The History of Gardening

The Garden Museum, housed in the former church of St Mary-at-Lambeth in London, is Britain’s only museum of the art, history and design of gardens. The church, adjacent to Lambeth Palace on the South Bank of the River Thames, was deconsecrated in 1972 and scheduled for demolition. Fortunately, the building was saved when a tomb belonging to two 17th-century royal gardeners and plant hunters John Tradescant the Elder (1570s-1638) and the Younger (1608-62) was discovered in the churchyard. John and Rosemary Nicholson who found the tomb were inspired to turn the building into the world’s first museum dedicated to gardening.

The main section of the museum is on the first floor, which has been added to the main body of the church. The collection includes a wealth of information about the history of gardening and displays a collection of tools, art and other ephemera.

The Garden Museum

What constitutes a garden? Areas of land can be private, public, designed or wild, however, what makes it a garden is the activity within it. Gardens are usually maintained, cultivated or used for public and private enjoyment and recreation. The history of gardens begins in 1600, towards the end of Elizabeth I’s reign, when John Tradescant, the first great gardener, began his career, however, it was only the wealthy that could afford such privileges.

It was during the 18th and 19th century when the general public began enjoying their private gardens. Whilst farming has been a necessity throughout time, gardening for pleasure has increased rapidly over the last few centuries. Flower Shows began emerging in the North, the first taking place in Norwich in 1843; the show was dedicated to chrysanthemums. Three years later, the craze had spread across the rest of Britain.

Prizes were awarded at Flower Shows for various achievements. Gardeners competed for best flowers, biggest vegetables, neatest gardens and so forth. To begin with, these were held in small communities but today, some competitions have reached a national scale.

Amateur Gardening Magazine, 1899

The Woolworth Gardener, 1950s

Advice for gardeners began being printed and distributed as early as 1826 when the first gardening magazine, The Gardener’s Magazine, was established. Initially, this was targetted at the gardeners of country estates but it soon found a more general readership. Taking advantage of this, The Amateur Gardening Magazine was founded in 1884, providing advice about plants, soil and seasons. The magazine is still published today.

Other companies soon jumped on the bandwagon, producing magazines such as The Garden Home Journal (1907), Understanding Gardening (1960s) and The Woolworth Gardener (1950s). The latter was published by Woolworths, then Britain’s biggest seller of seeds and bulbs. It included advice from many professional gardeners and boasted that it was “a guide to successful gardening for all“.

From the mid-to-late 20th century, gardening advice moved to televisions with programmes such as Gardeners’ World in 1969. The show was presented by Percy Thrower (1913-88) who had been professionally gardening since the age of 18. Thrower was known for his early work at Windsor Castle, promoting the Dig for Victory campaign during the Second World War, and designing the Blue Peter garden. In 1974, Thrower created the Master Gardener Series, providing simple guides about sowing seeds and other gardening tips.

Percy Thrower died in 1988, however, his legacy lives on in the continuation of Gardeners’ World and the introduction of other gardening programmes, such as Ground Force (1997-2002).

Growing flowers was by no means a new concept in Britain. People had kept window boxes and bought cut flowers from markets to display in their homes for hundreds of years before they began maintaining larger gardens. From the late 19th century, however, owning a garden was not just about growing plants, they became places of leisure. Croquet and lawn tennis became popular and children used gardens as a space to play and invent numerous games.

Around the same time, novelty items began to appear in gardens, for instance, the garden gnome and, later, pink flamingoes. Today, garden centres are full of traditional and contemporary sculptures specifically designed to stand on lawns or hide in flowerbeds. Since the mid-20th century, children’s playthings: swings, slides, climbing frames; have dominated lawns. Unfortunately, due to the modernisation of towns and cities, not everyone has the opportunity to own a private garden.

Fortunately, the lack of a garden does not prevent people from enjoying flowers and plants. Cut flowers have been available in London since Covent Garden Market opened in the 1630s. As modes of transport improved, different types of flowers became available at the market, for instance, daffodils from Lincolnshire, violets from Devon and, by the 1900s, carnations from southern France.

Today, florists sell flowers from all over the world, particularly from Holland. In Britain, the changing seasons control which plants can be grown throughout the year, however, thanks to air travel, it is possible to order whatever cut flowers we desire, whenever we want. The majority of roses sold in Britain, for instance, come from Kenya.

William Bligh by Alexander Huey (1814)

The Tomb of Captain Bligh

Statistically, Britain has the least native flora than any country in Europe other than Ireland. From as early as the 16th century, “plant hunters” were sent to other countries to discover foreign plants and introduce them to Britain. Snowdrops and tulips were found in the Ottoman Empire and Sunflowers arrived from Central America. Later, in the 19th century, explorers found rhododendrons and wisteria in the Himalayas.

Some of these expeditions were funded by aristocrats who wished to show off exotic plants in their gardens. Other trips were arranged for scientific reasons by the government. The plants that were gathered were brought to the botanical gardens at Kew where botanists could learn about the foreign flora and their potential economic and medical properties.

Buried in the gardens of the church/museum is Vice-Admiral William Bligh (1754-1817) who captained the Royal Navy vessel HMS Bounty in 1789. His main task was to transplant the breadfruit from Tahiti to the British colonies in the West Indies as cheap but nutritious food for slaves. The breadfruit had been found when Captain James Cook (1728-79) had sailed to Tahiti in 1769. Sir Joseph Banks (1743-1820), the founder of the Botanic Gardens at Kew, who travelled with Cook was intrigued by this “miracle food” that bore fruit for seven months of the year. The fruit could also be easily stored and dried so that it was available for the remaining five months.

At 22 years of age, Bligh accompanied Cook on his final voyage where Cook, unfortunately, was killed on the island of Hawaii. Due to his experience at sea, Bligh was chosen by Banks to captain HMS Bounty and transplant the breadfruit tree. During a five-month stay in Tahiti, Bligh and two gardeners collected a thousand cuttings of the breadfruit, however, they never managed to transport them to the West Indies. Led by Fletcher Christian (1764-93), some of the Bounty’s crew decided to take over the ship. Unable to regain control of the mutineers, Bligh and his loyal sailors rowed over 4000 miles to safety.

Fortunately, Bligh was able to return to Tahiti in 1793 aboard HMS Providence. This time, the ship reached Jamaica with 1,281 breadfruit plants. Today, the plants grow abundantly across the Caribbean.

Bligh went on to serve in the Napoleonic wars before becoming the Governor of New South Wales, Australia in 1806. Unfortunately, due to his sympathetic attitude towards the poor settlers, he was overthrown by the rich colonists. Bligh returned to England where he eventually died at home in Bond Street, London in 1817. He was buried in a tomb at St Mary’s, which had been built for his wife Betsy.

Initially, it was only the aristocracy that could afford to purchase the plants that explorers like Cook and Bligh collected, however, in the 18th century, nurseries were set up where the general public could purchase the seeds to sow in their private gardens. These nurseries were the precursor to today’s garden centres.

Unlike the nurseries, garden centres can assist with landscaping as well as maintaining plants. Garden design is believed to be one of the most challenging forms of design. The designer must understand the properties of plants and soils as well as be able to imagine aesthetically pleasing spaces. Garden designers are not only responsible for the positioning of plants but also walls, paths and features, such as ponds and fountains.

Plan of the Eden Project, 1998

Garden design can be studied as a profession, although many people save money by designing their family gardens. Public gardens, however, need the attention of professionals to make them safe as well as attractive for visitors. As an example, the museum displays a copy of Dominic Cole’s (b.1957) design for the Eden Project.

“Tools make the garden. We, the gardeners, may dream and scheme to our heart’s content, but with no more than our bare hands we can’t proceed far down the garden path with our imagined garden plan. We can’t even begin to make the path.”
– Christopher Thacker, garden historian

To design and maintain a garden properly, the gardener needs to have access to the right tools. Today, standard tools can be found in all good garden centres and DIY shops, however, in the 17th century, tools were made specifically for individual gardeners. For years, most gardeners relied on hand tools, however, techniques began to change in the 19th century.

In 1830, Edwin Budding invented the first lawnmower. Up until then, grass was cut using scythes or even sheep, but Budding, inspired by a factory machine for cutting cloth, developed a way to make maintaining lawns much easier.

The introduction of new materials allowed for cheaper and quicker production of garden tools. In the 1960s, the plastic flower pot became popular and plastic was also used to make watering cans. The development of rubber hoses provided an alternative, faster way of watering the garden. Putting the current war on plastic to one side, these inventions made gardening accessible for everyone, regardless of skill.

The museum contains examples of tools throughout the years, examples of seeds, gardening magazines and a wealth of information. Located at various points around the displays are information boards about several people who have contributed to the world of gardening.

Humphry Repton (1752-1818)

Humphry Repton was the last great English landscape gardener of the 18th century. Born in Bury St Edmunds, Repton was destined for a life as a merchant until he visited the Netherlands where a wealthy Dutch family introduced him to the joys of drawing and gardening. Repton attempted a career as a textile merchant, however, he was unsuccessful and moved to a modest cottage near Romford, Essex. With no secure income to support his wife and four children, 36-year-old Repton turned to garden landscaping.

Repton’s first paid commission was Catton Park in Norwich in 1788. Despite having no experience, he became an overnight sensation. Repton began producing “Red Books” full of watercolours and text to help his clients visualise his proposed designs. The Garden Museum displays one of these books and a brief video showing Repton’s design process.

Sadly, Repton was involved in a carriage accident which left him unable to walk for the final seven years of his life. Fortunately, Repton’s work has secured his name in the history of gardening. Three roads in Romford and Gidea Park, near where he lived in Hare Road (now Main Road), have been named after him: Repton Avenue, Repton Gardens and Repton Drive.

Over the length of his career, Repton produced designs for over 70 grounds of country houses in Britain. These include Crewe Hall, Dagnam Park, Higham’s Park, Kenwood House, the Royal Pavillion, Russell Square in Bloomsbury, Stubbers in North Ockendon, Wanstead Park, Warley Woods, Wembly Park and Woburn Abbey. Jane Austen (1775-1817) referenced Humphry Repton in her novel Mansfield Park.

William Robinson (1838-1935)

William Robinson was an Irish practical gardener who popularised the English cottage garden. He began gardening at an early age when he became the “garden boy” for the Marquess of Waterford at Curraghmore, County Waterford. Following this, he worked for an Irish baronet in Ballykilcavan, County Laois where he was in charge of several large greenhouses. Possibly due to an argument as rumours suggest, Robinson fled to England in 1861 where he found work at the Botanical Gardens of Regent’s Park.

Robinson specialised in native British wildflowers and was sponsored by Charles Darwin (1809-82), David Moore (1808-79) and James Veitch (1792-1863) to become a fellow of the Linnean Society, dedicated to natural history. Robinson left Regent’s Park in 1866 to write for The Gardener’s Chronicle and The Times, and in 1871 he established the gardening journal, The Garden. Contributors to The Garden included John Ruskin (1819-1900), William Morris (1834-96) and Gertrude Jekyll.

Through his magazines and subsequent books, Robinson challenged the traditions of gardening, introducing new ideas, such as the herbaceous border containing a mixture of plants, and the wild garden where sections were allowed to grow naturally without too much interference from the gardener. His concept of the English Flower Garden was influenced by simple cottage gardens once favoured by landscape artists.

“The gardener must follow the true artist, however modestly, in his respect for things as they are, in delight in natural form and beauty of flower and tree, if we are to be free from barren geometry, and if our gardens are ever to be true pictures….And as the artist’s work is to see for us and preserve in pictures some of the beauty of landscape, tree, or flower, so the gardener’s should be to keep for us as far as may be, in the fulness of their natural beauty, the living things themselves.”
– William Robinson, The English Flower Garden, 1883

Gertrude Jekyll (1843-1932)

Portrait of Jekyll by William Nicholson

Gertrude Jekyll was one of the most influential gardeners of the 20th century. Born in Mayfair, London, Jekyll studied as an artist and became associated with the Arts and Crafts Movement before moving on to designing interiors. In her 40s, she progressed to designing gardens.

Jekyll’s gardens were influenced by the artistic training she had received. She was particularly inspired by J.M.W. Turner (1775-1851), Impressionism and the use of colour. As well as designing over 400 gardens in Britain, Jekyll developed a colour theory, which she published in Colour Schemes for the Flower Garden and other works.

Edwin Lutyens (1869-1944), an English architect, partnered with Jekyll who designed the landscapes for his impressive buildings. Lutyens designed Munstead Wood, the house where Jekyll lived in Surrey; Jekyll, of course, created the garden.

Unfortunately, many of Jekyll’s gardens are now lost or destroyed, however, her fame lives on. In 1897, Jekyll won the Victoria Medal of Honour, which was followed by the Veitch Memorial Medal and George Robert White Medal of Honour in 1929. Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-94), a friend of the Jekyll family, used their surname in his famous novella Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde (1886).

Ellen Ann Willmott (1858-1934)

“My plants and my gardens come before anything in life for me, and all my time is given up to working in one garden or another, and when it is too dark to see the plants themselves, I read or write about them.”

In 1892, Ellen Ann Willmott inherited Warley Place at Great Warley in Essex on the death of her father Frederick Willmott. The 33 acres of land had become the family home when they moved there in 1875. When she was 21, Willmott was permitted by her father to plant an alpine garden, which included a gorge and rockery.

Willmott employed 104 male gardeners, insisting that “women would be a disaster in the border”, who helped her to grow more than 100,000 different plant species. Recognised for her efforts, Willmott was elected to the Royal Horticultural Society’s narcissus committee and received the Victoria Medal of Honour – a medal that only two women ever receive, the other being Gertrude Jekyll.

Ceratostigma willmottianum

Expeditions to China and the Middle East were financed by Willmott to bring exotic species to Warley Place. Willmott spent so much money on Warley that she died penniless. Warley Place was abandoned to the wild, although it is now managed by the Essex Wildlife Trust.

Ellen Ann Willmott is remembered by over 60 species of flowers, which have either been named after her or Warley Place. Examples include Rosa willottiae, Ceratostigma willmottianum and a species of sea holly nicknamed “Miss Willmott’s Ghost”.

Graham Stuart Thomas (1909-2003)

Graham Stuart Thomas

“Whether you look upon gardening as a hobby, a science or an art, the fundamental point returns again and again: that we garden because of the beauty of plants.”
– Graham Stuart Thomas, The Art of Planting, 1984

Graham Stuart Thomas declared he would become a gardener at the age of six when he was given a fuchsia as a gift. At seventeen, he joined the Cambridge Univerity Botanic Garden and then the Six Hills Nursery in Stevenage in 1930. The following year, he became the foreman at the nursery T. Hilling & Co (Hillings) in Surrey.

‘Graham Thomas’ Rose

Whilst working at Hillings, Thomas met Gertrude Jekyll who became his mentor. She taught him how to combine plants into colour patterns and inspired him to collect samples of roses. This led to several books: Old Shrub Roses (1955), Shrub Roses Of Today (1962) and Climbing Roses Old And New (1965).

Thomas began working with the National Trust at Hidcote Manor in Gloucestershire in 1948. He later worked at Sissinghurst Castle, Kent; Mount Stewart, Northern Ireland; Mottisfont Abbey, Hampshire; and Sezincote House, Gloucestershire.

Graham Stuart Thomas is remembered for his many books and a species of honeysuckle and rose have been named in his honour.

John Tradescant the Elder (1570s-1638)

John Tradescant the Elder was an English gardener and collector. Not much is known about his early life other than he began his career as head gardener to Robert Cecil (1563-1612), 1st Earl of Salisbury at Hatfield House, Hertfordshire. Following this, Tradescant worked for George Villiers (1592-1628), 1st Duke of Buckingham, remodelling his gardens at New Hall in Essex. Later, in 1630, Tradescant was made the Keeper of his Majesty’s Gardens, Vines, and Silkworms by King Charles I (1600-49).

Tradescant travelled to other countries and continents in search of seeds and bulbs. Places he visited include Arctic Russia (1618), the Levant (1620), the Low Countries (1610 and 1624), and France (1624). As well as looking for plants, Tradescant assembled a collection of curiosities of natural history, that he displayed in a large house known as “The Ark”, which later opened as a museum – the first-ever museum, in fact – to the public: the Musaeum Tradescantianum.

The Ark

The curiosities from “The Ark” are now housed in the Garden Museum, although they have no link to gardening. Tradescant intended the collection to be a representation of the nature, art, religions and ways of life of all nations on earth. Items include an alabaster figurine of St Fiacre, the patron saint of gardening; Roman coins; medallions; reindeer antlers; a cast of a dodo head; shells; and the vertebrae from the spine of a North Atlantic whale.

St Mary-at-Lambeth

A church has been on the same spot on the south bank of the Thames since before the Norman conquest. The crypt of the present building and some of the burials date back over 950 years. The church, whilst not the original, is a combination of medieval and Victorian architecture and is the oldest structure in the London Borough of Lambeth.

A stone tower, dating to 1377 although repaired in the 19th century, is still intact and accessible to visitors. One hundred and thirty-one stairs lead up to the roof of the tower, which provides an impressive view of London.

The churchyard was a place of burial until it was closed in 1854. An estimated 26,000 burials took place, although many were interred without tombs or monuments. As well as the Tradescant and Captain Bligh, notable names in the churchyard include Anne Boleyn’s mother Elizabeth (née Howard, c.1480-1538), Thomas Howard, 2nd Duke of Norfolk (1443-1524), Richard Bancroft (overseer of the production of the King James Bible, 1544-1610), and Frederick Cornwallis, Archbishop of Canterbury (1713-83).

The Garden Museum is open Monday – Sunday, 10:30 – 17:00. Tickets are £10, although some concessions are available. The entrance fee includes both the museum and the tower. A tower only ticket is available for £3. More information is available on their website: www.gardenmuseum.org.uk

Meet Vincent Van Gogh

After captivating audiences in Beijing, Barcelona and Seoul, the official Meet Vincent van Gogh Experience has arrived in London. When Vincent van Gogh died in 1890, not only did he leave behind a great number of paintings and drawings, his voice was captured in hundreds of letters to his brother and other friends and acquaintances. Using the wealth of information in these correspondences, the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam has designed an exhibition through which the artist speaks directly to the visitor. An audio guide tells Van Gogh’s story, reading directly from many of his letters in order to teach visitors everything they need to know about one of the most celebrated artists in the world.

Please do touch! Nothing is off-limits in this experience, there are no ropes separating visitors from exhibits. Large recreations and 3D prints of Van Gogh’s works allow people to see and feel the texture of the paint. Reproductions of tools and materials help to demonstrate the artist’s method and technique, and interactive stations throughout the experience encourage visitors to create their own art, using the words of Van Gogh as their guide.

Unlike art galleries where everything is neatly hung on walls, the Van Gogh Experience uses digital projections, props, and videos to make it feel as though one is walking directly into a Van Gogh painting. The breaking down of traditional boundaries lets visitors pull up a chair at the Potato Eater’s table, sit on a haystack, stand beside the Yellow House and enter Van Gogh’s recognisable bedroom.

As you progress through the exhibition, the scenes change, revealing key turning points in Vincent’s life. With his disembodied voice in their ears, visitors accompany the artist from Nuenen in the Netherlands to Paris, Arles, Saint-Rémy and Auvers-sur-Oise in France. Engaging with the sets provides the opportunity to feel as though you are seeing the world and his paintings through Van Gogh’s eyes.

Vincent Willem van Gogh was born on 30th March 1853 in Zundert, Netherlands. He was the first surviving child of the Dutch Reformed Church minister Theodorus van Gogh (1822-85) and Anna Cornelia van Gogh-Carbentus (1819-1907), born exactly a year after a still-born brother. Vincent had many siblings: Anna (1855-1930), Theo (1857-91), Lies (1859-1936), Willemien (1862-1941) and Cor (1867-1900); however, it was with Theo that Vincent had the strongest relationship.

At least 902 letters of Van Gogh still exist, 819 of which he sent and 83 he received. Vincent burnt the majority of correspondence he received since it was impossible to keep them all; Theo, on the other hand, did not like to throw things away and managed to save 658 letters from his brother. Twenty-one letters to his sister Wil (Willemien) also exist, however, there appear to be none addressed to his other siblings.

Vincent was initially taught at home by his mother and a governess before joining the village school in 1860. In 1864, however, he was sent away to boarding school where he felt abandoned and deeply unhappy. Eventually, he returned home and his uncle obtained him a position at the art dealers Goupil & Cie in The Hague. After completing his training in 1873, Vincent was sent to Goupil’s London branch where he began earning more money than his father. In retrospect, it is believed this was the best year of Van Gogh’s life.

The earliest dated letter from Vincent to Theo was sent in September 1872 in which he begins to confide in his brother, telling him about the things he has seen or read. “You must write to me in particular about what kind of paintings you see and what you find beautiful.” (January 1873) The letters continued during Vincent’s time in London where he regularly visited museums. “English art didn’t appeal to me much at first, one has to get used to it.” (January 1874)

Theo began working with Goupil & Cie three years after his brother, which made their relationship even stronger. Vincent’s letters, however, had become rather gloomy, often writing about a “quiet melancholy”. This may have been triggered by the rejection of Eugénie Loyer who he had confessed his love to whilst living in London. Vincent began to isolate himself and became religiously fervent, adopting the words “sorrowful, yet always rejoicing” (2 Corinthians 6:10) as his motto.

Van Gogh’s father and uncle arranged for him to be transferred to Goupil’s Paris branch, however, due to Vincent’s poor attitude, he was dismissed in 1876. Over the next few years, Vincent explored a variety of career possibilities, including returning to England to work as an unpaid supply teacher in Ramsgate. This proved unsuccessful, so he returned home where he worked at a bookshop in Dordrecht. This also proved futile and Vincent spent hours doodling or reading the Bible.

Even though Van Gogh’s father was a minister, he thought his son’s religious passion was excessive. Nonetheless, to support Vincent’s new-found desire to become a pastor, his father sent him to live with his uncle and theologian Johannes Stricker (1816-86). Unfortunately, Vincent failed the entrance exam for the University of Amsterdam, nor did he pass the three-month course at a Protestant missionary school in Laken, Belgium.

Undeterred, in 1879 Vincent took up a missionary post in the coal-mining district of Borinage in Belgium. Up until this point, his letters to Theo had contained passages or references to the Bible, however, his experience of the squalid living conditions made him turn his back on religion. Feeling that he had no career prospects and nowhere to go, Vincent returned home.

After a few months living with his parents and a brief spell in a lunatic asylum – presumably for depression, Vincent returned to Borinage where he temporarily lodged with a miner. A letter written to Theo at the time suggests Vincent had stopped writing to him during his difficult period. “My dear Theo, It’s with some reluctance that I write to you, not having done so for so long … Up to a certain point you’ve become a stranger to me, and I too am one to you, perhaps more than you think…” (August 1880)

Whilst living in Borinage, Van Gogh became interested in the people and scenes around him, producing quick sketches, which he sent to Theo. His letters became both a means of communicating and a way of documenting his ideas. Encouraged by his brother’s new way of expressing himself, Theo encouraged Vincent to take up art in earnest. Van Gogh followed Theo’s recommendation, eventually registering at the Académie Royale des Beaux-Arts. Vincent’s early sketches in Borinage proved to be more than a desire to draw but also the inspiration for Van Gogh’s first major work, The Potato Eaters.

The Potato Eaters (De Aardappeleters)

Five Persons at a Meal

By the end of 1883, loneliness or, perhaps, poverty had driven Van Gogh to move in with his parents, who were then living in the Dutch town of Nuenen. During his two year stay, Vincent completed many drawings, watercolours and oil paintings of the local weavers and cottages. Unlike the vivid colours of his later work, Vincent worked in sombre earth tones to capture the true nature of the scenes.

The colours inadvertently reflect the events in Van Gogh’s life during the period he stayed with his parents. In August 1884, the neighbour’s daughter Margot Begemann fell in love with Vincent and he, reluctantly at first, developed a strong relationship with her. They both wished to marry but their families were strongly against the proposal. Upset, Margot swallowed rat poison and was rushed to hospital where she was lucky to survive. Unfortunately, Vincent received another blow not long after this incident on 26th March 1885 when his father died.

Nonetheless, Van Gogh continued with his drawings and paintings then, the same year, Theo wrote to him asking if any of his paintings were ready to exhibit. Vincent replied that he had been working on a “series of peasant studies” and submitted his first major work, The Potato Eaters. This was a culmination of several years work, taking inspiration from the people in Nuenen, who often sat for him, as well as his experience in Borinage.

“You see, I really have wanted to make it so that people get the idea that these folk, who are eating their potatoes by the light of their little lamp, have tilled the earth themselves with these hands they are putting in the dish, and so it speaks of manual labour and—that they have thus honestly earned their food. I wanted it to give the idea of a wholly different way of life from ours—civilized people.”
– Vincent to Theo (30th April 1885)

Two years later, Van Gogh considered The Potato Eaters to be “the best thing I did”, which he confessed in a letter to his sister Wil. Critics, on the other hand, were less inclined to agree, including Vincent’s friend and fellow artist Anthon van Rappard (1858-92). Initially, Vincent was angry with Rappard’s criticism and told him that he “had no right to condemn my work in the way you did” (July 1885). A month later, with his confidence in tatters, Vincent tried to defend his efforts, writing “I am always doing what I can’t do yet in order to learn how to do it.”

In November 1885, Van Gogh spent a brief time living in a room above a paint dealer’s shop in Antwerp. Although Theo supported him financially, Vincent chose to spend the money on painting materials rather than food. He also bought Japanese ukiyo-e woodcuts, which he studied and copied, incorporating some elements into his paintings. He also broadened his palette, beginning to paint in reds, blues and greens.

“My studio’s quite tolerable, mainly because I’ve pinned a set of Japanese prints on the walls that I find very diverting. You know, those little female figures in gardens or on the shore, horsemen, flowers, gnarled thorn branches.”
– Vincent to Theo (28th November 1885)

Portrait of Vincent van Gogh – Toulouse-Lautrec

Due to living in poverty and eating poorly, Van Gogh was hospitalised between February and March 1886, after which he moved to Paris where he lived with Theo. Since they were living together, there was no point in writing to each other, therefore, not a lot is known about Vincent’s time in Paris.

Other sources of information reveal Vincent spent time in the Louvre, examining paintings, colour schemes and artists’ techniques. Through Theo, he met up-and-coming artists, such as Émile Bernard (1868-1941) and Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (1864-1901).

Theo found living with Vincent almost unbearable and, although they remained firm friends and brothers, Vincent moved in 1887 to Asnières in the northwest of Paris. Here, Vincent met Paul Signac (1863-1935), a neo-impressionist painter who helped develope the Pointillist style. Inspired by Signac, Vincent began to include aspects of pointillism in his paintings.

The Yellow House, 1888

Starry Night over the Rhône, 1888

Vase with Fifteen Sunflowers, 1888

Van Gogh’s artistic breakthrough occurred after he had moved to Arles in the south of France in an attempt to recuperate from his smoking problem and smoker’s cough. It is believed he had the intention of founding an art colony, however, this never came to fruition. Nonetheless, existing letters reveal Vincent was in contact with several artists at the time, including Bernard, Charles Laval (1862-94) and Paul Gauguin (1848-1903).

During his year in Arles, Van Gogh produced over 200 paintings and 100 drawings, the majority of which were intended for the decoration of the Yellow House – a personal gallery of his work. When Vincent first arrived in Arles, he signed a lease for the eastern wing of the Yellow House at 2 Place Lamartine, however, it was not yet fully furnished so he was only able to use it as a studio. Meanwhile, he resided at the Hôtel Carrel and the Café de la Gare.

The Night Café, 1888

“I want to do figures, figures and figures … Meanwhile, I mostly do other things.” Van Gogh desired to paint portraits and, whilst he painted a few, he mostly produced landscapes. Inspired by the local harvests, wheatfields and landmarks, Vincent painted Arles in yellow, ultramarine and mauve. The wheat fields were a common feature in his landscapes, however, Vincent also painted his house, sunflowers, fishing boats and the Café de la Gare. Writing about one of his paintings of the latter entitled The Night Café, Van Gogh revealed he was trying to “to express the idea that the café is a place where one can ruin oneself, go mad, or commit a crime”.

Bedroom in Arles, 1888

Once the Yellow House was suitable to live in, Van Gogh began displaying some of his paintings on the walls as can be seen in his depiction of his bedroom: Bedroom in Arles. When planning this painting, Vincent wrote to his brother that “colour must be abundant in this part, its simplification adding a rank of grandee to the style applied to the objects, getting to suggest a certain rest or dream.” The walls are a pale violet and the wooden furniture is “yellow like fresh butter”. On the bed, a scarlet bedspread lies on top of a “lemon light green” sheet and pillows. The windows are shuttered and the blue doors closed, one which led to a staircase and the other a guest bedroom.

Van Gogh’s Chair, 1888

Paul Gauguin’s Armchair, 1888

The guest room was used by Paul Gauguin when he agreed to visit Van Gogh in Arles. While waiting for him to arrive, Vincent frantically worked on paintings to decorate the house, including more sunflowers, a painting of his chair and a painting of the chair he had purchased in anticipation of Gauguin’s visit.

The Painter of Sunflowers by Paul Gauguin, 1888

Gauguin eventually arrived on 23rd October and the artists settled into a routine of sleeping and painting in the Yellow House. Noticing that Van Gogh always used visual references, Gauguin encouraged Vincent to paint from memory. They also went on outdoor ventures to paint en plein air, however, the only painting Gauguin completed in Van Gogh’s studio was The Painter of Sunflowers, a portrait of Van Gogh.

Van Gogh had hoped for friendship with Gauguin, however, after two months the relationship began to deteriorate. Vincent admired Gauguin and wished to be treated as his equal, however, Gauguin was rather arrogant and full of criticism, which was frustrating for Vincent and led to many quarrels. Every day, Vincent feared Gauguin would leave him, describing the situation as one of “excessive tension”. Eventually, Vincent’s fear became a reality.

It is difficult to determine exactly what happened next because Van Gogh had no recollection of the events. Gauguin claimed they had been cooped up in the house due to several days of heavy rain, which led to much bickering culminating in a huge argument. To cool off, Gauguin left the house to go for a walk, however, Vincent, presumably mistaking this action for abandonment, “rushed towards me, an open razor in his hand”. That night, Gauguin stayed in a hotel rather than returning to the Yellow House.

Self-portrait with Bandaged Ear, 1889

Alone in the house, Van Gogh was plagued by “voices” and cut off his left ear with the razor. Whether this was wholly or partially is now unknown since there are discrepancies between the sources from the time of the incident. Van Gogh bandaged his heavily bleeding wound, wrapped the ear in paper and delivered it to a woman at a brothel he and Gauguin frequented. Vincent was discovered unconscious by a policeman the following morning, who took him to the local hospital.

Van Gogh was diagnosed with “acute mania with generalised delirium” and remained in the hospital for some time. Although Gauguin had returned to Paris, the artists put the event to one side and continued to correspond through letters. They proposed to form a studio in Antwerp when Van Gogh was well but they never had the chance.

On 7th January 1889, Van Gogh returned to the Yellow House, however, he was still suffering from hallucinations. Some sources claim Vincent tried to poison himself, whereas others say this was one of his delusions; nonetheless, concerned for his welfare, inhabitants of Arles demanded that he was forcibly removed from the house. Vincent found himself back in the hospital, eventually agreeing to voluntarily admit himself to the asylum in Saint-Rémy-de-Provence.

Corridor in Saint-Paul Hospital, 1889

The Starry Night, 1889

Vase with Irises Against a Yellow Background, 1890

Van Gogh stayed in the asylum for about a year, during which time he was allowed to paint. The clinic and its gardens were Vincent’s primary sources of inspiration as were patients and doctors. The Starry Night, one of Van Gogh’s most famous works, was painted in the hospital grounds.

Letters continued to be sent back and forth between Theo and Vincent as well as a few friends. Since there was a limited amount of artistic inspiration in the hospital, Theo sent his brother prints of famous artworks from which to copy. Some of Vincent’s favourite artists to study included Jean-François Millet (1814-75), Jules Breton (1827-1906), Gustave Courbet (1819-77) and Gustave Doré (1832-83).

Prisoners’ Round (after Gustave Doré), 1890

Two Peasant Women Digging in a Snow-Covered Field at Sunset, (after Jean-François Millet), 1890

Van Gogh’s letters to his brother became increasingly sombre and he suffered a relapse between February and April 1890. During this time, he felt unable to write, however, there are a few small paintings dated around this time. Two Peasant Women Digging in a Snow-Covered Field at Sunset was one of these, based on an artwork by Millet.

Meanwhile, Van Gogh’s paintings were beginning to attract attention and he was invited to submit some of his paintings to an avant-garde exhibition in Paris. Whilst some people were critical of his work, others defended Van Gogh’s style and he was soon invited to participate in an exhibition with the Artistes Indépendants in Paris. Claude Monet (1840-1926) declared Van Gogh’s work was the best in the show.

Almond blossom, 1890

It was not the success of the exhibition that buoyed Van Gogh’s motivation to write and paint again but rather the news from Theo that his wife Jo (1862-1925) had born a son, Vincent Willem van Gogh. “How glad I was when the news came… I should have greatly preferred him to call the boy after Father, of whom I have been thinking so much these days, instead of after me; but seeing it has now been done, I started right away to make a picture for him, to hang in their bedroom, big branches of white almond blossom against a blue sky.”

Almond Blossom is unlike any of Van Gogh’s previous paintings. The blue sky is more realistic than the swirly backgrounds of his recent works. The branches of the tree are outlined in black, which was a feature Van Gogh admired in Japanese paintings.

Wheatfield with Crows, 1890

By May 1890, Van Gogh was deemed well enough to be discharged from Saint-Rémy, however, he had no home to which to return. Instead, he moved to the Paris suburb of Auvers-sur-Oise to be closer to both Theo and his doctor, Dr Paul Gachet (1828-1909). Van Gogh continued painting, absorbed by “the immense plain against the hills, boundless as the sea, delicate yellow” and “vast fields of wheat under turbulent skies”. When writing to Theo about one of his final oil paintings, Van Gogh said that they represented “sadness and extreme loneliness” and “tell you what I cannot say in words”.

On 27th July 1890, Van Gogh failed to return to his lodgings for his evening meal. His arrival later in the night revealed the reason for the delay; Vincent had shot himself in the chest with a 7mm Lefaucheux à broche revolver. Although there was no damage to any vital organs, there was no surgeon in the area to remove the bullet. Two local doctors did the best they could and left him at home where he was joined by Theo. Vincent was in good spirits but soon began to suffer from an infection. Not long after his final words, “The sadness will last forever”, Vincent van Gogh passed away in the early hours of 29th July.

“… and then it was done. I miss him so; everything seems to remind me of him.”
– Theo to his wife Jo, 1st August 1890

Van Gogh was buried the next day in the municipal cemetery of Auvers-sur-Oise and was joined by Theo the following year. Theo had been ill and worsened after the death of his brother. Initially, Theo was buried in Utrecht, however, his wife had his body exhumed and reburied beside his beloved brother. Jo knew how much Vincent meant to Theo and it is thanks to her that Vincent’s letters have been preserved and made public. Although other family members were unhappy about this, without the letters Vincent may never have been as celebrated as he is today.

Head of the Dead Casagemas – Picasso, 1901

Homage to Van Gogh – David Hockney, 1988

Red Virginia Creeper – Edvard Munch, 1900

Van Gogh’s story does not end with his death but continues through the lives of millions of people around the world for whom he is still a source of inspiration. Well-known artists have been influenced by Van Gogh, including Pablo Picasso, David Hockney, Piet Mondrian, Henri Matisse, Edvard Munch and Francis Bacon.

Contemporary artists are also fans of Van Gogh and attempt to recreate his style, for example, a Van Gogh-esque painting of Donald Duck that appeared on a Walt Disney magazine in 2015.

The Meet Vincent Van Gogh Experience proves how much Vincent van Gogh is loved and appreciated. His life was full of mental anguish and unhappiness, which ended prematurely before he had the chance to witness his success. His tragic story is part of the draw to the artist, however, Van Gogh’s highly recognisable works are appreciated all over the world for their uniqueness.

With a museum named after him, Van Gogh has excelled beyond his expectations and it is a shame that he will never know. The Meet Vincent van Gogh Experience allows people to learn more about the artist, to discover his story, and to appreciate his work with a greater understanding.

Tickets for the Meet Vincent van Gogh Experience vary between £16.50 and £18.50 for adults, and £12.50 and £14.50 for children. Time slots and tickets can be purchased via Ticketmaster in advance. The experience will be open every day until Thursday 21st May 2020.

Ever yours,
Vincent

Dora Maar

The Weeping Woman – Picasso

Dora Maar, also known as Picasso’s “Weeping Woman”, is mostly remembered for being the surrealist artist’s muse and lover. This year, Tate Modern has put together the most comprehensive retrospective of Dora Maar ever held, allowing her to be seen as a photographer and artist in her own right. The exhibition explores the breadth of Maar’s career, encompassing commercial photography, documentary projects and painting.

Dora Maar was born Henriette Theodora Markovitch in Paris on 22nd November 1907, although she was mostly known as Dora. Her father Joseph Markovitch (1874–1969) was an architect from Croatia but settled in Paris with his French wife Louise-Julie Voisin (1877–1942) in 1896. From 1910, Maar’s early life was mostly spent in Buenos Aires, Argentina where her father had obtained a commission from the Austria-Hungary Embassy. Although his work did not make him particularly wealthy, his achievements were recognised by Emperor Francis Joseph I (1830-1916).

The Markovitch family returned to Paris in 1926 where Dora enrolled at the Central Union of Decorative Arts. She also attended the newly opened l’Ecole Nationale de la Cinématographie et la Photographie (School of Photography). Following this, she enrolled at the École des Beaux-Artes and the Académie Julian. Whilst she trained in both fine art and photography, she decided photography was the way forward because it provided greater stability than painting in the commercial world.

In 1930, Dora met the Hungarian-French photographer Brassaï (1899-1984) with whom she began sharing a darkroom. Gyula Halász, who went by the pseudonym Brassaï, was an internationally known photographer between the two world wars who also worked as a sculptor, medalist, writer and filmmaker. He photographed many of his friends, who included the artists Salvador Dalí, Pablo Picasso, Henri Matisse and Alberto Giacometti.

Untitled (Fashion Photograph, Evening Gown by Jacques Heim for Madame Jacques Heim)

Dora also worked with Harry Osip Meerson (1911-91), a Polish-born French fashion photographer and, during 1930, she set up a photography studio with Pierre Kéfer on the Rue Campagne-Première on the outskirts of Paris. Kéfer had been a decorator and set designer for Jean Epstein’s (1897-1953) film The Fall of the House of Usher (1928), however, the studio mainly focused on photography for advertisements and fashion magazines. Dora called working with Kéfer her “worldly period” because it introduced her to many glamorous clientele.

Mont Saint Michel, Cloister, Southern Gallery

Dora’s first significant commission was for Germain Bazin (1901-90), an art historian, who wanted photographs to illustrate his manuscript about a monastery on Mont Saint Michel island in Normandy. Seventy-two photos were needed in total, of which Dora supplied thirty-seven. Unfortunately, she was only credited for six.

It was around this time that Dora decided to officially change her public name, declaring in a 1932 bulletin that Henriette Markovitch, “artist-painter”, had transformed into Dora Maar, photographer. Many of the studio’s photographs were signed “Kéfer-Dora-Maar”, however, Dora was usually the sole author.

Kéfer-Dora-Maar’s first fashion photography commission was for Jacques Heim (1899-1967) who ran a maison de couture. Maar’s job was to photograph Heim’s latest clothing designs for the fashion house’s magazine. This was Maar’s first taste of haute couture, which led to commissions from other fashion designers, such as Coco Chanel (1883-1971), Jeanne Lanvin (1867-1946) and Elsa Schiaparelli (1890-1973). Maar continued to work with Heim during the 1950s, producing textile designs and logos rather than photographs.

The Years Lie in Wait for You

Kéfer-Dora-Maar dissolved in 1935 and Maar established her own studio in central Paris where she took on independent commissions. It was around this time that her style of work also began to change, becoming more experimental, for instance, using scissors and glue to turn her photographs into collages. Maar also produced photomontages, which involved sandwiching two negatives together and printing them as one image. An example of this is The Years Lie in Wait for You, published in 1935 as an advertisement for an anti-ageing cream. The image is made up of a photograph of a spider’s web and a close-up of Maar’s friend Nusch Éluard (1906-45). Eluard, who was born Maria Benz, was a stage performer who regularly modelled for surrealist artists.

Assia

Another model both Maar and other artists used was Assia Granatouroff (1911-82). Born in Ukraine, Granatouroff moved to France at a young age and trained to be a textile designer. In her early twenties, she decided to become a film actress but needed money to pay for acting classes. By modelling, often for nudes, Granatouroff managed to scrape together the necessary funds. Maar’s photographs of Grantouroff experimented with lighting and angles and re-imagined the classical depiction of the nude. Many of the photographs were circulated in art publications and erotic magazines.

Headstand, Barcelona

Beggar woman, Barcelona

Maar did not spend all her time working in a studio. Following the Wall Street Crash of 1929 in the United States, Europe was subjected to the worst economic depression of modern times. Maar and her peers wished to document the devastating effects of the crisis throughout Europe and, without being commissioned, she travelled to the Costa Brava in Catalonia, followed by Barcelona.

Maar explored the city, documenting both the landscape and the people she saw. None of her photographs were staged, instead, they were captured quickly on her Rolleiflex camera. This camera was portable and could be held at waist height, allowing the photographer to take rapid, spur-of-the-moment photographs.

In Barcelona, Maar saw a mix of scenes that revealed some of the worst-off areas. Photographs include a beggar woman, a blind street pedlar and a group of blind musicians, all of whom were trying to earn money in order to survive. On the other hand, Maar captured shots of children playing and someone doing a handstand on the beach, which suggests that not everything was doom and gloom.

Girl in doorway

The Grimace

Back in Paris, Maar continued to document the effects of the economic depression, particularly in the area known as “La Zone”. In 1844, a 3-4 kilometre strip of land in the 13th arrondissement of Paris was transformed into a military defence zone. By the 1930s, it was no longer needed and poor communities began to move into the disused buildings. Eventually, around 40,000 people were living there, although they were forcibly moved before the beginning of the Second World War.

Maar captured the life in “La Zone”, showing dilapidated buildings, working men and women, and children. These photographs contrasted with others she took in the city, which revealed well-dressed people going about their everyday lives.

Pearly King Collecting Money for the Empire Day

Repent for the kingdom of heaven is at hand, London

Disabled war veteran begging beside miniature tin boat, London

In February 1934, Maar visited London where she documented various locations in the City of London and the East End. The photographs were included in an exhibition at Galeries Van den Berghe in Paris under the name of Kéfer-Dora-Maar, however, Maar was the sole photographer.

The photographs taken in London continued to reveal the state of lives during the economic depression. War veterans begging on the street, Lottery Ticket dealers and ragpickers were competing for customers to earn a wage. A man with a placard stating, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand” (Matthew 3:2) suggests that some people believed the social and economic situation in Europe was God-driven.

To try to assist traders who had fallen on hard times, “Coster Kings and Queens” were elected to collect money on the streets. This evolved into the tradition of Pearly Kings and Queens, which continues today. Maar photographed one Pearly King collecting money for Empire Air Day, an annual air show held at Royal Air Force stations across Britain. “The idea of Empire Air Day is that the public should be enabled to see the Royal Air Force at its everyday work.” (Anthony Muirhead MP) Maar’s photograph shows the Pearly King dressed in imitation 20th-century high society fashion, decorated with pearly beads.

Affected by what she had seen in Barcelona, London and Paris, Maar signed her name on the Appel à la lutte (Call to the Struggle) manifesto by the surrealist poet André Breton (1896-1966) and screenwriter Louis Chavance (1907-79). The manifesto had been written as a response to political riots by the extreme far-right and, at the time, Maar considered herself to be on the far-left. Maar was also inspired to join Breton’s anti-fascist movement Contre-Attaque, which he led with the philosopher Georges Bataille (1897-1962). Alongside this, she attended and documented the rehearsals and performances of the leftist theatre troupe Groupe Octobre.

After the Rain

Musical instrument shop window with re ection of the Saint-Nicolas-des-Champs Church, Paris

Man looking inside a pavement inspection door, London

Kangaroo, London

Carousel at night

By associating herself with the political side of surrealism, Maar began to adopt the movement in her photography. The Surrealist Movement, which was predominantly led by Breton and Paul Éluard aimed to transform the art world, refusing to conform to constrictions put in place by modern society. Surrealism embraced the power of the unconscious mind, creating impossible, dreamlike imagery that were far from reality.

At first, it was not certain how photography could benefit the Surrealist Movement, therefore, Maar continued to photograph scenes around the city. Her way of thinking, however, had been changed and she began to seek out the stranger areas of historic cities. Whilst in London, Maar photographed a man looking inside a pavement inspection door, which was not a usual sight to see. She also came across a wire sculpture of a kangaroo on the pavement.

During this period, Maar became more experimental with the way she took photographs. Her documentary photography produced quick snapshots of city life, however, by focusing on dramatic angles and cropping the image, Maar was able to construct a more disorienting perspective. Gradually, Maar’s photographs leant more and more towards surrealism.

Portrait of Ubu

Hand-Shell

Danger

Cavalier

Alongside Man Ray (1890-1976), Raoul Ubac (1910-85) and Hans Bellmer (1902-75), Maar became one of the few photographers to be included in surrealist exhibitions. She continued to photograph objects from interesting angles, which distorted their appearance. This method resulted in Portrait of Ubu, which was named after Alfred Jarry’s (1873-1907) absurdist play Ubu Roi (King Ubu, 1895). The subject matter has yet to be identified, although the most popular suggestion is an armadillo foetus. Talking about the photo in 1994, Maar said, “It’s a real animal, but I don’t want to say which one, because it would strip it of its mystery.”

To add to the surrealist effects of her photography, Maar returned to the method of photomontage, cutting and pasting together two or more photographs to make a new image. Maar took elements from her own photographs and those of other photographers, as well as images from 20th-century publications. Rather than leaving the result in a collage format, Maar photographed the cutouts to create a seamless image. Hand-shell, for example, was produced by combining a couple of photographs to make it appear as though a hand was protruding from a shell.

Pablo Picasso on the beach of Juan-les-Pins

The Conversation

Portrait of Pablo Picasso

Dora Maar reached the height of her career in the winter of 1935-6 when she met Pablo Picasso (1881-1973). Picasso, on the other hand, was at the worst time of his life, having not produced any artwork for several months. Their first meeting took place on the set of Jean Renoir’s film The Crime of Monsieur Lange where Maar was taking promotional photographs. On this occasion, Maar and Picasso may not have spoken, however, they were formally introduced a few days later by their mutual friend Paul Éluard.

Between 1936 and 1938, Maar and Picasso spent the summers in the South of France with various friends, where Maar took photographs of Picasso on the beach. Back in Paris, Maar invited Picasso to her studio to photograph his portrait and, in return, allowed him to paint her, which he did many times throughout their decade long relationship.

Picasso encouraged Maar to paint alongside her photography career. Adopting his style, Maar produced a portrait of Picasso, displacing the facial features and adding elements of cubism. Viewers could be forgiven for mistaking many of Maar’s works as Picasso’s since she often replicated his methods.

The Conversation, painted in 1937, addresses Maar’s feelings about Picasso’s ongoing relationship with Marie-Thérèse Walter (1909-77) with whom he had a daughter Maya. Despite openly being a couple with Maar, Picasso refused to break off his relationship with Walter and made them both fight for his love. It is also known that Picasso physically abused Maar and used her as a living depiction of pain and suffering in his portraits.

In 1937, Picasso was commissioned by the Spanish Republican government to create a mural for the Spanish pavilion at the 1937 Paris World’s Fair. Initially, he spent a few months half-heartedly painting in his studio, however, after the bombing of Guernica on 26th April, he was inspired to make the violence and chaos of that event of the Spanish Civil War the subject of the painting.

From 11th May to 4th June, Maar documented Picasso’ progress through photographs as he tackled the large canvas in his studio. The photographs were commissioned by the art journal Cahiers d’art who wanted to “preserve the metamorphosis of a picture”. It has been suggested Maar’s presence in the studio may have influenced the artwork. Picasso included the silhouette of an electric light, which historians have speculated was inspired by the light Maar used to illuminate the canvas for her photographs.

In an interview recorded in 1990, Maar revealed that she had helped paint small parts of Guernica so that there would be significant progress in her next photograph. She also revealed one of the female figures in the composition was intended to be her.

Not long after Guernica was completed, Picasso painted Maar as the Weeping Woman. He produced over thirty studies of Maar in this guise but Maar believed it was never intended to be a portrait. It was her belief that it was another of Picasso’s metaphors for the suffering during the Spanish War.

Self-Portrait

Still Life

La Grand Range

In 1942, Maar bought a new studio in Paris where she focused on painting rather than photography. Picasso continued to encourage her to paint in the cubist style, which is evident in some of her still life paintings. Some of her still lifes were exhibited at Galerie Jeanne Bucher, Paris in 1944. As their relationship began to break down, however, Maar’s artwork began to take a new direction. Inspired by the river Seine, which was a stone’s throw from her home, she began to focus on landscapes.

Life during the early 1940s was not kind to Maar. Firstly, she was subjected to an abusive relationship, which coincided with her father returning to Argentina. After Maar left Picasso, she had to face the sudden deaths of her mother and close friend, Nusch Éluard. It is no wonder she spent some time in Saint Mandé, a psychiatric hospital, presumably being treated for depression. Fortunately, she was able to recover and focus on her painting, including a self-portrait that she gave to Doctor Baron, a specialist in neuro-ophthalmology.

“These landscapes, the result of [Maar’s] recent change of style, are marked by a sensitive and very individual talent … vastness, loneliness and, above all, their sense of place.”
– John Russell, The Times

Maar’s change in artistic style was noticed by art critics at the London Leicester Galleries in 1958. Whilst they are landscapes made up of washes of paint, critics remarked on the sense of isolation and overwhelming vastness, which indicated Maar’s feelings of loneliness and unhappiness after the loss of her lover, her parents and her friends.

Nonetheless, Maar was able to work through her negative feelings and continued producing art. During the latter 1940s, Maar spent half her time in Paris and the other half in Ménerbes in the south of France. She developed a friendship with the French poet André du Bouchet (1924-2001) who offered her the opportunity to collaborate on some work. In 1956, Maar supplied a set of engravings for his anthology Mountain Soil, which involved developing a new technique and art style.

At heart, Maar was always a photographer, however, she lost interest in documenting the outside world. She no longer found exploring the city streets interesting and preferred to stay within the shadows of her darkroom. By the 1980s, Maar was virtually cameraless, having discovered the excitement of producing photograms. This involved laying household objects onto photo-sensitive paper, which when exposed to the light, left the covered sections white. Where the light directly hit the paper, it darkened.

Dora Maar continued working until her death on 16th July 1997 at the age of 89. She spent her final years living in an apartment in Rue de Savoie in Paris. Maar was never famous for her paintings during her lifetime and it has only been since her death that they have been studied in more detail. Whilst she is known better as a photographer, she is still predominantly regarded as the mistress of Picasso. Their relationship only lasted a decade but it has overshadowed her entire career. Hopefully, exhibitions such as this one at Tate Modern will allow her to be appreciated as an artist.

Dora Maar is on display at Tate Modern until 15th March 2020. Tickets cost £13 for adults and £5 for teens. Under 12s may visit for free, although some exhibits contain nudity.

Accelerating the Modern World

The 130-year history of the car may be comparatively short to other inventions, however, it has dramatically influenced and changed the world. Bringing together fifteen cars of the last century or so, the Victoria and Albert Museum tells the story of the design and impact of the car from the very first to a concept flying car of the near future. Whilst some of the cars are recognisable, it is the first time many of them have been on display in the United Kingdom, making the exhibition Cars: Accelerating the Modern World a must-see for car enthusiasts.

Benz Patent-Motorwagen No. 3

The world’s first practical car is generally considered to be the Patent-Motorwagen created in 1886 by Karl Benz (1844-1929). The first version was designed shortly after Benz successfully developed a petrol-powered two-stroked piston engine in 1873. The engine was mounted at the rear of a three-wheeled automobile that was steered by way of a rack and pinion mechanism. The body of the vehicle was made from steel tubing with wooden panels and spoked wheels. Later versions allowed room for passengers, however, it never went very fast, approximately 10 miles per hour at the most.

To publicise the new invention, Benz’s wife Bertha (1849-1944), whose dowry financed the enterprise, took the Patent-Motorwagen No. 3 for its first cross-country drive, covering around 60 miles. Although it was slow, Bertha proved its practicalness, however, there were a few issues. On more than one occasion, Bertha had to clean the carburettor with her hat pin and the brakes quickly wore down. Nonetheless, the seed was sown and many were already dreaming of faster cars and the potential idea of car racing.

By 1905, cars were already able to reach speeds of 100 mph and races were being held throughout the world to find the fastest drivers. Many of the early speed races took place on the sandy beaches of Florida between Ormond and Daytona Beach. As a result, the area has been nicknamed “the birthplace of speed”. One of the first drivers to go over 100 mph was Arthur MacDonald who reached 104.65 mph in a Napier 6 on 24th January 1905, winning him the Thomas Trophy.

In Europe, drivers competed for the Gordon Bennett Cup for automobile racing established by James Gordon Bennett Jr. (1841-1918), the publisher of the New York Herald. The phrase “Gordon Bennett”, which signifies exasperation or shock derives from the same man. The trophy was awarded in 1900 until 1905 when the French Grand Prix was established. The first Grand Prix was held in 1906 and today’s Formula One World Championships is a direct descendent.

The Irving-Napier Golden Arrow

Back at Daytona Beach, races were still being held on the sand including a race in March 1929 that saw the world land-speed record broken at 231.45 mph. Known as the Golden Arrow, the Irving-Napier car was designed by the British automobile engineer John Samuel Irving (1880-1953) in an attempt to take back the speed record from the Americans, which it achieved by 24 mph.

The Golden Arrow, which was driven by Major Henry Segrave (1896-1930), was designed to go much faster with a streamlined body and pointed nose. The record was achieved on the very first drive, however, Segrave wanted to drive again in the belief it could go much faster. Unfortunately, he never got the chance to prove its potential because the beach was closed later that day after a fatal crash of an American driver. Segrave was killed the following year whilst attempting to set a water speed record and the Golden Arrow, which now lives at the National Motor Museum, Beaulieu, was never driven again.

Delahaye 145

Despite having invented the Grand Prix, the French were dismayed that the majority of the winners drove German cars such as Mercedes-Benz. Determined to win the title, the French government encouraged local manufacturers to build a car fast enough to beat their German rivals at the Grand Prix. With an incentive of a million franc prize, Delahaye automobile constructed the Type 145, which was painted blue with a red and white victory stripe. At the 1938 Grand Prix in Pau, Southwest France, the French racing driver René Dreyfus (1905-93) drove the Delahaye Type 145 to victory.

Tatra 77

As the races got more competitive, car manufacturers began to realise the vehicles designed according to the principles of streamlining performed better than those that were not. Hungarian-born Paul Jarau (1889-1974) was one of the designers in the 1920s who argued streamlining would enhance the performance of automobiles. To prove his point, Jaray collaborated with the Czech company Tatra to design the Tatra 77 (T77).

With the assistance of the Austrian automobile designer Hans Ledwinka (1878-1967), Jaray produced the first aerodynamic car. Their main aim was to reduce air drag, which they achieved by reducing the height of the body and tapering the back into a fin shape. Although the engine was slightly smaller than previous cars, it amazed spectators when it managed to easily reach speeds of 90 mph. Jaray’s success led him to work with many car manufacturers, including, Chrysler, Mercedes-Benz, Audi and Ford.

Streamlining became popular with other products and not only vehicles. The 1920s and 1930s saw a new visual culture develop, which involved creating aesthetically sleek designs to replace the bulkier designs of the past. Fashion was particularly hit by this new wave and ladies wear became tight-fitting and elegant. Clothing was not the only industry to adopt the streamlined look, telephones, chairs, clocks and so forth all became slimmer and more compact.

With streamlining, cars could travel faster than ever before. Even before this was put into practice, the UK government feared for public safety and limited driving to 20 mph on all public roads as early as 1903. This was later raised to 30 mph but accidents on the roads were steadily increasing. Nonetheless, people still wanted to experience the thrill of speed and companies continued to develop fast cars.

Eileen May (‘Jill’) Thomas (née Fountain, formerly Jill Scott) by Madame Yevonde

To allow drivers the opportunity to drive at speed, the British entrepreneur Hugh Fortescue Locke King (1848-1926) opened and financed Brooklands, the world’s first purpose-built private racetrack for cars, in Weybridge, Surrey in 1907. Up until the Second World War, both men and women competed to reach new speeds. Although women were not allowed to enter formal competitions, they demanded the rights to drive, arguing that driving was about skill, not strength. Amongst these women was Jill Scott Thomas (1902-74) who was the first female to drive around Brooklands at the average speed of 120 mph. She “…drove like a man handling big fast cars with great verve and enthusiasm in days when women were not supposed to do these things. Yet she was essentially feminine…” (SCH Davis, Atalanta -Women as Racing Drivers)

Ford Mustang Fastback

By the 1950s, speed was becoming a problem on public roads, which was not helped by the new breed of popular automobile, the “muscle car”. The Ford Mustang Fastback was one of the relatively affordable “muscle cars” with a powerful engine that allowed people who could not previously afford fast cars the opportunity to experience the speed of luxury sports cars. Despite being popular, people criticised these cars, claiming they encouraged reckless driving, which would, in turn, cause more road fatalities.

To tackle car-related deaths, car companies started developing safety innovations, which are now legal requirements. The German company Bosch introduced electrical systems, such as headlights and horns. The Swedish company Volvo pioneered seatbelts, which had a major impact on driver and passenger safety. As time went on, new technologies were added to cars, allowing the vehicle the ability to control some of the driving, taking some of the responsibility away from the driver.

Ford Model T

Although the Ford Mustang is famous for its speed, it was a long time before Ford jumped on the streamline design bandwagon. From 1908 to 1927, the Ford Motor Company’s best selling car was the Model T, which is also considered to be the world’s first affordable automobile. It was also the first mass-produced car, which is what made it so much cheaper than other car models.

“I will build a motor car for the great multitude. It will be large enough for the family, but small enough for the individual to run and care for. It will be constructed of the best materials, by the best men to be hired, after the simplest designs that modern engineering can devise. But it will be so low in price that no man making a good salary will be unable to own one – and enjoy with his family the blessing of hours of pleasure in God’s great open spaces.”
– Henry Ford

Henry Ford (1863-1947) was an American industrialist who, not only founded the Ford Motor Company but also developed the assembly line technique of mass production, which changed the world. Ford was inspired by meatpacking plants in the Midwest, which gradually butchered carcasses by passing them from one team to the next, each with a different job. As a result, the main job was broken down into small tasks with one person in charge of a particular section. By incorporating this idea into his factories, Ford’s staff were able to work simultaneously on car parts that eventually got put together at the final stage of the assembly line. Although each person’s job was rather repetitive, it proved to speed up production, which allowed the company to sell the cars at a lower price.

The annual output of the Model T continued to rise and by the time it was discontinued in 1927, Ford had sold over 15 million around the world. At the time, 55% of drivers owned a Ford Model T, which is a record that has never been beaten.

Mass production caught on in other industries and soon it was not just cars that were produced through an assembly line. Everything from furniture to architecture adopted “Fordism”, which increased output and created more jobs – that is until robots were invented. By working long hours on repetitive tasks, workers’ health began to deteriorate, particularly when strenuous tasks were involved. To alleviate the problem, robots were installed to perform more demanding tasks. Unfortunately, this resulted in a loss of jobs and, in the 21st century, workers are still struggling to negotiate a way in which robots and humans can effectively collaborate.

Hispano-Suiza Type HB6 ‘Skiff Torpedo’, Hispano-Suiza (chassis)

Although the Model T allowed people of all classes to own a car, the elite prefered to stand out in the motoring world. They requested luxury, customised cars, such as the “Skiff Torpedo” designed by the Spanish company Hispano-Suiza. Over 2000 luxury cars were produced by the company, each made bespoke for every rich customer. On display at the V&A is the “Skiff Torpedo” bought by the benefactor Suzanne Deutsch de la Meurthe (1892-1937) at the Paris Auto Salon in 1919. The car was very expensive but showed the world Madame de la Meurthe was a wealthy woman. Other people who ordered a Hispano-Suiza included Constantine I of Greece (1868-1923).

Victoire, radiator mascot

Another way to demonstrate your wealth was to have a mascot on your car bonnet. Some makes of car still have these today, however, between 1920 and 1931, the French designer René Lalique (1860-1945) produced a series of mascots made from glass. Costing hundreds of pounds each, these glass creations were designed to be screwed into the radiator cap and could even be illuminated by an electric light if desired. Although these mascots were much admired, it was not long before even the most careful of drivers realised how dangerous life on the road was for the glass sculptures.

Bespoke cars could be produced in any colour the client desired, however, the customers of the Ford Model T could “have a car painted any colour that he wants so long as it is black.” This was because the black paint was much more economical than other colours. It dried quickly, which was important in assembly line manufacturing.

The American company General Motors, which was founded in 1908 by William C. Durant (1861-1947), looked for ways to easily and cheaply change the colour of a car. Collaborating with the chemical company DuPont, they created “Duco”, a quick-drying paint suitable for cars that could be produced in many different colours.

LaSalle Roadster

With their new colour palette, General Motors produced the LaSalle Roadster, which was styled to look like a luxury car but was much more affordable. The V&A displays just one of the many colours in which the car was mass-produced.

Other companies began to produce their cars in multiple colours, allowing customers to choose their preference rather than make do with what was available. In 1955, Chrysler launched a car specifically made for women, made, ironically, by men. With a pink exterior and interior, the Dodge La Femme had a simpler dashboard and came with a range of accessories, including a rain hat, coat, umbrella, handbag (pink, of course), cigarette case, mirror and make-up. Today, a female-targeted car is an extremely sexist idea and it was not until the late 1950s that women were first introduced to design teams.

The “Damsels of Design”, as they were called, were hired by General Motors to help design cars that would be attractive to women. Unfortunately, this largely involved gimmicky things and many women got frustrated and left the industry.

With so many colour ranges available, the chairman of General Motors, Alfred Sloan (1875-1966) proposed the policy of “annual model renewal”. Based on the fashion industry, which changed its lines every season, Sloan believed they could sell more cars if they continuously updated the previous year’s model. The inner engineering stayed the same, but the appearance changed regularly, tempting people to buy the latest design. Colour ranges and annual updates were introduced to other industries as well, which is why there seem to be several new smartphones or computers every year.

On the other hand, Volkswagen decided not to produce new designs each year and boasted of their VW Beetle’s iconic unchanging appearance. By advertising themselves in a self-deprecating way, mocking the annual model cycle, Volkswagen grew in popularity and saw an increase in sales.

The VW Beetle came about after the Second World War. In 1937, Adolf Hitler (1889-1945), who was a great admirer of Fordism, hired Ferdinand Porsche (1875-1951), the founder of the Porsche car company, to design a “car for the people”, i.e. Volkswagen. Hitler believed everyone in Germany should have access to a car and used this idea as propaganda for the Nazi Party. Whilst production began in 1938, it had to be temporarily halted due to the war during which time Porsche’s talents were used on the production of tanks and weapons. It was only after the British reopened the VW plant that the VW Beetle became widely available.

By the end of the war, it was clear that the world’s petrol resources were not inexhaustible. Something that was once abundant was showing signs of running out and society was beginning to face up to the potential of a future without oil. The way engines were powered needed to change and experiments began with lithium batteries and electricity. Unfortunately, the search for sustainable fuel continues today.

Ford Nucleon Concept

Before anyone realised the dangers of nuclear waste, Ford put forward a concept for a car that could be powered by a small nuclear reactor. Rather than needing to refuel, the car would be recharged after 5000 miles. The biggest problem, however, was no one had worked out how to make nuclear fission more compact to fit into a small engine, therefore, the car was never built.

Messerschmitt, KR200 Cabin Scooter Bubble Top

Another attempt at an eco-friendly car was the Messerschmitt KR200, which was produced after the 1956 Suez Crisis that saw a steep rise in oil prices. With a smaller engine, the “Bubble car” as it was nicknamed needed less fuel to run. With two front wheels and one rear wheel, less power was needed than if it had four wheels like most other cars. Unfortunately, only two people could fit in the car and the passenger had to sit behind the driver, therefore, it was not practical for families.

In the 130 years that cars have been around, they have reshaped society and geography. Initially, the few paved roads were unsuitable for driving and many more were needed to avoid congestion. Between 1920 and 2020, motorways have drastically altered the landscape of countries across the world. Green fields have been converted or divided by strips of tarmac and roads have eaten their way through mountain ranges and under bodies of water.

Tipsy

Whilst some people grieve for the loss of nature, other cultures almost worship cars. Racing drivers are an obvious example and car shows are another. In Britain, people meet up to show off their cars, particularly old-fashioned ones that are still in peak conditions. The same type of thing is done on other continents, for example, the Latino communities in LA. The V&A displays an example of a custom paint job on a 1962 Chevrolet Impala Convertible. Although it is rarely used on the road, Tomas Vazquez, a member of the Imperials, one of the biggest lowrider car clubs in the world, gave the car new life when he repainted it and added creative decorations in memory of Imperial members who have passed away. As a video in the exhibition shows, Vazquez takes great care and pride in the car, which he named Tipsy, and takes her to numerous car shows.

Since cars are updated annually, there is the constant question of “what next?” There are more and more cars on the roads each year and the petrol issue is becoming a greater problem every day. Buildings and farmlands are destroyed to make room for more roads to try to accommodate the number of vehicles. Engineers are trying to find a new method of powering cars, for instance, electricity, but even that has its flaws. Another popular idea is the future of flying cars.

Firebird 1 Concept Car

The idea of a flying car is not a new one. The first vehicle in the V&A exhibition is the General Motor’s Firebird 1 concept car from the 1950s. Inspired by jet fighter planes, the car was designed like a plane with a cockpit and gas turbine engines that promised a speed of 200 mph. As it was only a concept, the logistics had not been fully worked out and the car never flew. Today, however, a flying car is much closer to reality than it was 60 years ago.

Pop.Up Next

The exhibition closes with a vision of the future. At least four ideas are being contemplated for the future of the car: electric engines, driverless abilities, on-demand services and flying cars. The Pop.Up Next concept car combines all four ideas in one design. The car, powered by electricity, has the ability to drive on roads. A computer inside would be able to connect to people’s smartphones in order to be booked for a ride and be instructed upon the destination – no doubt it would have the latest voice recognition software. Finally, when attached to a strong propeller-like device, the car would supposedly fly.

After being shown cars of the past, visitors are left with this vision of the future. How will the car develop over the next decade, the next century and even further into the future? We wait and see.

Cars: Accelerating the Modern World is open until Sunday 19th April 2020. Tickets are £18 and under 11’s go free when accompanied by a paying adult.

Hogarth: Place and Progress

The Painter and His Pug by William Hogarth

For the first time, William Hogarth’s “Modern Moral Subjects” narrative series were united in an exhibition that explored the artist’s views on morality, society and London. Where better to hold the exhibition than at the unconventional Sir John Soane’s Museum, which already owned two series of Hogarth’s works. Sir John Soane (1753-1837) and his wife Eliza purchased Hogarth’s A Rake’s Progress in 1802, followed by The Humours of an Election in 1823. For three months, visitors to the museum were able to view these paintings alongside Hogarth’s other narrative series, including Marriage A-la-Mode, Four Times of Day, The Happy Marriage, The Four Stages of Cruelty, Industry and Idleness and Gin Lane and Beer Street.

William Hogarth was both an engraver and painter – the most outstanding in Britain during the 18th century. Born on 10th November 1697, Hogarth grew up in London where his father worked as a schoolteacher. Unfortunately, Hogarth Senior was imprisoned for debt, which had a great impact on his young son, evidenced in the prison scenes of later paintings.

Hogarth entered the art world by training as a silver plate engraver, eventually opening up his own London business in 1720. Although his working day was spent completing various commercial tasks, he spent his remaining spare time at the St Martin’s Lane Academy, studying painting under Sir James Thornhill (1675-1734).

Within the next decade, Hogarth’s painting skills were recognised through the success of his conversation pieces. He then went on to develop a new idea of using a sequence of paintings to tell a story – a precursor to the modern-day comic book. As a result of his unsatisfactory childhood, these sequential artworks focused on morals and social inadequacies.

A Harlot’s Progress (1732)

A Harlot’s Progress was the first of Hogarth’s “Modern Moral Subjects”, however, the original paintings were lost in a fire in 1755. Fortunately, engravings had been produced of the series, saving it from falling into obscurity. The series consists of six scenes that tell the story of the protagonist “M. Hackabout” and her fall from grace. It has been suggested the fictional character may have been inspired by Daniel Defoe’s (1660-1731) novel Moll Flanders, however, there is also a connection with the notorious prostitute Kate Hackabout, the sister of highwayman Francis Hackabout (hanged in 1730).

In the first scene, Moll or Mary Hackabout has arrived in Cheapside, the historic financial centre of London. Dressed immaculately, the innocent country girl has come to London in search of employment as a seamstress. Unfortunately, the unchaperoned girl has been discovered by Elizabeth Needham (d.1731), a middle-aged English procuress and brothel-keeper. Whilst Needham tries to lure Hackabout into prostitution, Colonel Francis Charteris (1675-1732), a Scottish soldier nicknamed “The Rape-Master General” looks on from the doorway of the Bell Inn.

The presence of Needham and Charteris is enough to suggest the direction of Hackabout’s future, however, Hogarth has included other visual clues in the picture. Hackabout is dressed in white, the same colour of the dead goose in her luggage, which foretells of her early death as a result of her gullibility. A teetering pile of pans also allude to Hackabout’s “fall”.

How Hackabout fared at the brothel is unknown because, by the second scene, she is now the mistress of a wealthy Jewish merchant. The merchant’s riches are evident from the West Indian serving boy, monkey, artwork on the walls and the mahogany table. Whilst this may seem a step up from the Brothel, Hackabout has taken on a young lover who can be seen in the background trying to escape whilst Hackabout causes a distraction by knocking the table over.

The Jewish merchant evidently caught on to Hackabout’s secret tryst because in the third scene she is no longer a kept woman but a common prostitute at the Rose Tavern in Drury Lane. Hackabout is shown sitting on her bed looking through the items she has stolen from various clients whilst being tended to by an old and syphilitic maid. On the wall hangs a witches hat and broomstick, suggesting prostitution is the work of the devil and a box belonging to the highwayman James Dalton (d. 1730) is stored above the bed, indicating the type of people with whom Hackabout has become involved. Her life is about to be disrupted once again, however, by the magistrate John Gonson (d. 1765) and three armed bailiffs coming through the door.

Hackabout is taken to Bridewell Prison, a place of correction for wayward women where, in scene four, she beats hemp to be used to produce hangman’s nooses. Hackabout is still dressed in fine clothes, however, the state of the women around her suggest she will not stay that way for long.

By scene five, Hackabout’s life as a prostitute has finally caught up with her as she lays dying from syphilis. Two doctors, the English Richard Rock (1690-1777) and the French Jean Misaubin (1673-1734) argue over the right type of treatment, evidently unaware that their patient is about to take her final breath. The presence of a child suggests Hackabout had a son, however, his disinterest in the situation makes it clear they did not have a loving relationship.

At Hackabout’s funeral in scene six, only one person appears concerned about her death – a young woman who peers into the coffin, seeing her own fate if she does not change her situation. An inscription on the coffin lid reveals Hackabout died at only 23 years old, but the people in the room seem not to care about the passing of such a young life, particularly the parson who spills his drink while getting cosy with the woman seated beside him.

Hogarth’s A Harlot’s Progress reveals how quickly a person can fall into temptation and sin, going from innocent young girl to the grave in a handful of years. Hogarth originally painted a picture of a prostitute for rakish clientele, however, he decided to explore how the girl found herself in that situation and her eventual fate. As a result, A Harlot’s Progress is a warning to young women living during Hogarth’s time of the sinfulness in London and the impossibility of escaping a life of prostitution once one has “fallen”.

A Rake’s Progress (1734)

Hogarth’s second and most famous progress is A Rake’s Progress, which usually hangs in the Picture Room at the Sir John Soane’s Museum. Following the success of A Harlot’s Progress, Hogarth decided to explore the fate of a male character whose sins lead to inevitable death. The Rake, Tom Rakewell, is the son and heir of a rich merchant. In the first scene of eight, Tom is being measured for new clothes, using the money he has gained from the death of his father. Whilst the servants mourn their master’s passing, Tom is more concerned about getting rid of his pregnant fiancée Sarah Young, despite having had a common-law marriage with her.

Tom Rakewell moves to London where he purchases a spacious house in the West End. Scene two shows Tom at his morning levée attended by a music master on the harpsichord (potentially George Frideric Handel), a fencing master, a dancing master, an ex-soldier, a bugler, a jockey and the landscape gardener Charles Bridgeman (1690-1738). Tom has yet to “fall” but his lavish spending of money reveals him to be a spendthrift and at risk of losing his wealth.

Scene three shows a vastly different party to the previous painting. Tom is attending an orgy at a brothel, potentially the Rose Tavern, Drury Lane, with many drunk men and prostitutes. Having had too much to drink, Tom slouches in a chair where he is distracted by one of the prostitutes whilst another picks his pockets. The immorality of the scene is emphasised by an upturned chamber pot spilling its contents onto a plate of food. Hogarth has painted black spots on the faces on the prostitutes to suggest they are suffering from venereal diseases.

By scene four, Tom has spent all his money and has been arrested for debt by Welsh bailiffs in the centre of London. The scene reveals he was apprehended whilst on his way to St. James’s Palace to celebrate Queen Caroline’s (1683-1737) birthday, which was incidentally Saint David’s Day, hence all the Welsh symbolism. Fortunately, Tom’s rejected fiancée Sarah Young is passing by and, because she still loves him, pays his fine, saving him from debtors prison. Hogarth adds comic elements to this scene, including a lamplighter accidentally pouring oil on Tom’s head and a young thief stealing Tom’s cane.

In an attempt to salvage his fortune, Tom marries a rich but elderly woman at St Marylebone Church, as shown in scene five. In the background is Sarah Young with their child, trying to stop the wedding but guests prevent her from entering the church. Tom is completely oblivious to the commotion and also shows little interest in the wedding, eyeing his new wife’s pretty maid rather than focusing on the ceremony.

Despite marrying into money, Tom’s addiction to spending and gambling gets the better of him. Scene six takes place in a gaming den at White’s Club in Soho where Tom has, once again, lost all his money. Whilst Tom kneels on the floor begging for divine intervention, other gamblers continue playing, completely oblivious that a fire has broken out at the back of the room.

Tom survived the fire but Sarah Young was unable to save him from Fleet’s debtors prison, which is where he ends up in scene seven. Although Sarah has come to visit with their child, she faints at the scene before her; meanwhile, Tom’s wife berates him for spending all her money and leaving her with no resources or protection. The jailer and beer-boy demand money from Tom, which he is unable to pay, having given up on writing a play in an attempt to earn money.

With no hope left, Tom goes insane and possibly violent, ending his days chained up in Bethlem hospital, London’s infamous mental asylum. The ever-faithful Sarah Young is the only person there to comfort him whilst fashionably dressed women visit the madhouse for fun as a place of entertainment. The bizarre antics of the other inmates, such as a naked man wearing a crown and urinating on the floor, reveal how filthy and inhospitable the asylum was during Hogarth’s time.

Since mental health is better understood today, 21st-century viewers of the paintings may be shocked by the behaviour of the wealthy in the final scene. The mentally ill were exploited for entertainment purposes and their chance of recovery was slim or nonexistent. Although Hogarth never painted Tom Rakewell’s death, it is clear from the conditions of the hospital that he would die there – his punishment for living such an immoral life.

Marriage A-la-Mode (1743-45)

Marriage A-la-Mode differs from Hogarth’s previous series in that it does not tell the story of an unfortunate individual but rather the unavoidably tragic story of an arranged marriage. Wealthy families tended to arrange the marriages of their children to benefit the family name and business, however, Earl Squanderfield has become bankrupt. Nonetheless, he is determined to arrange a marriage between his son and the daughter of a wealthy city merchant. The Earl uses his family tree, which claims he is descended from William the Conqueror, to win over the miserly merchant.

The first scene reveals the attitudes of the son and daughter toward their impending marriage. The young girl is in tears, evidently not wanting to marry the Earl’s uninterested son who gazes at himself in a mirror. The health of the Earl demonstrates the fate of selfish, money-grabbing people, resting his swollen, gouty foot on a footstool under the table.

The second scene takes place at a grander house, suggesting the Earl has died and the son has used his inheritance and wife’s money on luxuries. His money cannot last forever, which is clear from the stack of unpaid bills in the steward’s hands. The marriage also appears to be failing as the husband appears to be uninterested in his wife who is attempting to entice him over the breakfast table. A lady’s cap poking out of his pocket suggests he has been conducting an affair with another woman, and a black mark on his skin hints he may be suffering from syphilis.

The lady who the cap belonged to could be the young girl in the next scene. Set in a quack doctor’s surgery, the girl looks too small to be the man’s wife, therefore, it can be assumed she is the husband’s lover. The reason for visiting the quack is uncertain; some say the husband is complaining the mercury pills previously prescribed were not curing his syphilis, whereas, others point out the girl looks particularly unwell, therefore, could be pregnant or may have been infected with syphilis by her lover. It has been suggested that the other woman in the painting is the girl’s mother who is blackmailing the husband for defiling her daughter, however, the signs of syphilis on the mother’s skin imply she is equally to blame.

As earl and countess, the husband and wife hold and attend many parties, including one which is shown in scene four. The guests are preparing to enter the ballroom but the countess has turned her back on them to talk to a lawyer named Silvertongue. Various symbols suggest an existence of an affair between countess and lawyer, which is confirmed in the next scene where the earl discovers his wife in her private rooms with her lover.

Presumably after a duel, the earl is fatally wounded and the lawyer makes a hasty exit through the window in his nightshirt, as shown in scene five. Interestingly, the countess reaches out for her dying husband, forgetting all about her lover, despite the lack of affection in the marriage.

Whether from guilt or grief, the countess poisons herself with a bottle of laudanum, which lies empty at her feet in the final scene. An elderly woman lifts a baby to kiss its mother goodbye, revealing marks of syphilis on the baby’s cheek and leg, possibly passed on by the father. The countess’ father removes the wedding ring from his dead daughter’s finger, presumably to try and sell as it is the only item of worth in the poverty-stricken house.

With this series, Hogarth was satirising the rich and their arranged marriages. Whilst poorer, the common people were more likely to marry for love and live happily, unlike the wealthy who could afford to turn to vices to make up for the lack of affection in their lives.

The Happy Marriage (after 1745)

Following the completion of Marriage A-la-Mode, Hogarth began working on a positive counterpart known as The Happy Marriage. The series was never completed and all that remains are three unfinished paintings and four engravings made by artists after Hogarth’s death. Reasons for abandoning the project are widely speculated from the suggestion that “the rancour and malevolence of his mind” made it impossible for Hogarth to paint happy scenes, to it was too similar to works by other artists or authors at the time, for instance, the novel Pamela; or Virtue Rewarded by Samuel Richarson (1675-1732).

Due to the incompleteness, it is not certain in what order the images were intended to be viewed, however, some art critics have managed to piece together some semblance of a story. Unlike in Marriage A-la-Mode where the marriage was forced upon the young couple, The Happy Marriage begins with a courtship during which time they attend a garden party. A marriage eventually follows and the couple lives happily together with several children. One engraving also suggests they assisted the poor by handing out money and provisions.

It is thought the timespan of The Happy Marriage is the same as its counterpart, thus revealing how different life can be when a couple remains virtuous.

The Four Times of Day (1736-37)

The Four Times of Day is different from Hogarth’s previous works in that it does not follow a story but rather an observation of the goings-on in London over 24 hours. Slightly humorous in parts, Hogarth depicted people of all classes without showing preference to any particular type of person.

The first painting, titled Morning, shows an upper-class lady on her way to a church near Covent Garden, presumably St Paul’s Church, whose recognisable Palladian portico can be seen on the left-hand side. In front of the church is Tom King’s Coffee House, a regular haunt for prostitutes and their customers. The lady shields herself with her fan as she passes the disorderly group outside of the coffee house, who still appear to be intoxicated from the night before.

Noon takes place in the district of St Giles in the West End of London. On one side of the painting, well-dressed Huguenots are leaving the church, presumably St Giles in the Fields, which contrasts with the opposite scene. A small slovenly maid walks past the rotting corpse of a cat and the churchgoers, distracted by a black man fondling her breast. Not only is she unaware of her surroundings, but she is also no longer concentrating on her work, causing the contents of her pie dish to fall onto and break the plate of the boy in front of her, who stands there in distress.

The third scene, Evening, takes place in Clerkenwell, which during Hogarth’s time was outside of the city. A cow being milked in the background suggests it is about 5 pm and an ill-matched couple are returning from the capital. The husband, who carries his exhausted daughter, is a dyer by trade, evidenced by his stained finger-tips. The wife, presumably pregnant due to her size, tries to cool herself down with a fan displaying the classical scene of Venus and Adonis, suggesting she has been unfaithful to her husband. The timing of the scene places the husband directly in front of the cow’s head, making it appear as though the cow’s horns belonged to him. This is symbolic of a cuckold, the husband of an adulterous wife, which suggests his daughter and the unborn child may not be his.

The series ends with the scene Night, which takes place in Charing Cross with the statue of Charles I in the background. Scholars have suggested the date of the scene to be 29th May and, therefore, the people in the scene are returning home after celebrating the anniversary of the Restoration of the Monarchy. Charing Cross was a central staging post for coaches, just as it is now for taxis, however, the surrounding narrow roads were difficult to traverse during congested times. Hogarth reveals the fate of one of these coaches, which has overturned in front of a bonfire. The coach has yet to catch fire, however, the faces of the terrified passengers suggests the disaster will be inevitable. Meanwhile, a scene through a window reveals the unhygienic room belonging to a barber-surgeon. In those days, surgeons and barbers were one and the same, hence the sign that reads “Shaving, bleeding, and teeth drawn with a touch”. The barber, probably drunk after the day’s festivities, haphazardly shaves the beard of a customer with a knife that has no doubt been used for other more gruesome jobs.

The Four Stages of Cruelty (1751)

Ultimately, Hogarth’s progress series were produced as warnings against immoral behaviour. The Four Stages of Cruelty “were done in hopes of preventing in some degree that cruel treatment of poor Animals which makes the streets of London more disagreeable to the human mind, than any thing whatever.” (Hogarth) Rather than painting, Hogarth decided to only make engravings, which could be printed in multiples and distributed to a wider audience.

The series follows a character called Tom Nero who, in the first stage of cruelty, is seen inserting an arrow up a dog’s backside. Other boys in the street carry out other barbaric acts, such as burning out a bird’s eyes. Meanwhile, a tenderhearted boy pleads with Tom to cease the torture. It is said this well-dressed boy represents a young George III.

Tom is older in the second stage of cruelty and makes a living as a hackney coachman. His cruelty of animals as a schoolboy has continued into adulthood and he can be seen beating his horse, who has collapsed due to the previous mistreatment and overwork. Ironically, the overweight passengers in the carriage are lawyers, who turn a blind eye to Tom’s crimes. This, along with the lack of law enforcement in the first scene was Hogarth’s way of pointing out animals had no protection for mistreatment and violent crimes.

Things have escalated by the third scene, which reveals Tom has turned to thieving and murder. Tom persuaded his pregnant girlfriend Ann Gill to rob and leave her mistress. Ann, however, has second thoughts after the event, so to keep her quiet, Tom murders her. Her mutilated body lies at the bottom of the engraving along with a note that reads:

Dear Tommy
My mistress has been the best of women to me, and my conscience flies in my face as often as I think of wronging her; yet I am resolved to venture body and soul to do as you would have me, so do not fail to meet me as you said you would, for I will bring along with me all the things I can lay my hands on. So no more at present; but I remain yours till death.
Ann Gill.

Now that Tom has murdered a human being, the authorities finally get involved. In the final scene, Tom has been found guilty and hanged for his crime. The scene shows Tom’s corpse being subjected to the process of public dissection, however, the contortions of the body and expression of agony on Tom’s face suggests he was not yet dead when removed from the hangman’s noose.

Although The Four Stages of Cruelty did not have an immediate effect, Hogarth was pleased with the results. Eighty years after the scenes were published, the first Cruelty to Animals Act was passed by Parliament, outlawing the animal tortures depicted in Hogarth’s work.

The Humours of an Election (1754-55)

Whilst the majority of Hogarth’s works are based on fictional people, The Humours of an Election is a satirical series of oil paintings about an election held in Oxfordshire in 1754. Hogarth demonstrates the corruption of parliamentary elections before the Great Reform Act, which was eventually passed several decades after the artist’s death.

In the first scene, An Election Entertainment, the Whig candidates are enjoying a meal at an Inn whilst the Tories can be seen through the window protesting on the streets. Members of the latter party hold a banner with the words “Give us our Eleven days” in protest against the adoption of the Gregorian calendar.

Supposedly parodying the Last Supper, the Whig candidates try to butter up their supporters, which includes kissing an unattractive pregnant woman and listening to a drunk man’s story. Meanwhile, one man is knocked out by a brick thrown through the window by the Tories and another collapses from eating too many oysters. Hogarth pokes fun at the Irish politician Sir John Parnell (1720-82) who is seated at the table using a napkin as a hand puppet.

Scene two, Canvassing for Votes, shows two opposing candidates attempting to bribe an innkeeper to vote for them. Although this series is based on Oxford, Hogarth named the town Guzzletown, implying the members of parliament are corrupt drunks. The parties are represented by different inns: The Crown for the Whigs and the Royal Oak for the Tories. The Whigs’ establishment is being mobbed by those opposed to being taxed, whereas, the Tories are made to appear antisemitic. A third establishment, the Portobello Inn, represents an independent party.

The next stage of the progress is The Polling, in which voters are shown declaring their support for their favoured party. The Whigs are represented by an orange banner and the Tories with blue. Both parties are using unethical tactics to increase their votes, for instance, forcing a mentally disabled man to vote and carrying forward a man on the brink of death. Meanwhile, a genuine voter, a veteran soldier, is challenged because he has lost both of his hands and cannot swear his identity on the Bible. In the background, a woman in a coach that represents Britannia struggles as the carriage breaks down, unbeknownst to the drivers who are too busy playing cards, one of whom is cheating.

The final scene, Chairing the Member, depicts the aftermath of the election. A victorious Tory candidate is being carried aloft on a chair but is about to be knocked over by two opposing voters who are fighting in the street. Although the scene is one of celebration, there are many impending disasters that only the viewer can see. Pigs run riot, two chimney sweeps urinate on a dancing bear and, in the background, hoards of either celebrating or protesting voters are crowding the street.

At the time, Hogarth was making a mockery of the way elections were held, highlighting how corrupt the politicians were. Nowadays, the paintings are useful for historians when researching how elections were held in the 18th century, for instance, the lack of a secret ballot.

Industry and Idleness (1747)

Just as he went on to do with The Four Stages of Cruelty, Hogarth created Industry and Idleness solely as a set of engravings. With a total of twelve plates, this is the longest series of work Hogarth completed, which tackles both the inevitable consequences of vice and the rewards of virtue. The series follows the lives of two characters, Francis Goodchild and Tom Idle, who begin life on the same rung of the ladder but gradually move towards their respective fates. Each scene is accompanied by a Biblical reference, which foreshadows the future.

In plate one, Goodchild and Idle are apprentice weavers, however, their attitude to the work differs greatly. “The hand of the diligent maketh rich,” (Proverbs 10:4) describes Goodfellow, who is busy at the loom surrounded by helpful literature, including his copy of The Prentice’s Guide. On the other hand, “The Drunkard shall come to Poverty, & drowsiness shall cloath a Man with rags,” (Proverbs 23:21) warns of Idle’s fate, who is already disappointing his master by sleeping on the job.

“O! How I love thy Law it is my meditation all day.”
Psalm 119:97

On Sundays, the apprentices were given the day off to attend church, which is what Goodchild is doing in plate two. He can be seen standing next to the master’s daughter at St Martin-in-the-Fields. Meanwhile, in plate three, Idle is spending his Sunday rather differently.

“Judgments are prepared for scorners & stripes for the back of Fools”
Proverbs 19:29

Rather than attend a church service, Tom Idle remains in the churchyard with other badly behaved boys who are sitting on top of a tombstone and gambling with a few coins. Behind them stands a beadle, ready to beat the boys for their disrespect.

“Well done good and faithfull servant thou hast been faithfull over a few things, I will make thee Ruler over many things.”
Matthew 25:21

By plate four, Goodchild has been promoted from apprentice to the bookkeeper of his master’s business. The set of keys and a money bag in Goodchild’s hands proves he has earnt his master’s trust.

“A foolish son is the heaviness of his Mother.”
Proverbs 10:1

Idle, on the other hand, has been turned away from the business and sent out to sea to earn a living. Plate five shows Idle and his weeping mother crossing the Thames in a wooden rowing boat, however, Idle has thrown his contract in the water, no longer wanting to be under anyone’s authority.

“The Virtuous Woman is a Crown to her Husband.”‘
Proverbs 12:4

Not only did Goodchild work his way up in the weaving company, but he also won the hand of his master’s daughter, who he has married by plate six. Mr and Mrs Goodchild stand at a window, distributing the remnants of their dinner to the poor. A sign hanging on the building reveals Goodchild’s name has been added to the title of the family business.

“The Sound of a Shaken Leaf shall Chace him.”
Leviticus 26:30

Having rejected formal employment, Idle has become a thief or highwayman and has taken up residence with a common prostitute. While this woman studies Idle’s latest spoils, Idle starts at the sound of a cat falling down the chimney. The bolts and extra planks of wood on the door to the room suggest Idle is terrified of the law catching him for his crimes.

“With all thy getting get understanding Exalt her, & she shall promote thee: she shall bring thee to honour, when thou dost Embrace her.”
Proverbs 4:7-8

Whilst Idle hides away, Mr and Mrs Goodchild attend an opulent banquet where they sit in the seats of the guests of honour. Although Goodchild has become associated with the upper class who Hogarth generally dispised, he portrays Goodchild as a well-dressed individual, whereas, the others present at the meal tend to be overweight, unruly and busy stuffing food into their mouths.

“The Adulteress will hunt for the precious life.”
Proverbs 6:26

Idle progresses from thieving to murder, as seen in plate nine. Idle is examining the possessions of his recent victim whilst another man disposes of the body through a trap door. Idle’s prostitute, however, reveals Idle’s location to men of the Law in exchange for a small sum of money. With nowhere to run, Idle is about to be caught red-handed.

“The Wicked is snar’d in the work of his own hands.”
Psalm 9:16

“Thou shalt do no unrighteousness in Judgement.”
Leviticus 19:15

Idle and Goodchild’s paths cross once more in plate ten. Goodchild has become an alderman and it is his job to sentence Idle for his crimes. Despite the pleading of Idle and his mother, Goodchild has no choice but to sentence Idle to death. The expression on Goodchild’s face suggests he is struggling to hide his emotions and feelings for his former workmate.

“When fear cometh as desolation, and their destruction cometh as a Whirlwind; when distress cometh upon them, they shall call upon God, but he will not answer.”
Proverbs 1:27

So, Idle meets his fate in plate eleven as he travels to the gallows. In the coach, Idle leans against his coffin whilst a Methodist preacher makes a last-minute attempt to persuade Idle to repent of his sins. The coach is surrounded by crowds of people travelling to witness Idle’s execution. No one looks particularly upset about Idle’s fate and only accompany him out of morbid curiosity.

“Length of days is in her right hand, and in her left hand Riches and Honour.”
Proverbs 3:16

By the end of the series, Goodchild’s life is a stark contrast to his deceased workmate. Due to his virtuous nature, Goodchild has been elected Lord Mayor of the City and rides through a celebrating crowd in the Lord Mayor’s carriage. Since this is the final plate, Hogarth does not reveal how Goodchild’s life ends, however, if the previous plates are anything to go by, Goodchild is likely to have a long and happy future.

Gin Lane and Beer Street (1751)

Although Gin Lane and Beer Street are not one of Hogarth’s “Modern Moral Subjects” nor a series, the two prints were an appropriate ending to the exhibition at the John Soane’s Museum. Hogarth issued these prints the year after the Sales of Spirits Act was passed in 1750, also known as the Gin Act. Since the quality of water in London was so poor, citizens took to drinking gin as a cheap alternative. Unfortunately, this led to extreme drunkenness and addiction. Even when prices were raised, people still found a way to purchase and abuse gin. With these two prints, Hogarth was attempting to persuade people to drink a “safer” alternative: beer.

Gin Lane is set in the slum district of St Giles full of dishevelled people on the brink of death or despair. The only two flourishing businesses are the gin seller and the pawnbroker, where people sell their possessions for a few pennies to spend on gin. In the foreground are two people whose lives have been ruined by gin. One man resembles a skeleton, having given up food to be able to afford the drink. The other person, a woman, is so drunk she lets her baby slip from her arms, plunging to certain death. The syphilitic sores on the woman’s legs suggest she may have taken to prostitution to fund her addiction.

Beer Street, on the other hand, is set near St Martin-in-the-Fields on 30th October, George II’s birthday. The inhabitants are good-humoured, well dressed and, although they are all drinking, are taking a break from a hard day’s work. Businesses appear to be thriving and no one is in the grips of despair, except perhaps the pawnbroker who receives very little custom.

Whilst Hogarth deliberately makes the Beer Street lifestyle more appealing, it did not have an immediate effect on the people of London. Those gripped by addiction ignored his warnings and continued to seek out supplies. In 1836, gin consumption was still an issue, as Charles Dickens (1812-70) pointed out: “Gin-drinking is a great vice in England, but wretchedness and dirt are a greater; and until you improve the homes of the poor, or persuade a half-famished wretch not to seek relief in the temporary oblivion of his own misery, with the pittance that, divided among his family, would furnish a morsel of bread for each, gin-shops will increase in number and splendour.” Nonetheless, Hogarth’s prints started the slow progress of sobering up the people of London.

Hogarth: Place and Progress not only allowed visitors to the museum to see some of the best works of one of the greatest English painters and printers, but it also allowed us to discover life in London during the 1700s, particularly for the poor. History tends to focus on the victors, the rich and the important, therefore, the people at the bottom of the social scale tend to get erased. Hogarth, who grew up in a lower-middle-class family, thus experienced both ends of the scale, captured the truth, albeit slightly satirical, for posterity.

The art critic Brian Sewell declared in 2007 that “Hogarth saw it all and saw it straight, without Rowlandson’s gloss of puerile humour and without Gainsborough’s gloss of sentimentality.” This also says a lot about Hogarth’s personality. Having experienced debtors prison through his father, he sympathised with the poor, however, he tended to blame them for their vices and suggested it was their choices that controlled their future and not their financial positions. Meanwhile, Hogarth did not believe the upper classes were better than the lower. Often, he painted the rich as fat, selfish men, however, those who had worked their way up the ladder through virtuous behaviour were looked upon in a different light.

Hogarth was by no means a perfect gentleman, however, he made a name for himself and tried to provide for his wife Jane, the daughter of his former tutor Sir James Thornhill. Hogarth was initiated as a Freemason by 1728 and bought a house in Leicester Square, then known as Leicester Fields, and a country retreat in Chiswick. The latter is now known as Hogarth House and is preserved as a museum. Although Jane and Hogarth had no children of their own, they frequently fostered foundling children and helped to set up the Foundling Hospital in Hatton Garden.

Hogarth died in London on 26th October 1764 and was buried at St Nicholas Church in Chiswick. His greatness as a painter of “Modern Moral Subjects” was captured in an inscription on his tomb written by the actor David Garrick (1717-79):

Farewell great Painter of Mankind
Who reach’d the noblest point of Art
Whose pictur’d Morals charm the Mind
And through the Eye correct the Heart.

If Genius fire thee, Reader, stay,
If Nature touch thee, drop a Tear:
If neither move thee, turn away,
For Hogarth’s honour’d dust lies here.

Although the exhibition has now closed, it is still possible to see A Rake’s Progress and The Humours of an Election at the Sir John Soane’s Museum in Lincoln Fields Inn, Holborn. Other places in London to view Hogarth’s work include Tate Britain, the National Gallery and the Foundling Museum.

The Self-Portraits of Lucian Freud

For the first time, Lucian Freud’s self-portraits have been united for one extraordinary exhibition at the Royal Academy of Arts in London. With a career spanning almost 70 years, the exhibition explores Freud’s development as a painter from his earliest portrait of 1939, to his final one painted 64 years later. Displayed in chronological order, the self-portraits create a visual timeline of Freud’s appearance, providing the perfect opportunity for the Royal Academy to discover the man behind the canvas.

Lucian Shaving – David Dawson 2006

Lucian Michael Freud was born in Berlin on 8th December 1922. Initially, he grew up in Germany with his parents, Lucie and Ernst Freud (1892-1970) and his brothers Stephan and Clement. In 1933, the family fled to the United Kingdom to escape Nazi Germany and were later joined by Lucian’s famous paternal grandfather, the psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud (1856-1939).

The Freud family settled in St John’s Wood, London, however, the boys attended Dartington Hall School in Devon. Lucian later attended Bryanston School in Dorset, however, was expelled after a year due to disruptive behaviour. After this, Freud attended a few art colleges in London and was encouraged by his mother to display some of his artwork at an exhibition of children’s drawing at London’s Guggenheim Jeune Gallery in 1938.

From 1939 until 1942, Freud attended the Welsh painter Cedric Morris’ (1889-1982) East Anglian School of Painting and Drawing in Suffolk. Whilst there, Freud became determined to have a career as a painter and produced his first self-portrait. His art education was briefly disrupted when he was called up to serve as a merchant seaman in an Atlantic convoy, however, he was invalided out of service after a few months.

Man with a Feather, 1942

Freud destroyed many of his self-portraits but, fortunately, over 50 remain, including one of his early works Man with a Feather (1943). This was painted after finishing his art education, which concluded with a year at Goldsmith’s College in London. This painting was exhibited with a selection of Freud’s works at his first solo exhibition at Lefevre Gallery, London in 1944. The three-quarter length portrait shows Freud holding a white feather, which he had been given by his first serious girlfriend, Lorna Wishart (1911-2000). Incidentally, Freud went on to marry Lorna’s niece Kitty (d.2011), who was the daughter of the sculptor Jacob Epstein (1880-1959).

Comparing the early self-portraits with his later works, Freud was initially influenced by German Expressionism and occasionally surrealism. After the war, Freud developed a precise linear style using muted colours and elongated brushstrokes. His drawings were sharp and graphic, produced by a variety of ink, crayon and pencil.

Man with a Thistle

Starled Man, 1948

Man at Night, 1940

Self-Portrait as Actaeon, 1949

Man with a Thistle (Self-portrait) is an example of Freud’s linear style painting. This particular self-portrait was produced during a five-month stay on the Greek island of Paros. The vertical and horizontal lines are severe and dominate the painting, whilst the image of himself is relegated to the background.

During the 1940s, Freud tended to prefer drawing over painting, therefore, the majority of his early self-portraits were produced in pencil and pen. Startled Man, for example, was drawn with conté crayon and pencil. The outcome looks similar to the result of etching, and the facial expression is not too dissimilar to the series of experimental self-portrait etchings by the Dutch artist Rembrandt (1606-69).

Other examples of Freud’s drawings include Man at Night and Self-Portrait as Actaeon. Both of these outcomes must have taken an exceedingly long time since the drawing is made up of tiny markings. Freud used dots and dashes to produce the tones, shadows and outlines, leaving the lighter areas blank. This works particularly well in Man at Night, which reveals the artist lit up from one side by an artificial light source.

Self-Portrait as Actaeon was originally intended as an illustration for a book of Greek myths. Unfortunately, the book was rejected by the publisher, however, the illustrations were later published in a magazine. Possibly inspired by Titian’s (1488-1576) Diana and Actaeon, which now hangs in the National Gallery in London, Freud depicted himself as Actaeon, a famous Theban hero, who was turned into a stag after accidentally coming across the goddess Diana bathing.

Self-Portrait with Black Eye, 1978

Hotel Bedroom, 1954

“People thought and said and wrote that my paintings were linear and defined by drawing. I’ve never been that affected by writing, but I thought if that’s all true, I must stop.”

Around the mid-1950s, Freud transitioned from drawing to painting and began to approach his artwork differently. For years, Freud used small canvases that he could fit on his lap, however, he began to find this rather restrictive and decided to paint at an easel instead. Whilst he continued to produce the occasional small painting, Freud started working on a much larger scale.

Since his return from Greece, Freud had made London his permanent home and was later characterised as a figurative painter in the “School of London”. Amongst this group of artists were R.B. Kitaj (1932-2007), Frank Auerbach (b.1931) and Francis Bacon (1909-92), the latter being a great influence on Freud. Bacon tended to use hog’s hair brushes, which allowed him to handle a heavier load of paint than Freud’s sable-hair brushes. After swapping to hog’s hair brushes, Freud’s style became vastly different from his earlier work. Whilst the handling of the paint created more texture on the canvas, the portraits were closer to reality than his flat, graphic versions.

When the focus was purely on the body, Freud used his new style of painting. The thicker brushes and paint helped him to concentrate on the texture and colour of flesh. Unlike his graphic drawing style that he eventually stopped using, Freud retained this new style for the rest of his life, as can be seen when comparing his work from the 1950s with a self-portrait painted in 1978. Self-Portrait with a Black Eye was painted immediately after an argument with a taxi driver that evidently turned physical. Intrigued by the changes in colour and shape caused by the bruising and swelling, Freud was keen to capture it on canvas.

Although he continued to use hog’s hair brushes for the rest of his artistic career, it was not the only style of painting Freud developed. During the 1960s, Freud experimented with watercolours, which resulted in a flatter colour than the thick oil paint. By using this medium, Freud retained a little of his earlier linearity but the colour washes reduced the harshness of the lines. Freud replicated this style in oil paint, particularly when there was more to a painting than human flesh. An example of this is Hotel Bedroom, which combines his old style with a softer brushstroke.

Hotel Bedroom includes a self-portrait of Freud who is standing behind a bed in which his wife is lying. This is not a portrait of Kitty, who Freud divorced in 1952, but his second wife Lady Caroline Blackwood (1931-96) who he married in 1953. Unfortunately, their marriage only lasted four years and a sense of estrangement can already be felt in this artwork, which was painted in 1954. Freud did not marry again after his second divorce, however, it is rumoured that he fathered as many as 40 children, however, only 14 have been officially identified as his – two from his first marriage and 12 by various mistresses.

Reflection with Two Children, 1965

Interior with Plant, Reflection Listening, 1967-8

Interior with Hand Mirror, 1967

Throughout his career, Freud painted portraits of other people, including his children. The first time his children appeared in his work, however, was at the bottom of a self-portrait, Reflection with Two Children. Rose and Ali are positioned in front of a gigantic mirror, producing a slightly surreal effect, since they do not have any reflection. The painting was inspired by a picture Freud had seen in a book, however, it also tells us a little about Freud’s painting process.

When creating self-portraits, Freud preferred to paint his likeness from mirrors rather than photographs. He often left mirrors lying at various angles in his studio in the hopes that it would produce an interesting perspective. For Reflection with Two Children, Freud placed the mirror directly on the floor and painted himself peering into it from above. Unlike his previous self-portraits, Freud included the mirror’s frame in the painting.

Freud may have taken inspiration from past painters who included mirrors in their work, for example, Velázquez (1599-1660) and Van Eyck (d.1441). For a while, Freud continued to include mirrors in his work, for example, Interior with Plant, Reflection Listening in which he included a small self-portrait behind an enormous houseplant. Freud also used a range of different sized mirrors of which Interior with Hand Mirror (Self-portrait) is an appropriate example. Slightly different from his usual style of work, the tiny reflection resembles Freud’s usual method of depicting flesh, however, the rest of the painting feels washed-out and rushed.

Two Irish Men in W11, 1984/5

“My work is purely autobiographical. It’s about myself and my surroundings … I work from the people that interest me and that I care about and think about in rooms that I live and know.”

By the mid-60s, Freud was focused on full-length portraits, which continued to show his ability to convey the luminous texture of the human flesh. Many of these portraits were of nudes, including paintings of his children, which unsettled many viewers. Rather than portraying men and women in the tradition of Renaissance artists, Freud was brutally honest, revealing all parts of the human anatomy.

Not all Freud’s full-length portraits involved nudity, for instance, Two Irish Men in W11 in which the men are fully clothed. The unnamed men were painted in one of Freud’s London studios. Throughout his career, Freud had studios in Paddington, Notting Hill and Holland Park, which were decked out with battered sofas, bare walls and wooden floors. Some critics claim these downtrodden environments added to the psychology of Freud’s work, evidencing the influence of his grandfather.

Although the main focus of the portraits was on the sitter, Freud often managed to subtly include himself in the painting. Sometimes a glimpse of his reflection can be seen in a mirror or, in the case of Two Irish Men in W11, unfinished self-portraits sit on the floor against the wall. Oftentimes these glimpses go unnoticed unless pointed out.

Freud painted portraits of his friends and fellow artists, including Auerbach and Bacon. Sometimes the sitter was clothed and other times naked, often sprawled across a bed or on the floor. He did not seek out attractive models for his nudes but painted people of all shapes and sizes, including the very large Sue Tilley (b. 1957), nicknamed Big Sue. Despite going against conventional beauty, the painting sold for $33.6 million in 2008. His most frequent sitter was his friend David Dawson, however, he also painted a few well-known names, such as Kate Moss (b.1974) and the Queen (b.1926), the latter obviously fully clothed.

Reflection (Self-Portrait), 1985

Self-Portrait: Reflection, 1996

Freud painted his first nude self-portrait at the age of 70, using thick layers of paint to draw attention to his ageing body. It took him several months to complete and Freud was never completely happy with the result. “I couldn’t scrap it,” he said, “because I would be doing away with myself.”

As well as the full length nude, Freud continued to produce self-portraits, for example, close-ups of his head and shoulders. Again, he applied thick paint to the canvas to reveal the lines on his ageing face as well as the shadows caused by the artificial lighting in his studio.

Towards the end of his career, Freud rekindled his passion for lines by producing etchings, which he had briefly experimented with during the 1940s. Freud approached his etchings in a similar manner to painting, propping the copper plate upright on his easel. Over weeks and months, he etched into the metal, working heavily on the backgrounds to make it darker than the subject of the etching. Freud only produced one etched self-portrait, which shows up all the wrinkles and imperfections of his 74-year-old face. Due to the overworking of the stylus on the metal plate, the final print is rather dark, almost as if the elderly man is fading into the background.

In 1996, 27 of Freud’s paintings and 13 etchings were displayed at the Abbot Hall Art Gallery in Kendal, Cumbria. This was a particularly major exhibition for the artist and it was followed by an exhibition of his early works at the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art. In 2002, Tate Britain held a large retrospective of Freud’s work, however, it has taken until 2019, eight years after Freud’s death, for the first exhibition of his self-portraits to be held.

Lucian Freud died on 20th July 2011 and was buried by the then Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams (b.1950), at Highgate Cemetry. Freud was an extremely private man, which is why the majority of his paintings are of friends and family. No doubt the number of self-portraits indicate Freud prefered his own company to others. His self-portraits reveal his change in artistic techniques but also provide an insight into his psyche. Never smiling, it is possible Freud did not like what he saw, suggesting he did not have the greatest relationship with himself. The fact he destroyed many of his self-portraits is also indicative of this.

Lucian Freud: The Self-portraits does not contain any “wow-factor” paintings, however, it allows visitors to learn and understand the painter, who until now has just been a well-known name. Living in the shadow of his grandfather, Freud made a name for himself as a painter, shocking people with nudity and unpolished human flesh, and yet, we learn he was a private individual, vastly contrasting with the opinions of the public and critics.

Lucian Freud: The Self-portraits is open at the Royal Academy of Arts until 26th January 2020. Tickets are £18 and it is advisable to book a timed entry in advance. Although under 16s can visit for free, some paintings are unsuitable for young visitors.

Treasures of the Golden Pharaoh

Until 3rd May 2020, the people of Britain have a final chance to see the glittering world heritage artefacts that were discovered in a tomb belonging to King Tutankhamun before they return to Egypt forever. With a new museum being built specifically for the treasures in Egypt, 150 of the total 5366 objects are gradually making their way around the world on their final tour. Following successes in Los Angeles and Paris, it is London’s turn to hold the once in a lifetime opportunity to experience the wonder and mystery of the boy king.

Tutankhamun was an ancient Egyptian pharaoh who ruled at the end of the 18th dynasty (c. 1334 – 1325 BC). He took the throne at the tender age of nine after his father, Akhenaten (originally named Amenhotep IV) passed away. During Akhenaten’s reign, he had established an Aten cult, an ancient religion that deified the sun, dismissing other Egyptian gods. For this reason, the pharaoh renamed himself Akhenaten, meaning “effective for Aten.” He and his wife, known as “The Younger Lady”, named their son Tutankhaten, meaning “living image of Aten”. After Akhenaten’s death, the “boy king” dissolved the Aten cult and reinstated the cult of Amun, changing his name to Tutankhamun – “living image of Amun”. Amun is a major ancient Egyptian deity who may also be the equivalent of the Greek god Zeus.

When Tutankhamun became king, he married his half-sister Ankhesenpaaten, who subsequently changed her name to Ankhesenamun. Two mummified foetuses found in the same tomb as Tutankhamun suggests they had a couple of daughters, neither of whom survived. Data collected from the bodies reveals one was born prematurely at around 6 months of pregnancy, and the other was full term, however, suffered from Spina Bifidia, scoliosis and Sprengel’s deformity. Therefore, Tutankhamun, who died after a short reign of ten years, had no living heir.

Tutankhamun’s cause of death remains a mystery to this very day. His skeleton reveals he was physically disabled with a deformity in his left foot, which, judging by the number of walking sticks in the tomb, meant he needed assistance walking. He had other health issues including a cleft palate, scoliosis and several strains of malaria, however, it is not thought that any of these problems killed him. Xrays revealed Tutankhamun had a compound left leg fracture, which given the lack of modern medicine and technology, could have left Tutankhamun dead within a week. How the Pharoah received this wound can only be speculated.

As items in the tomb reveal, Tutankhamun was also known by his throne name Nebkheperure. During his reign, he commissioned new statues of deities that had been destroyed whilst his father was on the throne and began to restore the old Egyptian order. This involved renouncing the god Aten, changing his and his wife’s name and reinstating Egypt’s polytheistic religion.

Given his age, Tutankhamun presumably did not rule alone and would have had advisers, such as Ay (a possible great uncle), who became Pharaoh after the boy king’s death. Nonetheless, Tutankhamun was praised for his successes, as evidenced by the gifts from other countries found in his tomb.

Tutankhamun’s history may be brief and open to speculation, however, none of this would have been known at all if his tomb had not been discovered almost 100 years ago. Ay died after a short reign of four years and was replaced by Horemheb, who had been promised the throne if Tutankhamun had no children. For reasons unbeknownst, Horemheb ordered Tutankhamun’s name be hacked out of all monuments, often replacing it with his name. Tutankhamun was literally written out of history and his name forgotten. It is thanks to an Englishman by the name of Howard Carter that Tutankhamun is the most famous of all Egypt’s pharaohs.

Howard Carter was a British archaeologist and Egyptologist who rose to worldwide fame after discovering the intact tomb of Tutankhamun. Carter was born in Kensington, London on 9th May 1874 and received artistic training from his father Samuel John Carter (1835–92). Howard was the youngest of eleven children and spent much of his childhood with his relatives in Norfolk. Whilst there, Howard frequently visited Didlington Hall, which contained a large collection of Egyptian antiques. Seeing that he had a keen interest in the subject, one of the hall’s owners sent 17-year-old Carter to Beni Hasan in Egypt with the Egypt Exploration Fund to help excavate the tombs in the area.

Lord Carnarvon

During the 1890s, Carter helped to record the wall reliefs in the temple of Hatshepsut, the second historically-confirmed female ruler (1479-58 BC). At the end of the decade, he was appointed Chief Inspector of the Egyptian Antiquities Service and supervised several excavations at the ancient city of Thebes. He resigned from his position in 1905 due to arguments between Egyptian guards and French tourists. Fortunately, three years later, Carter met George Edward Stanhope Molyneux Herbert, 5th Earl of Carnarvon (1866 – 1923) who employed him to supervise the excavation of tombs opposite the city of Thebes.

In 1914, Lord Carnarvon got permission to dig in the Valley of Kings, where Egyptian pharaohs were buried between the 16th and 11th centuries BC. By then, knowledge of Tutankhamun’s existence had been unearthed in tombs of those who had died before him, i.e. in places Horemheb could not access to remove his name. Although World War One hindered the excavation work, Carter returned to the site in 1917, however, by 1922, Lord Carnarvon was dissatisfied with the lack of results.

Hussein Abdel-Rassoul

Carter convinced Lord Carnarvon to let him carry on working in the Valley of Kings for one more year. He instructed his workers to clear some ancient huts and the surrounding rock debris, however, when he arrived on the site on 4th November 1922, no one was working. Earlier that day, the team’s water boy Hussein Abdel-Rassoul had discovered a stone that turned out to be the first step of a flight of stairs. Having waited for Carter’s arrival, they assisted him to dig out the rest of the steps until reaching a mud-plastered doorway stamped with hieroglyphics. Wanting his employer to be there when the tomb was opened, Carter refilled the earth they had dug and sent a telegram to Lord Carnarvon who eventually arrived on 23rd November.

“At first I could see nothing, the hot air escaping from the chamber causing the candle flame to flicker, but presently, as my eyes grew accustomed to the light, details of the room emerged slowly from the mist, strange animals, statues, and gold – everywhere the glint of gold.”
– Howard Carter

Using a chisel he had been given by his grandmother when he was 17, with Lord Carnarvon and his daughter Lady Evelyn Herbert (1901-80) in tow, Carter made a small hole in the top left-hand corner of the doorway through which he could peer with the aid of a candle. “Can you see anything?” Lord Carnarvon asked. To which Carter responded with the famous words, “Yes, wonderful things!” Carter had discovered Tutankhamun’s tomb, later designated with the serial number KV62 (King’s Valley 62).

For the next few months, Carter painstakingly catalogued the items in the antechamber of the tomb, eventually making his way through another door that led to the burial chamber. In there, he unearthed the sarcophagus of Tutankhamun and, therefore, the remains of the pharaoh’s body. Work was suspended for a month in 1923 due to arguments about who owned the discovered items: Carnarvon, who paid for the expedition, or the Egyptian authorities. After a month, Carter resumed work but Lord Carnarvon soon became fatally ill.

Lord Carnarvon contracted blood poisoning from an infected insect bite on his cheek. As a result, he passed away in Cairo on 5th April 1923. Newspapers throughout the world were quick to pick up on the fact that Carnarvon’s facial infection resembled a wound on the cheek of Tutankhamun’s body – later confirmed to be caused by the excavation – and rumours of a curse surrounding the pharaoh’s cave spread like wildfire. Later deaths and mishaps involving some of the people who worked on the excavation were also linked to this fictitious curse. Even today, some Egyptologists feel the effects of the “curse” despite logic debunking the rumour.

Howard Carter, on the other hand, appeared immune to the supposed curse and continued to excavate and catalogue the items in the tomb. As well as the objects discovered in the passageway, there were four chambers full of “wonderful things”: the Antechamber, Burial Chamber, Treasury and Annex. Amongst the 5336 objects were items made from gold, silver, semiprecious stones, wood, ivory, linen and leather.

Despite being world-famous, Carter did not receive much recognition in his own country, however, in 1926 he received the Order of the Nile from King Fuad I of Egypt (1868-1936). Later, he was awarded an honorary degree of Doctor of Science by Yale University and honorary membership in the Real Academia de la Historia of Madrid.

Carter retired from archaeology after finishing with the tomb and began working as an agent for collectors and museums. He also published several books on Egyptology and delivered a series of lectures in Europe and America. Unfortunately, Carter developed Hodgkin’s Disease and passed away on 2nd March 1939 at the age of 64. Despite being world-famous for his discovery, very few people attended his funeral.

The majority of Carter’s finds are still in Egypt, however, the 150 items – at least 60 of which had never left Egypt before – currently in the Saatchi Gallery give a flavour of the type of objects found in the tomb. As can be expected, many of the items depict the boy king, celebrating his reign, such as a gilded wooden figure of Tutankhamun throwing a harpoon. Standing upon a papyrus raft, the pharoah appears ready to throw the weapon, presumably at a hippopotamus, which were widely hunted at the time. Hippos were a danger to human life and destroyed agricultural fields by flattening them with their heavy bodies. In Egyptian mythology, Seth, the god of chaos, often took the form of a hippo in the hopes of killing his brother Horus, however, he never succeeded.

A wooden statuette of Tutankhamun riding a leopard was placed in the tomb to aid him in the afterlife as he travelled to the next world. The netherworld was believed to be a dangerous place and the black leopard, associated with rebirth, was to guide and guard Tutankhamun on his journey. The statuette wears a tall white crown and holds a long staff, which symbolises authority, however, some people do not think the figure was originally intended to represent Tutankhamun. The statuette contains a few feminine qualities, including breasts, which suggests it was intended for a female king, for instance, Nefertiti. Dying so young, there had not been many preparations for Tutankhamun’s tomb, which may explain the appropriation of this object.

Other statues of the pharaoh depict him with a walking stick, alluding to his deformed foot. The number of walking sticks found in the tomb suggests Tutankhamun was reliant upon them to move around. Despite this disability, Tutankhamun was always depicted as an important, respect-worthy king. Even the damaged colossal quartzite statue that closes the exhibition demonstrates his importance. This dramatic statue was not found inside the tomb but may have once stood at Tutankhamun’s mortuary temple. This is one of the objects destroyed by Horemheb, who carved his name across the belt where Tutankhamun’s name would once have been.

Hidden amongst the treasures were objects that Tutankhamun may have used in his lifetime, as well as the walking sticks. Over seventy bows and four hundred arrows were buried with the king, some of which had been used and others that were just for show. The bow was a key weapon in Egyptian times and there were always expert archers in their armed forces. The varying sizes of the bows suggest Tutankhamun was taught to shoot from a very young age. There were also early forms of the boomerang, which were thrown at birds to knock them out of the sky.

The more elaborate bows were made from gilded wood and inlaid with coloured glass and calcite. Gold wire and sheet gold also ornamented the weapons and Tutankhamun’s throne name, Nebkheperure was inscribed in a band of gold on a few of the bows.

Some objects, such as a gilded wooden fan, contained carved images depicting Tutankhamun’s great achievements, albeit fictional ones. Being as disabled as his skeleton suggests, it is unlikely Tutankhamun shot arrows at ostriches from his fast-moving carriage. This scene is shown on one side of the fan, which was once fitted with the ostrich feathers from the animal the king had killed. On the other side, the image shows the king returning with the dead ostriches. It may be true that he shot them himself, but whether the event was as energetic as the artist suggests is uncertain.

A ceremonial shield was discovered in the Annex of the tomb, which portrayed Tutankhamun as a sphinx: a human-headed lion. Due to the elaborate design, this shield would not have been suitable in battle but would have been present at ceremonial or ritual occasions. The Egyptian sphinx was a benevolent being with ferocious strength, which is how Egypt wished to view its kings. On the shield, the sphinx/Tutankhamun tramples on a couple of Nubians, an ethnolinguistic group of Africans, as an expression of the Egyptian view that the world belonged to the pharaoh.

Other elements on the shield include a fan, similar to the ostrich fan, which emphasises Tutankhamun’s royal title; a winged sun disk that protectively stretches over the king; and a falcon, representing Montu, the god of war.

The Egyptian gods were an important aspect of both life and death, therefore, it was unsurprising that Carter found many references to them in Tutankhamun’s tomb. There were over 2000 deities in the Egyptian pantheon, some whose names are still recognised today: Isis, Osiris, Horus, Ra, Hathor, Thoth and so on. Some gods were only worshipped in particular areas, however, others were worshipped throughout Egypt. Horus was one of these and appeared in Tutankhamun’s tomb in several different forms.

In one figure, Horus was depicted as a hawk with a sun disc on its head. In another, he was the half-bird half-human Herwer (Horus the Elder). Horus was a powerful sun god, sometimes referred to as Horakhty (Horus of the Two Horizons) and Horemakhet (Horus in the Horizon). He was the son of Isis and Osiris, therefore also called Harsiesis (Horus, Son of Isis) and Harpocrates (Horus the Child). Egyptian mythology states Osiris, the heir to the throne, was murdered by his brother Seth but was briefly resurrected by Isis during which time they conceived a son. Osiris eventually travelled to the netherworld to reign as king of the dead, whilst Isis endeavoured to keep their son Horus out of his uncle’s clutches. When Horus grew up, he battled against Seth and emerged victorious, taking his rightful place on the throne. Due to this story, Horus was sometimes used as a symbol of the king, which explains why he was prominent in Tutankhamun’s tomb.

In total, the tomb contained hundreds of figurines, many of them intended to help Tutankhamun in the afterlife. The netherworld resembled the living world, including fields, farms and towns, therefore, the dead were buried with shabtis (servant figures) that would activate in the afterlife and accomplish any unpleasant task the deceased faced. Buried with Tutankhamun was an enormous workforce that provided a servant for every day of the year as well as an overseer for every ten workers and a supervisor for every three overseers.

Each shabti was unique, for example, one was painted to resemble the king, whereas another looked more like the Nubian mercenaries that served in the Egyptian army. The costumes were rather elaborate for servants but it identified them as belonging to Tutankhamun. Some of the wooden figures wore painted gold clothing, complete with royal symbols and hieroglyphs.

Many of the items left in the tomb were to assist Tutankhamun in the afterlife. Boxes full of food, including meat and fruit were left with the body so that the dead would not starve on their journey. Some of the comestibles, such as herbs and seeds, may have been some form of medication, insinuating Tutankhamun had been a rather sickly person. It appears not even death would cure the king of his ailments.

The foodstuffs were preserved in nondescript boxes, however, Carter also discovered many decorated ones. On the floor of the Treasury was a wooden cartouche box decorated with ivory and ebony symbols. Rather than writing Tutankhamun’s birth name, the craftsman has used symbols to represent the Pharoah. For example, two loaves of bread and a quail chick spell out Tut, and a reed leaf, a game board and a water sign represent Amun, the god who Tutankhamun revered.

Not all the boxes were specifically made to place in a tomb, for example, the semi-circular box found in the Antechamber. Wear and tear suggest the box may have been used during Tutankhamun’s lifetime, for example, to transport written papyrus documents from place to place. Not only was it not intended for the tomb, but it also was not made for Tutankhamun either. Although Tutankhamun’s name has been added to the box, the original inscription gave the names of his predecessor Ankhkheperure and his half-sister Meritaten.

Tutankhamun’s wealth and status were clear from the amount of gold, silver and jewels discovered in his tomb. Hundreds of jewellery items were found in boxes in the Treasury, many which may have been gifted, worn by the pharaoh, or left in the tomb for protection in the afterlife. Every piece of jewellery was symbolic in some way, for instance, a lapis lazuli beetle, which represented the sun god.

A vulture represented the deity Nekhbet, the patron goddess of Upper Egypt where Tutankhamun reigned. The pendant is ornately decorated with gold, lapis lazuli, turquoise and coloured glass befitting of a king. In each of the bird’s claws is a tiny necklace containing the king’s throne name, proving it was made specifically for Tutankhamun.

Another bird used in jewellery was a falcon with upswept wings. Typically, bird pendants have their heads turned to one side, but in one version the bird faces forward as though looking at the viewer. A carnelian round sun upon the falcon’s head suggests it is representative of Horus and the bird also carried two pendants in its talons, also indicative of the sun.

“A man dies twice — once when the last breath leaves his body, and again when his name is spoken for the last time.” (Paraphrased)

When Horemheb became pharaoh and tried to write Tutankhamun out of history, he was also trying to cause Tutankhamun’s second death. The ancient Egyptian’s believed a man died when his soul left his body but was still considered alive as long as his name was spoken. Due to Howard Carter’s discovery of the missing tomb, Horemheb’s plan was thwarted. Tutankhamun is now the most famous of all the pharaohs and, if the size of the crowds queueing to see the exhibition is anything to go by, his name will never be forgotten. Thanks to Carter and the world’s continued interest, Tutankhamun has been made immortal.

Tutankhamun: Treasures of the Golden Pharaoh attracted over 1.4 million visitors when it was displayed in France. The London exhibition is expected to reach similar records, which is no surprise considering Tutankhamun’s fame and the fact that this is the final opportunity to see the artefacts outside of Egypt. As well as seeing 150 objects, visitors can opt to take part in a Virtual Reality experience in which they dive into a computer-generated version of Tutankhamun’s tomb and have a look around.

Adult tickets are priced between £24.50 and £28.50 and are selling fast, so do not delay booking your timed entry. Due to popularity, the gallery is operating on a timed entry system and it may take up to thirty minutes to get through security. The average length of stay is 90 minutes.