All Too Human

“Renaissance painters painted men and women making them look like angels. I paint for angels, to show them what men and women really look like.”
– F. N. Souza, 1962

Throughout history, artists have attempted, some more successfully than others, to represent the human figure. For centuries, the Renaissance influenced the angelic, pure forms that many have replicated, giving a false impression of the realities of human appearance. Historical portraits can be likened to the contemporary Photoshop mania where sitters or models dare not resemble anything less than perfect. However, within the last couple of centuries, radical thinkers and artists have challenged the rules with movements such as Impressionism, Cubism and Surrealism. Although originally sparking outrage or stubbornly ignored due to their supposed “bad taste”, artists have stretched the boundaries to try to capture the life they see around them.

All Too Human: Bacon, Freud and a Century of Painting Life, hosted by Tate Britain, explores the works of 20 artists in Britain from the early 20th-century to the present day. All 20 fall into what the general public would deem “modern art”, however, they use a variety of approaches. Some artists, hence the two mentioned in the exhibition’s strapline, may already be known to some visitors, but many will be new names. Whether abstract, minimalist or conceptual, each artist has moved away from the previously accepted methods of art to create a whole series of figurative paintings.

The exhibition is set out in a loose chronological order beginning with four painters who were working in Britain towards the beginning of the twentieth century. Confusingly, not only paintings of the human body are included in the display, however, they help to emphasise the style of each individual artist. David Bomberg (1890-1957), Walter Richard Sickert (1860-1942), Chaïm Soutine (1893-1943) and Stanley Spencer (1891-1959) inspired the generation of figurative painters that followed them. Despite all working during the same period, the four artists had different approaches from the way they handled paint to their subject matter. The scenes were influenced by their everyday lives, particularly the people and places that meant something to them. To quote Sickert, each artist was attempting to depict “the sensation of a page torn from the book of life.”

 

 

The second room in the exhibition (there are 11 in total) jumps straight to one of the key artists featured in All Too Human. This is, of course, the Irish-born painter, Francis Bacon (1909-92). Having left Ireland for London at the age of 16 and living through two World Wars, Bacon was a troubled soul who expressed his feelings of isolation and angst in his artwork. Bacon was also dealing with homosexuality in a world where it was not yet accepted.

Bacon’s paintings of the human figure were usually solitary and distressed, perhaps expressing the sense of loss after the devastation of war. As a result of the wars, the philosophical theory of existentialism rose and became associated with artists such as Bacon and Alberto Giacometti (1901-66), whose isolated figure sculpture stands alone in the centre of the room surrounded by Bacon’s paintings.

In essence, existentialism emphasises the importance of the individual and the freedom to develop through acts of their own will. It is perhaps due to this thinking or the increasing difficulty to believe in God or a higher power, that Bacon produced abstract pastiches of other artists’ paintings, particularly those of popes. One example is Study after Velázquez in which Bacon uses Diego Velázquez’s (1599-1660) portrait of Pope Innocent X to create a demonic-like figure screaming in an isolated, cheerless room.

Francis Bacon appears once again in a later room of the exhibition. Here it reveals his interest in portraiture and the lengths he went to collect sources from which to base his paintings. Bacon used a variety of photography and newspaper clippings to inspire him, often commissioning the photographer John Deakin (1912-72) to take specific portraits of people. Bacon’s outcomes never looked like the original photograph, however, they were vital as a starting point. Incidentally, Bacon’s first identified sitter, Study of  Portrait for Lucian Freud (1964), was in fact based on a photograph of Franz Kafka (1883-1924).

 

 

A contemporary of Bacon, the Indian artist Francis Newton Souza (1924-2002), was also affected by the war and expressed his personal feelings within his artwork. His figurative paintings are simplified bold, swift strokes made with thick oil paints, which give a sense of movement as well as dark and distressing emotions.

Souza’s portraits are of a range of figures, including saints, businessmen and nudes. A few are inspired by biblical passages, for instance, Crucifixion (1959) and Jesus and Pilatus (1955-6). His abstract depiction of the human body removes the masks society hides behind to reveal the raw and complex emotional states underneath. Souza often used these strong emotions to express his feelings about the attitude towards different races: “I painted Negro in Mourning in London when the race riots flared. I personally think it is one of my best works – socialist realism maybe, Expressionism certainly. Moreover, Negro in Mourning is close to the bone of man because it is about the colour of skin.”

As well as portraits, this gallery contains a few cityscapes, which were also a favourite subject of the artist. Souza was a frequent traveller and visited many cities. It is thought that the complex, cubist-like paintings are a composition of memories and images of the places he encountered and his personal experience within these cities.

Other artists of the same period follow in the next few rooms of the exhibition and reveal different approaches to figurative art. William Coldstream (1908-87), for instance, painstakingly attempted to record reality by intensely scrutinising his subjects and measuring the locations of the key features in order to achieve the correct perspectives. Markings on the edges of the canvas can be seen where Coldstream had made his initial measurements.

David Bomberg (1890-1957), on the other hand, had a completely contrasting painting technique. As a tutor at the Borough Polytechnic in south London, he emphasised the importance of capturing the physical experience of the subject matter rather than merely the appearance. For Bomberg, art was about the process of applying paint to canvas, which can be seen in the works of some of his art students displayed here in the exhibition. The amount of paint applied to the canvases borders on excessive and creates a tactile as well as a visual outcome. This technique is a literal take on one of Francis Bacon’s insights into art: “the image is the paint and the paint is the image.”

 

 

As already mentioned, All Too Human is not an exhibition solely focused on the human body. Many of the paintings can explore what it is like to be human without needing to include a detailed portrait. Frank Auerbach (b.1931) and Leon Kossoff (b.1926) are two examples of artists whose approach to art focuses on alternative ways of engaging with reality. Although their style of painting differs, Auerbach and Kossoff both lived and worked in London and explore what it is like to be human in a modern and industrial society.

Both artist’s paintings are dynamic, play with light conditions, and reflect the mood of the setting or scene. The sharp, geometric lines that shape Auerbach’s Chimney in Mornington Crescent – Winter Morning (1991) imply a bleak, cluttered city life, which is a stark contrast to Leon Kossoff’s Children’s Swimming Pool, Autumn Afternoon (1971). The latter’s carefree brushstrokes, implying natural movement, convey a more pleasant experience.

 

 

Eventually, the exhibition reaches the second of the named artists in the title’s strapline, the grandson of Sigmund Freud (1856-1939), Lucian (1922-2011). Considering the size of the room Freud’s work is displayed in, he is perhaps the most celebrated of the 20 artists featured in this exhibition. A couple of his early works were shown in previous rooms in which he had laboriously approached with small brushes to achieve a smooth finish. The features on the faces of his models were usually abnormally large, particularly the eyes, however, by the 1960s, Freud’s method of painting changed completely.

From the 1960s until his death in 2011, Freud swapped his small brushes for thicker, bristly ones and applied paint to the canvas in a method more characteristic of a palette knife. Although Freud was less precise with his paint brushes, the final outcomes are far more realistic than his previous method.

The first painting visitors come across in Freud’s new style is a self-portrait. At the time it was painted, Freud was in his 40s and made no effort to romanticise his appearance. He focused heavily on his flesh and the contours of his face, which he positioned in an ungainly angle emphasised by his fist. This heavily textured style was employed in all his portraits regardless of who they were, their age and so forth.

Freud also began to paint full figures, particularly of naked men and women, in immodest positions. These are not the easiest of paintings to look at and may evoke disgust or embarrassment in many visitors. Yet, all Freud was attempting to do was confront reality, show the body simply as flesh and reveal the animalistic nature of the human body. As T.S. Eliot (1888-1965) stated in his poetry collection Four Quartets, “human kind/Cannot bear very much reality.”

Taking Freud’s portrait of Leigh Bowery (1991) as a less indecent nude painting, it is easier to understand his objective. Leigh Bowery (1961-94) was an unconventional gay performer in nightclubs and was usually recognised by his flamboyant dress sense, yet, this small portrait strips that all away. Bowery is painted asleep with his bald head resting on his left shoulder, evoking a feeling of vulnerability – a complete contrast to his public persona. Freud has uncovered the true human form beneath his everyday identity.

Freud predominantly uses the same setting for his portraitures – his sparsely-furnished studio – making each figure almost feel like an intrusion into his private space. On the other hand, this helps draw the eye to the model, whether naked or clothed and contrasts the complexities of human life with the simplicity of inanimate objects. These carefully constructed compositions are similar to the approaches of other artists, for example, David Hockney (b.1937) who, not only painted people in his studio, always used the same chair.

Interestingly, one painting within this display of Freud’s artwork is completely different and unexpected. Titled Two Plants (1977-80), this botanical painting contains no evidence of human life. The two plants, Licorice and Aspidistra, are painted in perfectionistic detail and look almost photographic. Its inclusion in this exhibition is entirely metaphorical; the plants are in various stages of growth and death, which can be used as an analogy for the human life cycle. “I wanted it to have a really biological feeling of things growing and fading and leaves coming up and others dying.”

 

Whilst Freud was looking at the realities of the human flesh, other artists were interested in the development of social relationships. Two examples are Michael Andrews (1928-95) and Ronald Brooks Kitaj (1932-2007) who, whilst approaching painting in vastly different ways, were both followers of Francis Bacon.

Kitaj’s works are often crowded and combine several scenes together. In his busy painting The Wedding (1989-93), Kitaj has amalgamated everything he witnessed during his marriage ceremony onto one canvas, conveying the hectic day and the heightened emotions experienced. Similarly, in Cecil Court, London WC2 (The Refugees) (1983-4), Kitaj also merges several incidents. In the foreground, Kitaj has painted himself reclining on a chair in front of the London alleyway while various people and shop fronts with a personal association to the artist fill the background.

Michael Andrews, on the other hand, painted less busy scenarios, however, still manages to convey people’s behaviour and relationships with each other. Like Kitaj, Andrews has also produced paintings of friends, family or acquaintances, although, his depictions look far more realistic. One particularly striking canvas Melanie and Me Swimming, which Andrews finished in 1979, is based on a photograph of himself on holiday in Perthshire with his six-year-old daughter. Rather than including the rocks and details of the water, Andrews focused mostly on his body supporting Melanie as she learnt to swim, evoking a sense of fatherly love and protection.

 

Although women (mostly naked) have been the subject of many paintings in this exhibition, the actual lives of the female sex have been widely overlooked. The art world was historically a male-dominated profession and it is only in recent years that women have been able to challenge the preconceived ideas of womanhood. Paula Rego (b.1935) is one such artist who places women at the centre of her work. Whether a portrait or busy scene, women are presented in various moods and activities, proving that they are each their own individual person.

Whereas in the past women were depicted as pure, angelic-like creatures, Rego occasionally goes to the other extreme, illustrating women as animalistic, powerful individuals. In Bride (1994), the woman, complete with wedding gown, lies in an animal-like position, almost like a dog lying on its back. Although dogs are animals that can be trained into submission, Rego is making the point that women, like dogs, are also powerful beasts. To be human is to be a physical creature and not something to be worshipped or controlled by men.

Covering one wall of the gallery is Rego’s triptych in response to William Hogarth’s (1697-1764) Marriage a la Mode (1743-5). Hogarth’s series tells the story of an arranged marriage between an ill-matched pair whose lives come to an end prematurely as a result. In The Betrothal, Lessons and The Shipwreck (1999), Rego brings Hogarth’s scenario into the 20th century but reverses the roles of the parents so that it is the mothers arranging the doomed union. Rego expresses her feminist views by recreating the story to focus on female suffering and strength.

Although Paula Rego was the only key 20th-century female artist in the exhibition, the final room introduces four contemporary female painters who are continuing along the same lines as their predecessors to produce works that concentrate on identity and what it means to be human. Each artist has their own unique approach, however, the human figure is their main focus. Celia Paul (b.1959), Cecily Brown (b.1969), Jenny Saville (b.1970) and Lynette Yiadom-Boakye (b.1977) experiment with various processes of mark-making, colour palette and layout in their artworks. Brown, for example, prefers to be fluid in her application of paint, whereas the others are more precise and detailed.

Yiadom-Boakye of Ghanian descent concentrates on cultural identity but leaves the final outcomes with some ambiguity as to their purpose and meaning. With obscure titles, such as Coterie of Questions (2015), the artist invites the viewer to imagine the story behind the name and image. This brings in to question and challenges stereotypical views on race and identity.

Saville, on the other hand, is more like some of the older artists in the previous rooms, particularly Lucian Freud. She concentrates on the appearance of the flesh, refusing to shy away from the unsightly truths of the human body. The painting Tate Britain displays is a self-portrait, which is less shocking than some of her other works. Saville is particularly interested in painting wounded bodies and collects imagery of bruised skin and lacerations as inspiration. Reverse (2002-3) is a realistic representation of the human face, however, it is marred by the split lip and blood surrounding the mouth. Although a beaten up face may not be the average person’s prefered subject, Saville is successfully conveying the human body, emphasising our fragility and physical appearance.

With these four artists concluding the exhibition, All Too Human is a journey through a century of figurative painting. From its origins in the early 20th-century to the present day, the Tate Britain triumphantly reveals the determination artists have had to show humanity in its true form.

“Here are works of art that truly matter, in their humanity, courage, feeling, truth. Whatever it is that makes art profound, Kossoff and Auerbach, Rego and Andrews, Bacon and Freud have it. They are the true heroes of modern British art.”

– Jonathan Jones

Some artworks may be difficult to look at, some may disgust visitors, some may raise questions, some may inspire, but most importantly, they capture real life, real emotions and humanity at its most vulnerable. With a range of different styles, there are many interesting, beautiful and complex paintings to study that can either be taken at face value or considered more philosophically. All Too Human: Bacon, Freud and a Century of Painting Life is not only an art exhibition, it is a visual conversation about what makes us human.

All Too Human: Bacon, Freud and a Century of Painting Life will remain open to the public until 27th August 2018. Entry is £19.50 per person but under 12s may visit for free, however, be aware that some paintings may not be suitable for children. Tickets may be purchased on arrival at the gallery or can be bought in advance online.

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The Making of Harry Potter

Last year marked the 20th anniversary of the first book in the Harry Potter series written by J. K. Rowling. Since then, what began as a bottom-of-the-shelf novel has become an international sensation that is unlikely to fade from society any time soon. Three years after Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone was published, a film production team discovered the story of the young boy who discovers he is a wizard and developed an idea for a film. Filming began in 2000 at a studio in Leavesden on the outskirts of London, a town that has become a significant location on the map.

Warner Bros. Studio is situated on the old land belonging to Leavesden Aerodrome, an airfield that produced fighter planes during World War II and, later, Rolls-Royce aircraft engines. After closing in 1994, the hangars were converted to create suitable soundstages and recording rooms, which would eventually become home to the Harry Potter film cast and crew for over ten years. Now that all eight Harry Potter films have been produced, the studio has converted the place into a shrine-like museum for Potter fans to visit. Warner Bros. Studio Tour London – The Making of Harry Potter reveals the secrets and unbelievable talents of the various departments involved with the biggest film series in history.

Arriving at the studios near Watford is an exciting experience for all Harry Potter fans. Before entering the building, there are photo opportunities with statues of giant chess pieces that featured in the first film and enlarged posters and newspapers containing articles from the fictional publications in the wizarding world. After getting through security checks, visitors can spend some time (potentially hours) in the huge, unfortunately overpriced, gift shop whilst they await their timed entry to the studio. As the ticket holders queue up to enter the magical world of Harry Potter, the smallest set in the films, the cupboard under the stairs, provides a teaser of the delights to come.

After a brief introductory film, visitors assemble in front of a large set of doors, which are eventually pushed open (either by a member of staff or a lucky visitor who is celebrating a birthday) in a way that is comparable with Harry’s first experience of the room on the other side. This is the Great Hall at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry where students have their meals or magnificent feasts and balls. With huge, arched windows, real flagstones, brick walls and enormous torch holders, the hall resembles the inside of an ancient church or Westminster Hall in London.

The Great Hall is set up with two of the four lengthy tables, which the students sit at, and the staff table at the top. Models of eight of the adults stand in front of the latter as though welcoming visitors to Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, is positioned behind his golden owl podium, poised to give one of his memorable speeches.

Missing from the hall, however, is the enchanted ceiling that enthrals first years on their arrival at Hogwarts. Instead, scaffolding and lighting fixtures fill the space, which, in the films, were replaced with computer-generated visual effects to give the sense of a neverending night sky or fill the hall with floating candles.

 

Once visitors have left the Great Hall, they can view the rest of the studio at their own pace. Staff encourage everyone to take their time because, being a one-way tour, it is not possible to return to sections. In order to see everything, visitors are advised to be prepared to stay for three hours, although most people spend many more hours there.

A great number of film settings are on show, fully intact as they would have been during filming. These are surprisingly smaller than the films suggest and it is the clever skills of the cameramen that make the rooms or locations look bigger. The Gryffindor Boys’ Dormitory looks particularly tiny with child-size beds that were originally built for the 11-year old actors, forgetting that they would grow up to be gangly adolescents.

Gryffindor was one of the four houses students were sorted into on their first day at Hogwarts. Throughout Harry’s education, he shared a dormitory with his best friend Ron Weasley and three other boys, Neville Longbottom and Dean Thomas, whose initials can be seen on the trunks underneath their respective beds, and Seamus Finnigan. In the set next door, the Gryffindor Common Room shows the cosy area where Harry, Ron and their friend Hermione Granger would sit to relax or do their homework at the end of the school day. Decorated mostly in red (the house colour), the set decorators sourced medieval-looking tapestries to adorn the walls, old carpets and worn armchairs. Since none of the other house dormitories or common rooms appear in the films, there are no sets to reveal how the rest of the students lived.

The film sets of a couple of other rooms from Hogwarts are included in the tour, Dumbledore’s Office and the Potions Classroom. Dumbledore had a private office at the top of one of Hogwarts’ highest towers. It was only accessible through a secret stairwell, which was protected by a stone Griffin. Phenomenally, designers created this sculpted staircase, which, after the correct password was given, would rise out of a 12ft-hole in the ground.

Dumbledore’s office contains a huge collection of items that reflect the professor’s personality. Fascinated with the night sky, many references to astronomy can be seen around the room. There are also many mythical and fictional artefacts that are a key part of the Harry Potter stories. These include the Sword of Gryffindor and the memory cabinet.

The hundreds of books that line the shelves around Dumbledore’s desk are actually old British phonebooks covered in leather-like materials to give the impression of ancient tomes. Also in abundance are portraits of former headmasters. During production, these portraits numbered 48 and were often paintings of crew members dressed up to look like wizards.

The Potions Classroom set is also jampacked with props, particularly jars, of which there are hundreds. In the story, potions lessons were held in a dark classroom within the school’s dungeon, therefore, designers needed to make the set look as gloomy and dusty as possible.

 

Hagrid’s Hut is also an impressive set, as is the kitchen of Ron Weasley’s house. Rubeus Hagrid was the groundskeeper at Hogwarts and lived in a hut separate from the main castle. Since he was a half-giant, the contents of his hut needed to reflect his size, therefore, large furniture and props were produced. It was also rather crowded and full of cages containing real and fictional animals. On the other hand, The Burrow, belonging to the Weasleys, was a far more cosy set. Although much of the set contains typical items from the homes of “normal” people (or Muggles) many of them have been enchanted (or mechanised). Visitors can make the pans wash themselves, the iron move independently and knitting needles weave wool together by waving their hands over touch-sensitive pads.

Other sets include the green and red-bricked Ministry of Magic, the evil Professor Umbridge’s office, and the sinister Malfoy Manor. Although these were only small, many dedicated hours were taken to make them perfect for the various films. The fireplaces within the Ministry of Magic reached almost 30-feet high and were based on buildings that existed in Victorian London.

Up until this point in the tour, the sets had been rather small, however, three rather large and extremely impressive scenes soon follow. The first is the Forbidden Forest, which, as the name suggests, is a dangerous wooded area on the border of the school grounds. During the first film, scenes were shot on location at Black Park in Buckinghamshire, however, this often caused problems, for instance, unreliable weather, so the production team built their own in Leavesden instead. The tree trunks were built on a monumental scale, sometimes reaching 14-feet wide.

Parents of young children need to be aware that the Forbidden Forest set is particularly dark and involves smoke machines, scary noises and enormous spiders that dangle from the trees. Fortunately, the spiders are not real and are only physical animatronics, but that does not make them look any less terrifying, particularly the 18-foot spider hiding under the tree roots.

 

The next major set was only used during the final film, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows – Part 2. This was Platform 9 3/4 at King’s Cross Station, where students board the train, the Hogwarts Express, on 1st September to take them to school. For the first seven films, any scenes involving the platform were filmed at King’s Cross Station, but for ease of filming, a platform complete with track and train was produced for the very last parts of the series.

On this set, visitors can photograph each other pretending to run through the wall like the characters do in the films in order to access the platform, although, the most exciting part is climbing inside the carriage of the Hogwarts Express. The bright red train has become one of the most iconic vehicles within the film industry, however, it already had a long history prior to Harry Potter. This Great Western Railway 4900 Class 5972 Olton Hall locomotive was once a passenger carriage, the very first to traverse all the different lines in England. The steam engine began work in 1937 and retired in 1963 until it found fame on screen.

Inside one of the carriages, different compartments are set up to show how they appeared in each film. Although the decoration remained the same, the contents differed as the characters got older, beginning with sweet wrappers and ending with more grown-up-looking luggage. At the back of the train, the popular sweets trolley can be seen packed full of magical looking confectionary.

 

 

Eventually, the tour leads to the most impressive of all the Harry Potter sets, Diagon Alley.  In the books and films, Diagon Alley is a magic town hidden within the City of London. Only witches and wizards can access the alley and students go there every summer to buy their books and equipment for the new school year. The set is built to look and feel like an actual street with buildings on either side. Fans will be thrilled to see shops such as Gringotts Bank, Olivander’s, Flourish and Blotts and Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Set designers were inspired by scenes described in the works of Charles Dickens, therefore, walking along Diagon Alley also feels a little like going back in time.

 

Due to their nature, not all the film sets are inside. Within the backlot of the studio, where the animal actors once lived, are a few more important locations featured in the films. Although Harry’s home, or rather the home of his horrible Uncle, Aunt and cousin, was usually shot on location, a replica of his house on Privet Drive was also built. Visitors can enter the building and peak into the lounge, which shows the state of the room when thousands of letters inviting Harry to attend Hogwarts flew down the chimney.

Parked outside the house is another famous vehicle from the series, which appeared in the third film Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Unlike the Hogwarts Express, which was a preexisting train, the Knight Bus was created specifically for the film. In the story, Harry takes the Knight Bus to London when he runs away from home. Being a magical bus, only wizards and witches can see it; it can also change shape and travel at illegal speeds in order to navigate the busy streets.

Designers built the bright purple bus from pieces of vintage London double-deckers. Due to having three floors, the Knight Bus reaches 22-feet and is significantly thinner than average buses. Although visitors cannot board the bus, they can peer into the rear end to see the peculiar interior.

One thing that can be physically experienced is walking across a section of the Hogwarts Bridge. J. K. Rowling never wrote about this bridge, however, it was added to the script for the third film and appeared in several thereafter. Only one section was ever built, the rest being computer-generated, but there is enough for visitors to get a sense of the rickety wooden structure. Made from old-looking wood complete with roofing (a blessing if it is raining), the Hogwarts Bridge is an impressive feat of architecture.

 

It is not only film sets that make up the Harry Potter studio tour. As already mentioned, models of the characters feature within some of the settings, for instance, the Death Eaters seated around the table in Malfoy Manor. There are also other displays of models dotted around dressed up in various costumes. Within the Great Hall at the beginning of the tour, models of the majority of Hogwarts staff stand together dressed in the typical costume they wore throughout the eight films. Around the sides of the hall are figures dressed in Hogwarts uniforms and robes. Each house has bands of different colours running through the material: Gryffindor red, Ravenclaw blue, Hufflepuff yellow, and Slytherin green.

After leaving the hall, the elaborate costumes that featured during the Yule Ball scene in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire are on display. Visitors are particularly drawn to Hermione Granger’s impressive pink gown, which fans can buy replicas of in the gift shop although, these are really expensive. The casual clothes that Harry and his friends wore are also exhibited, showing how their appearance changed as they got older.

Some may wonder why there are two models of the headmaster Albus Dumbledore wearing vastly different robes. The reason for this is the original actor, Richard Harris (1930-2002), died between films two and three. When Michael Gambon (b1940) took over the role, instead of trying to force him into the medieval-style clothing that Harris wore, the costume department gave Dumbledore a quirky make-over.

Only devoted fans would have noticed Imelda Staunton’s (b1956) wardrobe change during her role as the notorious Dolores Umbridge. With an inclination for the colour pink, her wardrobe got pinker and pinker as her power grew. Three outfits can be seen in her equally pink office during the tour.

 

By the time the final film had concluded in 2011, the prop department had either made or purchased over 5,000 pieces of furniture, 12,000 books, and 40,000 packaging designs. Tens of thousands more props were also used in the films that do not fall into those three categories and a great number of them are on show around the tour. For some props, Victorian style objects were purchased with the intention of adapting them to look like a wizard’s device, whereas, others were built entirely from scratch.

The amount of work the prop department, graphics department and artists did for the Harry Potter series is absolutely phenomenal. They were all extremely dedicated members of the crew and spent hours making objects that barely had any screen time. Some of the most impressive are the Goblet of Fire carved from the trunk of an English Elm; doors, such as the Gringotts Vault Door, which was full of motorised moving parts; and the Magic is Might statue carved from foam and painted to look like stone.

 

Other props that were vital to the making of Harry Potter include wands and broomsticks. Each character had a unique wand meaning the prop department produced over 3,000 throughout the filming process. These were made from various materials, such as wood, plastic, and rubber, and were intricately carved so that each one had its own distinct look.

The broomsticks, on the other hand, were less prevalent in the films, most frequently appearing during a game of Quidditch – a wizarding sport. As a result, the prop department did not need as many brooms as they did wands, however, they needed to be carefully designed. Not only did the brooms need to be sturdy enough to take the weight of the actors, they needed to be light enough for an owl to carry; most of the animal scenes were not computer generated, they involved many, well-trained creatures. Three of the brooms are in a display cabinet to show the range of designs. These are named Nimbus 2000, Nimbus 2001, and Firebolt. 

After visitors have perused the Quidditch equipment, there is the option of “riding” a broom themselves. Dressed in Hogwarts robes, individuals can sit on a stationary broom in front of a green screen to have their photograph taken. During the printing process, the screen is replaced with a Harry Potter scene background, which makes a lovely memento of the day.

 

Towards the end of the tour, after everyone has had a chance to try a glass of Butterbeer or some Butterbeer flavoured ice cream, the secrets of the magical creatures in the Harry Potter films are revealed. From actors wearing prosthetic make-up to robots built from steel and foam, the Creature Effects team used every technique imaginable. A lot of computer-generated technology was needed to produce the final, moving shots of the creature, which, in itself, is like a type of magic.

The curators of the Warner Bros. Studio Tour saved the best part to the very end. Described as the “crown jewel of the Art Department” a huge model of the Hogwarts castle fills an entire room. Viewed from a balcony as well as at ground level, the hyperrealistic model is absolutely breathtaking. The construction of the model took almost 100 pairs of hands to complete and was fitted with over 300 fibre optic lights. Everything is built to scale and includes bits of gravel and real plants to make it look as authentic as possible.

For footage involving the exterior of the castle, the filming department combined shots of the model with digital effects to make it look like a real, fully functioning castle. This alone sums up the extent the studio workers were willing to go to make Harry Potter the perfect fantasy film series.

 

The Warner Bros. Studio Tour has won many awards including Best UK Attraction 2017 and Trip Advisor Certificate of Excellence 2017. It cost £41 (adults; children are £33) to enter, which may seem like an enormous fee, however, it is worth every penny. Families can spend the entire day at the studio, either having lunch in the cafe two-thirds of the way through or at the restaurant at the beginning/end of the tour. All the staff are extremely helpful and jump at the chance to reveal further information about objects on display. Whether you are an avid fan or fairly new to the Harry Potter world, you are guaranteed to have a magical day.

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All Hallows by the Tower

The City of London is full of old buildings with historical connections, however, there are very few remains of the original construction of Londinium in AD43. Visible at Tower Hill station is the remains of the London wall that was built around about the year AD200; the majority of the buildings, on the other hand, would have been made with wood, therefore, no longer exist. Nonetheless, Tower Hill is home to some of London’s oldest buildings, for instance, the Tower of London, but there is one site that is 400 years older.

Situated close to the original border of the London wall sits the oldest church in the city, All Hallows by the Tower. Part of the Diocese of London, this Anglican church is still open today for regular services and events, attracting international worshippers and tourists. Founded in AD675, this church predates all the places of worship in the city and has played a part in many significant historical events.

The original wooden building founded by Erkenwald, Bishop of London, no longer exists, however, some sections of the first stone church on the site are still visible. All Hallows, named in honour of all the saints, both known and unknown, was established as a chapel of the abbey of Barking. Historical documents often refer to the church as All Hallows Barking or Berkyngechirche as a result of the connection.

It is estimated that the first stone building was built circa AD900. Within the current building is an arch that has been dated back to the time of the Saxon and Viking invasions on Britain. Unlike most archways, this particular one – most likely the oldest surviving Saxon arch in London – has no keystone and was built using Roman floor tiles. Further evidence of the age of the original stone church was the discovery of a Saxon wheelhead cross during repair works after the Second World War.

 

Beneath the church is an undercroft, which is also thought to date back to the original stone structure. This has been converted into the All Hallows Crypt Museum that tells the story of the church throughout history. It is free to enter and also contains a couple of chapels that are still regularly used today.

The museum begins with evidence of the Roman occupation of Britain. This includes a section of tessellated flooring from the 2nd-century, situated at the bottom of the steps into the crypt. A small model of London, made in 1928, reveals what the city may have looked like in AD400 in comparison to the abundance of buildings that now run alongside the River Thames. In a case opposite the model is a range of artefacts that predate the church. These include Samian pottery, which would have been very expensive in that era, suggesting that the homes of wealthy families may have sat on the site before it was purchased by the abbey of Barking.

As visitors progress through the museum, the timeline takes a sudden leap to the 1600s with a display of silver chalices, basins and medals that made up the Church Plate. These date from 1626 until the 20th century and show the influence the Tudor reformation had on the new Protestant church.

 

The museum progresses through the history of the church until it reaches the first of two underground chapels. The Crypt Chapel or the Vicar’s Vault, as it is also known, contains the Columbarium of All Hallows. This was constructed in 1933 and is the resting place of the ashes of many people who have been associated with the church. During the excavations prior to building the chapel, many of the Roman fragments mentioned above were unearthed. Also discovered, and left where they were found, were three coffins dating from the Saxon era.

The Crypt Chapel is still used for small services today, however, visitors to the museum are asked not to enter, only stand at the back and peer in at the altar on the opposite wall. This altar comes from Castle Athlit or Château Pèlerin in Palestine and has strong connections with the Knights Templar – the Templar cross can be seen carved into the stone frontal. Castle Athlit is thought to have been the last remaining Templar stronghold in the Holy Land during the crusades before being evacuated in 1291.

The Knights Templar were a small band of noblemen founded in the 12th century during the First Crusade who pledged to protect pilgrims journeying to Jerusalem. Unfortunately, they also became money lenders and their wealth gave rise to corruption and jealousy.

The altar in the crypt is not the only connection All Hallows has to these fearless warriors. In 1307, Pope Clement V (1264-1314) ordered the Templars to be restrained and their possessions seized. Edward II (1284-1327) was persuaded to allow the Inquisition judges to use All Hallows as one of the venues for the trials of the Templars. Fortunately, these trials were less violent than those held elsewhere.

Next door to the Crypt Chapel is the Chapel of St Francis of Assisi where the Holy Sacrament is kept in a niche above the altar as a continual reminder of the presence of Jesus Christ. Originally a crypt dating from c1280, it became buried for several centuries, finally being rediscovered during excavation works in 1925. After careful refurbishment, it was opened two years later as a chapel and dedicated to St Francis. It is claimed that this chapel is one of the quietest places in the City of London. Visitors are invited to use the space for their private thoughts and prayers.

Excluding the Saxon arch, the main sanctuary of All Hallows does not look as steeped in history as the crypts and chapels within its foundations. This is because the church has been victim to a number of historical events which caused damage to the architecture and surrounding area. The first recorded disaster occurred on 4th January 1650 when seven barrels of explosives caught fire in a house on Tower Street. Many of the buildings in the vicinity were destroyed and the church’s structure was damaged and every window blown out. Described as a “wofull accydent of Powder and Fyer,” 67 people were killed and many found themselves homeless.

The following year, despite England being under the thumb of the Parliamentarians, permission was granted to rebuild the church. The church’s tower was named the Cromwellian Tower after the original Lord Protector of the Commonwealth. Yet, the door to the tower is known by another name: the Pepys Door.

In 1666, a great fire ravished the streets of London, devouring hundreds of buildings. The flames worked their way down Tower Street, scorching the south side of the church but, thankfully, progressing no further. The tower of All Hallows remained safe from the blaze and it is from here, the diarist, Samuel Pepys (1633-1703) took in the sight of the devastation as he later recorded:

“I up to the top of Berkeing Steeple, and there saw the saddest sight of desolation I ever saw. Everywhere great fires, the fire being as far as I could see … ”

– Samuel Pepys, 1666

The greatest destruction All Hallows suffered transpired during the Second World War in December 1940. The church had survived all the events of the past centuries, however, in less than a minute, a great amount of history was destroyed forever. A firebomb landed on the church, flattening most of the main body of the building. By some miracle, the Cromwellian Tower remained standing, which, thankfully, sheltered the ancient Saxon arch beneath it.

The vicar at the time, Tubby Clayton, was determined to rebuild the church and was supported by connections worldwide. Donations of money and building materials poured in and in July 1948, Queen Elizabeth, the wife of George VI, laid the foundation stone. A photograph of the occasion and the trowel she used can be seen in the crypt museum.

The Australian born Reverend Philip Thomas Byard “Tubby” Clayton (1885-1972) was installed as the Vicar of All Hallows in 1922, however, he was already well-known in the Christian community. After his ordination in 1910, Clayton spent time as an army chaplain during the First World War. During this period, Clayton and fellow chaplain, Neville Talbot (1879-1943) set up a rest house for soldiers in Poperinge, Belgium. Officially called Talbot House but often referred to as Toc H, the international Christian establishment allowed soldiers of all ranks to spend their time on leave in a safe, friendly place.

In a corner of All Hallows known as the Lady Chapel, a lamp sits on the altar tomb of Alderman John Croke (1477). This “Lamp of Maintenance” is a replica of the oil lamp that burnt in the top room of Talbot House during the First World War. Clayton and his work are also remembered by an effigy in the south aisle of the church. His ashes are interred in the Crypt Chapel.

The architecture of the reconstructed church is not as grand as places of worship built in the past, however, it is a large, well lit, open space suitable for a number of different services. Although the majority of the structure was built after the Second World War, the inside houses items from a range of eras. The pulpit originally stood in St Swithin’s Church near Cannon Street and is similar to the one that sat in All Hallows in 1613. The sounding board above it, in the shape of a scallop shell, is a much more modern design.

Like many other churches, the high altar sits in front of a mural of the Last Supper. This painting was produced by Brian Thomas in 1957 after the rebuilding of the church. It shows Christ blessing the bread surrounded by his apostles, however, on the right-hand side, Judas Iscariot is depicted leaving the room to betray Jesus to the Romans. The altar, apart from a cloth decorated with a phoenix-like bird, remains fairly bare – a cross would obscure the face of Jesus in the painting behind it.

To the right of the high altar is an open plan chapel containing memorials of sailors and maritime organisations. Situated near the River Thames, All Hallows was popular with dock workers and their families; the Mariner’s Chapel honours the workers and sailors who lost their lives at sea. Windows along the south wall also contain memorials, such as for the seamen lost on HMS Hood. The crucifix above the altar in the chapel is made from the wood of the Cutty Sark and ivory from one of the Spanish Armada ships.

There are other memorials around the church dating from Tudor times until the World Wars. Up above, and easily missed, is the Organ Loft containing an organ built for the reopening of the church in 1957. Hanging on the balcony is a set of arms that belonged to the Stuart king, Charles II.

Due to its lengthy history, a number of famous names have become associated with All Hallows by the Tower. Miraculously preserved in a dry lead cistern, documents of births, weddings and events in Tower Hill record the names and dates of many who passed through the church, including a couple of well-known individuals.

Handwritten on the baptismal register dated 23rd October 1644 is the entry “William, Son of William Penn & Margaret his wife of the Tower Liberties”. This baby boy, William Penn (1644-1718), would grow up to become an admiral, play a significant role protecting the church during the Great Fire of London, and, finally, move to America and found the state of Pennsylvania.

Another American connection can be found in the marriage register under the date 26th July 1797. On this date, soon to be the sixth president of the USA, John Quincy Adams (1767-1848), was married to Louisa Catherine Johnson (1775-1852). Louisa was a local London girl and, until now, was the only First Lady to have been born outside the United States.

All Hallows by the Tower is so steeped in history, it is impossible to list every connection. Many people and events are remembered through memorials, artefacts, windows and so forth around the church, and special services take place throughout the year. A medieval custom, Beating the Bounds, is observed yearly (this year on Ascension Day) and the Knolly Rose Ceremony, a symbolic event dating from 1381, is held every June.

The church holds regular Sunday services beginning at 11am, which includes a sung communion. There are also a few services throughout the week, for instance, Morning Prayer and a Taizé service. As well as regular attendees, All Hallows attracts an international community and welcomes all visitors to the area.

Free to enter and sheltered from the hustle and bustle of the capital, All Hallows by the Tower is worth a visit. Whether you come for religious purposes, to learn about the history of London or just out of curiosity, you are assured of a warm welcome.

Modigliani

Amedeo Clemente Modigliani (1884-1920) was an Italian painter, sculptor and draughtsman who spent the majority of his working career in Paris. Almost a century after his death, the Tate Modern in London is holding the biggest display of Modigliani’s work in the UK to date, looking back at the artist’s productive, albeit brief, life. With over 100 artworks produced in Modigliani’s distinctive style, this exhibition contains some of the professed most memorable artworks of the 20th century.

“The life of Modigliani, wandering artist, so often resembles a legend, it is difficult to determine fact from fiction.”

-Arthur Pfannstiel, 1929

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Photo: Modigliani

Modigliani died at the age of 35 after a fourteen-year career as an artist. Due to his early demise and his rumoured lifestyle, there has been a lot of incorrect speculation about his character. He was deemed as socially unconventional and earned a reputation as the archetypal romantic painter, starving in a cramped living space, whilst falling victim to alcohol and drugs. Within this exhibition, the Tate Modern attempts to biographically outline his life alongside his intense and controversial artwork.

Born into a Sephardic Jewish family in Livorno, Italy, Modigliani was a rather sickly child, suffering from a handful of illnesses, including Tuberculosis. His mother, at risk of spoiling her son, encouraged his passion for art, which led to him receiving a years education at Micheli’s Art School in 1898, run by the local artist Guglielmo Micheli (1866-1926). This was Modigliani’s first form of artistic instruction, which, naturally given the school’s location, focused on the study of techniques and themes of Italian Renaissance art. Although Modigliani would quickly develop his own style, evidence of his former training can be seen in his paintings, for example, the linear grace of his work resembles that of Botticelli (1445-1510), whereas, his focus on reclining nudes may have stemmed from Titian (1488-1576), who was one of the first artists to produce paintings of this nature.

Modigliani’s personal style began developing almost simultaneously with his move to Paris in 1906. Penniless, Modigliani settled in a commune in Montmartre, where he absorbed ideas from other artists in the area. He was particularly influenced by works he saw by the late Cézanne, adopting the simplicity of loose brushstrokes and method of colour handling. Modigliani is a significant example of the way exposure to new people and places affect artists.

Evidence of Modigliani’s impoverished lifestyle can be seen at the beginning of the exhibition. On more than one occasion, he used both sides of the canvas for different paintings, implying that he did not have enough money to afford new canvases. An example is The Cellist (1909), which contains Portrait of Constantin Brancusi (1909) on its reverse. In other works, ghostly faces can be seen through the bright paint as a result of Modigliani reusing old canvases.

 

Between 1911 and 1913, Modigliani put painting aside in favour of sculpture. At least two dozen were produced within this time period, several of  whichthe Tate Modern has on display. At this time in France, European artists were drawn to museums containing a wide range of historic art and antiquities, particularly from ancient civilisations in Africa. The Egyptian style was a particular favourite of Modigliani, which he replicated in his own carved heads by mimicking the clean lines and elongated facial features.

 

It is thought that Modigliani stole blocks of limestone from building sites to use for his sculptures. It was a far more expensive pursuit than painting, which may be one reason why he abandoned the project. Another reason may have been the outbreak of World War One, which would have restricted his access to materials, but, the most likely explanation for returning to painting was the effect the dust from the carved limestone was having on his weakened lungs. However, these few years spent sculpting brought a new dimension to his artwork.

The distinctive style of portraiture that Modigliani has become recognised for encompasses many of the elements that featured in his sculptures. Rather than painting the sitter as he saw him or her, Modigliani altered their appearances with swan-like necks and almond-shaped eyes. He often left the eyes blank with no discernible iris or pupil. Although not intentional, this makes the portraits look unnerving, like creatures out of a Doctor Who episode.

 

In 1916, Modigliani became friends with the art dealer Léopold Zborowski (1889-1932) and his wife Anna (1885-1978) – both of their portraits are part of this exhibition. Zborowski encouraged Modigliani to go down a new route: painting the female nude. Painting the naked body was nothing new in the art world, however, the way in which Modigliani approached it caused some controversy amongst art patrons.

The models who posed for these paintings dominated the canvas, often making direct eye-contact with the viewer. This indicates the changes occurring in the lives of women at the beginning of the 20th century. Women were more independent and had more say about their bodies. To further emphasise the point, Modigliani went against tradition and included pubic hair in his compositions, showing the true female form and not the idealised male preference. Unfortunately, these paintings were censored by a police commissioner on the grounds of indecency. Twelve of these nudes have been located and loaned to the Tate Modern.

As the exhibition nears its end, visitors see some of the works produced within Modigliani’s final years. As well as this, the exhibition narrative takes a more personal tone, revealing the more private life of the painter. Modigliani travelled to Nice in 1918 to avoid the end of the war and to alleviate his worsening health problems. With him came his pregnant partner, Jeanne Hébuterne (1898-1920) who bore him a daughter of the same name (1918-84). Jeanne became the principal subject of his artwork, however, whilst in the French Riviera, he painted local children and friends, opting for warm Mediterranean colours. Arguably, these are some of his strongest works.

 

The quality of Modigliani’s paintings, however, are a stark contrast to the direction his life was taking. He never made much money from painting, and anything he did earn fueled his growing addiction to drugs and alcohol. Although he continued to paint, his health was deteriorating rapidly and frequently suffered alcohol-induced blackouts. None of this is evident in Modigliani’s final self-portrait. Instead, he looks like a professional, confident painter, well-dressed with paint palette in hand. His dapper appearance initially made him seem reserved and asocial at the beginning of his career, however, his reputation changed rapidly, resulting in the rakish vagabond he ended his life as.

Destroyed by his own self-indulgence, Amedeo Modigliani died on 24th January 1920 in the Hôpital de la Charité where he spent his final days suffering from tubercular meningitis. His fiancee, who was expecting his second child, took her own life the day after his funeral, jumping out of a fifth-story window.

Art historians suggest that if Modigliani had not neglected his health, he could have lived to produce great masterpieces. Modigliani kept his illness secret claiming the symptoms were a result of his drunkenness. At that time in Paris, drunkards were tolerated but disease carriers were not.

 

When Modigliani died, he was well-known amidst the artist communities of Montmartre and Montparnasse, however, he was still unheard of throughout the rest of the world. His posthumous fame began two years later after his work featured in an exhibition at the Galerie Bernheim-Jeune in Paris. This was shortly followed by the publication of a biography by André Salmon (1881-1969) titled Modigliani, sa vie et son œuvre, which introduced Modigliani to people further afield.

Modigliani has been labelled an original artist of his time who modernised figurative painting, however, it is difficult to say how good a painter he was. In comparison to the traditional form of painting, Modigliani’s work is rather poor. On the other hand, modern artists and critics were beginning to develop a taste for unconventional ideas.

Some may say Modigliani’s loose brush strokes are expressive, whereas other people may declare they look rushed. One of his sitters noted that “the portrait was finished after a few hours without him stopping for even a minute.” Others recall that he was always drawing, sometimes ten sketches in one evening. It was almost as if he was addicted to painting in the same way he was addicted to alcohol.

The Tate Modern removes the focus from each individual painting, preferring to reflect on the styles and techniques used during various periods of Modigliani’s life. Regardless of visitors’ artistic preferences, there is something interesting in learning about the artist, his influences, and what led him to paint in this manner.

To delve deeper into the artist’s past, the Tate Modern offers a virtual reality experience, for those willing to queue for half an hour, which takes individuals on a tour of Modigliani’s final studio in Paris. Another option is an audio guide which provides detailed information about specific artworks around the exhibition. The latter, however, is not included in the price of the entry fee.

At £17.70, the exhibition is rather pricey and therefore may not be worth visiting if Modigliani’s artwork is not a favourite style. For members, however, entry is free therefore nothing is lost by viewing the exhibition, and, who knows, it may be more interesting than expected. It is certainly intriguing to find out about an artist’s background, and Modigliani’s life is a heartbreaking story.

Modigliani will remain open until 2nd April 2018. Tickets can be purchased online or on arrival at the gallery. Under twelves go free with a paying adult.

King and Collector

For the first time since the 17th century, a fraction of Charles I’s (1600-49) impressive collection of treasures is reunited in a phenomenal exhibition at the Royal Academy of Arts. It is thought that the Stuart king once amassed over 1500 paintings, which after his execution in 1649, were sold off and scattered across Europe. Thanks to his son and heir, Charles II, who incidentally has an exhibition of his own at the Queen’s Gallery, many of these were retrieved and reclaimed by the royal family. Charles I: King and Collector contain over 100 works including classical sculpture, Baroque paintings, miniatures and tapestries.

The fate of Charles I is largely known, however, his personal life and character often get overlooked. Charles was the second son and youngest surviving child of James VI of Scotland (later James I) and was not destined to become king. Unfortunately, his older brother Henry, the Prince of Wales died in 1612, making Charles heir apparent. Thirteen years later, Charles succeeded his father as king and his volatile reign began. As the king of Great Britain, Charles I angered many people by dissolving Parliament and taking complete control of the country. By 1642, the first of two civil wars had broken out between the Parliamentarians, led by Oliver Cromwell (1599-1658), and the Royalists. Seven years later, Charles was dead, having been beheaded in front of the Banqueting House at Whitehall Palace.

The Royal Academy puts Charles I’s execution to one side and concentrates on the man himself and his huge collection of artworks. At the time, Charles owned the best art collection in Europe and the pieces that remain in the Royal Collection are his greatest legacy. The exhibition begins by introducing a few of the painters that were working at the time of Charles’ reign. These include Anthony van Dyck ,(1599-1641), Peter Paul Rubens (1571-1640), and Daniel Mytens (1590 – 1647), whose self-portraits can be seen in the first gallery.

Two portraits by Van Dyck introduce visitors to the king and his queen, Henrietta Maria (1609-1669), the daughter of Henri IV of France. The painting of King Charles is unusual in that it contains three portraits of the king, each facing a different direction: profile, face on, and half-profile. This painting was not made for display but rather to aid the Italian sculptor Gian Lorenzo Bernini (1598-1680) to produce a bust of the British king. Unfortunately, this sculpture was later lost in a fire. This painting, however, reveals a lot about the way Charles wished to be seen. It is clear from his clothing that he is a man of taste, yet his dreamy expression suggests an air of sensitivity.

Charles’ passion for art began before he became king and was greatly impacted by his travels to Madrid in 1623. The initial purpose of visiting Spain was to explore the possibility of marrying the Infanta Maria Anna, however, it quickly became apparent that this was never going to happen. Instead, Charles returned to England with a number of paintings and artworks. Many of these appear in this exhibition, including several he acquired from the continent later in life, in particular, the second century AD statue of the Greek goddess, Aphrodite.

Aphrodite or The Crouching Venus is one of several Roman marble copies of the lost Hellenistic sculpture. Aphrodite was the Greek goddess of love and beauty who is depicted as a nude in a crouching pose with her hair over her left shoulder.

This was one of the most beautiful antiquities sourced in Mantua for the king. After Charles’ execution, the painter Peter Lely (1618-80) acquired the statue, however, returned it after the restoration of the monarchy. The Crouching Venus can usually be found at the British Museum where it has been on loan since 1963.

Another important artwork with Spanish connections is a large-scale oil painting by Rubens that was gifted to the king by the artist. Peace and War (c1630) was Ruben’s subliminal method of illustrating his hopes for peace between England and Spain. In the background, the Roman goddess Minerva can be seen pushing Mars, the god of war, whilst in the foreground, Pax, the goddess of Peace sits amidst a horn of plenty.

“The King prefers old paintings.” Letter from England to Cardinal Francesco Barberini, 11th July 1635

Many paintings in Charles’ collection were painted long before he was born. A considerable amount of artwork on display comes from the Renaissance era, both Northern and Italian. Hans Holbein the Younger (1497-1543), who had been in service to Henry VIII (1491-1547) was a particular favourite. It is recorded that Charles I owned 44 works by Holbein, who predominantly painted portraits. The example in this exhibition, however, is a biblical scene taken from John 20:17. Noli me tangere (c1528) shows the risen Christ outside his tomb forbidding Mary Magdalene to touch him.

Nearby, another Biblical painting from the same era depicts Adam and Eve standing naked in the Garden of Eden after taking their forbidden bites from the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge. This painting by Jan Gossaert (1478-1532) was sent by the Dutch states in an attempt to curry favour with the king. A number of paintings from Northern Europe were given to Charles as gifts, therefore, it cannot be certain whether he enjoyed these types of works. On the other hand, the sheer number of paintings from the Italian Renaissance, which fills two galleries of the exhibition, imply that the king had a passion for older works.

Biblical scenes were popular amongst Renaissance painters, therefore, it is unsurprising to find several more religious artworks in Charles’ collection. One of particular note is The Supper at Emmaus (c1534) by the Italian painter Titian (1488-1576). Charles acquired this painting in the 1620s shortly before becoming king. It illustrates part of the New Testament recorded in Luke 24:30-31 where Jesus is breaking bread with two disciples after his resurrection. This, however, is not the reason for its significance, it is the techniques of the artist rather than the subject that matters most in this exhibition.

As those who choose to pay for an audio guide will discover, works by Titian influenced many later artists, including Van Dyck who became the Principalle Paynter in Ordenarie to their Majesties in 1632. In the background of Titian’s painting is a large column, which can be seen over Jesus’ shoulder. The positioning of this column is deliberate because it draws the eye to the principal character in the painting, thus denoting his importance. Van Dyck uses this artistic trick in a few of his portraits of Charles I and the royal family. Similarly, William Dobson (1611-46) does the same in a portrait of Charles II, indicating his importance, even at the young age of twelve.

As the king’s painter, Van Dyck was responsible for many of the portraits of members of the royal family. Born in the Flemish city Antwerp, Anthony van Dyck was a teen prodigy who found his feet as an assistant to Peter Paul Rubens. It was during a stay in Italy where Van Dyck encountered paintings by Titian and filled many sketchbooks with drawings based on these. One of these books is displayed in the final gallery of the exhibition.

Van Dyck quickly built up a reputation as a portraitist and was sought out by many aristocrats throughout Europe. King Charles I was one of his many admirers and enticed Van Dyck to come to England with promises of a knighthood, a bountiful salary and a studio in Blackfriars, London. Although he preferred to be in mainland Europe, Van Dyck impressed the British nobility with his impressive paintings.

For the first and possibly only time, the four largest and most important paintings Van Dyck produced of Charles I are on display at the centre of the exhibition. The curators at the Royal Academy have done an excellent job at positioning these tall canvases so that if visitors stand in the centre of the Central Hall, they can turn 360 degrees and take in all four paintings. Three of these focus on the king and his passion for the hunting field, however, the other is a family portrait, featuring his wife and two eldest children.

The first piece Van Dyck was commissioned to produce for the king was the family portrait, which became known as The Great Peece (1632). Charles and Henrietta Maria are both seated on throne-like chairs whilst their pet dogs play on the floor at their feet. The queen holds the baby Mary and Prince Charles, the heir to the throne, clings to his father’s leg. This may appear a casual, informal portrait depicting the foursome as a family rather than rulers of the country, however, there are many subliminal signs that suggest the opposite.

To the king’s right-hand side sits the royal crown atop a red velvet cloth, which indicates Charles’ status. Behind him, in the distance, are the buildings of Westminster, communicating the king’s role in politics. Both of these elements point to Charles’ importance, however, Van Dyck’s use of a column inspired by Titian, is almost an arrow pointing to the most significant person in the painting.

The remaining three paintings show Charles I outside of his family circle. In two of these, Charles is mounted on a horse: Charles I on Horseback with M. de St Antoine (1633) and Charles I on Horseback (1637-8). Equestrian paintings were an emblem of power and Charles wished to appear to the public as a strong ruler. The horses are large and muscular with manes that are not dissimilar to their rider’s hair. Van Dyck uses the strength of these animals to stress the powerful position of the king.

The final large painting, Le Roi à la Chasse or Charles I in the Hunting Field (1636) reflects more of the king’s personality than his position of power. Rather than sitting aside his horse, Charles stands at its head striking a nonchalant pose with a traditional English landscape behind him. Although Charles may not be wearing the royal armour as in the previous two paintings, he is still dressed as befits his status, complete with broad-brimmed hat, an appearance that would become a memorable look for the king.

It is clear from this exhibition that Charles I had an eye for artwork, however, he was not the only one. Henrietta Maria sought out and commissioned a fair share of the collection, particularly the Italian Baroque paintings, which her husband appeared not to be as fascinated with. Like her husband, Henrietta Maria was drawn to religious scenes as well as the occasional Greek or Roman myth. Many of the paintings owned by the queen were commissioned for particular rooms in her apartments, including the Queen’s House in Greenwich.

The Queen’s House was originally going to be a gift for James I’s wife, however, she died before its completion. Henrietta Maria, who received the house as a present from Charles I, made the building’s decoration her personal project. One painter she particularly admired was Orazio Gentileschi (1563-1639) who had once worked for her mother in Paris. Henrietta Maria persuaded the Italian painter to come to England where he decorated one of the ceilings at the house in Greenwich. He also completed canvases for the queen, including Joseph and Potiphar’s Wife (1630-2), which only returned to the Queen’s House last year.

Gentileschi’s Joseph and Potiphar’s Wife is based on a scene from the Book of Genesis (39:7-12) when the Pharaoh’s wife attempts to entice Joseph into bed, who at this time is the captain of Potiphar’s guard. Although Joseph refuses the woman, she uses his cloak, which in the painting she is holding on to whilst Joseph makes his escape, to claim that he had seduced her. The rich colours, smooth skin tone, an abundance of fabric, and the use of chiaroscuro (dramatic lighting, see Caravaggio) that Gentileschi includes in the painting are an indication of Henrietta Maria’s tastes.

Visitors who have also been to the Queen’s House may also recognise the final painting in the exhibition: Landscape with St George and the Dragon (1630-5) by Peter Paul Rubens. This was not one of Henrietta Maria’s acquisitions but a gift to the king from the artist. It is believed that Rubens produced this landscape in honour of England after his year as an English diplomat. It is a depiction of the famous English folktale where Saint George defeats the bloodthirsty dragon, however, in the background can be seen buildings alongside the River Thames. It is also suggested that Saint George has been deliberately painted to resemble King Charles I.

The paintings mentioned above are only a handful of the marvellous artworks that Charles I had in his reputable collection. Within this exhibition are the nine paintings that make up The Triumph of Caesar (1484-92) by the 15th-century artist Andrea Mantegna (1431-1506), and four tapestries showing the Acts of the Apostles. There is also a room devoted to miniatures and small items that were part of the Whitehall Cabinet. These would not have been on public view, therefore, give an insight into Charles’ life behind doors. One item worth noting is the tiny bronze statue of Charles I on horseback by Hubert Le Sueur (1580 – 1658); this is a model of the version erected in Trafalgar Square.

As reported in The Times, the RA exhibition Charles I: King and Collector is “a landmark exhibition. You will not see its likes again. Don’t miss your chance.” This is a very accurate opinion, it is indeed a landmark exhibition and these paintings will never be all in the same place again. Most importantly, the paintings on show are some of the best to have been produced prior to and during the early 1600s. It may be expensive to enter, but after two hours of walking through the galleries, you will agree that it is worth the price.

Charles I: King and Collector is organised in partnership with Royal Collection Trust and remains on show until 15th April 2018. Prices are £18 although concessions are available. 

 

The Mother of Modern Nursing

“When I am no longer a memory, just a name, I hope my voice may perpetuate the great work of my life.”

Florence Nightingale, 30th July 1890

Situated behind St Thomas’ Hospital opposite the Houses of Parliament, is a small museum devoted to the most influential Victorian woman, second only to Queen Victoria. Florence Nightingale (1820-1910) reformed the methods of nursing and saved the British army from medical disaster during the Crimean War. Now, largely remembered as the “Lady with the Lamp”, the Florence Nightingale Museum aims to deepen the understanding of her achievements and legacy. With a whole range of “Nightingalia”, the museum delves deeper into the life of Florence Nightingale to discover the true woman beneath the sentimental image of a ministering angel.

Split into three main sections, the museum takes visitors through a journey of Florence’s family life, her work during the Crimean war, and her campaign for better health care. Additionally, photographs, posters, medals, and certificates are displayed around the room in tribute to those who followed in her footsteps. Florence Nightingale left an enormous legacy behind her and it is partially due to her industriousness that health care has become the safer and respected field it is today.

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Lithograph of Florence Nightingale with Athena the owl after a drawing by Parthenope Nightingale

Florence was born in the Italian town of the same name on 12th May 1820 to an upper-middle-class British family. Her older sister, Frances Parthenope (1819-90) who later married Harry Verney, 2nd Baronet, was also born in Italy. The wealthy family spent a lot of time travelling as well as residing in two homes on the British Isles: Lea Hurst in Derbyshire and Embley Park in Hampshire.

The Nightingale girls were educated at home, firstly by a governess and later by their father, William (1794-1874). Although Florence and Parthenope may not have had the opportunity to attend a school, their education was equal to that of any boy. William taught his children mathematics and statistics, which was not considered a lady-like subject during that era. Florence thoroughly enjoyed these lessons, which soon developed into a passion for health sciences and nursing.

27332051_10213127295008438_4139724958146561665_nBoth sisters were very keen writers and also learnt to speak Greek, Latin, German, French and Italian. Parthenope was less scholarly than her younger sister, however, she developed a passion for art and literature and often produced sketches of Florence, including one with her rescued pet owl. Athena was a cantankerous owl who Florence found on the Acropolis in Athens. She became Florence’s constant companion and her stuffed body is on display at the museum along with a selection of Parthenope’s artwork.

Women in the 19th-century had very little job prospects and those in the middle classes were also restricted by their status. When Florence announced her desire to become a nurse, her family were horrified. Only working-class women were nurses and hospitals were unsanitary, dangerous places. The reputation of nurses at the time was also very demeaning, however, believing that it was God’s calling, 17-year-old Florence was adamant to become a nurse.

After studying nursing in secret, Florence was given permission from her parents to go to the Deaconess’s Institute of Kaiserswerth in the city of Düsseldorf, Germany where the Protestant pastor, Theodor Fliedner (1800-64), owned a hospital, orphanage and college. Here, Florence received a proficient education in medicine, how to dress wounds, and how to care for the sick.

Without this education and experience, Florence would have been in no position to become so heavily involved in the hospitals during the Crimean War. British soldiers were sent to the Crimea (modern-day Ukraine) to join the French and Ottoman Turks to fight against the Tsar’s Russian army for dominance in the eastern Mediterranean. The conflict began in October 1853 and, by the following year, details of the horrific conditions of the army hospitals appeared in reports about the British troops: more soldiers were dying from diseases than enemy action.

Appalled at the news being reported in newspapers, Florence Nightingale was determined to do something about the state of the hospitals. She got her chance when the Secretary of State for War, Sidney Herbert (1810-61), asked her to be in charge of a group of 38 nurses being sent out to help. On arrival at the base hospital in Scutari, Constantinople (now Istanbul), the nurses discovered an overcrowded building without enough beds for the wounded, a shortage of blankets, and barely enough food. Many of the soldiers were worse off than when they first entered the hospital with four times as many dying from cholera and dysentery than their original wounds.

A lack of management in the hospitals meant that no improvements could be made, so Florence Nightingale quickly took charge, instructing the nurses and doctors as well as looking after the wounded. She also wrote to newspapers back home requesting donations to purchase supplies for the hospitals, however, she also used a significant amount of her own money. Gradually, things began to change for the better, the hospital was cleaner, better equipped and a much safer environment.

NPG D5364; Florence Nightingale published by Illustrated London News

Illustrated London News, woodcut, published 24 February 1855

On 24th February 1855, Florence Nightingale reached celebrity status after a drawing appeared of her in an edition of the Illustrated London News labelling her “Lady with the Lamp”. Florence treated the soldiers as equals regardless of their ranks and cared about both their physical and mental health, their welfare, and their families back home. Soldiers wrote letters about the nurse, describing her as a guardian angel of the troops. At night, she would stride up and down the ward, lamp in hand, making sure everyone was okay. The sound of footsteps can be heard in one area of the museum, suggesting what the soldiers may have heard every evening.

The “Lady with the Lamp” connotation inspired many artists of the time and numerous drawings began to appear of the exemplary nurse. Most of these artists had never met Florence before, therefore, the imagery looks nothing like her. There was also a misunderstanding about the type of lamp she carried. Artists mistakenly showed Florence holding a Greek or genie lamp, however, this would not have been the case. The type of lamp Florence had access to was a Turkish lantern or a fanoos, which would have been easily obtainable in Scutari. An example is on display in the museum.

 

Florence hated the celebrity “buzz fuzz” and never believed that she deserved the fame; she cared much more about saving men’s lives than her reputation. In fact, she felt like a failure because so many men died, however, the rest of the world did not agree. Known throughout the world, Florence was honoured with souvenirs and pottery figures, which members of the public could purchase. Many examples are displayed in the museum showing the variety of artistic portrayals, none of which were completely accurate. Florence refused to sit for portraits, therefore, these souvenirs were based upon description or memory.

As well as these physical mementoes, a number of songs and poems were written about Florence Nightingale, solidifying the analogy of the lady or angel with the lamp. One of these was written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-82) in 1857, titled Santa Filomena.

Lo! in that house of misery
A lady with a lamp I see
Pass through the glimmering gloom,
And flit from room to room.

And slow, as in a dream of bliss,
The speechless sufferer turns to kiss
Her shadow, as it falls
Upon the darkening walls.

Although Florence Nightingale was a significant figure during the Crimean War, her fame has greatly overshadowed the others who helped to improve the lives of the British troops whilst they were fighting overseas. The museum attempts to acknowledge a few of these names, including the French Chef, Alexis Soyer (1810-58) who improved the hospital kitchens and army rations. He also helped to train the army cooks but, unfortunately, became ill due to exposure to the unsanitary conditions and died at the age of 48.

Another person who deserves recognition is the Jamaican-born herbalist, Mary Seacole (1805-81) who went to the Crimea on her own volition, determined to use her skills to aid the troops and the locals. Initially, she had applied to travel as a nurse, however, her application was rejected with the explanation that her methods of nursing were not appropriate. It is also likely, although rarely alluded to, that she was turned down because she was black.

After travelling independently, Mary Seacole set up a surgery near Balaclava named the British Hotel. In her own words, the establishment was “a mess-table and comfortable quarters for sick and convalescent officers.” She used the natural, herbal remedies she had learnt in the Caribbean to relieve the pain and sickness of the wounded. The museum provides details about the herbs and compounds available to her and what she used them for. Although these may not be seen as conventional as the medications available today, Mary helped hundreds of men and earned the affectionate title “Mother Seacole”.

NPG 6856; Mary Jane Seacole (nÈe Grant) by Albert Charles Challen

Mary Seacole (1805–1881), c.1869, by otherwise unknown London artist Albert Charles Challen (1847–1881)

Unlike Florence who was well known and funded, Mary Seacole did everything from her own resources. Unfortunately, this meant that after the Crimean War ended in 1856, she found herself bankrupt and unable to return home. Propitiously, she was well loved amongst the veteran troops who organised benefit concerts to raise funds to get her back on her feet. Seacole also wrote a record of her experiences, Wonderful Adventures of Mrs Seacole in Many Lands, which she published and profited from.

Most likely due to her race, Mary Seacole was forgotten about after the war and never received the same recognition as Florence during her lifetime. Due to the Black Civil Rights Movements of the 20th-century, the world is beginning to learn of the figures who had been whitewashed out of history. In 1991, she was posthumously awarded the Order of Merit – an honour that Florence had been presented in 1907. Seacole was also listed as the favourite black Briton in 2004 and, more recently, a formidable statue of the pioneer nurse was erected outside St Thomas’ Hospital in 2016.

It may seem unfair that Florence Nightingale achieved worldwide fame, whereas Mary Seacole received nothing, but as the museum proves, Florence did far more than carrying a lamp up and down a dirty hospital ward. When she returned to England she was critically ill with what doctors labelled the “Crimean fever”. It is thought now that Florence had contracted the bacterial infection brucellosis from consuming infected meat or dairy products whilst abroad. The illness recurred throughout her life, leaving her at the point of death on more than one occasion, however, she did not let this stop her from continuing to campaign for health reform.

A year after the Crimean War, British troops were once again fighting, this time in India. Although she was unable to visit the country, Florence investigated the hospital situations and wrote many letters demanding that the conditions be improved. Whilst confined to bed, Florence penned over 200 books, pamphlets and articles about nursing, hospitals, hygiene, and sanitation. Her Notes on Nursing, published in 1860 was greatly received by ordinary women wishing to provide the best care for their families. Queen Victoria was also an appreciative reader.

As well as nursing, Florence Nightingale wrote about religion, philosophy, statistics, India, travel, and the frustrations of life for educated women. Despite this, reforming the public health system was at the forefront of her mind. During the war, funding was raised to open the Nightingale School in her honour at St Thomas’ Hospital. Here, aspiring nurses could be educated properly and the profession soon became a respectable position for women.

Florence Nightingale died at the age of 90 in 1910, but her legacy remains. Although nursing has moved on from the methods that Florence introduced, her insistence that prevention through cleanliness was better than cure, radically changed the ways hospitals were managed.

 

The Florence Nightingale Museum was opened in 1989 by the Honorable Lady Ogilvy (b1936) and later modernised in May 2010 in acknowledgement of the centenary of Florence’s death. With unique methods of display, the museum provides an enormous amount of information about Florence, the war, and her legacy. Suitable for adults and children, visitors come away far more knowledgeable than when they entered.

The museum is by no means large, however, it is easy to spend over an hour reading the information, looking through drawers, discovering hidden peepholes, watching videos, admiring stuffed animals, and playing Florence’s favourite word game. It is a hidden treasure of London and well worth discovering. It is also a fun place for school parties to attend, complete with an actress dressed up as a rather convincing Florence Nightingale.

The Florence Nightingale Museum is open from 10am and is located at parking level on the grounds of St Thomas’ Hospital. Tickets are priced at £7.50 for adults (£4.80 concessions) and £3.80 for children, and allow you to return throughout the day should you wish to do so. Do not forget to find the Mary Seacole statue whilst you are there, too.

Charles II: Art & Power

The first half of the 1600s were a turbulent time for the English with civil war, the beheading of a king, over a decade of Cromwellian rule, and, finally, the restoration of the Stuart Monarchy. The Royal Collection Trust has foraged through their huge hoard of paintings to put together an exhibition to illustrate the restoration of the monarchy and the rule of Charles II (1630-85). Charles II: Art & Power, held at The Queen’s Gallery, Buckingham Palace, celebrates the resurgence of the arts in England, reinforced by Charles II’s position as king. The colourful court life was a stark comparison to the dreariness of the Republic with a rise in paintings and rich materials, and the reproduction of regalia.

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Charger 1680 – 1700 Faience

The exhibition starts off with a look at the final moments of Charles I’s life (1600-49) before he was committed for treason and beheaded in January 1649 outside the Banqueting Hall in Whitechapel. The Commonwealth which followed lasted a little more than a decade with the puritan Parliamentarian general, Oliver Cromwell (1599-1658) in charge. The remaining Stuarts were forced into exile, resulting in the story of the oak tree, which was where part of Charles II’s mythology, arose from. After the royalists lost the battle, the son of Charles I spent a day hiding in a great oak tree at Boscobel House in Shropshire. Commemorative wares, such as the dish on display, were sold in honour of his bravery after the restoration of the monarchy.

Charles II’s coronation took place on 23rd April 1661 and was the most extravagant since Elizabeth I’s the century before. During the Commonwealth, most of the ceremonial items needed for the inauguration had been sold or destroyed, therefore the Jewel House needed to be replenished and royal regalia remade. A number of these items are on display in the gallery and a few are still used today in royal ceremonies. A particularly noteworthy piece of regalia is the Collar and Badge of the Order of the Garter designed by Sir Robert Vyner (1631-88) specifically for Charles II’s coronation. It is made from gold and set with 20 large and 100 small diamonds.

 

 

Charles II’s reign was not the only change affecting England in the mid-1600s, the restoration of the monarchy occurred simultaneously with the development of print production. As a result, Charles II was the first king to include prints in his growing art collection. Artists also converted portraits of the monarch into printed versions, which, although he never owned himself, are featured in the gallery.

Two prints of portraits by Sir Peter Lely (1618-80) show the difference between two printmaking techniques. The first is an etching produced by Peter Vandrebanc (1649-97). The majority of early prints used this method in which a painting was carefully copied and etched onto a metal plate and covered with ink in order to transfer the drawing onto paper. The second, similar portrait was produced by Abraham Blooteling (1640-90) by a process called mezzotint (“half-tone”). Unlike its forerunning techniques, mezzotint avoided the line marks that cross-hatching caused and produced high-quality, tonal images instead.

 

As well as portraits of the king, his wife and mistresses, of whom he had many, were also the subjects of detailed prints. These were adapted from paintings by various artists, however, Charles II never owned them himself. The benefit of printmaking was that several copies of the same image could be made at once, thus lowering the cost, making them affordable to members of the public. Many prints found themselves pinned on the walls of taverns and coffee shops where they could be appreciated by the masses and demonstrated the shop owners’ loyalty to the royal family.

The prints that Charles II did collect had a more functional nature. A particular print worthy of note was a map of London that revealed the damages caused by the Great Fire of London. The fire broke out on Sunday 2nd September 1666, only a few years into the king’s reign. Instead of fleeing for safety, Charles found himself standing before the heat of the flames, helping and overseeing the extinguishing of the destructive inferno. Shortly after the three-day long blaze, Charles commissioned his scenographer Wenceslaus Hollar (1607-77) to produce a detailed map revealing the buildings that had succumbed to the devastation. With the aid of the map, plans to rebuild a better, safer London was initiated and conducted quickly and efficiently.

 

Due to printmakers’ abilities to produce numerous copies of one item, illustrators and writers took full advantage in order to send their work out to a much wider audience. As a result, many satirical pieces began to arise, including the farcical The Horrid Hellish Popish-Plot (1682). With illustrations by an anonymous artist, the broadsheet attempted to mock the printed account A True Narrative of the Horrid Plot and Conspiracy of the Popish Party (Oates, 1679). The Popish Plot was indeed a fictitious conspiracy concocted by Titus Oates (1649-1705) in an attempt to accuse Catholics of conspiring to assassinate Charles II. The broadsheet owned by the Royal Collection Trust likens Oates’ testimony to the false witnesses who testified against Jesus Christ and included illustrations that resemble Judas Iscariot’s betrayal.

It is not until midway through the exhibition that the artworks begin to describe and reveal the actual life and reign of Charles II. The restoration of the monarchy not only reverted England to its Kingdom status, it essentially rebooted the lives of the royals. Just as the royal regalia previously mentioned had been destroyed, so too had the former residences, palaces and castles belonging to the first Stuart king. As a result, only Whitehall Palace and Hampton Court, which Cromwell had commandeered for his personal use, remained in functioning order.

Unfortunately, funds were low, and with many things in need of replacing, only Windsor Castle was rebuilt during Charles II’s lifetime. Of course, Windsor Castle has been revamped since the Stuarts were on the throne, however, watercolour illustrations by Charles Wild (1781-1835) reveal what the interior of the castle looked like after Charles’ renovations. On the ceiling of the St George’s Hall was a fresco painting featuring Charles II at its centre. All that remains of this fresco is the head and shoulders of the king which somebody had the foresight to rescue and preserve.

 

Charles II was a significant figure in the resurgence of arts and could often be found surrounded by beautiful women, actors, scientists and poets. His passion for the theatre re-established the playhouses which he and his court would regularly attend. This also marked a significant turning point in stage production; for the first time in history, women were allowed to act on stage. Previously, female parts had been performed by young male actors, but now women could take those positions themselves, including one of Charles’ long-time mistresses, Nell Gwyn (1650-87).

Being a great encourager of the arts, paintings became an expression of power for the monarch and his family. Not only did he own paintings of himself and his wife, he had all his mistresses painted as well. Amongst portraits of these ladies, including Nell Gwyn, Barbara Villiers, Duchess of Cleveland (1641-1709) and Mary Bagot, Duchess of Falmouth and Dorset (1645-79) sits the painting of Catherine of Braganza (1638-1705) who Charles married in 1662. Less alluring than her husband’s lovers, Catherine is depicted as a shepherdess, complete with a little lamb which may have been a reference to the children court and society hoped for her to have.  Unfortunately, despite three miscarriages, Catherine produced no royal heirs.

The most significant portrait in the collection is without a doubt the king himself, painted by John Michael Wright (1617-94). Featuring heavily on advertisements for the exhibition, this recognisable portrait is of a formidable size and is an outstanding piece of artwork. Charles II sits on a throne wearing the royal crown and is dressed in parliamentary robes over his Order of the Garter costume. In one hand he carried the Orb and the other the sceptre, both of which were made by Sir Robert Vyner for the king’s coronation. The colours and pose of the sitter are similar to portraits of past monarchs, thus conveying the continuation of the royal line.

 

Walking around the gallery, looking at the members of the royal court, it is easy to think of these historical figures as a form of still life, to be studied at a distance like precious objects in a museum. However, these were real people living real lives, but what is even more important is that these paintings do not represent the majority of the English population. At midday and midafternoon, talks are held at the gallery in front of Charles II’s prestigious portrait. Although each discourse will differ depending on the speaker, it is likely that the gallery worker will enlighten visitors about the true living situations of the people of London.

Before the Fire of London, houses were a mess of materials held together more by luck than architectural skill. One could be as bold as to say the fire did the people a favour by destroying their inadequate abodes in order to rebuild nicer looking, safer structures. The streets, however, would have been full of disease-ridden waste, including human excrement, which would be thrown from the windows of houses due to the lack of a sewage system. The streets of London stank and the Thames was full of the debris and detritus that flowed into it. The capital was not a pleasant place to live and the Royals were the only people who could reside there in comfort.

Whilst Charles’ collection of paintings may have hidden the true situation in London, they did introduce people of lower status. Although painted a year after the king’s death, an example of this features a full-length portrait of a domestic servant. Before the seventeenth century, it was extremely rare for a servant to feature in a painting let alone be the main subject. Bridget Holmes (1591-1691) was painted by the artist John Riley (1646-91) when she was at the ripe old age of 96. She had already served both Charles I and II and was now the “Necessary Woman” of James II. She would later serve under William III until her death at the age of 100. It is likely that this painting was produced in honour of her dedication to the royal family.

Charles’ love of the theatre resulted in actors (and actresses) receiving more respect than they had done in the past. John Lacy (c1615-81) was a comic actor who was a particular favourite of the king. Lacy was honoured with a three-in-one portrait which depicted himself in three different theatrical roles: the lead from The Taming of the Shrew, Monsieur Device from the Duke of Newcastle’s The Country Chaplain, and Parson Scruple in John Wilson’s The Cheats.

 

Although these portraits were one way of rebuilding the royal art collection, Charles II was determined to recover the original artworks belonging to his father. The Parliamentarians had sold off nearly all paintings belonging to Charles I, and the new king was doubtful that he would retrieve many of them. However, after instructing his subjects to return them immediately (later making this law), a significant amount was returned. Charles II was also gifted paintings from many dignitaries across Europe, including 28 from the States of Holland and West Friesland. In all, Charles II owned over 1000 paintings, a handful of which are exhibited in the final room at the gallery.

Charles preferred the Old Masters but also collected contemporary classical-style paintings. Those that were not returned or gifted to the king were likely ones he had purchased himself. Not believing he would ever see his father’s collection again, Charles sought out an art dealer in Breda, the Netherlands and purchased 72 paintings. One of these is the famous Massacre of the Innocents by Pieter Bruegel the Elder (1525-69). This popular image illustrates the slaughtering of babies under the orders of King Herod as written in Matthew’s Gospel in the New Testament after he learnt about the birth of Jesus from the wise men.

The royal collection accumulated other religious scenes from the art dealer and artists themselves who chose to honour the king with gifts of their paintings. One painter, Carlo Dolci (1616-86), sent Charles two paintings of biblical women: The Penitent Magdalene and Salome with the Head of John the Baptist. The latter refers to the imprisonment of John (Matthew 14: 3-12 and Mark 6: 17-29) and his subsequent beheading at the request of Herodias’ daughter.

Charles II also commissioned artists to produce paintings for rooms at Windsor Castle. Two examples are the mythological scenes painted by Benedetto Gennari (1633-1715) which hung in the king’s dining room. Titled Venus and the Sleeping Adonis and The Triumph of Galatea, these oil paintings represent love stories from Ovid’s Metamorphoses.

 

It is interesting to take note of the varying style of paintings collected by the third Stuart king. He owned a mix of religious and mythological narrative artworks, tapestries, portraits and so forth from a wide range of painters. This could potentially be a result of Charles’ desperation to rebuild his father’s grand collection, however, it is just as likely that he was an art aficionado and enjoyed an assortment of approaches and topics.

Admittedly, there are not many paintings at the Charles II exhibition that have the “wow factor”, nor do they linger in the mind after leaving the gallery. Although this is first and foremost an art exhibit, what the Queen’s Gallery has effectively achieved is an articulate history of the restoration of the monarchy. The combination of art and written explanation, as well as an optional audio guide, reveal to visitors far more than they may have learnt at school or discovered in their own time. Those whose interests lie in both British history and 16th- and 17th-century art will greatly enjoy and benefit from this exhibition – that is not to say, of course, that others will not!

Charles II: Art & Power will remain at the Queen’s Gallery, Buckingham Palace until Sunday 13th May 2018 leaving plenty of time for those who have not yet had the opportunity to view the exhibition to book their tickets. Entry prices for adults are £11 and this includes the option of a free audio guide which elaborates on certain paintings and objects.