'Forest for Change' at Somerset House

The new installation in the courtyard of Somerset House is 'Forest for Change' by Es Devlin and it really is a small forest. It's odd to see the usually pristine and bare courtyard now filled with various trees. Other than the annual Christmas Tree, I wonder when the last time was that a tree actually stood where Somerset House now is? It's there to celebrate the London Design Biennale and highlights the United Nations' Global Goals and I suspect it'll do a great job of bringing in the curious to get some education about the Goals and what they mean to us. It worked with me.

The forest is all that big really - it's in a courtyard after all - but there are plenty of little trails amongst the trees so you can inspect the trees, shrubs and individual plants as you wander. Woodchip covers the ground to give it more of a feel for the forest and eases walking on the cobblestones. The trees aren't terribly old or tall so, wherever you look, are the buildings of Somerset House poking out above the trees. You can't miss it. Entry to the Biennale is by ticket but visiting the forest is free of charge whenever you're in the area.

Keep walking through the forest and you come to a clearing with a circle of metal 'monoliths', one for each of the UN Global Goals. They're in different colours and partially mirrored and seemed to be very popular with visitors while I was there. 

The first Goal is 'No Poverty' and the side of the 'monolith' includes a quote from Nelson Mandela: "Like slavery and apartheid, poverty is not natural. It is man-made and it can be overcome and eradicated by the action of human beings.". 

I really liked it and it does an excellent job of attracting visitors - a forest at Somerset House? - and drawing attention to the Global Goals. Take time to look around the 'monoliths' and see which quotes have been picked to highlight each one. Plus, it's free to enjoy so why not?

'Sensing The Unseen' - Gossaert at the National Gallery

Jan Gossaert's 'Adoration of the Kings' is the subject of a Room 1 exhibition at the National Gallery at the moment. The exhibition was being set up on my last visit to the Gallery in December 2020 before we went into lockdown again so I made a point of seeing it now that the Gallery is open again and I'm so pleased I did. Gossaert's 'Adoration' is a favourite painting of mine and it's always astonishing to see how much detail Gossaert managed to cram into a single painting. I've seen it often so it's a joy to explore it in a new way.

Room 1 exhibitions focus on a single painting or a narrow theme to look in detail at something. Room 1 is, as you'd expect, the first room you come to in the gallery off the (former) main entrance and foyer except that the main entrance has now moved to the Sainsbury Wing so, all too often, it's one of the last rooms you're likely to visit, especially in these pandemic days. Exhibitions are generally on for a short time, only for a few months, so we're lucky that the Gallery decided to extend the Gossaert exhibition after lockdown.

The exhibition is a sort of 'sound and vision' immersive experience  focusing exclusively on the one painting. There is timed entry and you walk into Room 1 and take your place in one of the three 'pods', standing in a circle on the floor in front of a large screen showing an enlarged detail of the Virgin with glints in her hair. You hear the sound of the wind, dogs barking and the chatter of the crowds around you as the camera moves slowly around the painting showing enlarged detail after detail. I've seen this painting many times but who knew that the dog in the centre actually has eyelashes? I suspect this is what the title of the exhibition refers to, the amazing details in the painting that we haven't seen but we know there is more to it.

It was the amazing details of the painting on the screen in front of me that astonished me. The sound element enhanced the experience but I was blown away by what I was seeing. This is such a great idea for an exhibition and I hope the Gallery tries it again with other paintings.

The incredibly detailed photography panned around the painting taking in details of the rich clothes and faces, details of the background and the offerings to the new king from the three kings. The film focuses in on where Gossaert signed the painting around the black king Balthasar's hat (under his crown) that I'd never noticed before since it's actually so small. This exhibition really is an advert for looking at the details in paintings. You never know what you might find.

In a way, this exhibition is giving us the view of the painting that curators and restorers have with the incredible detail. I'll never get close enough to the painting to see the highlights in the Virgin's hair or the embroidery details in Balthasar's hat or his rich robes but I now know it's there.

The camera climbs slowly to the top of the painting and the final few close ups are of the angels flying above the scene and then up towards the star that the kings and shepherds have followed, getting closer and closer and we look into the heart of the star. Such detailed work that is impossible top see when you look at the painting when hung on the Gallery's wall, almost breathtaking

You're then invited to step outside the pod to view the painting hung on the wall and listen to the voice of Balthasar as Theresa Lola reads her poem about Balthasar's journey as he hears people call out to him, comment on him, the strangeness he feels being in the presence of so many different people. And then the light dims and the door is open and it's time to leave. It was an astonishing experience and I felt privileged to be able to see it.

Sadly there's no exhibition book or even postcards so I'm pleased I took my own photos of what I saw on the screen. I want to see it again.

The painting was created between 1510-15 in oil on a wooden panel and is about 5'9"x5'3".

'The Making of Rodin' at Tate Modern

The big exhibition at the newly re-opened Tate Modern is all about Rodin, particularly his work in plaster. The Musee Rodin in Paris has loaned a lot of works to help show Rodin's process of making sculptures. There are sketches (often in watercolour), small models of much larger sculptures, many versions of body parts to practice getting hands, for example, just right, and even nude plaster statues to get the stance of a model just right before adding the clothes. There are some fascinating pieces here. It's not the biggest exhibition but is well worth seeing.

The first exhibit is 'The Age of Bronze' in a room of it's own. A willowy young man cast in bronze. It's a gorgeous statue but it doesn't really fit in with the rest of the exhibition and I suspect it's there to say 'this is what Rodin was capable of doing', with it's smooth, elegant lines and surfaces before moving on to the rougher plaster 'sketches'.

The next room is big and has a load of works on a central display to walk round in the one-way route so you get a chance to see the front and back of the statues. 'The Thinker' is, of course, the first thing you see, but I think my favourites were the 'sketches' of figures Rodin produced to try out his ideas. There's a rather portly 'Balzac' and a few studies for a naked 'St John the Baptist'. There was also a lovely small statue (small? maybe three feet tall?) of one of the figures in 'The Burghers of Calais', naked here even though he wears a full-body robe in the actual finished work. This was Rodin working out what the stance should look like and it's quite clear when you look at both the study and the finished work which character he was working on. It just wouldn't occur to me to do a naked study to work out how a clothed figure should look. I was most impressed.

Moving along and there is 'The Burghers of Calais' standing on the floor rather than raised up so a lot easier to see the details. There's a bronze cast of this statue outside Parliament so I'm familiar with it but it was fascinating to see this original version and walk round it peering at the details. The Burghers were six leaders of Calais in 1346-47 who surrendered to King Edward III to get him to spare the city. They expected to be executed but were spared. It's a great work and I wandered around it several times looking at the details. Look at those legs, the feet and hands, the way the clothes fall ... it suddenly all made sense why he would model the naked bodies before adding the clothes.

There are, of course, many more works to see at the exhibition but these are my highlights. The exhibition only opened a couple of weeks ago so there's plenty of time to see it yet and it's well worth a viewing.

'The Kiss' is also on display but outside the exhibition and it's great to be able to walk all the way round the work. They're definitely into a full-on snog.

'Rupture No 1: blowtorching the bitten peach' by Heather Phillipson at Tate Britain

Tate Britain has re-opened and there's a grand new installation by Heather Phillipson to experience. Heather's title is 'Rupture No 1: blowtorching the bitten peach' but I prefer mine: The All-Seeing Great Horned God Of A Thousand Eyes.' My title is more descriptive and very apt for those wishing to worship him and partake of the visions and wisdom in his inner sanctum. 

The God resides in the central halls of Tate Britain in a glow of changing colours and mysteries. First up are millions of video screens built into piles of rock salt (probably previous offerings) featuring some of the God's eyes, thick ropes descending from the ceiling, speakers dotted around to feed us wisdom in random sounds and lights changing colours. And then you see the Great Horned God standing tall, almost touching the ceiling. He's a God for the seasons, covered in sheets of newspapers to keep him up to date and current. 

If you walk between his legs you can see his priests involved in sacred mysteries around the holy pool of water and, if you're lucky, you can go into the inner sanctum to see the altar and witness the glowing prophecies from the God's ecstasies. If you're very lucky, you will emerge into daylight again a changed person. The Great Horned God is generous.

Do I need to mention that I loved this installation and let my mind go wandering in all the shapes and colours and textures and lights? I shall return to worship at the feet of the God.

Favourite Paintings: 'Orange Balloon (4 Paul Adams)' by Sir Frank Bowling

I had no idea who Frank Bowling, now Sir Frank Bowling, was when I went to see a retrospective of his work at Tate Britain in 2019 but I soon perked up when I saw the colours he discovered. I love the idea of a young Guyanese man coming to London to become a poet and artist, going to art school with David Hockney and then becoming a celebrated artist with studios in London and New York who is still painting and creating today. But I'd never heard of him. 

I saw many of his paintings in the retrospective exhibition but the one that stays with me is 'Orange Balloon (4 Paul Adams)'. Paul Adams was the first black player on the South African cricket team after apartheid and this is a tribute to him. I wonder what he thought of the painting. The painting is over 6' tall so is a big piece.

Sir Frank clearly loves his colours, his abstract expressionism and his acrylic paints. He still paints at the age of 87 and his grandchildren help to deliver his vision by manipulating the paints on his behalf, just as Matisse had assistants to help with his cut-outs. 

Important Fra Angelico News

In important news about Fra Angelico you need to know that the predella panels to 'The Annunciation' in the Prado in Madrid are currently being restored. The five small panels under the main altarpiece show scenes from the life of the Virgin: Birth and Marriage of the Virgin, The Visitation, The Nativity, Presentation in the Temple, and The Dormition of the Virgin. They're possibly my favourite predella of the Fra's and I have no doubt that they will burst with colour once the restoration is complete. I'm looking forward to seeing them again when we can travel safely.

You're not allowed to take photos in the Prado so this photo is of the full altarpiece from the catalogue of the excellent exhibition about Fra Angelico at the Prado a couple of years ago.

Favourite Paintings: 'An Allegory (Vision of a Knight)' by Raphael

A painting I always like to see in the National Gallery is Raphael's 'An Allegory (Vision of a Knight)'. It's very small at just over six inches square and is easy to overlook on the wall with so many bigger paintings by the master but it's those gentle colours that first attract me, so typical of the Florentine renaissance. The painting begs many questions with what is it really about and why is it so small being top of the list (for me anyway). The label beside the painting assumes it's of the Roman soldier Scipio dreaming of Virtue and Pleasure being offered a book, a sword and a flower, representing the aspects of a knight and notes that it's painted in oil on a poplar board. Was it commissioned and, if so, who by, or was it just something he fancied doing? I'm suspect there's been lots of academic research into the painting.

Raphael must have used the tiniest of brushes to get so much detail into the small painting, maybe the brushes used for illuminating manuscripts? The landscape is suggested than fully realised but it provides an excellent backdrop to the three figures.

I'm looking forward to seeing this painting again when the National Gallery re-opens when lockdown is eased.

'Poly Styrene: I Am A Cliche' The Documentary

The documentary about Poly Styrene had its world premier at the Glasgow Film Festival on Saturday 27 February 2021, not the ideal time during a global pandemic and when the UK was still in lockdown but it had to be released some time so why not now. It was partially funded through crowdfunding campaigns, the first of which was in 2017, so it was great to see what we'd all helped to fund. It was well worth the wait, a beautiful film narrated by and featuring Poly's daughter, Celeste Bell, with never seen before photos and film clips as well as more familiar material. 

The film tells the story of Marion Elliott-Said, the woman I know as Poly Styrene. Celeste tells us about Marion's childhood in Brixton, about her largely absentee father, the racism of the time, about her hopes and dreams and seeing the Sex Pistols and deciding to reinvent herself and start her own band. And that's what she did and X-Ray Spex was born. 

This is the period of her life that most of us know Poly from, the daring young woman fronting her own band singing about oppression, consumerism and identity, hardly the subjects for pop songs back then and so she stood out from the crowd. That great run of excellent singles and the amazing classic album that seared Poly into the public consciousness and, it seems, affected her own mental health that led to the break up of X-Ray Spex. Her first solo album ('Translucence') was so different from her punk records that she was dropped by her record label. 

Celeste tells us of her parents marriage and Poly moving in to live with the Krishnas in the mansion that George Harrison bought for them and then taking Celeste to live there as well. Poly doesn't seem to have been a very good mother and Celeste ran away to live with her gran. Poly's mental health problems seemed to keep returning and this was a particularly sad section of the film.

The film skips forward to the triumphant gig at the Roundhouse in 2008 and Poly's re-emergence as a songwriter and performer leading to the release of 'Generation Indigo', Poly's last album in 2011. She died of cancer shortly after its release. The film ends with Celeste taking her mum's ashes to India to scatter in the birthplace of Krishna. It's particularly poignant that the last song on the film - as it's the last song on 'Generation Indigo' - was 'Electric Blue Monsoon' to Krishna.

The film covers the life of Poly Styrene with insights from her daughter Celeste and family, friends and people who were influenced by her. The film relies heavily on archive material rather than talking heads - we see none of the people talking about her other than Celeste and that's one of it's strengths. The narrative and flow isn't interrupted by people popping up every now and then to talk about Poly, we hear their words against archive video scenes or photos. It's also beautifully filmed with long panoramic shots and very clear and sharp cinematography. In that respect, it's quite a beautiful film. 

It's also a very honest film and I suspect Poly would approve of that. She was and is a cultural icon to many people but that doesn't mean she has to be perfect in every aspect of her life and she wasn't. Does that affect how I view her? Not in the slightest.

A film can't tell you everything about someone's life and there has to be some editing so there's nothing about the '90s or early '00s until the triumphant Roundhouse gig in 2008, nothing about the reunion gigs or 'Conscious Consumer' or 'Flower Aeroplane' albums. In a way, that doesn't matter since they weren't key to Poly's story. What was key was her magnificent re-emergence with 'Generation Indigo', the joy of it and working with her daughter Celeste on the record. And the ultimate sadness of her death mere weeks after the release of the album and doing interviews from the hospice to help promote it. 

Marion might have left us but Poly lives on and Celeste should be proud of this film, a great tribute to her mum. It's sad in places, in many places, but it's also joyful and life-affirming. Poly had no role models to help her or inform her journey but today's generation has her and so many others to draw upon. Poly has more than earned her place in our cultural history and this film cements that. See this film if you can and learn about the icon and the woman. Well done Celeste.

'The Hill We Climb' by Amanda Gorman

Today was the inauguration of President Biden of the USA, a strange affair without crowds and cheering, but something that was right and special in its own right. The main thing for me was the poem read by Amanda Gorman, a 22 year old poet called 'The Hill We Climb'. I've always thought that poets have a special power, a power to use and transform the words that we all use but make them into something different. Something powerful. And Amanda is a power. She is also a light. I hope to see more of her and her work.

There are lots of videos online for you to look at but here are the words. 

When day comes, we ask ourselves, where can we find light in this never-ending shade?

The loss we carry. A sea we must wade.

We braved the belly of the beast.

We’ve learned that quiet isn’t always peace, and the norms and notions of what “just” is isn’t always justice.

And yet the dawn is ours before we knew it.

Somehow we do it.

Somehow we weathered and witnessed a nation that isn’t broken, but simply unfinished.

We, the successors of a country and a time where a skinny Black girl descended from slaves and raised by a single mother can dream of becoming president, only to find herself reciting for one.

And, yes, we are far from polished, far from pristine, but that doesn’t mean we are striving to form a union that is perfect.

We are striving to forge our union with purpose.

To compose a country committed to all cultures, colors, characters and conditions of man.

And so we lift our gaze, not to what stands between us, but what stands before us.

We close the divide because we know to put our future first, we must first put our differences aside.

We lay down our arms so we can reach out our arms to one another.

We seek harm to none and harmony for all.

Let the globe, if nothing else, say this is true.

That even as we grieved, we grew.

That even as we hurt, we hoped.

That even as we tired, we tried.

That we’ll forever be tied together, victorious.

Not because we will never again know defeat, but because we will never again sow division.

Scripture tells us to envision that everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree, and no one shall make them afraid.

If we’re to live up to our own time, then victory won’t lie in the blade, but in all the bridges we’ve made.

That is the promise to glade, the hill we climb, if only we dare.

It’s because being American is more than a pride we inherit.

It’s the past we step into and how we repair it.

We’ve seen a force that would shatter our nation, rather than share it.

Would destroy our country if it meant delaying democracy.

And this effort very nearly succeeded.

But while democracy can be periodically delayed, it can never be permanently defeated.

In this truth, in this faith we trust, for while we have our eyes on the future, history has its eyes on us.

This is the era of just redemption.

We feared at its inception.

We did not feel prepared to be the heirs of such a terrifying hour.

But within it we found the power to author a new chapter, to offer hope and laughter to ourselves.

So, while once we asked, how could we possibly prevail over catastrophe, now we assert, how could catastrophe possibly prevail over us?

We will not march back to what was, but move to what shall be: a country that is bruised but whole, benevolent but bold, fierce and free.

We will not be turned around or interrupted by intimidation because we know our inaction and inertia will be the inheritance of the next generation, become the future.

Our blunders become their burdens.

But one thing is certain.

If we merge mercy with might, and might with right, then love becomes our legacy and change our children’s birthright.

So let us leave behind a country better than the one we were left.

Every breath from my bronze-pounded chest, we will raise this wounded world into a wondrous one.

We will rise from the golden hills of the West.

We will rise from the windswept Northeast where our forefathers first realized revolution.

We will rise from the lake-rimmed cities of the Midwestern states.

We will rise from the sun-baked South.

We will rebuild, reconcile, and recover.

And every known nook of our nation and every corner called our country, our people diverse and beautiful, will emerge battered and beautiful.

When day comes, we step out of the shade of flame and unafraid.

The new dawn balloons as we free it.

For there is always light, if only we’re brave enough to see it.

If only we’re brave enough to be it.

'Turner's Modern World' at Tate Britain

Tate Britain holds the national collection of Turner paintings so it's fitting that its latest exhibition focuses on Turner. The core of the exhibition shows Turner's paintings reflecting the changing world, from the pastoral idyll of previous years to the mechanised world and steam engines that led to where we are today. Something I'd never thought about before is that for the first half of Turner's life Britain had been at war with other countries, as one of the signs pointed out, and that's bound to affect the type of art produced at the time. And it did, with drawings and paintings of forges making canon and weapons. steam rising and flames flaring, warships at sea, storms and shipwrecks. There's a lot going on in this exhibition.

I was quite surprised at the range of media Turner used, primarily watercolour, gouache and oils, mixing his media to experiment with effects. It was also quite exciting to see some of his small sketchbooks on display with his delicate little drawings and studies. I always find it fascinating to see artists' sketchbooks, to see their doodles and random drawings of things that caught their eye or playing around with different compositions. 

Turner was born in 1775 and entered the Royal Academy in 1789 at the very young age of 14. That is, of course, the year of the French Revolution which must've been an influence on his thinking. The Academy taught classical drawing and discouraged depicting modern subjects, preferring to see history paintings as the true artist's subject. He later went on to become professor of perspective at the Academy in 1807. I was quite taken with this small painting of 'Edinburgh, from Carlton-Hill' which shows the city in transition as it expands and grows, in which he used graphite and watercolour. 

I also liked his larger painting, 'The Battle of Trafalgar, as Seen from the Mizen Starboard Shrouds of the Victory'. There's so much going on in this painting and at the still centre is the death of Nelson as the French navy surrenders at Trafalgar. It's a bit jingoistic but that was the state of the country at the time with the death of a hero as he achieved a great victory. 

I quite like the detail of the title putting the viewer in a specific place to watch the scene. I also like the complicated composition, with waves reaching into the air to mingle with the smoke of gunpowder, sails billowing from various ships, showing the complex mess of a sea battle in which sailors are battling the wind and waves as well as the opposition. And the tiny figures of the seamen, dwarfed by their ships.

Turner took a different approach a decade later when he painted 'The Field of Waterloo', rather than showing signs of martial victory and jubilation he shows a more realistic view of the aftermath of war, with piles of bodies and women searching for their menfolk. The dramatic lighting and billowing smoke add to the effect. When the painting went on tour (as happened back then) it was accompanied by a line of poetry from Byron, 'friend and foe in one red burial blent'. 

Turner also painted more 'domestic' scenes of the small events of our lives, such as 'A Country Blacksmith Disputing upon the Price of Iron, and the Price Charged to the Butcher for Shoeing his Pony'. Again, a lovely descriptive title for a painting of various characters doing things. It is also a comment on the costs of war to ordinary people as prices increase to cover the burdens of extra taxes to cover the costs of war, in this case, on iron.

Continuing with social commentary a room of the exhibition is given over to paintings considered to be potentially upsetting to visitors, with a sign at the doorway reading, 'Content Guidance. Artworks in this room depict human suffering and the deaths of enslaved people.' A timely reminder that slavery wasn't abolished until 1807 and 1833 in the overseas colonies and territories.

The next room considered some of Turner's 'biggies' , or at least big to me since they are normally in the National Gallery and I've seen them many times, 'The Fighting Temeraire' and 'Rain, Steam and Speed - The Great Western Railway'. I don't know why but I quite love these two paintings, maybe familiarity, and I've attempted to copy 'Rain, Steam and Speed'. I love looking for the hare racing ahead of the train - and I don't always see him - and the boats on the river below the bridge. It's an astonishing painting in many ways, a magnificent experiment in trying to capture atmospheric effects.

Before going into the final room I noticed two small watercolours, 'Shields, on the River Tyne' and 'Newcastle' from 1823 when he was doing his series of the 'Rivers of England'. They're lovely little paintings but the locations are unrecognisable today. The sign beside the 'Shields' painting notes that the keelmen worked round the clock to load coal onto the boats to provide the power for Empire before becoming victims to the mechanisation of the process. The curator has clearly never heard the song 'Cushy Butterfield' sung by a brokenhearted keelsman in Gateshead who loves our Cushy.

I visited this exhibition on, by chance, the first day after lockdown at the start of December and the gallery was almost empty so I had the joy of walking into several empty rooms, just me and the art rather than the usual crowds. It was like that in the final room of the exhibition, just me to wander round the art and the guard sitting in the doorway. I was just lucky to already have a ticket for the day but I assume it got busier over December before the current lockdown.

The final rooms contain two paintings hung side by side just as they were when first exhibited. There is 'War: The Exile and the Rock Limpet', a stark painting of Napoleon in exile, and 'Peace: Burial at Sea', a darker painting of Turner's friend, the painter David Wilkie's burial at sea after dying of typhoid. It's a very dramatic painting with black sails on the ship since Wilkie wasn't allowed to be buried on dry land. It's a very dramatic painting and very powerful when you see it right in front of you. He was obviously a good friend.

And there you have it, the biggest exhibition of Turner's paintings for a long time, all on the theme of reflecting the changing world and society he lived in. I was very lucky to visit when I did, when it was so empty so I could enjoy the paintings without crowds. I hope the Tate extends the run of the exhibition to take into account the lockdowns since I'd love to visit again. If you can, it's well worth a visit.