So long, and thanks for all the fish

Summer 2011 will be remembered for many reasons. News today is that this was the coldest summer for 18 years. We have seen riots in Britain's cities, revolution in Libya and repression in Syria. The East Coast of the USA was hit by earthquakes and a tropical storm. And then there was The Art Tour.

Three months of travelling around the UK by road and rail. Gallery visits and library work. Time spent with family, with friends. Getting to know the beautiful city of Cambridge a little better. Paintings, places, and people.

It has been a privilege and a joy to have this special time made available. The art has been inspiring and the reading instructive. People, both friends and strangers, have welcomed and encouraged. There have been shared meals, church services and other encounters. It's been a pleasure to share this time with so many of you.

The Tour is ending now. There are still books to be read - I bought one in Cambridge last week - and more galleries to visit. I never made it to Liverpool (too big a detour), to the Sandham Memorial Chapel (ran out of time) or to London (so much to see, so little time) and missed out on Dundee (due to poor research). For now though, it really is so long, and thanks for all your interest, your company, and your support.

If only they could talk

Paintings at Hogwarts School have characters that move around. They also talk to Harry Potter and his friends sometime supplying useful information. If only the characters in some of the paintings I've looked at this summer could do the same.

I'd love to ask the six figures in Francois de Nome's King Asa of Judah a few things.

1. Where is the church building in which the artist has put them? France or Italy seem likely but which is it?
2. Are the three soldiers defending the place or invading?
3. Who is the figure running from the explosion? Is he an early seventeenth century terrorist/rioter or just an innocent bystander?
4. Are King Asa and his henchman heroic reformers or representatives of a dictatorial regime?

Perhaps the answers to these questions would help solve the mystery of the painting's meaning. Then again, if the characters are anything like those at Hogwarts maybe not.

Desert Island Pics - the final countdown

Time to finish the selection for Desert Island Pics. The BBC programme that inspired these thoughts is on holiday, presumably on a desert island, but I'm still here.

Added to Dali's 'Christ of St John of the Cross', Degas' 'Red Ballet Skirts', Francois de Nome's 'King Asa', Sutherland's 'Noli me tangere' and Hughes' 'The Nativity' I choose:
The Glen, Port Glasgow by Stanley Spencer
Discovering Spencer's work has been one of the pleasures of the Tour. I hadn't realised just how much religious work he had produced and the range it covers. Resurrection paintings are so interesting and will bear further study in the future. But on the desert island I choose this small picture of everyday life in Port Glasgow during WWII. It's full of joy and will cheer me up as I sit alone under the palm trees.

Apples and Pears by Ben Nicholson
Nicholson and the other St Ives artists have no place in my sabbatical study but their work kept crossing my path in various galleries. Last week I returned to the amazing Kettle's Yard Gallery in Cambridge and this one caught my eye. It's so calm and serene and will help me chill out in the heat.

Le Printemps (Springtime) by Claude Monet
Monet has a been a favourite since my teens. It's been a great sadness that the Impressionist room at the Fitzwilliam has been closed all summer so to make up for the disappointment I'm going to borrow this painting from the store and take it with me. Beautiful colours, always a delight.

When do I leave?

Drawing to an end

Sabbatical time is nearly ended. Reading around all my paintings has been completed. All that remains is to write up the material gleaned this week in Cambridge on the work of Ronald Forbes. As the only living artist of the twelve I've studied the research task took a different shape. Much was available on the web but less in books. I established a link with the work of Gilbert and George which helped to ground the reading, spent time reading modern Scottish history and learned a little about Scottish art. Interesting to note that 'British Art' is generally English - I knew none of the names of those important in Scottish art since the war.

Cambridge was quieter than I've seen it recently. The tourists are fewer in number and the city centre was peaceful this week. Plenty of shoppers in the Grand Arcade - more families and groups of teenagers looking for sale bargains than overseas visitors in search of souvenirs. Traffic too was lighter and our journey out of the city last night easy. Great to have dinner with friends and catch up with news on our way home.

The week ahead will see the drawing together of the project. Already I'm putting together files of material I've collected over the past few months for future reference. Looking over these brings back positive memories of the wonderful places I've visited and all I've done this year. I'll be sad when it all comes to an end and intend to make the most of this final phase.

A trail of destruction

Sad this morning to see television images of destruction and violence. Not, this time, in far away places and war zones but on our doorstep. Spending time in some of the cities involved this year viewing beautiful art it's hard to watch the wanton vandalism.

Some hope in other images - newspaper photos of the 'broom army' coming together to clean up. Human beings are capable of so much good when put to it. We can only hope they prevail over the looters in the end.

Detours and deliberations

An unscheduled trip to Cambridge last Friday. Made good use of the time in Central Library reading up on British history from World War I to World War II. Plenty of books too on Stanley Spencer but none on Graham Sutherland. Detours of this sort have been a feature of the tour as paintings, books and opportunities cross my path out of sequence.

Back to Sutherland today with books on my own shelves. I acquired these as part of an earlier study on a Cain and Abel by Keith Vaughan. Vaughan and Sutherland were both part of a group of British artists labelled 'Neo Romantics'. They were all caught up in World War II one way or another. Sutherland was a War Artist, Vaughan served with the non-combatant Pioneer Corps. After the war their art reflected their experiences for a time. Sutherland produced several religious paintings, Vaughan just the one.

Many of Sutherland's paintings were commissioned for churches and they can be seen as 'religious' in every sense. Vaughan's painting seems more to draw on a well known story to offer a crtique of the times in which the painter lived. Another case that shows how difficult it is to determine what a 'religious painting' is or should be. Answers on a postcard?

But what's it about?

Art, like music and literature, is never about just one thing. Even when the subject matter is clear - a crucifixion, for example - the artist's intention can be subversive or supportive to the theme and that can change everything. Often, although the theme may be clear - depiction of a bible story perhaps - it is impossible to know why the artist chose that particular subject for the work.

So it is with Degas' David and Goliath. The representation of the subject is straighforward and the title clear. But it's impossible to know why the artist chose to begin this work or why he never finished it. Was he simply looking for a good story or was there some deeper religious intent? Degas later went on to specialise in figure painting so was this just an early example of that interest? Are there any theological concerns we can draw out of the work? I haven't resolved this - some connections with French history are possible but so speculative that they seem no more than just grasping at straws.

Holman Hunt's The Shadow of Death presents the opposite problem. There is no shortage of information in multiple books on the Pre-Raphaelites and on Hunt himself. There's even a booklet in the Fitzwilliam library written by the artist at the time of the painting's first showing that explains his purpose. This is a painting with a clear didactic purpose and an underlying ideology that valorises the working man. The symbolism is detailed and was probably well understood by audiences in 1873, maybe even today, but what of it's ongoing message? What is it about in the early twenty-first century rather than in the the late nineteenth century?

Deferring these and other questions while research continues. Talking about the sabbatical project back at the Shared Church yesterday made it all seem a bit less abstract. Catching up with friends in so many places while on Tour this summer has been a real joy. Thanks to all for listening to my ramblings at various points.

Desert Island Pics Revisited

 Thinking again about those essential paintings to take to a Desert Island. Already on the list are Red Ballet Skirts  by Edgar Degas and Christ of St John of the Cross by Salvador Dali, both of which are in Glasgow's galleries. King Asa of Judah destroying the idols by Francois de Nome wins a place because, despite all the research already undertaken, I will need the time that the desert island isolation offers to really make sense of it.

Added to these three most recently are Noli me tangere by Graham Sutherland and The Nativity by Arthur Hughes. I've yet to do the reading around Sutherland's works but this painting which exists in two forms at Pallant House and in Chichester Cathedral was an unexpected find. The former Dean of the cathedral Walter Hussey commissioned the work but the original version, now in the Pallant Gallery, didn't meet with approval at the cathedral. A new painting was produced and accepted but continued to be controversial. Anything that provokes such strong feelings must be worth a few years of serious contemplation.

This week's work has centred on the Pre-Raphaelites alongside Degas. Although Holman Hunt's Shadow of Death is fascinating it is Arthur Hughes' beautiful depiction of the familiar scene that is the more moving of the two. Described by many as the last Pre-Raphaelite Hughes' creates a moving simplicity that Hunt's complex and busy picture cannot match.

Still three more works to identify. The next batch of study will look at Stanley Spencer and Graham Sutherland. Finally there is a work by Hughie O'Donoghue, an Irish artist of recent times, to consider. Sadly the gallery at the Fitzwilliam displaying this work was closed this week. One of the pitfalls of a study of this duration is the difficulty of accessing works at the right moment. Not a problem when I spirit them away to that Desert Island.

Back in the nineteenth century

Turning back the clock this week to look at three paintings from the second half of the nineteenth century.

The Nativity by Arthur Hughes, the earliest, painted 1858.
David and Goliath by Edgar Degas, an early work of the artist painted 1864.
The Shadow of Death by William Holman Hunt, painted 1870-73.

Two of the works are English, one is French. I've spent today marshalling background information on the Victorian period and Pre Raphaelite Art in an effort to establish where there are gaps in my knowledge of the British scene. French history of the period is almost a total blank but more may emerge tomorrow. A reading day in Cambridge later this week should go some way to making good deficiencies.

At this stage, the three paintings seem to represent the main strands of changing religious thought of the period. Degas draws on a biblical story with no apparent spiritual intent; Hughes reflects the reinvention of tradition advocated by the Oxford Movement; Hunt uses his artistic skill to describe the role and identity of Christ much as a non-conformist preacher of the day might have done. Secularist, traditionalist and evangelist. Sounds remarkably contemporary.

Two thirds of the way through the sabbatical now. The Tour continues during August in Cambridge - the Fitzwilliam and Kettle's Yard - and back on the south coast to pursue Stanley Spencer. The absence of his work at Southampton was a disappointment but I hope a visit to the Memorial Chapel at Highclere will make up for that.

Back on tour

Pallant House Gallery in Chichester was a delight. Graham Sutherland's Deposition  is a focus work for my study and Dean Walter Hussey commissioned several works by the artist. Hussey's art collection was bequeathed to the Pallant and we found two religious works and one landscape on display today. A gallery label informed us that another painting was to be found in Chichester Cathedral just a few streets away.

Sutherland's religious work is challenging and has been controversial in the past. In particular his Crucifixion paintings with their visual reference to images from concentration camps published after World War II are harrowing. The very helpful Cathedral guide told us the their painting Noli Me Tangere was the subject of a knife attack in the early days and later suffered graffiti on the frame.

The day was a joy and more than made up for a disappointing visit to Southampton Art Gallery two days ago. The gallery there is undergoing building works, half the rooms were closed and nothing of relevance to my study is currently on display. At the Pallant we enjoyed an excellent lunch - the restaurant is small so booking a table was essential - and appreciated the setting of the paintings in both the original Queen Anne townhouse and the contemporary extension. Good to be back on tour.

Midsummer Medley

Cambridge this week had all the essential components that go to make it a strange yet wonderful city. Traditions - 800 years since the charter was granted for the annual Midsummer Fair, a degree ceremony handing out honorary degrees to the great and the good, May Balls in the oldest colleges. Tourists - parties of foreign exchange students, coach loads of more mature visitors and a few independent travellers all begin to descend just as the students leave for the summer. Traffic chaos - pedestrians and vehicles alike struggle to get around with the city so busy and this was made worse with the closure of the A14 on Friday afternoon.

All of this made for an interesting couple of days. A short walk from Michaelhouse to the Fitzwilliam after lunch on Thursday turned into an obstacle course and leaving the city by road on Friday was one of those Cambridge experiences I could do without. All said, it was great to be back on tour there and the work on William Blake progressed as hoped. Pleased to find myself at a halfway point with the initial research on 6 of my 12 focus paintings already complete and still just a third of the way through the sabbatical.

A pause now until the next phase of the Tour begins mid-July. Centered on the South Coast I'll be visiting galleries in Southampton and Chichester, studying art from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Pre-Raphaelites, Impressionists and Post War Britain all fall into the remit - more familiar territory than the Italian Renaissance so looking forward to getting started on all of that.

The Divine Comedy

William Blake, whose Ugolino and his sons in prison  is my focus this week, has provided some interesting connections to earlier work. The picture in the Fitzwilliam is one of over 100 illustrations Blake worked on in the last year of his life. Commissioned to illustrate a translation of  Dante's 'Inferno', the artist became obessessed with the project but failed to complete before he died in 1827. Commentators believe that Blake, a Dissenter, intended his drawings as a critique of Dante's apparent approval of the punishments meted out to souls in Purgatory.

Medieval thinking on Purgatory was responsible for the development of the system of Indulgences that so upset Martin Luther. The link here with my current work is with Carillo's Mass of St Gregory. This painting has an inscription on the reverse that describes the 73,000 years or more of indulgences available to anyone reciting prescribed prayers in front of the painting. From our Post-Reformation perspective all this is difficult to grasp but the sincere belief that underpinned it is beyond doubt.

Studying the art of the Medieval church gives a fascinating insight into beliefs and religious practice at the time. It also draws out some themes that will bear closer study - the veneration of the mass at a time when taking communion was generally an annual event not a weekly occurence, the doctrine of transubstantiation that arose from that and now, unexpectedly, ideas about hell. I hope to look more deeply at these themes over the next two days.

In Cambridge this week is the annual Midsummer Fair which is 800 years old this year, tomorrow is the Feast of Corpus Christi and Friday the Feast of the Nativity of John the Baptist. Hoping to connect with the city centre churches for at least one of those occasions. I've become much more aware of this cycle of Feast days on my visits to the city - there are five churches on my walk from the library to the museum so it's hard to miss.

Art, war and faith

Wars and rumours of wars. Strange that so many the paintings I'm working with were painted against a backdrop of war. And most difficult of all is the realisation that most of these wars are to some extent 'religious'. That's not a new thought but making my way through four hundred years of European history has brought the point home.

A newer thought is the recognition that painters (and their clients) respond to the situation of their day, often in the context of their own Christian faith. Some of the responses are apocalyptic - Francois de Nome's 'King Asa destroying the idols' and much of William Blake's work. Other artists reassert fundamentals of faith - Carillo's 'Mass of St Gregory; Van Dyck's 'Virgin and Child. Still others refer back to the suffering of Christ - Liberale da Verona and Guido Reni. And beyond the content of the paitings, there is the style.

Despite living in difficult times, painters in these earlier times still seek to create images that are beautiful. A reflection maybe of their perception of God or even a celebration of the human capacity to look for something of value at even the worst of times.

Weaving not drowning

Bringing together everything I've gathered to date for each of the focus paintings has been a slower process than anticipated.  I sometimes do feel I'm drowning in a sea of notes and books but so far I haven't gone under. Historical background, social and economic factors and the religious context all have a bearing on the art that is made but covering all bases means looking at a lot of books across the many subjects areas. We called this 'interdisciplinary study' when it was new but now it seems to be commonplace within all academic fields. 

I've succeeded weaving all I have collected so far into a single record sheet for each painting and have managed four so far - the ones by Carrillo, Liberale da Verona, Reni and Van Dyck. Just one left to tackle before I begin the next round of information gathering in a week. Themes are emerging like small islands but it's too soon to tell if they will be hospitable places to base further study.

Taking some time off  this weekend. Dinner with friends, a sewing machine to take for repair and a brief pause for reflection.

Over the hills and far away

Being in Cambridge on a Monday when the Fitzwilliam is closed work this week began in the library. A brief and exhausting tour of seventeenth century European history with a diversion into Catholic theology (doctrine of transubstantiation) towards the end. The next batch of paintings, all in the Fitzwilliam, were all painted in the early years of the century but each comes from a different country which made covering the historical background something of a challenge.

The Virgin and Child by Anthony van Dyck (Flemish). Van Dyck became famous for portrait painting in Britain in the last decade of his life, working for King Charles I (before he lost his head, obviously).

Ecce Homo (The Man of Sorrows)  by Guido Reni (Italian). Reni was famed for religious work, did a lot of work for churches and also for a cardinal who later beacme Pope.

King Asa of Judah destroying the idols by Francois de Nome (French but worked in Naples). Not too much information on this one as the artist is a shadowy character and his style unique. I love this painting, mostly because it is so odd and difficult to understand. Probably another candidate for the Desert Island list.

Something of a deviation from planned work on Tuesday morning after joining in singing  'Over the hills and far away' (the Sharpe theme) at a session on Monday evening. Realised I was very confused over the exact dates and places of the many wars in Europe over the centuries. Back to the library, found the information with reference to just three books and am now an expert on European conflicts between 1337 (start of the 100 Years War) and 1815 (end of the Napoleonic Wars).

Following the successful resolution of the matter I headed to St Bene'ts Church for morning communion and coffee. A most welcoming group of people and a delight to sit and chat with some of them before making my way to the Fitzwilliam for further study of the three paintings. Time ran out so there is more to do on this group of paintings before my next visit to Cambridge.

Desert Island Pics

Radio Four recently conducted a survey of listeners' choices of 'Desert Island Discs.' How about some 'Desert Island Pics' to go alongside these? Here are the first two candidates for my shortlist from this week's viewings.

'Christ of St John of the Cross' by Salvador Dali. Dali has long been a favourite and this work is outstanding. Detailed painting, carefully planned and executed with an impact that's difficult to describe. The current chapel-like hanging at the Kelvingrove brings out the intentional spirituality of the work. Many memories associated with the painting - first ever exhibition I attended was a Dali retrospective at the Tate, we chanced upon this painting for the first time on a family holiday that took an unexpected turn and a framed print has hung in all the homes we've owned since. I'd almost forgotten how beautiful it is.

'Red Ballet Skirts' by Edgar Degas.Less familiar to me than Monet or Renoir, the Degas collection at the Burrell was the first unexpected delight as the Scottish part of the Tour began last weekend. The Impressionist style (although Degas didn't care for the term so often used to describe his work) has had a special place in my journey of art appreciation since first encountering 'Water Lilies' at the National Gallery as a teenager. Degas liked to catch the dancers he depicted off stage rather than on and many of those he drew were older performers rather than glamorous younger women. Loved the warm colours of this one although others on display were equally beautiful.

Back south of the border now and looking ahead to a couple of weeks of reading, study, reflection and some time at the Fitzwilliam.

Mary and Mungo but no Midge

Two museums on opposite sides of Glasgow in one day. At the Kelvingrove, the famous Dali 'Christ of St John of the Cross' is the most striking work but the  Italian Renaissance rooms were  well displayed and explained. Titian, Botticelli and Bellini are all represented making links with last week's work in Cambridge on painting during this period. Images of Mary predominate with fewer of the suffering/crucified Christ than at the Fitzwilliam.

Moving towards the next historical block I'll be looking at, the room of Dutch paintings had some useful works and explanations. The Protestant/Catholic split of the Netherlands following the Reformation has interesting consequences in the art of the period and could take some untangling.

From the Kelvingrove to St Mungo Museum of Religious Life and Art. A much smaller museum that presents it's collections in a multi faith setting. One or two works with links to others I am viewing but the standout things about the place were unrelated to paintings. The exhibition of religious life was wide ranging and fascinating while the view of Glasgow Cathedral and the adjacent Necropolis (city of the dead) from the top floor was remarkable. Well worth the walk across the city.

So ends the Scottish part of the Tour. Back to the books next week.

An unexpected find

Perth Museum and Art Gallery. An interesting collection of local history, furniture and paintings. Two exhibitions currently running, one with possible links to my project. De Rerum Natura by Ronald Forbes is the outcome of two years work as artist-in-residence with the Scottish Crop Research Institute. Striking in colour and imagery, the paintings and digital-collages draw on themes from what the artist describes as 'the great stories that have formed and informed our culture for millennia'. Amongst these stories is that of Adam and Eve.

Use of biblical stories and motifs in our post-Christian culture has long been an interest of mine.Making links with this and another of the focus paintings, Hughie O'Donghue's Studies for a Crucifixion will require more research. Looking forward to that when I next hit the library trail. An unexpected find that opens up new thoughts and possibilities.

Enjoyed Perth - excellent lunch at a French bistro and even managed to avoid the torrential rain that began half an hour ago.

The Burrell Collection

The Burrell Collection at Pollokshaws, Glasgow is an art gallery and museum like no other. Set within the grounds of a country house the works on display were left to the city by Sir William Burrell, shipping magnate and lifelong collector. Religious paintings not too plentiful but a good number of pastels by Degas whose David and Goliath is a focus painting from the Fitzwilliam.

Enjoyed a good lunch and afternoon tea while there. Suits of armour were a fascination for one of us but the carved wooden and stone altarpieces, stained glass and tapestries were of more direct relevance to the project in hand.

The paintings mentioned previously can be viewed on the Fitzwilliam site:
The Mass of St Gregory
The Dead Christ Supported by Mourning Angels

Three days in

Introducing the Art Tour, three days in and with the first two study days completed. After nine months of planning, the sabbatical is officially underway.

Two days in Cambridge, one in Central Library and the other at the Fitzwilliam Museum. Reading up on Medieval and Renaissance art with a focus on Northern Italy and Spain. Massive subject area and no shortage of books. Aim: to understand the background to two paintings in the collection at the Fitzwilliam - The Mass of St Gregory and The Dead Christ Supported by Mourning Angels, both of which were painted just after 1480. Largely successful in this but still some questions. Maybe the next planned gallery visit to Glasgow's Burrell Collection will help.

Cambridge was beautiful in the sunshine, enjoyed dinner with friends in the city while there and had no problem travelling either way. Back home today, had a lovely afternoon at church with excellent cream tea and then ate dinner on the terrace in the sunshine . A great start.