of John Ruskin. These encounters led him to a quasi-religious life-long quest for social reform through design, rejecting the dehumanizing force of Victorian industrialized manufacturing and its dire effect on art and society on every level.
This virtually moral mission led him to revolutionize the design and production of wallpapers, textiles, ceramics, furniture, metalwork, and glass throughout his life, taking inspiration from Medieval art but also early Islamic work. Through Ruskin, Burne-Jones and Morris discovered the Pre-Raphaelite devotion to the purer age of Medieval art and workmanship and applied the tenets of this movement as a guiding principle, no more so than in Red House. In 1862, Morris and six partners founded an interior decoration business which was referred to as The Firm (Morris, Marshall, Faulkner & Co) and led a crusade against ‘Victoriana’ with its clutter and irrelevance. Commissions for church decoration and refurbishment brought in a wider clientele, as did work carried out for rooms in St James’ Palace and South Kensington Museum (the future V & A). Ironically, the production methods of The Firm – with handcraftsmanship and natural materials where possible - meant that only the wealthier members of the population could afford its offerings. Lower prices relied on mass volume production, which would bring in the very ills – aesthetic, social and environmental – that Morris was trying to combat. I cannot imagine how Morris would have welcomed the commercial deal between H&M and the modern-day Morris & Co in 2018. Fast fashion linked to the name of the father of socialist design methods; didn’t anybody see the irony? And then to quote William Morris himself to justify mass-manufacturing is quite something! "I do not want art for a few, any more than education for a few, or freedom for a few".
In his time, Morris remained true to his vision and never knowingly sold his soul for financial returns, despite expanding the business through grand retail shops and seeking international recognition for the company. He was a prodigious writer – and ironically, was actually more famous in Victorian times for his writings rather than his art. This seems incredible today, when indeed Morris Mania has led his designs to be seen everywhere; anywhere and on anything… Kelmscott Press enabled him to design his own type and print beautiful work, as ever in line with his fascination for a pure brethren – the ideal community of traditional craftsmen and story-tellers. This did remind me of J.R.R Tolkien – and I was interested to learn that Morris’ poems and writing on myths and legends were indeed a significant influence on the younger writer.
In the same spirit, his rural atelier in Surrey, favoured a move away from the grime and grind of London in the 1880s for himself and his employees, and as such Merton Abbey provided a purer working environment, allowing Morris to study traditional textile production and dyeing techniques. Not sure that Morris could even have imagined today’s sweat shops that churn out the apparel that is readily ‘consumed’ and discarded… This could not be further from Morris’ optimistic vision of the future nor his faith in man’s progress. Indeed, aged 50, and already a successful businessman, Morris fully espoused Socialist values and for the rest of his life actively campaigned for social reform, expressing his beliefs widely. He condemned the exploitation of the underprivileged in an industrial age which brought about unprecedented pollution, poverty, disease and moral decay, stating that. "….there should be neither rich nor poor, neither master nor master's man, neither idle nor overworked, all men would be living in equality of condition, and would manage their affairs unwastefully…"
And what on earth would William Morris think of the use of Artificial Intelligence in art? When I see the AI'enhanced' Morris designs on offer, I could cry… Yes, artists may have used photography in the past/present to help them recreate a vision, yet that surely cannot be compared to AI, which does not simply reflect reality, but actively creates its own version of this, with or without the artist in question.

Purrfect...

This was an utterly imperfect drawing of the most perfect cat. Although I have been told it bears little resemblance, retouching anything would be like erasing him, now that he is no longer here. Ultimately, the imperfections that glare out at me just underline, yet again, how truly perfect he was and remind me of the precious moment as he lay down next to me on my desk... the most perfect cat...

Wednesday, January 29, 2025

Papery Petals

Every year, without fail, I get drawn to the same types of flowers on display at the garden centre, and the perfect 'tissue paper' ruffled petals of the ranunculus get me each time.
Those whorls of delicate pastels (or darker colours) that remind me of crazy crinoline petticoats fascinate me, all set amongst those vibrant green 'parsley sprig' leaves. Beautiful!

Tuesday, January 21, 2025

Light on Water, Glowing Gorse...

Just a glance at this beautiful painting - The Fowling Pool of 1897 - along with others from the Flora exhibition at Penlee House Gallery and Museum plunges you into typical Cornish landscape, with the stunted bushes, scrubby gorse and of course light reflected on water, be that of pond, puddle or sea.
Samuel John'Lamorna' Birch (1869-1955) captured that particular atmospheric quality that makes Cornwall so instantly recognisable in any representation, be that on film, photo or canvas, as here in a later version of The Fowling Pool (1907).
The distinctive effect of light on gorse is so familiar that it seems timeless, as in the 1922 painting above, Chy-an-Mor, by Harold Harvey (1874-1941).
I imagine I can hear that strange crackling noise the gorse seed pods make in the summer as they split open, not to mention that peculiar coconut smell of the bright yellow flowers that nestle amongst all those spines.
The same atmosphere is apparent in another of Birch's paintings, the above Spring Morning of 1904 which represents a view near Lamorna (unsurprisingly!) although it always reminds me of the landscape around Zennor, looking down towards the sea...
Likewise with A Landscape with Foxgloves by Alfred Munnings (1878-1959) with its majestic flowers that I instinctively associate with Cornwall, even though I have to admit that they can be found everywhere! The hunched and huddled forms of the hedgerow trees are surely unique however, and again their whole essence is caught by 'Lamorna' Birch in his work The Orchard c.1895.

Sunday, January 19, 2025

Teasels and Frost...

The teasel must be one of those plants that look striking whatever the period of the year, but perhaps even more so in the winter months. With their sculptural silhouette of long spiny stems, they stand on the edges of fields or on wasteland, proud and aloof. Their stark, spiky bracts curve up around the head - the inflorescence - elegantly crowning its top.
All of this was magnified by the thin dusting of frost that still clung on later in the day, making everything seem a little more magical...
Equally elegant was the spindly, frosted cow parsley that looked like tattered lace, draped with slivers of icy spiders' webs and frozen droplets. For all the magic, the temperature was a harsh snap into reality and I couldn't wait to get home into the warmth!

Wednesday, December 25, 2024

Peace and Beauty... Assumption of the Virgin

Wondering why I just cannot 'feel' the Christmas mood anymore, be it in France or England, nor experience any desire to spend time trudging around shops, I wandered around the Victoria and Albert Museum for hours instead! Although I failed to recover the festive spirit in any sense whatsover, I did have a wonderful visit, especially on returning to the stunning Cast Courts. This time, the calm and beauty of one of the vast copies on display caught my attention; a section of a Baldacchino (tabernacle) representing the Virgin and angels, in a sculpted depiction of the Assumption. Almost 700 years old, the original work completed in 1359, is set in the Orsanmichele Church in Florence, commissioned just after the passing of the Black Death. The tabernacle structure served to frame a painting of the Madonna (by Bernardo Daddi), but I think it wholeheartedly stole the show! The details of the cast of the carved marble, with intricate features further highlighted by what was originally inlaid gold, glass, and lapis lazuli, creates a uniquely delicate effect that perhaps reflect the influence of the artist's background as son of a goldsmith. The sculptor responsible for its creation was Andrea di Cione - known as l'Orcagna - (c. 1308–c. 1368), and although he was known for his work as painter, poet and, of course, sculptor, his name is perhaps largly overlooked today...
In fact, the Assumption is just one of two scenes represented on the large sculpted relief of the tabernacle for in the lower section of the work is the Dormition of Mary, with her demise. In the upper section, as shown here, we see the Virgin as she levitates within the oval form that is symbolic of sacred figures - the mandorla (Italian for 'almond') - which is grasped by the angels that bear her to heaven. I love the angels' expressions and postures as they busily accompany Mary in her spiritual ascent, their forms floating on the clouds that shroud their angelic feet! Well, after over 4 hours in the museum, my own feet were feeling decidedly unangelic but I felt so elated to see such incredible works that lift you no matter how you initially feel....