Thursday 14 February 2013

Amongst Heroes or; Painters of Cornish Life [not Manet]

Hello Reader,

Last weekend I swam against the tide and went, not to the exhibition that everyone is talking about  [Manet, ofc!] but to somewhere I had never been before to see paintings I had never seen before. I went to 2 Temple Place, London, to see Amongst Heroes: The Artist Working in Cornwall.



What a pleasant surprise I had! The art I saw, and the striking building it was exhibited within, were so beautiful and interesting to look at, I felt compelled to spread the word about them. Despite being a stones throw away from the Courtauld Gallery, and therefore also quite close to the National Gallery, I had never before heard of, or visited, 2 Temple Place before this weekend and I feel like I've been missing out on a hidden gem. So I am writing this to encourage you to take a visit so you don't miss out either!

Although I was not milling amongst the Manets this weekend, I still witnessed The Painting of Modern Life [apologies for the poor T.J Clark related pun], but instead of the environs of Paris, I was transported to the seas and ports of Cornwall and the other coastal towns that the artists of Cornwall portrayed. The first painting, Pocking Fish, St Ives Harbour by Gwendoline Margaret Hopton [which can be seen here thanks to the BBC Your Paintings projects], surprised me in its similarities to the paintings of Manet. Like Manet, Hopton paints the people of St Ives going about their daily business. The subject matter is not grand, it is merely life, the people are not posed in artificial, forced postures, or assuming personalities outside of their own existence. This work is an observation, a study in harbour life. The soft, dappled brushwork also reminded me of Manet's treatment of foliage and water in his paintings, except here, the colour palette is muted to suit the earthy, dank tones of the working harbour. For me, the highlight, and lasting impression of this painting is the figure in the red jumper just off-centre. As well as enhancing and bringing out the other brown tones in the painting, this jumper draws your eyes away from the almost pastel, blocky row of houses in the backround, to the real subject of the painting, the fish. Furthermore, this tiny blot of red lifts what could otherwise turn into a solemn, grey image of workers into an image of life.

On an adjacent wall is a painting that contrasts in several ways to its precursor, and was one of my favourite in the exhibition. Line Fishing Season by Charles Walter Simpson (1918) [click here to see, thanks to Your Paintings] is lively, noisy, animated and very bright, thanks to its liberal application of thick, impasto white paint, in stark contrast to Manet's notable use of black. The previous painting seems almost docile in comparison to this scene of flurrying seagulls, whose wings in various stages of flying, landing and eating allow for a variety of different planes of diagonal grey, blue and white tones to intersect the horizontality of the landscape of sand and coastal buildings and consequently create a very busy image, full of movement. The lack of real focal point means that our eye is never allowed to rest in one place, darting around the canvas and adding to the sense of commotion. In this painting, by Simpson [1885-1971] who was a bird painter, I really enjoyed how the blue-grey colour of the gulls wings contrasted with the pink, fleshy tones of the rays washed up onto the shore, and how their rendering in thick impasto paint really enhances both the boldness of the white paint and the depiction of flesh and feather. Above all, I enjoyed how these contrasts create noise and energy, two words that one would not think to associate with still, two-dimensional painting.

On another wall were some beautiful little studies of fisher-woman in watercolour, no bigger than a postcard. One, by Maria Tuke Sainsbury, was very dark, showing one figure in a domestic setting, with the figure portrayed very close in the foreground. This intimacy of setting and composition reminded me of dutch genre paintings. At this point in the exhibition I had viewed only 4 paintings, and yet already I had seen such a wide variety of subject matter, size, style, medium and composition. I was impressed and awed at a very early stage!

The next painting which really amazed and impressed me was Franz Muller-Gossen's Lowestoft Fishing Boat at Sundown. Unfortunately, I can't seem to find an image of it, but hopefully my explanation will be enough to convince you of its beauty and the power of the artists skill. Although, in an exhibition of paintings I obviously knew it wasn't, from a distance I was almost convinced that this image was a photograph. As I edged closer, light began to reflect off the shiny oily surface, giving away its true medium and unveiling more of its beauty to me. I could stare at this painting for hours. It is not a big painting, less than a metre wide and not much taller than a foot high, but its impact stretches far beyond the size of the canvas. There is a very wide range of colours and contrasting tones used in this image. The colours of the sea are very vivid and saturated; greens and turquoises, with blues so dark they appear almost black, the crests of waves picked out by small touches of white. Although the waves don't appear to be rough, the colours alone give the sea a stormy and tumultuous mood, that is diffused only slightly by the delicate foam surrounding the edges of the boat. Interestingly, the mood and palette of the sky is somewhat calmer, with soft greys infused with light blues, peaches and burnt umber tones giving an atmosphere of warmth and serenity. What I felt was really powerful about this image was the way the boat, as well as being the main subject of the piece, is used as a clever compositional device to bring two highly contrasting areas, the sea and the sky, together in a single visual unit. By leaning the boat to one side, the sail creates a diagonal which, as well as slicing through both the sea and the sky, unites them and creates a very strong balance that is satisfying to the eye and to the mind.

Home on the Morning Tide by Reginald Aspinwall (c.1886) [click here to see, thanks to Your Paintings] is one of the smallest, if not the smallest painting in the whole exhibition. It was also one of my favourites. This painting employs a palette of very pale blues and greys and uses different painting techniques, such as using the end of the brush to scratch paint of the surface to create the texture of gentle ripples on the surface of the water. This painting oozes calm, not only through the gentle colours and textures, but more forcefully (if calm can be forced upon you?) through the strong, undisrupted horizontality of the piece, which directly contrasts the dramatic composition of the piece I just discussed. This tiny canvas shows four sails dotted along the horizon against a touch a dappled cloud. It is like a procession, in the way that the four boats follow each other, in a straight line in an almost regimented fashion. It is dignified without being flashy, and sparse without appearing bleak. It is still, despite the fact it portrays moving vehicles, and quiet, despite the fact that paintings do not make noise anyway. It is a simple and beautiful observation and a joy to spend time with. 

Finally, The Setting Sun by Adrian Stokes (1909)  [click here to see, thanks to Your Paintings]. Essentially it is two cows watching a sunset. It's the kind of painting that gives you the sort of feeling of sighing into a sofa with a comforting cup of tea. It's warm, quite literally from the blazing orange of the setting sun which illumiantes the whole painting, and the subject matter, the two cows, is "heart-warming". It feels nostalgic and some may say it is a little sentimental. But it makes me feel happy to look at it in a "great-big-hug-in-a-canvas" kind of way and I don't think that is a bad thing. 
Art can be enjoyed on so many levels. Everyone communicates and engages with art in their own very personal way, and that is what interests me so much about it. The fact that one work of art can solicit such a diverse range of responses and levels of engagement is an amazing thing and clearly demonstrates how images are such powerful tools of communication.

Before I end this post, I just want to say thank you to Your Paintings, without which I wouldn't have been able to provide you with images to accompany my text. Your Paintings is a new fantastic online tool, by which you can view paintings in National collections across the UK. However, even thought I have provided the links in my blog for some of the images, I do hope that, if you can, you go and see the exhibition as it is free to get in and, as I heard someone say whilst looking at one of the paintings on display, there really is no comparison with seeing a painting in the flesh to an image in a book or on a computer screen. Size, light, the impression of the colours upon the eye, and, something that I really enjoy in paintings, the texture of the paint upon the surface are things which the enjoyment of is heightened so much so by experiencing in person. Plus, as I have already said, the surroundings are FABULOUS! You would be crazy to miss it.

I realise I've only really talked in detail about a selection of pictures at the exhibition. I decided halfway through writing that I had so much to say regarding both the paintings and the building that I'd split the post into two. So that's all for now, folks. But I hope to be back soon to gush about the, frankly, BEAUTIFUL architecture and design of 2 Temple Place, as I feel that is half the attraction of the place. 

If I have convinced you to take a visit, and I hope I have, for more details on opening times and location etc., their website can be found here.

Thanks for reading, again

Jennifer


p.s. I piece of music I feel would really go well with this exhibition is Vaughan Williams 1st Symphony: A Sea Symphony. The recording I have is performed by the LSO and Chorus under Andre Previn. Let me know what you think in the comments!