Der Blaue Reiter at the Lenbachhaus, Munich

A trip to Munich wouldn't be complete without a visit to the yellow Lenbachhaus to see the fabulous collection of works by the Blue Rider group of artists. This is where the group formed in the early years of the 20th Century and the collection really is quite extraordinary in its scope. The ground floor is where the exhibitions are, the first floor is for contemporary art, but the prize is on the second floor, so just keep walking up those steps, where you're confronted with more colour than exists in the world - Der Blaue Rieter!

The first room at the top of the main stairs is a collection of early paintings by Kandinsky and Gabrielle Munter (his first wife) and I was surprised at how figurative they were. I shouldn't have been since everyone has to start somewhere, but I was. The paintings are small and jewell-like and I loved the almost Impressionistic landscapes he completed in this period, with vibrant colour as well as exploring the make up of the landscape in shapes.

The largest room has a collection of Kandinsky paintings grouped together and what a riot of colour they present. What is it about colour and shape that can bring joy and a smile to the face? It made me wonder what an astonishing journey those artists took, moving from figurative works to abstraction in such a short time. What was the thought process behind that journey and how did it start? For some artists it was an intellectual journey and for others it was emotion and the emotional intensity colour can produce when used in different ways.

These paintings are both sketches for 'Composition VII' and I'd be delighted to have either on my living room wall.

Walking round the rooms my eye spied some sparkling colours on the wall through a doorway and, like a magpie, I headed straight for it. It's a small painting by Richard Delaunay in 1914 called 'Window Overlooking The City' (there's a similar painting in the Tate collection in London). You need to look at it properly and take your time so start seeing the shapes of buildings hidden amongst the colours, with a church steeple and other buildings gradually becoming clear. I'm a great fan of Sonia Delaunay (his wife) so it was delightful to find this painting.

There was also a small moment of joy to see 'Blue Horse' by Franz Marc, one of the iconic symbols of the Blue Rider painters from one of the founders of the group. It was larger than I expected it to be but he's a quite majestic beast in his uniquely blue way.

There's a lovely small collections of paintings by Paul Klee from different stages of his career and I particularly liked 'The Rose Garden' and 'The Wild Man'. They're both small paintings. 'The Rose Garden' was painted in 1920 and is made of shapes in different shades of creams and reds, sometimes moving to purples, and, put those shapes together and you see a small village overplayed with small, round roses. It's a very complicated painting and must have been quite difficult to create. It works well as a small painting and the choice of frame is quite inspired.

'The Wild Man' from 1922 is a very different painting, again quite small and quite beautiful in its own way. Multiple arms and legs, horns and direction arrows, wild hair and beard, it's an altogether strange painting, a depiction of a dream or vision and clearly quite wild.

There are more wonderful paintings by Mr Klee on display and part of me wondered whether there were any more - and how many - were in safe storage? Klee lived in Munich at the same time as Kandinsky so it's certainly possible.

The Blue Rider collection is extensive and includes paintings by artists who's work I haven't seen before, including a self-portrait by Marianne von Werefkin from 1910. I looked at this painting for a few minutes and couldn't decide if she was a scary lady or not - the red eyes and direct gaze are very confusing. What is she trying to convey through this direct and very colourful painting? Your guess is as good as mine and just as valid. The long neck and thin face, red hat with it's flower at the brow, the red lips and eyes and the blue-green background - what does this say to you. I think I need to try and find a photo of her - I suspect she was quite beautiful and quite driven with her art. I need to do some research.

I was very conscious that I was wandering round this astonishing collection of works and the gallery was almost empty - it wasn't that unusual to be the only person in a room. In a sense that was great since I could enjoy the space and the works, but why aren't people looking at this great art?

Walk on through the rooms and I found yet more paintings by Kandinsky and Klee as well as more works by artists unknown to me, all working in the Blue Rider ethos and taking it forward.

A final painting I'd like to highlight is 'Portrait of the Dancer Alexander Sacharoff' by Alexej Jawlensky from 1909. What a dramatic image with all that red on the body and the black hair, the narrow face and that smile. No 'Mona Lisa' is this. At first I thought it was a painting of a woman but no, this is an athletic man painted in a very gender-neutral manner. The direct gaze and that oddly twisted smile are very noticeable. Is he thinking, 'Yes, got you!' in presenting himself like this for his portrait session? It's the work of an artist painting an artist in a different field, someone who knows how to manipulate and use his body. It's not what I consider to be a beautiful painting but it's certainly very striking.

There are many, many more paintings on display by a much greater range of artists than I cover in this blog in the Lenbachhaus. If you go to Munich then you need to make time to see the collection, it's well worth it and quite an astonishing collection it is. The Lenbachhaus also has a surprisingly large bookshop on the ground floor. If you want to see more Blue Rider works then head on over to the Pinakothek der Moderne for yet more Kandinskys and Klees as well as others. Munich holds a unique place in the history of Der Blaue Reiter and it's only right that it holds such great works.

Photos are by me - sorry they're a bit wonky!

Like A Magpie... in a Garden

Yes, that's me at an exhibition. Not the slow, stately walk along one wall following the crowd, then along another wall, moving at the pace of the slowest person further along. No.  I'm here, there and everywhere and back again. If there's a queue to see a painting why wait your turn when you could see another great painting on the opposite wall?

There's a strange dynamic about exhibitions that I've noticed loads of times and that is that the first few rooms are always busy and then the crowds slowly start to spread out in the later rooms. Why is that? Shouldn't the rooms all be equally crowded as people move through the exhibition? There are probably studies into this strange phenomenon.

I went to see the 'Painting The Modern Garden' exhibition at the Royal Academy again on Friday evening - the Royal Academy stays open until 10pm on Fridays so it's a good to avoid crowded weekends and see exhibitions after work. I've done that a few times in the past and it's great to stroll round the venerable old galleries while London comes alive on a Friday night. Except, guess what? The exhibition was totally sold out so it might as well have been peak hours.

It is an excellent exhibition and it's only on for another three weeks so go along and see it if you can. So many artists painting gardens and flowers, so many styles and so many different interpretations of what a garden looks like and how it can be painted. I loved it - it'll take a lot for any other exhibition to top this one this year. I first saw it in February and I'm tempted to go a third time, it's that good. So many paintings by artists I know and those I don't know, some I'm very familiar with and some I've only vaguely heard of but all on the theme of gardens. It's clearly a smash hit. A palpable hit.

There are, of course, many paintings by Claude Monet, that great old man of painting who refused to leave his home during the First World War and kept on painting his beloved gardens and ponds and bridges and trees, sometimes joyful and sometimes sorrowful. I've seen his enormous paintings of his waterlily ponds in the Musee de L'Orangerie in Paris and those are an astonishing and moving sight, Monet's gift to Paris, celebrating peace. There are many painting of waterlilies in the exhibition but this one really caught my eye, 'Corner of the Waterlily Pond'

This photo really doesn't do the painting justice, it's too light, but it at least lets you see what got me so excited. The thick oils merging and twisting to create new shapes and colours to try to capture the texture of the scene, the lush plants with hundreds of greens and the odd flower here and there. A serene view and a storm of emotion. Monsieur Monet was having a good day when he finished this painting and overloaded it with creativity and vibrancy - he threw everything at this one and I like to imagine him smiling in satisfaction as he put his brushes away and left it dry at the end of the day. You really need to see it to glimpse it's beauty and power. I went back to gaze at it three times.

In one of the final rooms is a set of large blown up photographs of many of the artists in the exhibition and some film footage of them too, so I can say I've seen M. Monet painting. There are lots of photos of Monet in his later years with his bushy beard and floppy hat but have you ever seen Wassily Kandinsky digging in his garden, wearing shorts and with a cigarette in his mouth. Well, here he is:

You may not be able to jump into the paintings or smell the blooms and feel the breeze but you can gaze at some of the most marvellous paintings and share the vision of some of the greatest painters the world has ever seen. Visit this exhibition while you can. It's gorgeous. And say hello to Claude and Wassily for me.

'Painting the Modern Garden - From Monet to Matisse' at the Royal Academy

I like gardens and flowers, I like painting and I love Monet and Matisse so this exhibition was designed to reel me in, wander round awe-struck and then buy postcards and the exhibition catalogue. I couldn't help it and neither could the unknown crowds who visited with me. After the first few rooms I decided that this was the must-see exhibition of the Spring in London - it is gorgeous, it is emotionally stimulating, it is truly fab (obv). Hundreds and hundreds of paintings (-ish) and dozens and dozens of rooms (well, it felt like it), the Royal Academy has scored a hit with this exhibition. Did I like it? O yes!

I've been to quite a few exhibitions at the Royal Academy and this was easily the most crowded so, if you want to see it, book tickets now to avoid disappointment. Is it the idea of gardens or flowers or the Impressionists and those that came after them that proves to be the draw? I don't know but I certainly want to go back before it closes. The paintings are glorious and it will take your breath away to see so many paintings on a similar theme all grouped together. It's fascinating to consider how different artists at different times saw their gardens so differently.

The Royal Academy keeps the theme going by replacing the leather benches with park benches to sit on, plants growing in a mini-greenhouse and books and letters describing the gardens we see. That's a nice touch from the curators - let's show that some of the painters were also serious gardeners and swapped cuttings and ideas. Because they did. I was vaguely surprised that some were keen gardeners but I'm not sure why that is - why shouldn't they like growing things and designing gardens? I'm jolly pleased they did because it led to some wonderful paintings.

There was one room that made me feel like I was in the flower tent at the Chelsea Garden Show, surrounded by banks of flowers, and I'm sure that's what the curators intended - one of the paintings is on the cover to the catalogue, Monet's 'Chrysanthemums', which is a glorious explosion of colour. As I entered the room I saw the painting out of the corner of my eye and headed straight for it. I've never seen it before and I wanted to jump into it.

As well as Monet and Matisse, there are paintings by all sorts of people, from the Impressionists onwards to those who took their art so much further. We see the delights of Pissarro and Renoir, a few by Caillebotte, Berthe Morisot, Van Gogh, and there are paintings by Kandinsky, Klee, Munch, Nolde and so many others. There are lots of paintings by M. Monet and his garden, of course, and the final room shows three enormous water lilies canvases placed together as a farewell to the art of painting a garden.

It's also nice that the curator hasn't gone for the 'usual' or 'obvious' paintings by the artists (except for Monet - you've got to have some waterlilies!). This shows us another side to these artists, a side I didn't know. Who knew that Caillebotte used to swap cuttings with Monet? I've only ever seen his 'urban' Parisian paintings but now I've seen his garden and learned more about him. It's also nice that this exhibition starts in winter and closes in spring - the glorious warm colours and shafts of light brightening up the cold, drab, grey winter outside. Great timing. When it finishes London will be full of greenery and spring flowers again.

Don't miss this amazing exhibition - I shall return!