Fra Angelico 9/12

It's the 18th of the month again, so, to celebrate Fra Angelico's feast day I'm posting pictures of Fra Angelico's paintings that I've seen. For September I've chosen the 'Virgin & Child' in the Sabauda Gallery collection in Turin that I saw the exhibition of the Fra's work at the Musee Jacquemart-Andre in Paris in 2011. This painting was the poster for the exhibition and also the cover of the catalogue.

It's a gorgeous painting and is very calm and still, almost a meditation piece. It draws you in when you're standing in front of it. Mary gazes down at her son who looks out towards the viewer.

This painting is a bit different to many of the Fra's other Virgin and Child paintings in that it has classical columns in the background rather than the often-used cloth of gold background - the cloth is still there, but this time as curtains. Also, there are no angels looking after the holy pair, just a mother and her baby. The baby clearly isn't just any baby, but looks to the future with the cross of the resurrection in his halo - he can't escape his destiny. If you look closely you can see the words 'Ave Maria' written in Mary's halo.

This painting always reminds me of that trip to Paris on a chilly November day, walking along Boulevard Haussmann to see the large queue outside to get into the exhibition. I'd already booked timed entry tickets so spent the waiting time in the cafe. 

Jean Fouquet at the Gemaldegalerie, Berlin

There's a lovely small exhibition at the Gemaldegalerie in Berlin that's just opened that features Jean Bouquet's famous diptych of the Virgin Mary and Donor, often referred to as the Melun Diptych although the two wings are in different museums. The Gemaldegalerie has reunited them for this exhibition, alongside other Fouquet portraits as well as those that influenced his work.

I was in the Gemaldegalerie on Wednesday last week when the exhibition was being photographed and, again, on Friday when it opened. It's in a small room near the entrance to the gallery with a big 'no photography' sign at the door and, like a good lad, I obeyed the sign.

This is really a portrait exhibition since one of the panels is all about the donor, Etienne Chevalier and his patron saint St Stephen, and the other is Agnes Sorel, mistress to Charles VII of France, as the Virgin Mary. The pale white of Mary's skin is really odd compared to the red and blue angels that surround her, especially with one breast exposed, but this was a very peculiar commission designed to curry favour with the king.

As a portraits exhibition it was lovely to see Van Eyck's 'Portrait of a Man' also shown. I'm very familiar with this man who is the husband in 'The Arnolfini Portrait' in the National Gallery in London. He's unmistakeable and I'm delighted to have seen him at last, after seeing the reproduction in books.

There are other small portraits and drawings to illuminate the main portraits, such as those by Robert Campina and another by Fouquet of an old man in need of a good shave. I don't know who this man is but I like him. He's obviously sharing a funny story in the local pub and anticipates being bought another drink at the end of it and I probably would.

There's also a page of drawings by Benozzo Gozzoli, a pupil of Fra Angelico, on display and another page attributed to his 'school'. This page is supposedly influential in the pose of St Stephen in the diptych. It might be and I love the link to Fra Angelico but it might also be someone going a bit too far in making links between artists and paintings.

It's a lovely exhibition that is well worth seeing if you're in the area. It's small but you've got the rest of the Gemaldegalerie to explore as well.

'Portraits by Cezanne' at Musee D'Orsay, Paris

On my recent trip to Paris I saw the 'Portraits by Cezanne' exhibition at Musee D'Orsay which opens at the National Portrait Gallery in London in October. That gives me another opportunity to see this excellent exhibition.

The exhibition starts off, as you'd expect, with early portraits as Cezanne found his own style. There were a few portraits of his uncle differentiated by wearing different hats, something he seems to do with his own later self-portraits, wearing hats of various shapes and colours. The consistent thing is the bushy beard, both for his uncle and himself. He's not the poster-boy for the exhibition however, that's reserved for 'Boy in the Red Waistcoat' which works really well with the splash of vivid red to liven up the colour palette.

To illustrate Cezanne's 'hats maketh the man' approach, I particularly liked his 'Self-portrait with a White Hat' with Cezanne looking straight out at the viewer wearing a white hat of sorts - or is it a bandanna tied around his head? Hair and beard are well kept and under control unlike in the self-portrait I'm more familiar with in the National Gallery in London. That painting is on loan to this exhibition and it was nice to see it again. I think I prefer the self-portrait with the white hat though, showing the artist in his prime, gazing out at the viewer in three-quarter pose, a man assured of himself and in control of his art.

As well as painting his own portrait, Cezanne painted his wife endlessly. There are half a dozen portraits of Madame Cezanne in the exhibition, the poor, long-suffering wife. I could well imagine her saying, 'ok, just another few minutes but I really need to make the dinner...' as Cezanne started yet another portrait.

Another portrait I particularly liked was 'Gustave Geffroy' from around 1896, with the good Monsieur Geffroy sitting in front of his book-case with books scattered on his desk. I suspect he's copying favourite passages into his notebook to keep them with him. The first thing I noticed were the orange-spines books in the book-case and wondered if Penguin paid Cezanne a royalty for inventing its trademark colour. That took me into the painting and could examine it with different eyes.

If you don't know the sitter or his/her history, then you need something to grab your attention to pull you into the painting, and those books did it for me. I assume the catalogue explains who he was and his relationship with Cezanne but, since the catalogue was in French then I have no idea. I look forward to reading about Gustave in the National Portrait Gallery catalogue.

Another portrait I loved was the one of Maggie Smith or, rather, 'Woman in Blue' to give the painting it's true title. As soon as I saw this one I thought of Maggie and still do. I can just see her sitting at a table waiting to be served a glass of sherry and sighing because of the wait. The slight downward glance and the angle of the hat, the plain blue jacket and dress against the colourful tablecloth all serve to give the painting a slight air of sadness, but I assume a momentary sadness. I'm sure she'll perk uo when the sherry is delivered.

It's a very simple portrait that cries out for a story to be draped around it and I hope the National Portrait Gallery version of the catalogue will do that. I want to know who she is and what was going on in her life at the time of the portrait.

One of the final portraits is another self-portrait by Monsieur Cezanne, this time as an old man whose beard has turned grey and he's gone all trendy by shaving it into a goatee beard. A large floppy beret tops off the portrait. The robust, beefy man of the earlier self-portraits has shrunk a bit with age but he's still using hats to cover his baldness. I looked at this portrait and thought old man and then wondered why he bothered to shave the sides of his beard? Was he still vain at that age? was it the fashion at the time? I don't know, but after all the earlier fully bearded portraits it did rather stand out for me.

I didn't realise that Cezanne was such a portraitist until this exhibition - I usually associate him in my head as a landscape artist because that's the genre I've mainly seen in his paintings. This exhibition shines a new light on him. That's always a good thing.

The exhibition opens at the National Portrait Gallery in London on 26 October and I'd certainly recommend it. I'll be going again to say 'bonjour' to Monsieur Cezanne.

Fra Angelico in the Gemaldegalerie, Berlin

The Gemaldegalerie (the paintings gallery) in Berlin includes a great 'Last Judgement' triptych by Fra Angelico. The Gemaldegalerie is part of the Kulturforum complex of museums and galleries just off Potsdamer Strasse (beyond Potsdamer Platz) behind the Philharmonic concert hall and that might explain why it wasn't terribly busy when we went. It's not on the beaten track and you need to know that it's there to find it. Luckily, I wanted to see the Fra Angelico painting so I knew where it was.

The 'Last Judgement' is a triptych of panels hung with three predella panels of the life of St Francis. I don't think there's any link between them other than they're all by Fra Angelico (who was a Dominican rather than a Franciscan).

I suspect linking the the two works is more about saving wall space than artistic merit since the 'Last Judgement' seems to focus on Dominican colours. The downside of hanging them together is that it means the 'Last Judgement' is hung higher than it would be normally and I'd rather it was lower to make sure I could see all of it properly. On the other hand, seeing all these panels together is pretty great! Mind you, it also pointed out that the 'Last Judgement' could do with a clean to free the colours compared to the predella scenes. More of that later.

The central panel shows Christ in Heaven surrounded by seraphim making his judgement, with apostles and angels on either side of him. Below, we see humanity being divided into those who merit heaven and those destined for hell.

The wings of the central panel show heaven and hell, with angels leading the blessed to heaven and demons punishing those destined for hell. If you look closely you can see that the Fra names the circles of hell, or possibly the sins of the sinners, in each of the small scenes set in hell. The devil sits in the centre eating humanity in a hell of our own creating - he's already eaten quite a few of us from his size. These scenes show different circles and punishments of hell, presumably based on Dante. I prefer the angels' stately dance towards heaven.

Something I really like about the central panel is the way that the angels cuddle and hug humanity and then direct them towards heaven. I'm a fan of the angel that dives down from heaven to save a mortal. All of the arms round each other is a  really nice touch and not one I've seen in paintings by other artists (but I might simply have missed it). That is something we should aim for - angels are welcoming the good into heaven and that's something we should aim for.  Isn't that how you'd want to be welcomed into heaven, with a cuddle?

This section of the painting really made me wish this triptych had been cleaned - just look at all those reds, pinks and blues, and imagine how vivid they'd be if they were cleaned. It would shine with colours and with the gold leaf in the background. One day it'll be this painting's turn to be cleaned and I'll be back on the plane to Berlin to see it.

Of course, as well as the path to heaven this painting includes the path to hell. The main panel shows people being divided into those who should go to heaven and those whose destination is hell and one of the panels shows hell.

We see a bloated satan and his devils inflicting pain on the damned. If you look closely you can see the names in Latin of the circles of hell or the names of the sin above each group of sinners. That's Fra Angelico's writing, that is. I suspect the circles of hell are named after Dante but I don't about that for sure. I'd rather be dancing with the angels with the angels that be naked and roasting in hell. The message works for me.

I mention that the panels would benefit from cleaning and the reason I say so is that a similar panel painting is in Rome and it has been cleaned and it looks so much more vibrant. I saw it earlier this year and here it is in all it's glory. Just imagine the glorious colours of the Berlin 'Last Judgement' if it was cleaned to this standard.

I'm not too sure what the predella panels are trying to show but we see Saints Francis and Dominic together, the death of St Francis and then St Francis speaking to his followers. This suggest there might be other predella scenes to fill in the gaps in the life of St Francis but it's interesting that a Dominican friar painted a life of their great rival of the Franciscans. I suspect there's a story behind this that I'm not aware of.

If you're lucky enough to be in the area then please make sure you visit the Gemaldegalerie since it has a great collection of paintings and is hung excellently.  Not just to see the Fra (although that is mandatory) but to see so many other great paintings, many of which you'll be familiar with but have never seen the original. 

Fra Angelico in The Louvre, Paris

The Louvre has an impressive collection of paintings by Fra Angelico, including a major altarpiece and a large fresco. It's easy to find them since they're opposite the entrance to the Italian room or corridor which starts off with the early Italian paintings at one end and gradually goes through the centuries as you wander along. There are seven works on display so make sure you see them all.

The first you come to is a large fresco of 'The Crucifixion' removed from Florence by easing the plaster off the wall and attaching it to a new backing to hold it together. This was done in the mid-1800s and sold by an art-dealer at the time. It's about ten feet tall and so the characters are virtually life-sized and shows the crucified Christ with Mary and St John the Evangelist, with St Dominic kneeing at the bottom of the cross. Stylistically, it's similar to some of the smaller crucifixion scenes at San Marco in Florence.

The fresco is on the wall in the ante-room before you enter the main Italian room and, if my visit was anything to go by, is largely missed by visitors who walk straight into the room without really looking at the paintings in the ante-room.

I particularly liked the characterisation of St John, looking up at his Lord and wringing his hands as the mortal man dies on the cross before he rises three days later. Look at the anguish in his eyes as he looks up. The fingers don't look quite right as his hands are clasped tightly and I've seen better representations by the Fra of this anguish but it's still an arresting vision. I suspect both St John's and Mary's robes would be brighter if the fresco was cleaned with modern techniques but I also suspect that could be dangerous given the history of the fresco now that it's no longer properly attached to a wall.

Walking past 'The Crucifixion' you're faced with the large 'The Coronation of The Virgin' which is directly opposite the entrance door to the Italian room. It shows Mary being crowned Queen of Heaven by Jesus, surrounded by angels, saints and other dignitaries. It makes the viewer almost a spectator at the event since the viewer would be kneeling and looking up as well. It's bright and colourful and very noticeable. The court of heaven of angels and apostles is separated from the mundane world by the figures kneeling and looking up at the heavenly pair.

There are seven predella scenes beneath the coronation scene that focus on the Dominican order, starting with St Dominic as a pillar of the church, literally holding it up with his own body. The central scene is the resurrection to remind the viewer how Jesus became the one to crown the Virgin.

I really liked the small scene with angels apparently serving the Dominican friars at a table - I don't know which tale this is meant to represent but I'll find out.

A detail I really liked was the figure of the bishop at the bottom-centre with his green robe with small scenes of the life of the Christ embroidered into the cloak at the back to make sure that even when facing the altar, the congregation still sees the life of Christ on his back. As ever, it's the detail that's fascinating and this shows the Fra's early training as a miniaturist. The embroidered scenes are very detailed and you'd have to be quite close to see them properly. It's almost a 'show off' moment for the Fra since the bishop is placed virtually central on the panel - it's almost saying 'look what I can do', 'look at the detail I could paint if you commissioned me and paid me for it to the friary'. It's really impressive.

I've seen clerical robes like this with embroidered scenes on the back displayed in the museum at Santa Maria Novella in Florence, although none were green.

The third work by Fra Angelico hangs on the wall beside the 'Coronation' and is a small predella scene of 'The Martyrdom of Saints Cosmo and Damian'. They were doctors and brothers and the patron saints of the Medicis who had funded the building of the Fra's friary of San Marco in Florence. They even had their own cell in the convent that was decorated with two scenes by Fra Angelico. It looks like it's part of the same predella about the saints that are housed in Munich and Dublic (neither of which I've yet seen but they are on my list to visit when I can).

The remaining four works by Fra Angelico are all fragments that are housed in a glass case against the wall to the left of the 'Coronation' as you stand with your back to it. Unfortunately, the case faces a window so it's not that easy to see them properly without dodging round to avoid the reflections. They comprise a predella panel showing the beheading of St John the Baptist, a small round figure of Christ and two angels facing each other.

The predella panel shows three scenes in one painting: the beheading of St John, a servant carrying his head into the banqueting room and Salome dancing to entrance the king into giving her her wish for his head. It's very cleverly done but I don't know which altarpiece this was part of the predella for.

The small figure of Christ is similar to the Fra's painting of the 'Blessed Redeemer' in the Royal Collection and currently on loan to the National Gallery in London. Christ is shown from the waist up offering a blessing. It's probably from the pinnacle of an altarpiece but I don't know which one.

My favourites were the two angels that quite possibly have been looking at each other from other sides of an altarpiece for 500 years and now look at each other in a glass case. They're not the same angel simply reversed, they are different if you look closely. The most obvious difference to me was in the positioning of the fingers of the hands crossing their chests - they're slightly different in each painting. Also look at the hair, which is different in each angel. It reminds me of something mentioned on one of my courses last year that Christ is often shown with hair that is blond/reddish to mark his difference from mere mortals in a place where the main hair-colour is dark. These angels are following suit. They are lovely and I'm only sorry I couldn't take a better photo of them.

I wouldn't be surprised if the Louvre didn't have more Fra Angelico treasures, other fragments not on display or drawings attributed to the Fra and his workshop, but these seven works are on public display to enjoy and admire. All photos were taken by me so don't let that influence you. They are all gorgeous and well worth spending some time to see if you're in the Louvre. 

'La Bayadere' by the Mariinsky Ballet at the Royal Opera House

A couple of weeks ago we went to see the Mariinsky Ballet in their summer season at the Royal Opera House. Last summer it was the turn of the Bolshoi Ballet so it was a good chance to see another big Russian company. The Mariinsky used be called the Kirov Ballet and, before that, the Imperial Russian Ballet, so it has a lot of history. I'd never seen 'La Bayadere' before so this was an opportunity to see it danced.

'La Bayadere' has a paper-thin plot but that doesn't really matter when it's an opportunity to see some great dance sequences and, once it got started, there were plenty of those. I think of the first act as lots of arm waving and stately movements but not much dancing as we get the basics of the story. Act two had more dancing and act three was lushness itself with some non-stop glorious dancing.

It's the tale of the love of a temple dancer (the bayadere of the title) and a hunter in the forests of India and they swear their undying love over a sacred fire outside a temple. Unfortunately the head Brahmin also has feelings for the dancer so, when the the local Rajah wants the hunter to marry his daughter, the Brahmin spills the beans in the hopes he'll call off the marriage. The Rajah doesn't, but, rather, swears that the dancer will die. The dancer unknowingly dances the wedding feast of the hunter and the Rajah's daughter and is given a bowl of fruit with a poisonous snake inside that bites the dancer. The Brahmin has the antidote but the dancer chooses death. Our rather feeble hero then has a pipe of opium and dreams his way into the underworld to be reunited with his dancer. Some productions take the story further but that's the version the Mariinsky danced.

I expected exotic sets and costumes, exuberant dancing with lots of show-off bits (because that's how the Russians dance) and that's what we got, with a cast of thousands. It was the spectacle of the 'Dance of the Golden Idol' that really brought the ballet to life with the idol leaping unbelievably high into the air and staying there, defying gravity, while he posed and preened, quicksilver fast around the stage.

Then later we had the 'Kingdom of the Shades' with dancer after dancer appearing on stage working their way down a slight hill to reach the stage and create formations of beauty, all 32 of them (yes, I counted). It was a gorgeous, elegant sequence that went on and on, with the dancers wearing diaphanous sleeves to make them seem almost like shimmering swans (a heavy motif for ballet). I loved it as more and more dancers appeared and wended their way onto the stage to take up formation and dance beautifully, virtually perfectly synchronised in their movements. It was truly lovely.

Ten out of ten for the Mariinsky? No, not really. I thought they were better than the Bolshoi last year but still a bit technical and clinical - where was the humanity of our hero and heroine? Where was the love, the little tender moments between them? I really enjoyed it once it got going but I've been spoiled by the Royal Ballet. Isn't it lucky I live in London?

Christ Church Picture Gallery, Oxford

I'd never been to the Christ Church Picture Gallery in Oxford, under parts of Christ Church College, so, when I had some time on my hands I thought why not? I'm so pleased I went since I counted 38 paintings from the 1300s and 1400s in the first gallery room. An unsought treasure trove, indeed! It's probably fair to say that none of these paintings are really top notch but they're fascinating nonetheless and I loved them.

One of the earliest named paintings was 'Four Musical Angels' by Bernardo Daddi, a lovely thing to behold. It seems like it's part of a bigger altarpiece and the angel on the left is probably looking up towards the main scene of the altarpiece, maybe a coronation of the Virgin or something else celebratory. It's a lovely painting with its greens, reds and golds, the angels immersed in their music wearing heavy robes and cloaks with just a hint of matching wings.

Another early work is a small triptych, quite badly treated over the years and held in place by being embedded in a velvet surround, attributed to the workshop of Fra Angelico. I couldn't find any reproductions online so here's a photo of the postcard I bought in the shop on the way out.  It's not terribly good but gives an impression of what the small altarpiece is like. It's a small, folding altarpiece for personal devotion to be set up in a room in someone's house or possibly for someone who travels a lot and takes the altarpiece with them. It's also clear that the brush of a master was nowhere near this painting but the composition is interesting, especially with it's three Dominican saints.

There's also the lovely 'The Wounded Satyr' by Filipino Lippi (Fra Angelico knew his dad, Fra Filippo Lippi) along with another painting of 'Five Sybils' by him. There's a very similar painting (and identical in basic composition) of the same subject by Botticelli hanging beside it but I've no idea who did it first.

'The Wounded Satyr' is a lovely painting with its rocky landscape and misty sea and the satyr inspecting the bright quiver or arrows. I don't know what the story of the satyr is (he's probably in Virgil or Homer or someone else) but it's a worthy painting.

There are, of course, many more paintings including a series of small panels of the life of St Francis and a rather lovely painting by Piero della Francesca of the 'Virgin and Child with Three Angels' which has his trademarked foreshortened, flat halos above the heads of the five participants.  It's a very busy painting

Another painting I particularly liked was 'The Deposition of Christ' by the Master of Delft showing three scenes and a crowd of people. We see Christ taken down from the Cross, his being carried to the tomb, and then Christ as the gardener in the background, risen and taking to Mary. What I liked about it was the sheer number of people in different clothes and postures in this painting. It made me smile.

There are a lot of other paintings in the galleries, of course, but it's these early ones (and 'The Deposition') that I was particularly interested in. It's a lovely find, particularly since I was only vaguely aware that it even existed. I will definitely keep my eyes open for news of exhibitions at the Picture Gallery in future - who knows what might pop up there! 

'Raphael: The Drawings' at the Ashmolean Museum

Exhibitions about drawings seem to be flavour of the month so I toddled over to Oxford to see 'Raphael: The Drawings' at the Ashmolean Museum. The exhibition brings together 120 drawings from collections around the world from across Raphael's brief career. The lighting is low to protect the drawings and, according to signs hung where the drawings should've been, two drawings from the Uffizi have been removed to protect them. It's a very popular exhibition and operates strictly timed entry, so don't arrive too early or too late.

The first drawing is a 'Portrait of a Youth', thought to be a self-portrait from when he was about 17 years old. It's certainly similar to other self-portraits so I'm not going to quibble. It's a lovely drawing and a great start to the exhibition, demonstrating quite clearly his skill and astonishing potential. I wonder what his master thought when he saw this drawing?

This also started me wondering about Raphael's drawing techniques. Why is there a heavy line on the right side of his face and neck and around the eyes? For emphasis, obviously, but his face doesn't need that much emphasis. The other lines are quite delicate and gentle in comparison, with the hair being curved strokes to hint at flowing locks rather than actually draw flowing locks. This says that Raphael was making decisions about his drawing, even at such an early age. He knew how he wanted this to look.

I kept looking at the drawings as I passed them, wondering why he did this or that to draw out the image he wanted to create and why that particular emphasis? I stood puzzling at another drawing further into the exhibition and wondering about why he put the emphasis where he did, this time 'Portrait of a Woman' from a few years later. In this drawing the emphasis is on her lower right cheek and along her left shoulder (more so than in this photo of it). The interesting thing about he left shoulder is the way her veil falls and twists over her shoulder, adding more complexity to the drawing. I must've stood there for a few minutes trying to work out why and then gave up - I don't understand how or why, but it works and helps bring the portrait to life. That's the job of an artist, I suppose, to make the decisions we wouldn't generally even think about.

Further into the exhibition we see Raphael under the influence of Leonardo and Michelangelo with even a drawing Raphael did of Michelangelo's 'David' which he saw when he was in Florence. He was clearly learning from the best and adapting it to his own style and needs. Some drawings seem to be to help him plan his paintings - should I put that warrior here, or here? How will the drapery of this Virgin fall, like this or maybe like that? It's really interesting to see him plot some of his paintings out and change them.

Then there are strange drawings like 'A Man carrying an Older Man on his Back'.  What is this about? Was Raphael just experimenting with what a man burdened with weight would like or was this a sketch for a possible painting? The Older Man is taller than the Man carrying him and he can't hold on, so the Man is leaning forward to take his weight and keep him on his back. It's an awkward composition but the Man is clearly holding a weight on his back, his feet planted firmly on the ground. I wonder how long the models could hold this pose?

Another drawing that grabbed my attention was 'Studies for Three Standing Men' from about 1514-15. The man on the left reminded me of Michelangelo's statue of the 'Risen Christ' (in the recent National gallery exhibition) holding his staff and feet planted apart. It's an exploration of anatomy and trying to find the right pose for some other work.

The really interesting thing about this drawing is the writing on the right of the drawing. It's very spidery and I couldn't read it but, according to the label beside the drawing, it's by Albrecht Durer, dated 1515, and it seems that Raphael sent this drawing to drawing as a gift. Raphael was in Rome at this time and Durer was in Nuremberg but they clearly knew of each other. I don't know enough about Raphael or Durer to know how or why they knew each other but Durer is rightly known for his drawings so, perhaps, seeing prints of each other's work drew them together?

Raphael also drew women, of course, and I couldn't help but wonder who the models were back then, since getting naked in front of a stranger wasn't something just any woman would do. There were lots of drawings of clothed women, not so many naked, but I loved this drawing titled 'Study for the Three Graces' which seems to be the same woman drawn together in three different poses. I like the way the bodies overlap and the poses are different but it's the same face. I'm not sure how we know this is a study of three Graces rather than a study of a woman in three different positions - again, possibly experimenting with poses for a painting - but it's incredibly graceful (if you'll forgive the pun).

One small drawing I was particularly keen on was a 'Study for an Angel'. It's one of the smaller drawings at the exhibition but look at that composition - it says so much. See the sleeve of the angel's robe falling down his right arm while his left hand points up towards heaven. He's clearly in flight, maybe even flying backwards away from something to emphasise the thing he's flying away from rather than his own existence. He's praising heaven and telling us to praise heaven at the same time. It's a marvellous little drawing and I'd love to know whether this drawing was ever copied into one of Raphael's paintings. I'm hoping the catalogue will tell me.

Another drawing that I found astonishing is an unfinished drawing, 'Studies of a Seated Male Nude'. There are at least two studies on the paper plus smaller details that don't really show in this photo, but the astonishing thing is the man's right leg. Just look at the foreshortening of his thigh and calf - that's plainly just unthinking showing off! I've never managed to get the hang of foreshortening and this simple drawing is a masterclass in that art.

There is so much more going on in this exhibition and so many drawings on show, some rough sketches and some more finished. Some were clearly Raphael trying to decide on a composition - or part of a composition - in his own head rather than meant to be finished works and that makes them even more fascinating.

The final drawing in the exhibition is this large 'The Head and Hands of Two Apostles', a study for Raphael's large painting 'The Transfiguration' which is now in the Vatican Museums. Just look at those expressive heads, especially the old man's head and he's holding up his arms in shock or defence. The creases of his brow and the stressed tendons of his neck, the weariness in his eyes, his open mouth about to say something. It's a marvellous piece of drawing, more so when I saw the photo of 'The Transfiguration' on the other side of the wall that this drawing hangs on and see these two men straight away. They're directly under the figure of Christ in the lower portion of the painting and they're in these poses. How wonderful is that? I wonder who these two models were and wonder if they had any inkling that we'd still be looking at their immortal faces 500 years later?

Just as the supposed self-portrait was the perfect way to start the exhibition, this glorious drawing was the perfect way to end it.

This is an excellent exhibition with a good selection of drawings that tell us so much about Raphael while still leaving so many mysteries. Well done Ashmolean! It's only on until 3 September so you'd better book tickets quickly to see it. I'm so pleased that I got to see it. I even bought the book!

'Committee' at the Donmar Warehouse

We went to see 'Committee' at the Donmar Warehouse a few weeks ago, the new 'musical' based on transcripts of the Parliamentary hearing about Kids Company and how it went bankrupt.  It was big news for a few days, about his successive Government grants had kept Kids Company afloat for years until the Cabinet office said 'no more'. Everyone with a public platform, including Prime Ministers had said what marvellous work Kids Company did, helping young people that social services couldn't reach so it was a brave minister who said 'no'. No doubt he already had everyone lined up behind him for when the proverbial hit the fan. Which it did with threats of civil disturbances that didn't really happen.

We see the select committee getting ready for another hearing, alerted that it might actually get some publicity since the people involved are Camila Batmanghelidjh and Alan Yentob. The script and songs are lifted from the transcript of the hearing, which is an interesting idea but I'm not sure it worked terribly well. When this play was first mentioned I didn't want to see it at all since I was involved in the margins of briefing for the hearing, but then I thought 'why not?'. It's only 80 minutes without an interval so it's not like it's a full evening wasted if it's not good.

Was it good? Well, not really as a whole. There were some nice performances (Sandra Marvin was excellent in all the padding as Camilla and Alexander Hanson is always worth watching) but it didn't work for me as a play. What was it meant to do? Send us out into the night commiserating with Kids Company or congratulating government on finally having some balls and saying no? Or something else? Simply presenting us with a highly edited version of the transcript of the hearing doesn't really take us anywhere. And calling it a 'musical' was a mistake. Where were the tunes?

Where it dd work were the impersonations of some of the politicians, like Rosemary Ashe as Kate Hoey (accent and all) and Rebecca Lock as Cheryl Gillan. I particularly liked Cheryl since I worked to the real Cheryl in the '90s in the dying days of the last John Major government. Her apparent inability to pronounce Camilla's last name was so on target.

It wasn't a wasted evening by any means and I'm pleased to have seen it but I don't think I'll go to any future revivals... if it's ever revived.