Hello readers, it’s Simeon the red-haired gibbon (toffee coloured, if you please). I have taken over Hazel’s blog this week to wish you a happy Christmas and to tell you about my amazing year. This year, you will have read about my visit to the city of Bath, my trip to Cardiff, and my Treasure Trail around London, but I have so much more to tell you.
On 26th June 2022, I opened an Instagram account to share photos from my holidays with friends. Before I knew it, hundreds of teddies and animals like me were following my updates. As of writing, I have over 1,050 followers from all over the world. I am, quite frankly, an international superstar.
My Instagram adventure began just before the heat wave set in, and it was too hot to go out, so I shared some old photographs from my trips to Amsterdam and Antwerp. My followers began to grow, and I made many new friends, so I thought it was time to upload some up-to-date pictures.
Just as I was setting up my camera for a photoshoot, I discovered I had caught Covid! What a disaster! I broke the news to my fans followers, who showered me with sympathy. Of course, my humans were sick too, so I didn’t get much compassion from them!
Before I could complain about the lack of attention my humans were paying me, a parcel arrived with some intriguing contents. On the 12th August 2022, my life changed forever. I became a big brother! Nestled inside the box was an adorable little sloth called Sammy.
Sammy and I instantly became best friends, and he features in many of my Instagram posts. He is loved by my followers, although not as much as me, for his funny idiosyncrasies, for example, he thinks everything is a hat. Toilet rolls, socks, trousers, wrapping paper tubes, sweets and so forth, if Sammy can fit or balance it on his head, he will. Sammy is also very good at finding things, which he proudly presents to me, such as stickers, a sword (it was a pencil), a tin of marrowfat peas, glasses, a model of a tortoise, and a necklace. Sammy’s “treasure” is becoming quite a collection!
My Instagram account is called the Adventures of Simeon, so it is only fair that I continue to have adventures without my little brother tagging along. At the end of August, my Human Friend and I took my Human Dad to London to complete a Treasure Tail. You can read all about it here. I have completed many Treasure Trails over the past few years and hope to tackle many more in the future. The owners of Treasure Trails follow me on Instagram, and I have been featured on their page! That’s how famous I am now!
This year, I completed three Treasure Trails. I did the first one in Bath at Easter time, the London one in August, and a third in September. The third coincided with my holiday to Cardiff, but I had extra help with this one, although I am sure I could have done it alone. My Humans and I were halfway to Wales when I discovered Sammy had snuck into my backpack! How cheeky!
Unfortunately, my trip to Cardiff started a couple of days after the death of Queen Elizabeth II, so many places were closed for mourning, such as Cardiff Castle and the cathedral. Nonetheless, we found plenty to do, including Caerphilly Castle, Castell Coch, St Fagans National History Museum and bus trips around Cardiff. We met some humans who adored us (well, who wouldn’t?) and tried the food at many restaurants. We even had a posh meal at The Ivy!
On our final day in Cardiff, the King came to see us! Well, not just us, everyone. People started queuing outside Cardiff Castle at 3 am, hoping to catch a glimpse of Charles III. Only a select number of people were allowed into the castle grounds, and we did not think we stood a chance, so we went on an hour boat trip instead. When we returned, the queue had disappeared, but we were told there was still room in the castle for a few more people, gibbons and sloths, so without hesitation, in we went.
We had to wait a while, but eventually, we were rewarded with a glimpse of the new King, who waved to the crowd before entering the castle to talk to important people. During the wait, we had our photo taken with the Royal Welsh Guards and a horse. We also saw soldiers marching and playing instruments, and a goat, who was not playing an instrument.
Normality briefly resumed on our return to London until 21st October, when I gained another little brother! Ollie the baby otter was rescued from eBay by my Human Dad after being inspired by The Little Book of Otter Philosophy by Jennifer McCartney. Ollie is very mischievous, although I am not sure he does anything naughty on purpose. He is very good at climbing up things, which is rather strange for an otter, but he has not learnt how to get back down again. If food goes missing, it is because Ollie has taken it, but to get it back, you have to find him first. Ollie is very good at hide and seek!
It is hard work being the older, responsible brother, which made me wonder how old I am. After careful calculations, we worked out I was born on 17th November 2007. Not only did this make me feel very grown up, it meant it was nearly my 15th birthday! This year, I had my very first birthday party. It was a surprise, and many friends came over to play games. I received a badge from one friend that said, “It’s my birthday,” and a set of clothes from another. I was a very lucky gibbon.
Sammy and Ollie frequently appear with me on my Instagram account. Both are much loved by my followers, although not as much as me, obviously. We have had lots of fun taking photos of each other, and we have also filmed the occasional video.
At the end of November, I went to a Christmas Tree Festival where I met the REAL Father Christmas. I told him I had been a very good gibbon and would be grateful if he visited me this year. I also let him know that all my friends and followers were good boys and girls. I hope you all receive something nice this year. Later, I received a letter from Father Christmas confirming that he will visit me! It says:
Dear Simeon, Things are really busy here at the North Pole, and Christmas is going to be here before we know it! I can’t wait! On Christmas Eve, I’m coming to your house in London first! Be sure you’re in bed and asleep with those big adorable eyes closed. Remember, I can’t deliver presents unless you’re fast asleep. By the way, all the elves wanted me to tell you they said, “Hello”. They also wanted me to share with you what they had for lunch today. They were so excited when I told them you liked bananas too! Mrs. Claus and I were talking about you last night at dinner and how proud we are of you for looking after your baby brother, Ollie. You should be proud of yourself! I know it can be hard sometimes, but remember to always use your manners and treat people the way you would want them to treat you! I have to remind the elves of that, too. Did you know that I have a list of all the boys and girls in the world? Well, it looks like you’ve been a very good boy! So you’re on the nice list again! Mrs. Claus and I just can’t get over the fact that you’re 15 years old already. I can hardly wait to see you and your brother, Sammy. I’m sorry to say, but I must be going now. One of the elves just came into my office and needs a helping hand in the workshop. Merry Christmas to you and your family! Take care, Santa
The year went from being the hottest on record to freezing cold in a matter of days. Fortunately, Sammy, Ollie and I have lots of fur to keep us warm. In mid-December, we woke up to discover the world had turned white with snow. It was very exciting! We were allowed to go outside and play, but we only lasted 8 minutes before we felt cold and damp. We decided it was safer to watch the snow through the window!
Now it is nearly Christmas day, and we are looking forward to spending it with Hazel and her family. We also hope there may be something for us under the Christmas tree too! If Hazel lets me, I will write again next year and perhaps go on a few more Treasure Trails. Until then, you are welcome to follow my adventures on Instagram at @theadventuresofsimeon. If you do not have Instagram, you can see my most recent photographs here.
Dear Simeon, Norway has gifted our Queen a majestic pet of a polar bear. Her Majesty has given permission for the incredible creature to swim along the Thames between London Bridge and Tower Bridge to hunt for fish and stretch his big, fluffy, white legs. The other day, the royal pet came back from his paddle with something stuck between his teeth … it’s a treasure map of the long-lost mysterious island of Bridges! It’s no surprise that the Palace has tasked YOU to find out where the gold and gems are hidden, after all, you are the world’s most famous treasure hunter. You will need to venture on this epic journey, solving clues scribbled on the back of the map and avoiding booby traps to pinpoint the exact location of the treasure. Good luck, Simeon!
Simeon, the red-haired gibbon (toffee-coloured, if you please), was intrigued to read these instructions while having his elevensies in a cafe on Tooley Street near London Bridge Station. Fortunately, Simeon was only a stone’s throw away from the start of the Treasure Trail, so after finishing his cup of tea, Simeon set off on his search for clues.
To solve his first clue, Simeon carefully climbed down the steps belonging to the 1831 London Bridge designed by John Rennie (1761-1821) and built by his son of the same name (1794-1874). Not only are these stairs very old, but they are also the location of the murder of Nancy in Charles Dicken’s (1812-70) book Oliver Twist (1837). Fortunately, there was no sign of the criminal Bill Sikes, so Simeon safely reached the bottom of the staircase.
The current London Bridge is one of many that have spanned the River Thames since the Romans built the first one around 2,000 years ago. The original may have had a drawbridge in the centre to allow ships to pass, but today’s bridge does not have this feature.
Simeon quickly hastened across the bridge, staying away from the edges so that he would not fall into the river. He was a little nervous after hearing that the British warship HMS Jupiter collided with London Bridge in 1984. The Leander-class frigate of the Royal Navy weighed 16,060, approximately the same as 3,200 elephants, so the collision caused a lot of damage. The ship’s captain, Commander Colin Hamilton, was severely reprimanded for the accident.
The first bridge, built around 50 AD, was a wooden pontoon bridge made from several barges that floated on the river. Naturally, this bridge did not last long, and another was constructed in 59 AD. This time, the Romans used long poles known as piles to lift the bridge above the water level. The surrounding area became a small trading settlement, which grew into the town of Londinium. Unfortunately, the second bridge was destroyed in 60 AD by Queen Boudicca of the Celtic Iceni tribe. Although the bridge did not survive, the Romans fought back and defeated the rebels. After this, they built a wall around the town, some of which still survives today, and another bridge.
At the end of Roman rule in Britain, Londinium was abandoned, and the wall, buildings and bridge fell into disrepair. Some claim Alfred the Great (849-899) built another bridge in 878 AD, but others suggest this was Sweyn Forkbeard, father of Cnut the Great (d. 1035). Regardless of its creator, Norse poetry records the destruction of the bridge in 1014 by Olaf II Haraldsson (995-1030), the King of Norway. In Saxon literature about the Battle of Brentford, fought in 1016 between the English led by Edmund Ironside (990-1016) and the Danes led by Cnut, there is mention of a bridge crossing the Thames, which suggests another had been built.
Records reveal that William the Conqueror (1028-87) built a new London Bridge after the Norman Conquest in 1066. His son, William II (1050-1100), repaired or replaced it during his reign, only for it to be destroyed by fire in 1136. King Stephen (1096-1154) built a new one, and Henry II (1133-89) created the “Brethren of the Bridge” to oversee repairs and maintenance.
In 1170, following the murder of Saint Thomas Becket, the repentant Henry II commissioned a new bridge from stone rather than wood, upon which a chapel stood in memory of the martyr. Building works began in 1176 and continued during the reign of King John (1166-1216). In addition to the chapel, several houses and shops spanned the distance across the Thames. Money from the rent helped maintain the bridge. By the late 14th century, the bridge had reached its capacity of 140 houses. Presumably, several of these later merged because, by 1605, there were only 91. Descriptions of the buildings from the 17th century suggest they had four or more storeys, including a shop on the ground floor.
Simeon wishes he could have seen the bridge with all the shops and houses, but sadly several fires made the upkeep of the bridge impossible. These fires destroyed sections of the bridge over the years, and the houses were gradually demolished for safety purposes. The last house was pulled down in 1761.
In 1799, architects and engineers entered a competition to design a new London Bridge to replace the medieval one. Whilst Thomas Telford’s (1757-1834) proposal was deemed the safest, it would result in the demolition of many neighbouring buildings. Instead, John Rennie the Elder (1761-1821) won the competition with his conventional five-stone-arches design. Rennie had previously designed Waterloo Bridge further along the river, which featured nine equal arches. Unfortunately, Rennie died before work on the new London Bridge began, so the construction was overseen by his son, John Rennie the Younger (1794-1874).
The new London Bridge opened in 1831 and soon became the busiest point in London, with over 8,000 pedestrians and 900 vehicles crossing every hour. Unfortunately, by the 1920s, the bridge was sinking into the riverbed, and talks began about replacing it. Due to costs, nothing much happened for a few decades until Ivan Luckin of the Common Council of the City of London suggested selling the bridge in 1968. Robert P. McCulloch (1911-1977) of McCulloch Oil purchased it for $2,460,000, and the bridge was carefully disassembled and sent to Arizona, where it was reconstructed over Lake Havasu.
The current bridge, or the “New New London Bridge”, as Simeon jokingly calls it, was designed by Baron William Holford (1907-1975) and opened in 1973. It cost £4 million to build, which equates to roughly £60.1 million today. “No wonder they were not happy when HMS Jupiter collided with it in 1984!” exclaimed Simeon.
Shortly after crossing over London Bridge, the clues led Simeon to a church, where he thought he would stop for a rest before carrying on his journey. Peeking through the door into the sanctuary, Simeon almost jumped out of his fur when he came face-to-face with a Viking! Fortunately, it was only a statue, so Simeon bravely entered the building for a closer look.
On closer inspection, Simeon discovered the Viking was Magnus Erlendsson, Earl of Orkney (1080-1115), also known as Saint Magnus the Martyr, to whom the church is dedicated. Magnus’ father, Erland, and his uncle Paul were the joint rulers of the Orkney islands off the northeast of Scotland. When he was young, Magnus and his cousin Hakon were kidnapped by King Magnus Barefoot of Norway (1073-1103) and forced to serve aboard a pirate ship. Magnus resisted because piracy went against his Christian values, so he spent his time on board singing psalms and praying. Eventually, Magnus escaped and sought asylum at the court of Malcolm III of Scotland (d. 1093).
When Magnus Barefoot died in 1103, Magnus and Hakon returned to the Orkneys, where they began jointly ruling in 1106. Unfortunately, the power-hungry Hakon wanted full control of the islands and, by 1114, was prepared to battle for the title. Not wanting to fight, Magnus agreed to hold peace negotiations on the Island of Egilsay in c.1115, but instead of reconciliation, Hakon ordered his cousin’s murder. Magnus tried to take refuge in a church, but Hakon’s soldiers captured him. The soldiers refused to kill Magnus despite Hakon’s demands. Instead, Hakon forced his cook to strike Magnus over the head with an axe.
The Church of St Magnus the Martyr was built in the Baroque style of Sir Christopher Wren (1632-1723) following the Great Fire of London in 1666, which destroyed the original church on the site. Due to its proximity to Old Billingsgate Market, a famous fish market, the church became the guild church of the Worshipful Company of Fishmongers. It is also the guild church of the Worshipful Company of Plumbers and the ward church of the Ward of Bridge and Bridge Without.
Although a church has existed on the site for around 900 years, it was not dedicated to St Magnus until the 20th century. Initially, the church considered dedicating the building to the Roman saint of Cæsarea until the famous Danish archaeologist Professor Jens Jacob Asmussen Worsaae (1821-85) proposed St Magnus while conducting research about the Vikings in Britain. Support for the latter proposal increased after the discovery of St Magnus of Orkney’s relics in 1919. After much discussion, the dedication to St Magnus took place in April 1926.
During Simeon’s exploration of the church, he came across many exciting things, most notably a model of Old London Bridge by David T. Aggett (1930-2021), a liveryman of the Worshipful Company of Plumbers. Aggett’s phenomenal attention to detail reveals the precariously balanced medieval buildings and over 900 miniature figures, showing how crowded the bridge was on a daily basis. Amongst the crowds is King Henry V (1386-1422), processing from Southwark to the City of London.
Aside from the model of the bridge and the statue of St Magnus, there are several artworks in the church, including iconic paintings of the Virgin Mary. A statue of Our Lady of Walsingham references the village where the Virgin allegedly appeared to Richeldis de Faverches, a devout noblewoman, in 1061. On the other side of the church is a monument to Myles Coverdale (1488-1569), an English preacher who produced the first complete printed translation of the Bible into English. Other dedicated items are dotted around the church, including stained glass windows, but Simeon had no time to investigate everything. He had treasure to locate!
After leaving the church, Simeon hurried through Old Billingsgate Market, which thankfully no longer smells of fish, and past a church called All Hallows by the Tower until he reached the Tower of London. Due to the temporary Superbloom event, the area in front of the Tower was much more crowded than usual, making searching for clues harder for Simeon, but he was not deterred. Until 18th September 2022, the water-less moat of the Tower is open to the public. In honour of the Queen’s platinum jubilee, over 20 million flower seeds were sown in the moat to create beautiful gardens, including the Queen’s Garden, inspired by her 1953 coronation gown. Simeon had a quick glance down into the moat in case any clues had fallen in and spotted a few (thankfully pretend) fierce lions. He did not spot any polar bears (or gibbons), despite knowing that Henry III was given a white bear by the King of Norway in 1252.
At the side of the Tower of London, Simeon spotted a curious set of stairs leading into the River Thames. Known as the “Queen’s Stairs”, this was once the main entrance to the Tower for important visitors. Anne Boleyn (1507-36) entered the Tower here from a boat to prepare for her coronation as Queen and marriage to Henry VIII (1491-1547). Further along the river, Simeon came across “Traitor’s Gate”, where Anne Boleyn entered the Tower for the final time. All traitors were brought into the Tower through this gate as prisoners, subjected to a trial, and received their punishment. Unfortunately for Anne, she had her head chopped off. With fur standing on end, Simeon hurried away from the Tower before he could suffer the same fate!
Simeon’s next task was to cross back over the river via Tower Bridge. This was even scarier than London Bridge because Tower Bridge is a bascule bridge, meaning it can swing upwards to let large boats pass beneath. After double checking no large boats were heading his way, Simeon began the 240-metre walk across the Thames.
Commercial development in the East End of London rapidly increased in the 19th century, leading to the requirement of another river crossing downstream from London Bridge. In 1877, the Special Bridge or Subway Committee held a design competition, which more than 50 architects and engineers entered. Many bridge concepts were rejected due to insufficient headroom, so the winning design was not chosen until 1884, when civil engineer Sir John Wolfe Barry (1836-1918) proposed a bascule bridge. Working alongside the designer Sir Horace Jones (1819-87), Barry developed the plans to include two Gothic-style towers, joined together by two horizontal walkways around 60 metres above the surface of the water.
Construction of Tower Bridge began in 1886, and officially opened in 1894. The construction cost £1,184,000, equivalent to over £143 million today. During the Second World War, Tower Bridge became a target for enemy action because it was a major transport link across the Thames. In 1940, the high-level walkways took a direct hit, putting the bridge out of action for some time. Another bomb caused damage to the towers and engine room, which contained the hydraulic machinery to power the bascules. Fortunately, by the end of the war, Tower Bridge remained standing but needed significant repairs.
Since 1982, the two towers and high-level walkways have been open to the public as part of the Tower Bridge Exhibition. Simeon did not have time to investigate on this occasion but has heard about the great views across London from the top. After reaching the opposite bank of the Thames, Simeon hurried off to search for more clues in the historic riverside street, Shad Thames. Known now for restaurants and luxurious apartments, Shad Thames once contained the largest warehouse complex in London. In Victorian times, the warehouses stored tea, coffee, and many spices, such as vanilla, cinnamon, ginger, anise and coriander.
Shad Thames has featured in many films and television shows, including Oliver! (1968), Doctor Who (1984), A Fish Called Wanda (1988), Bridget Jones’s Diary (2001), Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (2007), Run Fat Boy Run (2007), and Cruella (2021). Simeon did not see any camera crews, but he made sure to be on his best behaviour just in case.
In Horselydown Square, just off Shad Thames, Simeon discovered an impressive water feature by the British painter and sculptor Antony Donaldson (b. 1938). Created in 1991, Waterfall features a copper cistern from which water flows over the edge. Six life-size, bronze female figures in various poses cling to the cistern, while a seventh reclines on the surrounding wall.
Averting his eyes from the unclothed figures, Simeon took great interest in other bronze objects around the fountain wall. Simeon found a camera, wallet, watch, sunglasses, shoes, and a pile of books, all presumably belonging to the women playing in the water.
Simeon’s next set of clues took him to Potters Field Park between Tower Bridge and City Hall. The name originates from the many potters working in the area during the 17th and 18th century, such as Pickleherring Pottery, established in 1618 by Christian Wilhelm. Between 1618 and 1710, 124 potters operated in the area, which decreased to 68 between 1710 and 1733. Since 1772, pottery making has disappeared from the area, but their memory lives on in the name of the park, which opened in 1988.
Further along the Thames is Hay’s Galleria, where Simeon looked for some of his final clues. Originally a warehouse known as Hay’s Wharf, the galleria gets its name from Alexander Hay, who owned a brewery on the site in 1651. When John Humphrey acquired the property in the 1840s, he commissioned the English engineering contractor and future Lord Mayor William Cubitt (1791-1863) to convert it into a wharf. Hay’s Wharf became one of the chief delivery points for tea in London, and at its height, received around 80% of the dry produce imported to London, earning it the nickname ‘the Larder of London’.
Hay’s Wharf remained in use until the Second World War when it suffered severe bomb damage. Attempts to rebuild the wharf were thwarted by modern shipping techniques, such as containerisation, and Hay’s Wharf officially closed in 1970. The majority of the old dockland areas were purchased by St Martin’s Property Corporation, and Hay’s Wharf was converted into Hay’s Galleria. Hay’s Galleria housed a year-round market and became a popular tourist attraction. Permanent traders sold souvenirs and jewellery from stalls until 2010 when they were removed and replaced with more traditional shop formats. Hay’s Galleria also features restaurants, flats and offices.
Finally, Simeon reached the location of his final clue and discovered the whereabouts of the mysterious Island of Bridges. After reporting back to Treasure Trails, Simeon received his well-deserved certificate. Treasure Trails provide adventure, mystery and spy trails all across Great Britain. Whilst Simeon always has fun solving the clues, he also enjoys learning about the area, as do his human companions.
To purchase A Tale of Two Bridges from Treasure Trails, click here.
Until 18th September 2022, Tate Britain is exhibiting the works of Walter Sickert, one of Britain’s most influential artists of the 20th century. Taught by James Abbott McNeill Whistler (1834-1903) and influenced by Edgar Degas (1834-1917), Sickert became a prominent figure in the transition from Impressionism to Modernism. As painting techniques developed in Britain, so did Sickert’s artwork, and he was not afraid to depict the lives of ordinary people and places rather than the idealised scenes of yesteryear.
Walter Richard Sickert was born on 31st May 1860 in Munich, Germany, although neither of his parents were German. His father, Oswald Sickert (1828-85), was a Danish painter of landscapes and genre scenes who travelled to Munich for his studies. Sickert’s mother, Eleanor Louisa Henry, was the daughter of the English astronomer Richard Sheepshanks (1794-1855). Following the German annexation of Schleswig-Holstein when Sickert was eight years old, the family moved to London and obtained British nationality.
Sickert initially attended University College School, an independent school in Hampstead established by the philosopher Jeremy Bentham (1748-1832), but transferred to King’s College School in Wimbledon at the age of 11. Despite his father’s artistic influence, Sickert initially pursued a career in acting and joined Sir Henry Irving’s (1838-1905) company. After taking on minor roles in a few productions, Sickert switched to studying art.
After a short attendance at the Slade School of Art in 1882, Sickert left to become a pupil and assistant of James Whistler. Many of Sickert’s early works were influenced by Whistler, particularly the art of painting alla prima (literally “at first attempt“), which meant layering wet paint upon wet paint rather than waiting for individual layers to dry. The technique allowed Sickert to paint from nature and capture images quickly.
Sickert’s painting technique changed after he travelled to France in 1883 and became the mentee of Edgar Degas, who encouraged him to plan his paintings with preliminary drawings. Sickert began using a grid system and leaving layers to dry between coats.
Under Degas’ guidance, Sickert’s paid attention to individual components of a painting, resulting in precise details rather than the blurred outlines of his earlier work. Sickert preferred sombre colours, although Degas tried to persuade him to introduce brighter tones. Sickert’s previous training focused on Impressionism, a style often painted en plein air, but Degas persuaded Sickert to work with drawings and memory in a studio to focus more on the artwork’s details. Sickert took this advice on board, and many of his future works were created in a studio, sometimes using photographs as a reference.
In 1888, Sickert joined the New English Art Club (NEAC), an alternative organisation to the Royal Academy, influenced primarily by French artists. Founded in 1885, the NEAC held annual exhibitions at the Egyptian Hall in Piccadilly, London. Whilst the Royal Academy preferred traditional painting methods, the NEAC embraced Impressionism and other figurative styles. Ironically, the NEAC continues to exhibit similar artworks at the Mall Galleries, whereas the RA has embraced abstract and conceptual art. Some of the artists belonging to the NEAC included John Singer Sargent (1856-1925), Thomas Benjamin Kennington (1856-1916), William Orpen (1878-1931), and Neville Bulwer-Lytton (1879-1951).
Inspired by his previous career ambitions, Sickert’s first major works after joining the NEAC focused on the stage, including theatres, music halls, café concerts and the advent of cinema. One example, which Tate Britain used for the exhibition’s promotional material, is Little Dot Hetherington at the Bedford Music Hall (1888-9). Sickert frequently depicted the Old Bedford on Camden High Street in his paintings. In this scene, Sickert captured Hetherington singing The Boy I Love is Up in the Gallery, a music hall song written in 1885 by George Ware (1829-95).
Sickert also painted other examples of entertainment, including the circus. The Trapeze (1920) depicts an acrobat from the Cirque Rancy preparing to start her performance. Established by Théodore Rancy (1818-92) in the 19th century, the Cirque Rancy was a group of travelling circus acts across France. Still existing today is the Cirque Jules-Verne of Amiens, established in 1889 under the presidency of French writer Jules Verne (1828-1905). Sickert probably experienced the delights of the circus while living in Dieppe.
Other examples of entertainment in Sickert’s artwork include British Pierrots at Brighton, providing tourists with wartime relief, and orchestras performing from the pits of theatres. In the early 20th century, some music halls became early forms of cinemas, such as Middlesex Music Hall on Drury Lane, London. Using projectors and large white sheets or screens, the Old Mogul, as the hall was nicknamed, occasionally played films during their evening schedule. Sickert’s painting Gallery of the Old Mogul (1906) depicts men clambering to see the screen from the gallery. Only a tiny portion of the film is visible in the painting, but art historians believe it was one of the first Westerns ever shown. It could potentially be The Great Train Robbery (1903), which is generally considered the first of the genre.
During the 1880s, Sickert spent a lot of time in the French commune Dieppe on the coast of the English Channel. It is suspected that Sickert kept a mistress in Dieppe and potentially an illegitimate son. Artists at the time were known for having numerous mistresses, but Sickert also had three wives. He married his first wife, Ellen Cobden, in 1885 but divorced her after four years. He married his second wife, Christine Angus, in 1911 and remained with her until she died in 1920. In 1926, Sickert married the artist Thérèse Lessore (1884-1945), with whom he was still married at his death in 1942.
While in Dieppe in the 1880s, Sickert produced landscapes of the streets and buildings, including the church of St Jacques. Inspired by Claude Monet, Sickert painted the same scenes at different times of the day, exploring the effects of daylight on the architecture. In 1902, the owner of L’Hôtel de la Plage commissioned a series of paintings, which included a scene depicting bathers on the nearby beach. For reasons unknown, Bathers, Dieppe was never installed at the hotel. Instead, Sickert exhibited it at the Salon des Indépendants in 1903.
Between 1894 and 1904, Sickert visited Venice several times. During these trips, he focused on painting the city’s topography. He was particularly fascinated with St Mark’s Basilica, which like the church in Dieppe, he painted several times. Due to inclement weather during his last trip, Sickert began painting indoor scenes featuring groups of people. He continued exploring this theme on his return to Britain, using friends, professional models and possibly prostitutes to create tableaux from which to paint.
In the early 20th century, Sickert started painting nudes. Rather than depicting the idealised female body, he painted working-class women in dimly-lit rooms with crumpled bed sheets. Instead of glamorising nudity, Sickert’s artwork suggested poverty. When he first exhibited these paintings in Paris in 1905, they were well-received, but at the British exhibition in 1911, critics objected to the subject matter.
In 1907, Sickert became fascinated with the Camden Town Murder Case. In September of that year, the part-time prostitute Emily Dimmock was murdered in her bed by a client or lover. After having sex, the man slit Dimmock’s throat while she slept. Her body was discovered by her partner and the murder quickly became a press sensation. Causing controversy, Sickert renamed four of his previous nude paintings The Camden Town Murder. Each artwork featured a naked woman and a fully-clothed man, and although there were no signs of violence, the new titles gave the scenes a new interpretation. One painting shows a woman asleep on a bed while a man bows his head in thought. Originally called What Shall We Do for the Rent, the audience perceives the man as worried about money troubles; yet under the title The Camden Town Murder, the man may be psychologically preparing himself for the horrible act.
Shortly before the First World War, Sickert founded the Camden Town Group of British painters, named after the area of London he resided in at the time. Members met regularly at Sickert’s studio and mostly consisted of Post-Impressionist artists, including Lucien Pissarro (1863-1944), Wyndham Lewis (1882-1957), Spencer Frederick Gore (1878-1914), and Ethel Sands (1873-1962). The artists were influenced by the work of Vincent van Gogh (1853-90) and Paul Gauguin (1848-1903), who worked in heavy impasto. Sickert’s paintings of nudes are evidence of this style of art.
From 1908 to 1912 and 1915 to 1918, Sickert taught at the Westminster School of Art. The school was originally based in the Deans Yard, but by the time Sickert joined the staff, it had merged with Angela Burdett-Coutts‘s (1814-1906) Westminster Technical Institute in Vincent Square. Between Sickert’s two spells at the school, he established the Rowlandson House in London and another in Manchester. Unfortunately, they closed due to the outbreak of the First World War.
Following the death of his second wife, Sickert spent some time in Dieppe, concentrating once again on buildings and groups of people, particularly in cafes. After returning to England, Sickert became an Associate of the Royal Academy in 1924 and married Thérèse Lessore in 1926. Shortly after his marriage, Sickert became unwell, potentially suffering a minor stroke. The illness marked a change in Sickert’s artwork, and he also decided to go by his middle name Richard rather than Walter.
Sickert stopped drawing from life and began painting photographs taken by his wife or those found in newspapers, such as King Edward VIII (1894-1972) arriving at a church service in 1936. Most cameras only captured images in black and white, so the colours in Sickert’s paintings are based on memory or imagination. He used the tonal contrasts in the photograph to determine colour hues and shadow.
Although Sickert only worked from photographs, he continued to receive commissions, such as from Winston Churchill (1874-1965) and his wife Clementine (1885-1977). Sickert met Clementine in Dieppe when she was only 14, where she was struck by Sickert’s handsomeness. Before she could act on her attraction to Sickert, Clementine’s family returned to England, but she remained in touch with Sickert and his family. After introducing Churchill to Sickert, Clementine’s husband commissioned an informal portrait and asked Sickert for advice about painting.
Sickert’s passion for the theatre never left him. Using photographs from newspaper reviews or promotional materials, Sickert painted several actors and scenes from shows. In 1932, Sickert depicted the British actress Gwen Ffrangcon-Davies (1891-1992) as Isabella of France in the play Edward II by Christopher Marlowe (1564-93). Sickert included the photograph’s caption La Louvre, meaning “the she-wolf”, which describes the fierce character of King Edward II’s wife.
Other theatre scenes Sickert painted included Edith Evans (1888-1976) as Katherine and Leslie Banks (1890-1952) as Petruchio in William Shakespeare‘s (1564-1616) The Taming of the Shrew. The play opened in London in 1937 at the New Theatre, which is now called the Noël Coward Theatre. Sickert based his painting on a press photograph. He also painted stills from films, such as High Steppers, based on the story of the Tiller Girls dance troupe.
In 1932, Sickert painted Miss Earhart’s Arrival, which shows Amelia Earhart arriving during a thunderstorm near London after flying solo across the Atlantic. Earhart completed her challenge when she landed in Northern Ireland in May 1932, but only a couple of people witnessed it. Sickert’s painting of the press photograph shows crowds of people welcoming the American woman to England the following day. Sickert cropped the image to focus on the people and weather rather than the plane in the background.
During the final decade of Sickert’s life, he relied heavily on assistants, particularly his wife, to help complete his paintings. These paintings included portraits of close friends, such as Lord Beaverbrook (1879-1964) and the novelist Hugh Walpole (1884-1941). Sickert also painted landscapes of Bath, where he and his wife moved at the end of the 1930s. On 22nd January 1942, Sickert passed away at the age of 81 and was buried at the Church of St Nicholas in Bathampton.
Sickert’s art style changed throughout his career. Firstly, he imitated Whistler and Degas before adopting an impasto technique. His final works were smoother but still fell under the Post-Impressionism umbrella. Several people criticised Sickert for using photographs and suggested it showed his decline as an artist. In hindsight, these were some of Sickert’s most forward-looking paintings, which went on to inspire many artists and the Pop Art movement.
Due to Sickert’s fascination with the Camden Town Murder, some people have speculated his connection to Jack the Ripper, who murdered at least five women in London in 1888. Despite evidence suggesting Sickert was in France at the time, several authors named Sickert as a potential culprit. Although Sickert was not in the country, he did find the murders intriguing and painted Jack the Ripper’s Bedroom in 1905. Sickert based the painting on a room he lodged in after the landlady told him her suspicions of a man that stayed there a few years earlier.
In 2002, crime writer Patricia Cornwell (b.1956) adamantly claimed Sickert was Jack the Ripper in her book Portrait of a Killer: Jack the Ripper—Case Closed. Years earlier, Stephen Knight (1951-85) suggested Sickert was an accomplice in Jack the Ripper: The Final Solution (1976), although his sources of research were later discovered to be a hoax. All the information collected by Knight and Cornwell has since been scrutinised, and the consensus is any claim that Sickert was Jack the Ripper is fantasy.
The Walter Sickert exhibition is the first major retrospective of Sickert at Tate Britain in over 60 years. It explores Sickert’s approach to art and his changing styles and subject matter. Although it features The Camden Town Murders series, Tate does not allude to the rumours about Jack the Ripper. The exhibition is a celebration of Sickert’s work and the impact he had on future artists. It also honours the 80th anniversary of the artist’s death.
The Walter Sickert exhibition is open until 18th September 2022. Tickets cost £18 and must be purchased in advance.
After delaying its opening due to Covid-19, the National Gallery in London finally opened its doors to The Credit Suisse Exhibition: Raphaelon 9th April 2022. Originally intended to celebrate the 500th anniversary of Raphael’s death in 2020, the exhibition is the first outside of Italy to encompass the entire length of Raphael’s artistic career. Whilst Raphael’s life was short, he was a prolific painter, producing as much work as other painters who lived twice as long. Working across a wide range of media, Raphael produced oil and fresco paintings and designed prints, tapestries, mosaics and sculptures. The extensive exhibition, with loans from the Louvre, Uffizi and Vatican, proves that whilst Raphael passed away at the age of 37, his legacy is immortal.
Although known mononymously as Raphael, the artist’s birth name was Raffaello Santi or Sanzio. He was born in 1483 to Giovanni Santi (1440-94), the court painter of the Duke of Urbino, and Màgia di Battista Ciarla. Unfortunately, Raphael’s mother died when he was only eight years old, and his father followed three years later. For the remainder of Raphael’s childhood, his paternal uncle, a priest called Bartolomeo, served as his formal guardian.
Raphael showed a talent for drawing at a young age and continued his father’s workshop following his death in 1494. Some sources claim Raphael received training from Pietro Perugino (1446-1523), but others maintain Raphael only worked as Perugino’s assistant, from whom he picked up similar artistic traits.
Raphael had a talent for seamlessly combining observation and imagination, which attracted several religious establishments in the Umbrian cities of Città di Castello and Perugia. His first documented commission was for the church of Saint Nicholas of Tolentino in 1500, after which Raphael worked in numerous churches. In 1503, he painted the Mond Crucifixion, an altarpiece for the church of San Domenico. The main panel depicts the Crucifixion of Jesus against a luminous Umbrian sky. Two angels hover in the sky, collecting Christ’s blood in chalices, while on the ground kneel Mary Magdalene and Saint Jerome. The church had a chapel dedicated to the saint, which is likely why he was included in this composition. Also depicted in the painting are John the Evangelist and the Virgin Mary, who stand slightly behind the kneelers.
From 1504 to 1508, Raphael spent a lot of time in Florence. A letter from the mother of the Duke of Urbino, for whom Raphael’s father once worked, suggests he travelled to the city in search of patrons and customers. The letter reads, “The bearer of this will be found to be Raphael, painter of Urbino, who, being greatly gifted in his profession has determined to spend some time in Florence to study. And because his father was most worthy and I was very attached to him, and the son is a sensible and well-mannered young man, on both accounts, I bear him great love…”
On arrival in Florence, Raphael’s style of art was very much like Perugino’s, but he soon started adopting the manners of other artists, including Leonardo Da Vinci (1452-1519), Michelangelo (1475-1564) and Donatello (1386-1466). (Incidentally, Raphael, Leonardo, Michelangelo and Donatello are the names of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.) One of Raphael’s drawings, potentially a study for a painting that is either lost or never produced, looks remarkably similar to Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa. Raphael’s painting of Saint Catherine of Alexandria also bears similarities to Da Vinci’s work.
With her arm resting on the wheel upon which she was tortured, Saint Catherine’s slightly corkscrewed body is an echo of Da Vinci’s lost painting Leda and the Swan. Unlike Leda, Catherine is fully clothed and looks up to the sky in ecstasy. The religious nature of the scene is still reminiscent of Perugino’s work, but the inclusion of other influences shows Raphael was experimenting and developing as an artist.
Raphael’s painting of The Madonna of the Pinks also pays homage to Da Vinci. With similarities to the Benois Madonna, a youthful Virgin Mary sits playing with the Christ child, handing him carnations (pinks). Carnations belong to the dianthus genus, Greek for “flower of God”. In art, these flowers are symbolic of Christ’s Passion, from His entry into Jerusalem to His death and resurrection. Due to the similarities with other artists, scholars only officially identified The Madonna of the Pinks as a genuine Raphael in 1991.
During his years in Florence until his first year in Rome in 1508, Raphael painted many Madonnas (depictions of the Virgin and Child). Several were commissioned as large-scale altarpieces for churches, although some were designed for private prayer and devotion. As well as showing great attention to detail, Raphael filled his religious paintings with symbolism and dynamism, which emphasised the importance of the characters.
The Tempi Madonna, so named because Raphael painted it for the Tempi family, depicts Mary’s maternal love for her child. Unlike other Madonnas, which usually hint at Christ’s future through his dramatic poses and behaviour, this painting is more natural. Raphael reveals the emotion, tenderness and absorption of a mother, who holds her son close with her cheek pressed against his. Yet, the baby, Christ, stares into the distance as though contemplating his destiny. Raphael may have taken inspiration for the emotionally charged scene from sculptural reliefs made by Donatello.
A more typical pose of the Christ child is the scene in Raphael’s Alba Madonna, which belonged to the Dukes of Alba in Spain until 1836. As well as Jesus and Mary, the infant John the Baptist joins the scene, holding purple anemones, symbolising Christ’s fate. Other flowers in the painting hold significant meaning, including cyclamen for love and sorrow, and violets for humility. Some scholars surmise the tondo-style artwork was inspired by Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel ceiling.
In 1508, Raphael moved to Rome, where he immediately gained two new patrons, Pope Julius II (1443-1513) and the Pope’s principal financial backer, Agostino Chigi (1466-1520). The Sienese banker was allegedly the richest man in Italy and required Raphael to produce frescoes for his villa in the Via della Lungara, now a museum called Villa Farnesina. Chigi also commissioned Raphael to design chapels in two churches, Santa Maria della Pace and Santa Maria del Popolo.
While working for Chigi, Raphael also completed many works for Julius II, starting with a fresco in the Pope’s private library at the Vatican Palace. The Stanza della segnatura (Room of the Signatura), or Stanze for short, and other rooms in the palace are frequently referred to as the “Raphael Rooms” because of the numerous paintings that adorn the walls and ceilings. The majority of the paintings depict religious scenes, such as Cardinal and Theological Virtues, Disputation of the Holy Sacrament, Deliverance of Saint Peter and The Vision of the Cross. Other scenes captured legendary events, including The Coronation of Charlemagne and The Battle of the Milvian Bridge.
One of the most famous of Raphael’s paintings for the Stanze is The School of Athens, painted between 1509 and 1511. The masterpiece reflects the growing interest in Ancient Greek Philosophy in Rome at the time. Several of the figures in the scene have been identified by art historians, including a self-portrait of Raphael posing as Apelles of Kos, a 4th century BC painter.
In the centre of The School of Athens, the Greek philosophers Aristotle and Plato are seen in conversation. Plato points his hand towards the sky, signalling his idealism and abstract thinking, while Aristotle gestures at the ground, referencing his study of the natural world and human behaviour. In his other hand, Plato holds a copy of Timaeus, a dialogue that responds to the opinions of other scholars. Similarly, Aristotle holds a copy of his Nicomachean Ethics, which had a profound influence on Europeans during the Middle Ages. Around Plato and Aristotle, other philosophers are engaged in debates about their ideas and theories.
In the centre foreground of The School of Athens sits a man resting his head upon his hand while writing on a sheet of paper. This is possibly a representation of the philosopher Heraclitus, who lived around 500 BC. Some believe Raphael modelled the figure on Michaelangelo, who was working on the Sistine Chapel ceiling at the time. Similarly, Plato may be modelled on Da Vinci. Heraclitus, nicknamed “the weeping philosopher”, was prone to depression, which explains his physical demeanour and isolation from the other figures in the painting. Heraclitus believed the world was made of fire and stressed the importance of the unity of opposites and harmony.
Although much of Raphael’s time was spent working on the frescos in the Vatican Palace, he still found time to complete other paintings, such as a portrait of the elderly Julius II. Seated in a chair rather than on a papal throne, the Pope looks frail and humble; a stark contrast to his powerful and influential position. Julius was responsible for rebuilding St. Peter’s Basilica and the establishment of the Swiss Guards. When Julius died in 1513, less than two years after the completion of the portrait, he was replaced by Leon X (1475-1521), who continued to oversee Raphael’s progress in the Stanze and Michelangelo’s work in the Sistine Chapel.
As Raphael grew in popularity, he started training other artists and employed them as assistants in his workshop. One of his assistants was Giulio Romano (1492-1546), a young artist from Rome who helped Raphael complete the paintings in the Stanze. By teaching his students to replicate his style, Raphael doled out sections of artworks to his assistants to complete, thus saving time and energy.
In some cases, Raphael only provided the drawing, for which his students provided the paint. One example is The Vision of Ezekiel (1516-17), which while designed by Raphael, was executed by Romano. The painting depicts a scene in the Old Testament involving the prophet Ezekiel, who rarely appeared in Italian Renaissance art. In the Book of Ezekiel, the prophet described an encounter with God and four living creatures. According to the Christian priest Jerome (347–420), the creatures symbolised the authors of the New Testament gospels. Matthew is the man or angel because his book begins with the genealogy of Jesus, whilst Luke is the Ox because his book starts with temple sacrifice. Mark is represented by the lion, “roaring in the desert with prophetic power”, and John is the eagle, “flying heavenwards like the divine Word”. Alternative interpretations of this tetramorph (a symbolic arrangement of four differing elements) include Babylonian symbols of the zodiac: Taurus (ox), Leo (lion), Scorpio (eagle), and Aquarius (man); and the four elements of Western astrology: Earth, Fire, Water and Air.
With his assistants working on paintings, Raphael was able to prove his versatility with other mediums. Inspired by Albrecht Dürer (1471-1528), Raphael designed prints, which were subsequently engraved by the printmaker Marcantonio Raimondi (c.1480-c.1534). An example of Raphael’s print compositions is The Massacre of the Innocents (c.1510), which not only shows Raphael’s mastery of the classical male nude but also reveals his talent for depicting movement and violent action. The scene comes from the nativity narrative of the Gospel of Matthew (2:16–18), in which King Herod learns of Jesus’ birth and orders the execution of all children under the age of two. Etching allows the artist to include expressive lines and shading, which often gets lost in coloured paintings. Every detail of the violent soldiers’ actions is carefully recorded, as is the despair and horror on the faces of the mothers.
Alongside prints, Raphael designed mosaics, sculptures, metalwork and decorative art, such as vases. Several drawings and plans for these objects still exist, as do many letters and notes proving that Raphael also had an interest in archaeology. Raphael wrote to Pope Leo X, begging him to prevent the destruction of archaeological interests, such as Roman ruins. He provided the Pope with a survey of all the buildings in Rome that he believed should be preserved for the future, along with detailed drawings. Plans to tear down ancient structures, presumably to build new houses, horrified Raphael and many of his contemporaries. It is thanks to them the world is still in possession of many historically important places.
Some historical buildings appear in Raphael’s work, as do reimagined structures from Classical Greece, such as in the tapestry Saint Paul Preaching at Athens. Between 1514 and 1515, Leo X commissioned Raphael to design a series of tapestries to hang on the walls of the Sistine Chapel. Each design depicted a scene from the Acts of the Apostles, which included the life of the first pope, Saint Peter, and Saint Paul. Saint Paul Preaching at Athens reimagines the biblical city and the Areopagus, upon which Paul preached to the judicial council of Athens about God and Jesus. Standing behind Paul in a red cap is a depiction of Leo X.
With so many commissions, Raphael rarely had time to produce portraits, which may be why he included his patrons and himself in some of his large scenes. Towards the end of his short career, while his assistants completed other work, Raphael found a moment to paint a handful of portraits, including a self-portrait with Giulio Romano. Sometimes known as Self-Portrait with a Friend or Raphael and His Fencing Master due to the presence of a sword hilt, the identity of the younger man remained unknown for many years. Today, most art historians agree that it is probably Romano. The hierarchical design of the double portrait, in which Raphael stands behind Romano with his hand on his shoulder, suggests Raphael is the teacher, whilst Romano, who looks over his shoulder for reassurance, is the student. The way Raphael painted the clothing of both himself and Romano makes it look as though the right arm belongs to both of them, hinting that as the master, Raphael aids or manipulates his student.
On promotional material for the Raphael exhibition, the National Gallery used Raphael’s portrait of Bindo Altoviti (1491-1557), a banker and friend of Raphael. The painting echoes Leonardo da Vinci’s Venetian style of posing the sitter as if interrupted by the viewer, at whom he turns to gaze. Altoviti’s father was the papal Master of the Mint, and his mother was the niece of Pope Innocent VIII (1432-92), which made Altoviti a man of wealth and influence. He was also known for his good looks. Altoviti was in charge of collecting taxes to fund the reconstruction of St. Peter’s Basilica. He also liaised with the likes of Emperor Charles V (1500-58) and the Medici family.
The final painting in the exhibition was a portrait of a woman known as La fornarina or The Baker’s Daughter. The suggestive semi-nude portrait has led many to believe she was Raphael’s lover. Traditionally, the sitter is identified as Margherita Luti, who refused to marry Raphael despite his obvious devotion. Art historian Giorgio Vasari (1511-74) claimed Luti was Raphael’s muse and model. He also wrote that Raphael was a “very amorous man and affectionate towards the ladies”.
There are numerous interpretations of La fornarina, with some claiming she represents idealistic beauty and others claiming she was a malevolent goddess. On the one hand, many believe Luti was Raphael’s lover, but another theory is she was a sex worker. An in-depth analysis of the portrait has led some art historians to diagnose Luti with breast cancer. The right breast appears fully formed and proportional, but the left upon which her hand rests is large and deformed. Her left arm also seems swollen, suggesting an enlarged lymph node in her armpit. Since Margarita Luti’s dates of birth and death are unknown, it is impossible to tell whether she died from breast cancer.
On Good Friday, 6th April 1520, Raphael passed away after developing a sudden fever. Vasari poetically recorded that his death was the result of an overindulgence in “amorous pleasures” with Luti, but other sources claim Raphael was engaged to Maria, the daughter of his patron Cardinal Bernardo Dovizi (1470-1520). Raphael’s illness lasted approximately 15 days, during which time he realised he would die and received last rites, confessed his sins and put his affairs in order. As per his request, Raphael was buried in the Pantheon in Rome, where his fiancée was also buried some years later.
Due to his fame and importance in the art world, Raphael received a grand funeral, attended by large crowds. Four cardinals carried Raphael’s body, and the pope kissed his hand before they lowered him into a marble sarcophagus inscribed with a quote from the poet Pietro Bembo (1470-1547): “Here lies that famous Raphael by whom Nature feared to be conquered while he lived, and when he was dying, feared herself to die.”
Following his death, Raphael became the prototype for high art across Europe. Due to his versatility, Raphael influenced many areas of art and remains one of the greatest artists to have ever lived. Raphael produced as much work in his 37 years of life as those who lived twice his age. He was a prodigy of the likes that has not been seen since. Today, artists have barely established themselves by the age of 37, let alone produced even half the number of paintings. The Credit Suisse Exhibition: Raphael demonstrates Raphael’s importance in the art world and proves that his work will last for time immemorial.
From February to May 2022, the Royal Academy of Arts explored the work of James McNeill Whistler, particularly those featuring a certain red-haired woman. Whistler’s paintings of Joanna Hiffernan helped him forge his reputation as one of the best-known names of the late 19th-century Aesthetic Movement. Rather than solely focusing on the artist, the RA uncovered the role Hiffernan played in Whistler’s life and her influence on future artists, particularly the Pre-Raphaelites.
Hiffernan’s reputation as the “Woman in White” developed after posing for Whistler’s painting The White Girl (1861-63), later renamed Symphony in White, No 1. Two more Symphonies in White followed, which inspired other artists to paint similar scenes. Although Hiffernan posed for Whistler on several occasions, her name remained synonymous with the figure in a white cambric dress.
Joanna Hiffernan was born in Limerick, Ireland, in 1843, but moved with her family to London at the age of two to avoid the Irish Potato Famine. Her father, Patrick Hiffernan, taught penmanship but had a reputation for being a stereotypical Irish drunkard. Hiffernan received a modest education, evidenced by her letters full of spelling errors.
James Abbott McNeill Whistler (1834-1903) was born in Massachusetts, USA, to Anna McNeill (1804-81) and George Washington Whistler (1800-49). His mother is the subject of one of Whistler’s most famous paintings, Arrangement in Grey and Black No.1, more commonly known as Whistler’s Mother (1871). His father worked as a railroad engineer and is credited with introducing the steam whistle to American trains. In 1843, Whistler moved to St Petersburg, Russia, where his father was hired by Tsar Nicholas I (1796-1855) to build the Saint Petersburg-Moscow Railway.
In Russia, Whistler attended the Imperial Academy of Arts, and when he was not studying, he spent time visiting family in London. Two years before the completion of the Saint Petersburg-Moscow Railway, Whistler’s father contracted cholera and passed away. At 15 years old, Whistler only had vague notions about becoming an artist, so he returned to America with his mother, who sent him to Christ Church Hall School, hoping he would become a minister.
Spending more time with his sketchbook than studying, Whistler decided a career in religion was not for him, so he enrolled in the United States Military Academy at West Point, New York. This proved fruitless, and Whistler’s inability to take orders from authority resulted in his dismissal. For a while, Whistler worked as a draftsman, mapping the US coast for military purposes. Whilst this work was tedious, Whistler learned the technique of etching, which proved beneficial in his future career as an artist.
In 1855, Whistler left America and settled in Paris, where he adopted the lifestyle of a bohemian artist. He briefly studied at the Ecole Impériale and received tuition from the Swiss artist Charles Gleyre (1806-74), who taught Whistler the importance of line and tonal harmony. Whistler became friends with the French painter Henri Fantin-Latour (1836-1904), who introduced him to the circle of Gustave Courbet (1819-77). As the leader of the Realism movement, Courbet influenced Whistler and encouraged him to start painting professionally.
In 1858, Whistler visited his half-sister Deborah Haden in London, where he eventually took up accommodation in Rotherhithe, near the River Thames. In 1860, he met Joanna Hiffernan for the first time and fell in love with her copper coloured hair. Whistler started including Hiffernan in his paintings, and she eventually became his lover.
Whistler’s iconic Symphonies in White marked a turning point in his career and introduced Hiffernan to the world. Whistler began the first of the three paintings in Paris in 1861 and submitted it to the Royal Academy in May 1862 under the title The White Girl. Much to Whistler’s disappointment, the Academy rejected the painting and sent it to Berners Street Gallery, where it was displayed with the title The Woman in White. Unfortunately, the painting became associated with Wilkie Collins’ (1824-89) novel of the same name, which was not Whistler’s intention. “My painting simply represents a girl dressed in white standing in front of a white curtain.”
In 1863, Whistler sent The White Girl to the Paris Salon, who also rejected it. Many paintings at the time contained a narrative, whereas Whistler’s did not. Later that year, the painting hung in the Salon des Refusés, where one critic wrote it was a picture of a “charming phantom”.
Whistler produced his second portrait of Hiffernan in white in 1864, which he titled The Little White Girl. Dressed in a white muslin dress, Hiffernan posed in front of a fireplace and mirror at Whistler’s new house in Chelsea, London. In her right hand, she held a fan made by the Japanese artist Hiroshige (1797-1858). Japonisme, meaning artworks from Japan and other East Asian countries, was popular amongst European artists in the 19th century. Whistler owned a vast collection of Asian art, including prints, fans and ceramics. The blue and white vase on the mantlepiece is one example of the items he collected.
As part of her outfit for The Little White Girl, Hiffernan wore a wedding ring on her left hand. The reason for this is uncertain because Hiffernan never married. One theory involved Whistler’s family, who considered models to be little better than prostitutes. Hiffernan only posed for Whistler and a few friends, but this did not stop Whistler’s mother from objecting to their relationship. Some believe the comments about models and prostitutes covered up Whistler’s mother’s opinion about people of lower social classes.
Whistler’s third painting in the series featured Hiffernan in the same dress as the first painting, reclining on a white sofa. Unlike the previous artworks, this one included a second figure in a pale yellow silk dress. The other woman was the professional model Emelie “Milly” Eyre Jones (1850-1920), who posed for several artists, including Albert Moore (1860-1933) and Frederick Sandys (1829-1904). After hearing that Milly was posing for Whistler, Sandys announced he wished to paint Hiffernan, but Whistler refused to “lend” her. Instead, Sandys painted Milly in a white dress for Gentle Spring (1865).
Before settling on the final composition, Whistler tried out various poses for his models. Some of these sketches still exist, including one Whistler sent to the French artist Henri Fantin-Latour (1836-1904). When Whistler eventually completed the painting, he declared the figure of Hiffernan “is the purest I have ever done.” Several artists admired the artwork, including Edgar Degas (1834-1917), who made sketches of it.
In 1867, the third painting earned a place at the Royal Academy under the title Symphony in White. Focusing on the colours rather than the subject, one critic called it “an exquisite chromatic study,” and several people compared it with the previous two portraits of Hiffernan in white. As a result, the two earlier paintings gained the names Symphony in White, No. 1: The White Girl and Symphony in White, No. 2: The Little White Girl. The focus on colour and harmony rather than a narrative inspired the Aesthetic Movement, which influenced future generations of artists who began producing “art for art’s sake”.
Whilst the Symphonies in White are Whistler’s most famous depictions of Hiffernan, he used her as a model for many other works, including etchings. During his career, Whistler produced over 490 etchings and drypoints, making him one of the major figures in printmaking of the 19th century. Most of his prints were based on the people and places around him, particularly his models.
Some of Whistler’s finest portraits of Hiffernan were drypoints rather than paintings. Drypoints involved etching into a copper plate, allowing the artist to emphasise shapes and tones through a series of lines and cross-hatching. After rubbing ink into the etched lines, paper is laid on the plate and pulled through a printing press. Often, the plate went through the press several times, producing prints of varying darkness as the ink began to run out. Whistler printed over forty impressions of his etching Weary (1863) before settling on one to hang at the Royal Academy.
Whistler’s paintings and etchings are considered two separate forms of art, yet prints he collected by Hiroshige and other Asian artists, frequently appeared in his artwork. Whistler owned an impressive collection of Asian art, including fans, china and rugs, which also feature in his work, for instance, Purple and Rose: The Lange Leizen of the Six Marks (1864). For this painting, Hiffernan posed as an Asian woman painting a pot. Surrounded by examples of Whistler’s porcelain collection, Hiffernan appears to sign her most recent creation with a thin paintbrush.
The title of the painting, Purple and Rose: The Lange Leizen of the Six Marks, references many aspects of the scene. Hiffernan wears a purple and white kimono decorated with pink roses, hence the first half of the title. Lange Leizen is a Dutch phrase meaning “long lines”, which many English-speaking people misinterpreted as “long Elizas”. Some patterns on Chinese porcelain featured tall women, which is what led to the confusion. The Six Marks referenced the signature and date written by the potter on each of their creations.
In 1865, Whistler and Hiffernan spent time in Trouville on the Normandy coast of France, where they joined the artist Gustave Courbet (1819-77) at the Hôtel du Bras d’Or. Courbet encouraged Whistler to experiment with seascapes, using his skills with colour and tones to capture the subtle shifts of light in the sea and sky. Meanwhile, Courbet insisted on painting Hiffernan, which on this occasion, Whistler allowed.
Courbet’s painting of Portrait of Jo, also known as La belle Irlandaise (The Beautiful Irish), captures Hiffernan’s copper-gold hair, contrasting it with her pale skin and eyes, which peer into a handheld mirror. Enamoured with the result, Courbet refused to sell the original but made three copies, each containing minor differences and details. Letters written from Courbet to Whistler ten years later indicate he was still infatuated with Hiffernan. “Do you remember Trouville and Jo who played the clown to amuse us? In the evening she sang Irish songs so well because she had the spirit and distinction of art… I still have the portrait of Jo which I will never sell everyone admires it.” Today, art historians argue about which copy is the original.
In 1866, Whistler travelled to Valparaiso in Chile, leaving Hiffernan in London. During his seven-month absence, Whistler gave Hiffernan power of attorney over his affairs, including selling his artwork, which she did under the pseudonym, Mrs Abbot. During this time, Hiffernan may have travelled to France to pose for Courbet’s painting Le Sommeil (The Sleepers), which depicts two naked women asleep in bed. Rumours suggest Hiffernan and Courbet conducted an affair, and Whistler and Hiffernan’s relationship came to an abrupt end.
Very little is documented about Hiffernan’s life after her split from Whistler. For some time, she looked after Whistler’s son, Charles James Whistler Hanson (1870–1935), the result of an affair with a parlour maid. Whistler was often away, but he produced a drypoint sketch of his son during the late 1870s and an etching of Hiffernan’s sister, Bridget Agnes Hiffernan (1845-1921). The 1881 census records Hiffernan and Charles living with Bridget at 2 Thistle Grove in London.
The Royal Academy records Hiffernan’s death in 1886 and suggests her sister cared for her during a short illness. Other sources claim Hiffernan died in 1903 after attending Whistler’s funeral. The art collector Charles Lang Freer (1854-1919) wrote, “As she raised her veil and I saw … the thick wavy hair, although it was streaked with grey, I knew at once it was Johanna, the Johanna of Etretat, ‘la belle Irlandaise’ that Courbet had painted with her wonderful hair and a mirror in her hand…. She stood for a long time beside the coffin—nearly an hour I should think…. I could not help being touched by the feeling she showed toward her old friend.” The Royal Academy believes this was Hiffernan’s sister, who people mistook for Joanna Hiffernan.
Following Whistler’s split from Hiffernan, he began using Maud Franklin (1857-1939) as his muse and mistress. Records suggest he did not treat her well, later marrying the artist Beatrice Godwin (1857-1896) in secret to avoid a furious Maud Franklin interrupting the marriage ceremony. Sadly, Beatrice passed away from cancer only six years into their marriage. Whistler never overcame the death and spent the majority of his remaining years painting minimalist seascapes.
Despite the initial rejection of Whistler’s The White Girl by the Royal Academy and the Paris Salon, the three Symphonies in White inspired many artists during and following Whistler’s lifetime. Hiffernan recorded that John Everett Millais (1892-86) particular liked the paintings and used them as inspiration for The Somnambulist (1871). Using a model with a remarkable resemblance to Hiffernan, Millais painted a woman in white, sleepwalking along the edge of a cliff. Whilst the figure is an obvious link to Whistler’s portrait in technique and composition, the painting contains a dramatic narrative, possibly inspired by Vincenzo Bellini’s (1801-35) romantic opera La sonnambula (1827).
Focusing on Hiffernan more than Whistler, the exhibition at the Royal Academy makes visitors examine the artworks differently. Rather than judging the artist on his quality of painting, the exhibition’s narrative explores the lives of both Whistler and his model. Instead of looking at The White Girl as an anonymous woman, the Academy gives her a name, a life and a purpose. Whilst it may not have been the curator’s intention, Whistler’s Woman in White compliments recent exhibitions, television programmes and books that aim to draw attention to women of the past, whose importance has been hidden for so long.
Once upon a time, in an Essex village called Havering-atte-Bower (now part of London), sat a palace. Many kings stayed in the palace during their travels around the country until it was abandoned in 1686. Today, nothing remains of the palace, and not many people know it ever existed. Fortunately, records of the building still exist, and the Romford Historical Society is determined to keep the history of Havering Palace alive.
According to Havering Museum, people inhabited Havering-atte-Bower during the Saxon times. In the 7th century, Sigeberht the Little, the King of Essex from c. 617-653, built either a wooden hunting lodge or palace. Naturally, this building disintegrated over time.
The second palace was built during the 24-year reign (1042-66) of Edward the Confessor. There is no proof the king stayed at the palace, except for a local legend. Allegedly, during one visit, the king came across a beggar asking for money. Edward regrettably told him, “I have no money, but I have a ring,” which he handed to the beggar. Some claim this is how Havering got its name: “have a ring”. It is more likely the name is derived from Hæfer, a Saxon landowner. The far-fetched tale continues, claiming the beggar later gave the ring to some pilgrims, telling them, “Give this to your king, and tell him that within six months he shall die.” Suspicious of the claim, the pilgrims asked the beggar who he was, to which he replied, “St John the Evangelist.” Six months later, Edward the Confessor died.
According to the Domesday Book, completed in 1086, the manor or palace belonged to Earl Harold in 1066. This record suggests the king gave the land to the Earl before he died. Upon the king’s death, Earl Harold became King Harold II (1022-1066), also known as Harold Godwinson. Harold Wood, a suburban neighbourhood in the London Borough of Havering, got its name from the king.
On 14th October 1066, Harold II died during the Battle of Hastings, and the crown and palace passed to William the Conqueror (1028-1087). The Norman king proceeded to take the surrounding land away from the previous owners. Lands included Upminster, owned by Sweyn the Swarthy; Cranham, owned by a freeman called Alwin; Rainham, owned by Lefstan the Reeve; and Berwick Farm, which belonged to someone called Aluard. William also took North Ockendon but later swapped it for Windsor, where he built Windsor Castle.
Havering Palace remained the property of the crown and nearly all the kings and queens of England used it until the 17th century. During this time, extensive building works resulted in a palace with at least 26 rooms, a chapel, several kitchens, a gatehouse and an inner courtyard.
In 1262, King Henry III (1207-72) granted Havering Palace to his wife, Eleanor of Provence (1223-91). From then on, Havering Palace belonged to the subsequent queen consorts and queen dowagers until Jane Seymour’s death in 1537. The word Bower in the name Havering-atte-Bower may stem from the queens’ presence in the area. One meaning of bower is “a woman’s private room or bedroom”, although another source suggests atte-Bower meant “at the royal residence.”
King Edward III (1312-77) made over 30 visits, frequently staying for weeks at a time. In 1358, Edward held a Marshalsea Court at Havering Palace for five months and allowed locals to air their grievances. Traditionally, a Marshalsea Court let the domestic staff of the royal household express their views, but not usually members of the public.
Richard II (1367-1400) also met with members of the public at Havering Palace, but under less favourable conditions. In 1381, some of the rebels involved with the Peasant’s Revolt came to Havering Palace to ask for mercy. Despite their pleas, Richard sent the majority to trial and execution. On another visit to the palace in 1397, the king organised the murder of his uncle, Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester (1355-97). Richard ordered Thomas de Mowbray, 1st Duke of Norfolk (1366-99), to ambush his uncle while riding in Epping Forest. The Duke of Norfolk owned the Romford manor of Mawneys and is honoured by the street name Mowbrays Road in Collier Row.
Henry IV (1367-1413) is reported to have stayed in Havering Palace, and it is where his second wife, Joan of Navarre (1368-1437), spent her final year before passing away in 1437. Following the death of Henry IV, Joan’s stepson Henry V accused her of witchcraft and imprisoned her for many years in Pevensey Castle, Sussex, and later at Leeds Castle, Kent. Six months before his death, Henry V (1386-1422) released Joan from her imprisonment.
In 1465, King Edward IV (1442-83) issued a royal liberty charter in Havering, which gave residents freedom from taxation. The charter also allowed the area to establish a jail and employ local magistrates. The liberty was formed of eight wards: Romford Town, Harold Wood, Collier Row, Noak Hill, Havering(atte-Bower), Hornchurch Town, North End and South End (South Hornchurch). Gallows Corner, Romford, is named after the liberty’s execution site.
During the reign of Henry VIII (1491-1547), extensive work took place on the Palace, costing over £280 (over £145,600 today). This equated to 9300 days wages of the average skilled tradesman.
By the 1530s, Havering Palace needed at least five keepers, including Keeper of the Outwoods, Keeper of Havering Park, Paler of Havering Park, Keeper of the South Gate and Keeper of the Manor. The building and surrounding land needed constant attention and repairs. Before Elizabeth I (1533-1603) visited in 1568, a team of seven carpenters, four bricklayers and two plumbers were employed to make the palace fit for a queen.
It is not certain if Elizabeth’s father, Henry VIII, stayed in the palace, but he certainly hunted in the area. Havering Palace belonged to Henry’s first three wives until their deaths, or in the case of Catherine of Aragorn (1485-1536), her divorce. Following Jane Seymour’s (1508-37) death, the future Edward VI (1537-53) used part of the palace as his nursery.
During her youth, Mary I (1516-58) lived at Havering Palace amongst many other locations. Elizabeth I may also have spent time in Havering as a child, and in 1561, received a translation of a religious book from Greek to Latin by Sir Anthony Cooke (1504-76), who lived nearby at Gidea Hall.
Elizabeth believed moving from one place to another involved less maintenance and less cost, so she frequently visited Havering Palace when in Essex. She also stayed nearby at Ingatestone Hall, Loughton Hall and St Osyth Priory and gave her legendary speech at Tilbury to 5,000 soldiers on the eve of the Spanish Armada in 1588.
Havering Palace needed significant repairs each time Elizabeth visited. In 1594, new rafters were installed, gate posts rehung, and the lime and sandstone bricks treated to make the building watertight. In the latter stages of her reign, Elizabeth made Havering Palace a lodging for Ladies of Honour, such as Frances Newton, Baroness Cobham (1539-92). Lady Cobham served as a Lady of the Bedchamber and was one of Elizabeth’s closest friends.
Elizabeth’s heir, James I (1566-1625), frequently stayed at Havering Palace, but usually for only one night at a time. The palace now belonged to the king’s wife, Anne of Denmark (1574-1619), who was awarded a new jointure estate after becoming Queen Consort. Her estate included Somerset House in London, Hatfield House in Hertfordshire, Pontefract Castle in West Yorkshire, Nonsuch Palace in Surrey, and the palace in Havering-atte-Bower. This was more than had been granted to any former King’s wife.
James I allegedly preferred to stay at Theobalds House in Cheshunt on the other side of Epping forest when staying in the area on hunting expeditions, yet invited his noble companions to stay at Havering Palace. One Scottish courtier, George Home, 1st Earl of Dunbar (1556-1611), went hunting with the King in 1608 and wrote favourably about his stay in the palace.
The king appointed Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford (1550-1604), the Keeper of Havering in 1603, shortly after the coronation. When De Vere died, his wife, Elizabeth Trentham (d.1612), a former Maid of Honour to Queen Elizabeth, took on the role of custodian until she died in 1612.
Charles I (1600-49) was the last king to stay at Havering Palace. Records suggest he only stayed there in 1637 when his mother-in-law, Queen Marie de’ Medici (1575-1642), visited Britain. Charles slept at Havering on 8th November during his journey from London to Chelmsford, where he met the Queen of France and accompanied her to Gidea Hall. Rather than stay in the same building as his mother-in-law, Charles returned to Havering Palace for the night.
The next day, Charles and Marie de’ Medici made their way to St James’s Palace, much to the annoyance of anti-Catholic protestors who rioted in the street. The French queen stayed for a few years until Parliament paid her £10,000 to leave in 1641. The following year, Civil War broke out in England and many buildings were sequestrated by Parliament, including Gidea Hall. The South Essex Parliament committee set up their headquarters in Romford, meaning Havering Palace was no longer safe for any member of the royal household to stay.
After the execution of Charles I on 30th January 1649, Richard Deane (1610-53), one of the men who signed the king’s death warrant, began dismantling parts of Havering Palace and ordered all the mature trees in the area cut down. By the time of the Restoration of the Stuart Monarchy in 1660, Havering Palace was but “a confused heap of old ruinous decayed buildings.”
At some point during the interregnum, Havering Palace became the property of Robert Bertie, 3rd Earl of Lindsey (1630-1701), who also owned Grimsthorpe Castle in Lincolnshire, one of the few luxurious buildings not taken over by Parliament during the civil war. Despite his costly attempts to rebuild the palace as “His Majestys house at Havering”, the project was never completed and became vacant after 1686.
By 1740, Havering Palace was beyond repair and left to gradually weather away. In 1828, no walls were visible above ground, and the remains of the land were sold at public auction. The winning bidder was Hugh McIntosh (1768-1840), a Scottish engineer who made his fortune excavating the East India and London Docks. McIntosh also worked on the British Museum, Buckingham Palace, and the London and Greenwich Railway.
Whilst Havering Palace no longer exists, some of the land and buildings in the London Borough of Havering still bear its history. Bower House, a Grade I listed Palladian mansion, was built in 1729 by Henry Flitcroft (1697-1769) from some of the remains of the palace. In 1878, Hugh McIntosh’s son constructed the church of St John The Evangelist to replace the chapel that originated in Havering Palace.
Havering Palace stood roughly where the village green outside St. John the Evangelist Church is situated today. Havering Country Park, including the 100 acres of woodland, is all that remains of the palace’s surrounding land. The land was purchased by the Greater London Council and opened to the public in 1975.
The layout of the palace is uncertain, but the Romford Historical Society has built a model of Havering Palace based on a plan from 1578. The plan described a gatehouse that allowed access to a series of connected buildings, including a great chamber, the royal apartments, two chapels and accommodation for the Lord Chamberlain and Lord High Treasurer. Separate from the main rooms included kitchens, a buttery, a scullery, a salthouse, a larder and stables. To view the model, visit Havering Museum.
In 1662, the Portuguese princess Catherine of Braganza (1638-1705) married Charles II (1630-85), bringing with her a tea-drinking habit that changed the course of British history. After serving the beverage to members of the English Royal court, tea became a fashionable drink amongst the aristocracy. For a while, only the rich and privileged drank tea, but in the 18th century, one particular family introduced the drink to the nation. Three hundred years later, the same company, Twinings, continues to supply Britain with teas of several varieties, making it one of the oldest companies in the country. The company also holds the record for the world’s oldest continually-used logo.
The Twining family moved to London from Gloucestershire in 1684. They originally worked as millers in the countryside, but a recession forced them to try their luck in the city. Nine-year-old Thomas Twining (1675-1741) moved with his parents, expecting to follow in their footsteps. He took up an apprenticeship as a weaver and worked hard to become a Freeman of the City of London in 1701. Aged 26, Thomas Twining turned his back on weaving and joined the East India Company under Thomas D’Aeth (1678-1745), who introduced him to the early shipments of tea from Asia.
After working in the tea trade for a few years, Twining saw the money-making potentials of the leaves and drink, so decided to set out on his own. In 1706, Twining purchased Tom’s Coffee House from Thomas D’Aeth, which stood at No. 216 Strand, London. Coffee houses were a popular location for men of all classes throughout the city. One notable frequenter was the artist William Hogarth (1697-1764), who painted a portrait of Twining in lieu of payment. Coffee shops did not only sell coffee, but they also provided customers with alcoholic beverages, such as gin and ale. Twining saw a place in the market for tea and quickly grew a reputation for having the finest blends in the capital.
As tea grew in popularity, the British government placed high taxes on the product. Only the rich could afford to drink tea, and it quickly became a status symbol. Customers began requesting dry tea leaves to take home to share with their wives and friends since women were not allowed in coffee houses. In 1707, 100g of Twinings Gunpowder Green Tea cost £160 in today’s money. To put this into perspective, in 2022, Twinings sell 100g of the same blend for around £7.
In 1717, Thomas Twining purchased the three adjacent buildings and expanded his coffee house into a shop called the Golden Lyon. Three hundred years later, the shop still exists. By 1722, Twining had enough money to buy Dial House in Twickenham, which remained the family home until 1889. The tea business provided a significant income and appealed to royalty as well as upper-class tea drinkers. By 1734, the coffee shop sold tea almost exclusively.
When Thomas Twining passed away in 1741, his son Daniel (d.1762) inherited the business and family home. At the time, Daniel was married to Ann March, but she passed away two years later. In 1745, Daniel married his second wife, Mary Little (1726-1804), who became a mother to Daniel’s son Thomas and produced three more sons, Daniel, Richard, and John. Daniel Twining expanded the business, attracting attention across the Atlantic. The Governor of Boston in the United States became a regular customer, so Twining began to export tea to America.
In 1753, Twining took on his nephew, Nathaniel Carter, as his business partner. They worked together for almost ten years before Twining’s death in 1762. His children were far too young to take on the Golden Lyon, by then known as Twining’s (with an apostrophe), and Carter no longer wanted to look after the shop and exports. Despite women’s lower status in society, Mary Twining took over the running of the business, increasing the number of exports.
Mary intended to run the tea business until her eldest son came of age. Unfortunately, he passed away in 1765 after receiving a blow to the head from a cricket ball. Her second son, Richard (1749-1824), left Eton College at 14 to help run the company. Trade was difficult due to increasing taxes, the American Revolution and the Boston Tea Party protest, but Mary and Richard managed to keep Twining’s afloat. Mary refused to purchase any tea smuggled in from France or Holland, which were cheaper but typically diluted and of poorer quality. Before her death in 1804, Mary officially made Richard head of the family business.
By the time Richard Twining took over as head of Twining’s, he had extensive knowledge of the tea trade. As well as running the business, Richard had expert negotiating skills and joined in political debates about trading. In 1784, the London Tea Dealers elected Twining as chairman, meaning Prime Minister William Pitt the Younger (1759-1806) came to him for advice on tea taxes. Twining convinced Pitt that lower taxes on tea would increase sales and reduce smuggling. Following Twining’s advice, Pitt signed the Commutation Act of 1784, reducing the tax on tea from 119% to 12.5%.
In 1787, Twining commissioned a logo for his tea business, settling on a simple typeface and opting to remove the apostrophe from the name. The logo first appeared above the entrance to the shop on the Strand, along with figurines of a golden lion and two Chinese men. The lion, which is lying down (lion couchant), is a sign of respect towards Thomas Twining, the founder of the business. The two Chinese men represent the tea trade. To begin with, only China produced and traded tea with the western world. The logo is used on all Twinings‘ products today, and the figurines still sit above the entranceway in London.
Richard Twining frequently travelled around Europe, leaving his brother John in charge of the business. He wrote several letters about his trips to his half-brother Thomas, which were published after his death by his grandson in 1887, who titled the books Selections from Papers of the Twining Family. Richard Twining also wrote three papers about the tea trade and Twinings, and in 1793, the East India Company elected him as a director. He continued working until his resignation in 1816 due to poor health.
Before inheriting Twinings, Richard Twining married Mary Aldred in 1771 and had six sons and four daughters. His eldest son, Richard (1772-1857), joined the business in 1794 and took over from Richard Twining Senior following his death on 23rd April 1824. During the 1830s, Richard Junior developed bespoke blends for his customers, and in 1837, Queen Victoria (1819-1901) granted Twinings its first Royal Warrant for tea. Since then, Twinings has supplied British monarchs and their royal households with tea.
Richard Twining was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society on 5th June 1834. The society provided “substantial contribution to the improvement of natural knowledge, including mathematics, engineering science, and medical science.” Twining also followed in his father’s footsteps in the role of director of the East India Company, demonstrating his in-depth knowledge of the tea trade.
Richard Twining was married to Elizabeth Mary Smythies, with whom he had nine children. The eldest boy, also called Richard, was trained to continue the family’s famous business, yet two of the daughters made names for themselves, too. Louisa Twining (1820-1912) devoted herself to helping the poor. She initially aspired to be an art historian, writing books such as Symbols and Emblems of Mediaeval Christian Art (1852) and Types and Figures of the Bible (1854), but in her 30s, she changed her focus to alleviating poverty in Britain.
As children, the Twinings had a nurse who came from one of the poorest districts in London. With these conditions in mind, Louisa helped establish a home for workhouse girls and set up the Workhouse Visiting Society. With Florence Nightingale (1820-1910), Louisa formed the Workhouse Infirmary Nursing Association, helping to train poor women as nurses. Louisa also joined the Association for the Improvement of the Infirmaries of London Workhouses, chaired by Charles Dickens (1812-70). The Poor Law Inspector, Uvedale Corbett, said Louisa was “the most practical woman I have ever known amongst the many who have taken an interest in the subject.”
Louisa’s older sister, Elizabeth (1805-99), also contributed to the treatment of the poor. She established “mothers’ meetings” and published Readings for Mothers’ Meetings and Ten Years in a Ragged School. Elizabeth also worked as a botanical illustrator under her father’s patronage. Her observations of flowers and plants at the Royal Botanical Gardens in Kew feature in the two-volume Illustrations of the Natural Order of Plants published in 1849 and 1855.
Following her father’s death, Elizabeth remained at Dial House until her death on Christmas day in 1899. In her will, she left the house to the people of Twickenham for use as the vicarage.
Twinings continued to flourish under successive members of the family. In 1910, the much sought after tea company opened its first shop in France and continued making different blends. In 1933, they marketed their famous English Breakfast tea, which blended a combination of Assam, Ceylon, and Kenyan leaves.
Despite the rationing of tea during the Second World War, Twinings continued to flourish. To keep up morale in British troops, Twinings supplied tea parcels for Red Cross prisoners-of-war, the Women’s Voluntary Service, and YMCA wartime canteens. As a whole, Britain purchased more tea than weapons during the war. The Royal Air Force dropped 75,000 tea bombs into the occupied Netherlands, which contained packets of tea and uplifting messages from the British.
In 1956, Twinings began selling their tea in teabags for the first time. Teabags were not a new invention, but the war years and lack of materials prevented Twinings from jumping on the bandwagon earlier. The first teabag was accidentally invented by New York tea merchant Thomas Sullivan, who wanted to send samples of tea to customers in small silken bags. Sullivan intended the recipients to cut open the bag and pour out the tea leaves, but many people assumed the bag was some sort of infuser and put the entire bag into the teapot.
In response to his customers’ reaction to his sample bags of tea, Sullivan developed the first purpose-made tea bags, using gauze rather than silk. The invention was quickly accepted by America, but it took a while for the British to come on board. Eventually, Twinings’ rivals, Tetley, introduced teabags to Britain. Britain was slow to adapt and, by the 1960s, only 3% of tea was sold in teabags. Yet by 2007, this had risen to 96%.
In 1964, the British food processing and retailing company Associated British Foods plc (ABF) acquired Twinings. ABF oversees several private and branded British labels, including Ryvita, Silver Spoon, Kingsmill and Jordans cereal. In the past, customers visited the Twinings store on the Strand to purchase tea, but with the growth of supermarkets and convenience shops, Twinings products became widely available.
In 1972, Twinings were the first company to win the Queen’s Award for Export. Established in 1965, the award recognises the outstanding achievement of UK businesses and allows them to use the award’s emblem on marketing materials, such as packaging and adverts.
Fast forward to the 21st century, Twinings continue to thrive as one of Britain’s popular tea brands. In 2007, the company celebrated its 300th birthday, just three years after releasing their world-famous Everyday Tea. Twinings describe their Everyday Tea as “well-rounded” and “invigorating”. It contains a blend of tea from Yunnan (China), Assam (India) and Africa.
In 2010, green tea grew in popularity, so Twinings relaunched the green tea range, adding flavours such as Mango & Lychee and Orange & Lotus Flower. They also relaunched their Earl Grey tea, inviting the 6th Earl Grey, Richard Grey (1939-2013), to add his signature to the packaging. Twinings first produced Earl Grey tea in 1831 by blending bergamot oil into their tea leaves. They named the product after the British Prime Minister, Charles Grey, 2nd Earl Grey (1764-1845), although the reasons for this remain apocryphal.
Following the success of their green and Earl Grey ranges, Twinings relaunched their Infusions range in 2012. This brought twenty new flavours of tea onto the market, including strawberry & raspberry, lemon & ginger, blackcurrant & blueberry, buttermint, liquorice and cranberry. Infusions are caffeine- and sugar-free and can be drunk hot or cold, making them popular all year round.
In 2013, Twinings expanded the 216 Strand shop to include a tea tasting bar so that customers could try it before they buy. This led to the launch of Twinings’ luxury Signature Range, which is personally created by members of the team. Andrew Whittingham, for instance, took inspiration from spice markets in Zanzibar to create “an unusual blend of Rwandan black tea and Rooibos”. Michael Wright, on the other hand, was inspired by “the lowlands of Assam with the humid rainy season, the highlands of Darjeeling, and the gardens of Ceylon” to produce the “Perfect Afternoon Loose Leaf Tea”. For the upcoming Platinum Jubilee of Elizabeth II, Stephen Twinings produced a luxury tea based on the original blends the company sold in its early years. Twinings is also the only person allowed to deal with royal customers.
To celebrate the Queen’s 90th birthday in 2016, the Royal Warrant Holders requested a commemorative blend of tea in a limited edition illustrated tin. The design incorporates symbols to represent the Queen’s status as Head of State and Church, her love of horse racing, and the style of hat she often wears in public. Unfortunately, the tea is no longer available to purchase.
The year 2017 marked the 300th anniversary of the Golden Lyon shop in the Strand. To mark the occasion, Twinings released yet another new range of tea. Known as SuperBlends, the teas aim to promote health and wellbeing and are fortified with vitamins and minerals. Each blend aims to benefit at least one aspect of the customer’s wellbeing, for example, metabolism, digestion, sleep, immunity, energy, relaxation and the heart.
Most of Twinings’ fruity flavoured teas are drinkable hot or cold, but until 2018, all teas required brewing in hot water before being drunk or cooled. Seeing a gap in the market, Twinings launched their Cold In’fuse range, which used cold water instead of hot. Dehydration is becoming a problem in Britain, with only 1 in 10 adults drinking an adequate amount of water. Many people claim they struggle to remain hydrated because they do not like water. Twinings’ Cold In’fuse essentially infuses the water with their much-loved flavours of herbal and fruit teas, allowing consumers to enjoy a healthy drink without needing to put the kettle on. Two years later, Twinings launched a Wellness version of their Cold In’fuse containing added vitamins and minerals.
Today, 216 Strand London provides wellbeing information and support, as well as Twinings’ extensive range of tea. With tasting experiences and masterclasses, Twinings aims to move with the times and supply teas to suit its customer’s needs. Of course, the more traditional teas remain some of Twinings’ best-selling products.
As of 2019, Twinings is Britain’s best-selling tea brand, with PG Tips and Yorkshire following in second and third place. Twinings may charge more for their tea than other companies, but only they supply such an extensive range. From humble beginnings to Queen’s favourite, Twinings has a history of success and has made Britain a stereotypical tea-drinking nation.
“I know of no genius but the genius of hard work.” J.M.W. Turner
Lending his name to the Turner Prize, held annually at Tate Britain, J.M.W Turner is one of the most notable artists in British history. Galleries across the UK and further afield display Turner’s paintings, and Tate Britain devotes their Clore Gallery to a permanent exhibition of Turner’s work. Since 2020, a self-portrait of Turner has decorated British £20 notes, with a backdrop of his painting, The Fighting Temeraire. So, what makes Turner one of Britain’s most loved artists?
Joseph Mallord William Turner was born in April 1775 in Covent Garden, London. He preferred to go by his middle name, William, the same name as his father, who worked as a barber and wig maker. Turner’s mother, Mary, gave birth to his little sister in 1778, who passed away shortly before her fifth birthday. Mary suffered greatly from this loss and spent time in St Luke’s Hospital for Lunatics and Bethlem Hospital until she died in 1804.
Following his sister’s death, Turner went to live with his maternal uncle and namesake, Joseph Mallord William Marshall, in Brentford. The earliest examples of Turner’s artwork were produced at this time, before being sent to Margate, Kent, in 1786. While in Margate, Turner painted scenes of the town, which his father displayed and sold in his shop for a few shillings each, boasting that his son “is going to be a painter”.
In 1789, Turner started studying with Thomas Malton (1748-1804), an English painter of topographical and architectural views. Malton specialised in views of London and taught Turner by getting him to copy examples of his work and prints of British castles and monasteries. In the same year, 14-year-old Turner entered the Royal Academy of Arts, earning a place as an academic probationer the following year when he submitted a watercolour to the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition.
During his first few years at the Academy, Turner focused on watercolours. He travelled around Britain to produce sketches of architectural buildings, particularly those in Wales and Cambridge. In 1793, he painted a watercolour of Clare Hall at the University of Cambridge. The painting reveals the spires of King’s College Chapel hidden behind the hall and the River Cam flowing in front. Instead of submitting this artwork to the Summer Exhibition, Turner sent in The Rising Squall – Hot Wells from St Vincent’s Rock Bristol, which is now lost. Yet, comments given at the time suggest older artists were impressed with Turner’s “mastery of effect”.
In 1796, Turner turned his hand to oil painting and exhibited Fishermen at Sea at the annual exhibition. The artwork depicts fishermen on a boat upon a rough sea off the coast of the Isle of Wight. On the left, the Needles, a row of jagged, chalk rocks look threatening in the gloom of the stormy sky. The cold light of the moon shines through a break in the clouds, which contrasts with the warm glow of the fishermen’s lamp. Critics commented on Turner’s ability to combine the fragility of human life with the power of nature. The painting helped establish Turner as both an oil painter and a painter of maritime scenes.
Turner gained one of his earliest patrons in 1797 at the age of 22. Walter Ramsden Fawkes (1769-1825), a politician, invited Turner to visit him at Farnley Hall, near Otley in Yorkshire. Fawkes allowed Turner to explore the grounds belonging to the Hall and commissioned a series of watercolours of the area. In one painting, Turner depicted Fawkes and his companions grouse shooting on Beamsley Beacon in the Yorkshire Dales.
Around 1802, Turner travelled to Europe, visiting several countries, including France, Switzerland and Italy. While in France, Turner studied at the Louvre in Paris but also spent some time on the coast, capturing the stormy sea on canvas. He particularly enjoyed trips to Venice, where he combined two of his favourite subjects, architecture and water.
Turner did not always paint the landscape as he saw it. Instead, he imagined scenarios, such as Hannibal and his Army Crossing the Alps during a snowstorm, which he painted in 1812. Turner took inspiration from several places, including the Alps in Europe and a storm he witnessed while staying at Farnley Hall with his patron. Combining these elements with his imagination, Turner depicted the Carthaginian general, Hannibal (247-182 BC), leading his troops across the Alps in 218 BC. Whilst the general is not visible, the tiny silhouette of an elephant in the background represents his presence. According to the history of the Second Punic War, Hannibal invaded Italy with North African war elephants.
The stormy painting of Hannibal crossing the Alps shared parallels with the ongoing Napoleonic Wars between Britain and France. The conflicts began in 1803, shortly after Turner studied at the Louvre. Turner painted the scene three years before the end of the conflicts when the winning country remained uncertain. It is unusual for a British artist to depict their enemy as Hannibal, but Turner was referencing Napoleon’s crossing of the Alps in 1800. After already taking power in France, Napoleon was determined to seize parts of Italy.
Not all of Turner’s European scenes contained storms and he showed an equal talent for depicting calm skies. In 1817, Turner visited Dordrecht in the Western Netherlands, where he made sketches of the harbour. The following year, Turner produced a painting based on these drawings, which he titled Dort or Dordrecht: The Dort packet-boat from Rotterdam becalmed. Known as The Dort for short, the painting depicted “a canal with numerous boats making thousands of beautiful shapes,” as John Constable (1776-1837) recalled in 1832. Constable also thought it was “the most complete work of a genius I ever saw.”
After displaying The Dort at the Royal Academy in 1818, where critics rated it “one of the most magnificent pictures ever exhibited,” Turner sold the painting to Walter Fawkes for 500 guineas. This is the equivalent of more than £40,000 today.
Around 1820, Turner returned to Farnley Hall, where under the guidance of Walter Fawkes, he produced illustrations for the five-volume Ornithological Collection. Fawkes was a keen natural historian and animal lover, allegedly purchasing a wild zebra to live on his land. Turner’s watercolours of birds and fishes prove his capability for producing detailed, delicate studies, not only expressive landscapes.
Art critic John Ruskin (1819-1900) praised Turner’s natural history drawings, particularly “the grey down of the birds and the subdued iridescences of the fish”. Whilst Turner also painted animal studies later in his career, particularly of fish, this style of artwork is often left out of biographies and exhibitions about Turner. Yet, those who come across these animal pictures are struck by the differences between these paintings and Turner’s landscapes. French artist Camille Pissarro (1830-1903), for instance, wrote enthusiastically to his son after seeing Turner’s watercolours of fish in the National Gallery.
Whilst Turner’s animal paintings are not amongst the artist’s well-known works, there is more information about them than his personal life. Turner had very few friends and spent the majority of time with his father, who worked as Turner’s studio assistant for 30 years. William Turner Senior’s death in 1829 greatly affected his son, who suffered bouts of depression. Much of Turner’s life is told through letters and accounts by other people, particularly artists at the Royal Academy, who either admired or despised him.
Turner allegedly had an affair with an older woman called Sarah Danby and fathered two daughters, Evelina and Georgiana. According to the 2014 biopic Mr. Turner, Turner refused to acknowledge and support the children. The film also revealed he spent 18 years living with the widow Sophia Caroline Booth. During this time, he went by the name “Mr Booth” to disguise his true identity.
Irrespective of his private life, Turner continued painting expressive landscapes, which became less detailed, focusing instead on colour and light. On the evening of 16th October 1834, a fire broke out at the Houses of Parliament, turning the sky dark with smoke. Thousands of people witnessed the blaze, including Turner, who felt inspired to capture the colours of the fire and sky on two canvases. Whilst the crowds stood on the other side of the River Thames, watching in horror as the fire spread rapidly throughout the building, Turner hired a boat to take him closer to the inferno, where he filled two sketchbooks with drawings from different vantage points. The watercolours on canvas are based on these sketches and were not painted en plein air.
By 1838, Turner’s reputation had spread to the continent, where King Louis Philippe I (1773-1850) of France presented him with a gold snuff-box. In the same year, Turner painted one of his most famous works, The Fighting Temeraire. The watercolour shows the HMS Temeraire, one of the last ships used in the Battle of Trafalgar, being towed up the Thames towards Rotherhithe. Some art historians believe Turner added symbolic meaning to the composition. The famous ship appears almost ghostly in comparison to the dark tugboat, potentially symbolising the ship’s fate. When the Temeraire reached its destination, it was broken up for scrap. The setting sun may also symbolise the end of the ship’s life.
Turner painted The Fighting Temeraire from sketches he made, which was Turner’s preferred approach. Turner’s Modern Rome – Campo Vaccino, completed in 1839, is another example of this method. Turner visited Rome twice, yet spent twenty years painting views of the city. Modern Rome is the final artwork in the series, depicting a mix of Classical, Renaissance and Baroque architecture. In the foreground, Turner included an imagined group of goatherds and other modern workers, going about their work in a city rich in history.
Some of Turner’s landscapes involve events he did not witness, for example, Hannibal and his Army Crossing the Alps, yet he usually combined elements from sketches made throughout his career to produce dramatic scenes. The Slave Ship, painted in 1840, is one such example. Originally titled Slavers Throwing overboard the Dead and Dying—Typhon coming on depicts a scene that only those on board the ship witnessed. In 1781, a slave ship owner ordered 132 sick and dying slaves to be thrown overboard so that he could claim insurance payments. The insurance policy did not cover slaves who died of natural causes onboard the ship.
The crew on the slave ship Zong kept quiet about the incident, but the British public soon learnt of the massacre after one of the surviving slaves, Olaudah Equiano (1745-97), confided in Granville Sharp (1735-1813), one of the first British campaigners for the abolition of the slave trade. Sharp argued with the slave-owner, accusing him of murder, but received the response, “the case was the same as if assets had been thrown overboard.” Whilst a judge ruled that the shipowner could not file for insurance due to lack of evidence, the man got away with slaughtering innocent lives. Nonetheless, the incident inspired abolitionist movements and turned many people against slavery, including Turner.
In hindsight, Turner’s late landscapes bordered on Impressionism, an art movement that did not appear until the 1860s. Yet, Turner is never described as an impressionist, and his style drew mixed reactions from his contemporaries. When commenting on Snow Storm: Steam-Boat off a Harbour’s Mouth (1842), one critic likened it to “soapsuds and whitewash”, greatly offending the artist. John Ruskin, on the other hand, wrote that the painting was “one of the very grandest statements of sea-motion, mist and light, that has ever been put on canvas.”
To some viewers, Snow Storm is a smear of dark, grey colours, and to others, it depicts a paddle steamer caught in a snow storm. Rather than using watercolour, Turner painted with oils but tried to replicate the same style. Instead of blending colours, Turner built the scene in layers, giving the picture texture. The monochromatic colours emphasise the darkness caused by the storm, but the steamboat is almost lost amid the swirling greys.
Whilst Turner always had a distinctive style, the looser, darker, indistinct paintings of his mature period coincided with the death of painter and clergyman Edward Thomas Daniell (1804-42). Despite the age difference, Daniell and Turner became close friends after the death of Turner’s father. Acquaintances suggest that Daniell provided Turner with the spiritual comfort needed to “ease the fears of a naturally reflective man approaching old age.”
Throughout his life, Turner always refused to let anyone paint his portrait. Before Daniell embarked on a voyage to the Middle East, he persuaded Turner to sit for John Linnell (1792-1882). Turner reluctantly agreed but only stayed long enough for Linnell to observe him during a dinner party. Linnell produced the portrait from memory.
Daniell set off to tour the Middle East in 1840, aiming to capture the foreign landscapes in watercolour. During the return trip in 1842, Daniell fell ill with malaria and passed away at the age of 38. Distraught at the news, Turner declared he would never form such a friendship again.
Turner’s paintings from the 1840s may represent his grief, but they also capture the changes in Britain. Turner lived during the height of the Industrial Revolution, which saw a rise in factories, machines and electricity. In 1844, he painted Rain, Steam and Speed, which depicts an oncoming steam train in the countryside during a summer rainstorm. In 1838, the Great Western Railway, engineered by Isambard Kingdom Brunel (1806-59), ran its first trains. Turner captured the train travelling over Maidenhead Railway Bridge, also designed by Brunel.
Although the railway and steam train are the main focus of Rain, Steam and Speed, the hazy atmosphere almost obscures them from view. Art historians often comment that Turner was ahead of his time and among the very few painters who considered industrial advancement an appropriate subject of art. The blurred elements of the painting suggest the train is travelling at speed. It also symbolises that modern technology is advancing forwards at a rapid pace. At almost seventy years of age, Turner had seen more changes in Britain than any of his predecessors.
Not all of Turner’s later works were dark and stormy. Norham Castle, Sunrise (1845), for instance, shows an early morning view of Norham Castle from across the River Tweed. Turner visited the Northumbrian castle in 1797, where he produced a highly detailed watercolour painting. His later version of Nordham Castle is based on the original but much less refined with vague outlines of the scenery. The castle appears to be shrouded in mist, which the sunlight is fighting to shine through.
On 19th December 1851, Turner passed away from cholera while staying with Sophia Caroline Booth at her house on Cheyne Walk in Chelsea. Royal Academician Philip Hardwick (1792-1870) took charge of Turner’s funeral arrangements after writing to friends and family “I must inform you, we have lost him.” Turner is buried in St Paul’s Cathedral near Sir Joshua Reynolds, who played a large part in establishing Turner as an artist.
Turner bequeathed his finished paintings to the British nation, leaving instructions for a special gallery to house them. After 22 years of debating the location of the gallery, the British Parliament allowed Turner’s paintings to be distributed and lent to museums and galleries, thus going against Turner’s wishes. Fortunately, the art collector Henry Vaughan (1809-99) purchased over one hundred of Turner’s watercolours, which he bequeathed to British galleries instructing they should be “exhibited to the public all at one time, free of charge”.
In 1910, a large number of Turner’s paintings arrived at the Duveen Turner Wing at the National Gallery of British Art, now called Tate Britain. In 1987, the gallery constructed a new wing, known as the Clore Gallery, specifically for their collection of Turner’s work. The gallery was met with approval from The Turner Society, established in 1975, who declared that Turner’s will had finally been carried out.
The prestigious Turner Prize, established in 1984 in the artist’s honour, annually awards one controversial British artist £25,000. Whilst many critics debate whether some of the entries count as art, the artists are encouraged to change the course of art history and step away from traditional methods. Turner’s work may appear traditional today, but at the time, many found his style controversial and modern.
In 2005, the BBC conducted a poll to discover Britain’s greatest painting. Turner’s The Fighting Temeraire won first place, followed by John Constable’s The Hay Wain. The Bank of England selected the same painting for the background of the first £20 British banknote printed on polymer, which came into circulation on 20th February 2020. The note also features Turner’s self-portrait from 1799.
Whilst Tate Britain boasts the largest collection of Turner’s work, his paintings and drawings belong to galleries throughout the world. In London, the British Museum holds several watercolours, and the National Gallery displays Rain, Steam, and Speed and The Fighting Temeraire amongst others.
Until 22nd March 2022, Tate Britain is exploring the work of William Hogarth and his European contemporaries during the changing times of the 18th century. Hogarth frequently crops up in the history of British art, and a recent exhibition at the Sir John Soane’s Museum focused on Hogarth’s narrative series, including A Rake’s Progress, Marriage A-la-Mode, Four Times of Day and The Happy Marriage. (See my blog about this exhibition) Whilst Tate Britain included these paintings in the extensive display, they also introduced many of Hogarth’s lesser-known paintings.
Recognised for his satirical, scandalous images of London life, William Hogarth (1679-1764) often attempted to show humour in his paintings. The scenes depict the everyday experiences of the audience in 18th-century society. The social changes ultimately led to today’s moral standards, yet many of the themes Hogarth and his contemporaries painted are now considered racist, sexist and xenophobic stereotypes.
In 1750, Hogarth painted The March of the Guards to Finchley for George II (1683-1760), but the king felt insulted at the supposed mockery of his best troops. The painting depicts a fictional scene in Tottenham Court Road as the soldiers march to Finchley to defend London from the Second Jacobite Rebellion of 1745. The uprisings, which began in the late 17th century, aimed to return the Stuart Dynasty to the throne of England after the deposition of James II (1633-1701) during the Glorious Revolution of 1688. Rather than producing a respectful image of the march, Hogarth exaggerated their lack of training and discipline.
Hogarth also satirised the public and their interaction with the troops. A milkmaid is caught in a passionate embrace with one soldier while another woman tries to attract the attention of a drummer. One man urinates against a wall, and nearby a soldier collapses in a drunken stupor. Some troops rob the civilians, whose attention is on an impromptu boxing match between two soldiers.
As well as mocking the English army, Hogarth poked fun at the French soldiers in The Gates of Calais or O, the Roast Beef of Old England (1748). Hogarth painted this scene after returning from Calais, where he had served as an English spy. In the centre, a man carries a joint of British beef to the Lion d’Argent inn, while a group of malnourished French soldiers and a fat friar eye it hungrily. The state of the French troops suggests they fared badly during the war and the large friar indicates the Church focused inwardly rather than helping those in need.
As well as city life, Hogarth painted scenes inside homes and buildings, including a self-portrait showing him at work. The Artist Painting the Comic Muse (1757) depicts Hogarth painting the Muse of Comedy on a canvas. Critics suggest the painting represents Hogarth’s motto “my picture was my stage and men and women my actors.” X-ray analysis reveals Hogarth originally included a small dog relieving himself on a pile of old master paintings, indicating Hogarth thought his work better than his predecessors.
The self-portrait, whilst sparse in terms of decoration, provides an insight into the style of furniture during the 18th century. Hogarth sits on an upholstered chair from the American colonies. Its cabriole legs and vase-shaped splats make the chair appear more suited to a dining room or living room than an artist’s studio. Hogarth’s decision to include the furniture may indicate he made a good living and did not face poverty like many other artists.
In contrast to the suggestion of wealth in Hogarth’s self-portrait is his fictional painting of The Distressed Poet (1736). Whilst the redware teapot on the mantlepiece suggests the family once experienced money, the dishevelled attic room, full of mismatched furniture, indicates a fall in status. Whilst the poet scratches his head in search of inspiration, a milkmaid demands money from his wife for her services, which the couple cannot afford to pay. Meanwhile, a dog steals the last of the family’s food from a plate near the doorway.
Art historians suggest Hogarth took inspiration from Alexander Pope’s (1688-1744) series of narrative poems called The Dunciad (1728-43). The satirical work celebrates the goddess Dulness, and her mission is to convert the world to stupidity. Pope mocks the downfall of several people and societies, including the Hanoverian Whigs and George II. “Still Dunce the second rules like Dunce the first.” Underneath the daring mockery, the poem contains a moral warning that those experiencing wealth and power are not immune to failure.
During the 1760s, London was the most populous city in Europe, with approximately 740,000 inhabitants. As a centre of global trade, it attracted people from all over the country, continent and further abroad. Unfortunately, a large proportion of the city’s wealth came from the slave trade and society’s attitudes towards other ethnicities resulted in the unfair treatment of hundreds of thousands of people. Paris, with a population of 600,000, was poorer than London but had the same attitudes towards other cultures, often appropriating their fashions but refusing to treat people fairly.
Hogarth’s painting of Southwark Fair, originally titled Humours of the Fair, illustrates a fair held in Southwark, London, 1732. The busy scene shows a tradeswoman selling crockery underneath a stage that is starting to collapse. Oblivious to the imminent destruction, she is playing dice while acrobats perform balancing acts on tightropes between buildings and costumed actors mingle with the crowd. Fairs such as these were popular in Hogarth’s time, particularly amongst the lower classes of society. They provided an opportunity for traders to sell their wares and the poor to experience theatre and musical performances without paying extortionate fees.
The painting of Southwark Fair is not geographically accurate but captures the typical amusements and crowds associated with the fair that ran in London since King Edward IV (1442-83) made it official in 1462. For two weeks, the fair featured rope fliers; physical marvels, such as Maximilian Müller, the eight-foot German giant; and magicians, such as Isaac Fawkes (1675-1732). Hogarth’s painting also includes James Figg (1684-1734), a notable boxer and fencer.
The people at the fair are predominantly white, except for a black boy dressed in red and playing the trumpet in the foreground. The boy probably belongs to the drummer woman because it is unlikely he lived freely with his parents. Whilst there is nothing unusual in this considering the social norms of the time, Hogarth mocks the child by painting a dog dressed as a gentleman and walking on its hind legs behind the trumpet player. This racist juxtaposition suggests owners treated their black slaves like dogs or even gave more care and attention to their animals. Since Hogarth frequently mocked people in his artwork, he may not necessarily condone their behaviour. Instead, he pointed out the immoral behaviour of society, leaving it up to the viewer to find it either funny or shocking.
The Age of Enlightenment occurred during the 17th and 18th centuries, benefitting only white upper and middle-class men who endeavoured to learn more about the world. European superiority deepened as a result, with men believing that because they knew more, they were better than people of other nationalities. The Hervey Conversation Piece (1738-40) demonstrates the calibre of men involved in enlightening activities.
John Hervey, 2nd Baron Hervey of Ickworth (1696-1743), an English courtier and political writer, stands in the centre of the painting gesturing to an architectural plan held up by Henry Fox (1705-74), 1st Baron Holland and Surveyor-General of the King’s Works. It is not certain what the plans show, but Fox later built the original Kingsgate Castle near Broadstairs, Kent, in 1760. His brother, Stephen Fox (1704-76), who lived with Hervey, potentially as a lover, sits at a table behind which a clergyman peers through a telescope. The clergyman, perhaps Reverend Dr Conyers Middleton (1683-1750), stands precariously on a chair that Stephen’s walking stick is causing to topple over. This symbolises the tensions between science and the Church and their arguments about the truth.
On the right, Hervey’s colleague Charles Spencer, 3rd Duke of Marlborough (1706-58), wears a red jacket and glances at the plans indicated by Hervey. Spencer is an ancestor of Sir Winston Churchill (1874-1965) and Diana, Princess of Wales (1961-97). The other man is Whig politician Thomas Winnington (1696-1746), who sat in the House of Commons from 1726 to 1746. All six men had some influence in society, although Reverend Middleton often caused controversy and disputes.
Not all paintings of intellectual men depicted them in a favourable light. In Charity in the Cellar, Hogarth shows a group of men drinking from wine bottles in a dimly lit cellar. Their behaviour indicates they have drunk too much alcohol. Several empty bottles litter the floor, proving that upper and middle-class men are by no means saints. The painting may also allude to tax evasion because many wine merchants imported the drink to France via Italy to avoid paying excise tax. The statue of Charity, one of the Christian virtues, watches on as the men partake in activities that are far from charitable.
Alcohol has ruined many a man’s (and woman’s) life throughout history. To deter her husband from drinking, Susan Schutz commissioned Hogarth to paint a portrait of her husband, Francis Matthew Schutz, in bed following a heavy night’s drinking. The hungover man leans over the side of the bed, where he vomits into a chamberpot. As well as trying to curb his drinking habits, Susan may have intended the painting as a form of punishment. Records reveal Schutz had extramarital affairs and later stood trial for committing adultery with his brother’s wife.
During the second half of the 18th century, attitudes towards portrait paintings changed. Instead of rigid, stiff poses, sitters relaxed and artists captured individuals in informal settings. Hogarth’s portrait of The Cholmondeley Family (1732) is an example of the freedom this new method offered sitters. Commissioned by George Cholmondeley, Viscount Malpas (1724-64), as a memorial to his wife, Mary, who passed away from tuberculosis, the painting shows the couple sitting with their youngest child whilst the other children run around and climb on the furniture. The juxtaposition of the posing adults with the playfulness and innocence of the children reflects two different moods. Cholmondeley, who looks over at his wife, mourns her loss, but the children’s happiness shows that, despite losing their mother, they will survive and thrive under their father’s protection.
Ambitious high society portraits were also all the rage in Britain during the 18th century. Between 1732 and 1735, Hogarth painted The Conduitt Piece, which depicts a group of aristocratic children performing John Dryden’s (1631-1700) play The Indian Emperor, or The Conquest of Mexico by the Spaniards. The play tells the tale of the Spanish conquest of the Aztec Empire by Hernán Cortés (1485-1547).
The painting is set in the home of John Conduitt (1688-1737), who took over from Sir Isaac Newton as Master of the Mint in 1727. Due to Conduitt’s prestigious position, he knew many people in parliament and the Royal Family. Some of the younger royals are depicted in the audience.
Although informal portraits grew in popularity, traditional ones did not go out of fashion. Mary Edwards of Kensington (1704-43), one of the richest women in England, commissioned Hogarth to paint her portrait to assert her independence. Edwards allegedly married but later denied any evidence of the ceremony. The painting reflects both Edwards’ financial status and her headstrong personality. Traditionally, only men portrayed these characteristics in portraits. Rather than a lap dog, Edwards’ hand rests on the head of a large hunting hound. In the background, a figurine of Elizabeth I (1533-1603) indicates that women can exert the same amount of power as men. Emphasising this further is a paper on the desk containing the proclamation of individual rights from Joseph Addison’s (1672-1719) play Cato (1712).
Most portrait painters from the 18th century would feel uncomfortable breaking with conformity to paint Mary Edwards in such a manner. Yet, Edwards and Hogarth were good friends, and she often purchased his work. Typically, only men were art patrons, but Edwards did not let this stop her from commissioning artworks, such as Southwark Fair.
Hogarth often painted portraits of people he knew, for instance, his sisters. He also produced an informal study of Heads of Six of Hogarth’s Servants. It is unlikely Hogarth displayed the painting in public, and Tate believes it may have hung in Hogarth’s studio. When visitors or potential sitters entered the studio, they could compare the portraits with the real people and assess Hogarth’s skill. The servants include a young boy, adult women and an older man, proving Hogarth could paint all age groups. Whilst paintings of servants were rare in the 18th century, depicting them in this manner is unique to Hogarth.
One of the final paintings in the exhibition is David Garrick and his wife Eva Marie Veigel (1757-64). Whilst it does not satirise the couple as Hogarth’s earlier works mocked Georgian society, David Garrick (1717-79) disliked the outcome and refused to take it. Garrick was an actor and playwright best known for his role as the king in Shakespeare’s Richard III. Hogarth depicted Garrick with a quill in one hand, as though contemplating what to write on the paper on the table before him. The intentions of his wife, Eva Marie Veigel (1724-1822), are less obvious, as she leans over as though to pluck the quill from Garrick’s hand.
Some suggest Veigel was Garrick’s muse and, rather than plucking the pen from his hand, Veigel is guiding his creativity. Others surmise Veigel was a prankster, preventing Garrick from working. Either way, Garrick disliked the painting. Evidence suggests Garrick and Veigel’s marriage was a happy one, albeit childless, so it is unlikely that Veigel deliberately prevented Garrick from writing. Veigel, nicknamed Violetti by Empress Maria Theresa (1717-80), was a dancer and understood the importance of her husband’s work. Veigel often performed in the royal courts of Europe, and many thought Veigel’s choice of husband beneath her. Perhaps Garrick did not want people to assume his success on and off the stage was due to his wife.
Looking at Hogarth’s work from the beginning to the end of his career provides a different impression than focusing on his popular paintings. The artworks demonstrate the changing ideas of society during the 18th century, particularly concerning race, class and gender. Whilst equality acts were still something in the distant future, changes in attitude were starting to get the ball rolling. Behind Hogarth’s satirical scenes is a documented history of English society that provide just as much insight, if not more, than written descriptions.
Hogarth and Europeis open to the public at Tate Britain, London, until 20th March 2022. Tickets cost £18 but Tate members can visit for free. Advanced booking is recommended.
Until 13th February 2022, The Royal Academy of Arts is looking back at the work of one of their graduates, John Constable. Rather than look at all of his paintings, the Academy has chosen examples from the final twelve years of Constable’s life, illustrating his more radical and expressive side. Between 1825 and his death, Constable experimented with plein air painting, dramatic weather phenomena, enthusiastic brush strokes, and the possibilities of printmaking. Despite his connection with the Academy, the RA has never staged a major retrospective of Constable’s work until now.
John Constable was born at East Bergholt House in Suffolk on 11th June 1776 to Golding (1739-1816) and Ann (Watts) Constable (1748-1815). His older brother was intellectually disabled, so Constable’s parents expected John to work in the family corn business. Instead, Constable’s younger brother Abram took over the running of the mills, allowing Constable to wander the Suffolk and Essex countryside making amateur sketches. Constable later said the scenes “made me a painter, and I am grateful.”
After persuading his father to let him pursue a career as an artist, Constable entered the Royal Academy Schools as a probationer in 1799. After a year of studying the Old Masters and attending drawing classes, Constable officially became a Student at the Schools. After graduating, he turned down the position of drawing master at Sandhurst because he wanted to focus on producing art rather than teaching. Instead, Constable concentrated on his first submission to the Royal Academy’s Annual Exhibition of 1802 (now known as the Summer Exhibition).
In 1816, Constable married Maria Bicknell (1788-1828) at St Martin-in-the-Fields, London. Maria’s father, a solicitor to King George IV (1762-1830) and the Admiralty expressed his concern that Constable had no money to his name. Yet, before the marriage went ahead, both of Constable’s parents died, leaving him one-fifth of the family business.
Maria’s poor health was a persistent worry for Constable, but he continued with his painting and participated annually in the Royal Academy’s exhibitions. In 1819, he was elected an Associate of the Royal Academy and exhibited his first “six-footer”. The term refers to six monumental landscapes depicting the River Stour, each painted on a six-foot canvas. Fellow painter Charles Robert Leslie (1794-1859) predicted the first of the six, The White Horse, would be “on many accounts the most important picture Constable ever painted.”
Every year, people admired, talked about, and eventually purchased one of the “six-footers”, including The Hay Wain (1821), which now resides at the National Gallery and remains one of Constable’s most famous paintings. The success continued until 1826 when Constable exhibited his final “six-footer”, The Leaping Horse. It was the only artwork in the series that failed to sell during Constable’s lifetime.
The RA displayed The Leaping Horse next to a full-size sketch that Constable made in situ. Several small drawings also show the artist’s experimentation with elements of the landscape. In the sketch, a small tree stands in front of the horse and rider, but in the final painting, the tree is at the rear. The horse, which leaps over one of the barriers erected along the river path, was walking in Constable’s preparatory work. There is a visible mark where Constable removed one of the trees in the background. He did this after failing to sell the painting at the 1825 Annual Exhibition.
After failing to sell The Leaping Horse, Constable directed his attention away from the River Stour towards lanes, dells and panoramic vistas. Whilst no longer painting canals, Constable did not avoid water scenes. This is evident in his 1826 Annual Exhibition piece, The Cornfield. Constable preferred the name The Drinking Boy to describe this painting, which shows a young shepherd boy quenching his thirst in a pool of water. The boy’s dog waits patiently for his master while the sheep carry on up the path.
The lane depicted in The Cornfield is Fen Lane, which leads from Constable’s childhood home in East Bergholt towards Dedham in Essex. Constable frequently ran along the pathway on his way to and from school, passing through cornfields along the way. Constable grew up surrounded by similar scenes, which explains his preference for these idyllic landscapes and picturesque views.
When Constable’s wife started displaying symptoms of tuberculosis, he purchased lodgings in Brighton where he thought the sea air would help Maria’s condition. The family spent their summers in Brighton between 1824 and 1828, during which time Constable frequently studied and painted the sand, sea and sky. One painting from this period, Chain Pier, Brighton, was exhibited at the 1827 Annual Exhibition.
Erected in 1823, the Royal Suspension Chain Pier was the first major pier in Brighton. It was designed by Captain Samuel Brown of Netherbyres (1776-1852), intending to start boat trips to Dieppe in France. It is fortunate that Constable and other artists captured the pier on canvas because a storm demolished it in 1896.
When not in Brighton, the Constable family lived in Hampstead, London, from where Constable frequently returned to familiar places of his childhood. One such place was Dedham Vale, which Constable painted for the 1828 Annual Exhibition. Constable depicted the view from Gun Hill in Suffolk, which reveals Dedham church in the far distance. Many believe Constable based Dedham Vale on a painting by Claude Lorrain (1600-82) called Hagar and the Angel. The art collector George Beaumont showed Constable the painting before he joined the Royal Academy Schools. Since Beaumont (1753-1827) died a year before Constable painted Dedham Vale, its similarities to Lorrain’s work suggests it is a tribute to the late collector.
The success of Dedham Vale earned Constable the position of a full Royal Academician in 1829, something for which he had yearned for a decade. Unfortunately, Maria passed away in 1828 and did not get to see her husband achieve his goal. Greatly affected by her death, Constable chose to wear black for the rest of his life. In a letter to his brother, he wrote, “hourly do I feel the loss of my departed Angel—God only knows how my children will be brought up…the face of the World is totally changed to me.” As well as continuing with his artwork, Constable needed to care and provide for his seven children: John Charles, Maria Louisa, Charles Golding, Isabel, Emma, Alfred, and Lionel.
The turmoil and distress of Constable’s mind following his wife’s death are evident in his paintings from this period. For the 1829 Annual Exhibition, Constable painted Hadleigh Castle, a ruined fortification in Essex, overlooking the Thames Estuary. He first visited the castle in 1814, where he produced several sketches. From these drawings, he produced a six-foot oil painting of the castle, with stormy clouds in the background. Constable often studied and painted clouds in the early years of his marriage, but they were usually white and fluffy. The clouds in Hadleigh Castle are dark and foreboding, suggesting life without Maria was dark and gloomy.
Constable often referred back to his old sketches when preparing large paintings for the Annual Exhibitions. In 1817, Constable witnessed the opening of Waterloo Bridge in London, commemorating the second anniversary of the Battle of Waterloo. Over the following years, Constable produced many drawings and oil sketches of the bridge and the festivities on opening day.
For the 1832 Annual Exhibition, Constable produced a large oil painting showing the Prince Regent (George IV) boarding the Royal barge at Whitehall stairs, with Waterloo Bridge in the background. As a royalist, Constable wanted to capture the event and the Royal family’s involvement for posterity. In the sky, grey clouds form, either indicating the weather on the day of the event or reflecting Constable’s mental state following the death of his wife.
Many of Constable’s paintings contain bold touches of red to highlight figures or lead the viewer’s eye to the main focus of the artwork. It is unlikely that everyone Constable depicted in his landscapes wore red, but it helped bring the picture to life. When displaying paintings for the Annual Exhibition, some artists added final touches to their canvases. On the wall next to The Opening of Waterloo Bridge hung J.M.W Turner’s (1775-1851) seascape Helvoetsluys. When Turner noticed the red highlights in Constable’s painting, he added a blob of red paint in the centre of his work to draw everyone’s attention away from the neighbouring artwork.
During the early 1830s, Constable began teaching life drawing at the Royal Academy Schools. He also started experimenting with other media, such as watercolour and printmaking. Whilst the majority of Constable’s submissions to the Annual Exhibitions were oil paintings, he occasionally submitted watercolours. Constable discovered printmaking, particularly mezzotints, a powerful way of expressing light and shade. Using his wife’s inheritance money, Constable collaborated with David Lucas, a British mezzotinter, to create 40 prints of his landscapes. Trial and error meant several versions of each design were printed before settling on the final 40 to publish in a folio. Unfortunately, the project was not a financial success, and Constable never saw the money he spent again.
In 1834, illness prevented Constable from working on an oil painting for the Annual Exhibition, so the only piece he submitted was a watercolour called Old Sarum. The scene is based on Constable’s sketches of Old Sarum, a ruined and deserted site of the earliest settlement of Salisbury in Wiltshire. The old settlement is visible on a mound in the distance while grey clouds billow overhead. Constable added a strip of paper on the righthand side to include the hint of a rainbow. Old Sarum is one of the 40 landscapes Constable used in his English Landscape series of mezzotints.
Between 1833 and 1836, Constable delivered a series of lectures about the history of landscape painting. He wished to raise the status of landscapes, which were once considered superior to other art forms but no longer popular. Throughout his career, Constable painted scenes that interested him rather than what other artists and buyers preferred. Whilst this hindered his attempts to become a Royal Academician for many years, it has earned Constable recognition for revolutionising the genre of landscape painting. Since many of his paintings depict the area he lived and grew up in, Suffolk is now known as “Constable Country”.
For the 1835 Annual Exhibition, Constable briefly returned to his earlier style of painting. The Valley Farm, also known as Willy Lott’s House after the landowner, depicts a scene on the River Stour, not far from Constable’s childhood home. It is based on two of his previous paintings of the area, The Ferry (1814) and Willy Lot’s House from the Stour (1816-18). Constable reworked the landscape to make it more expressive than earlier versions and modified the house so that it appeared grander. Whilst Constable felt pleased with the result, critics disapproved of the artist’s adjustments and accused Constable of ruining the natural landscape. Nonetheless, Constable had a buyer before the opening of the Exhibition. The self-made businessman Robert Vernon (1774-1849) paid Constable £300, the largest sum Constable had received for a painting.
Despite returning to some of his earlier themes, Constable continued experimenting with watercolour, as seen in his painting of Stonehenge. The painting, which featured in the Royal Academy’s final Annual Exhibition at New Somerset House in 1836, combined a dramatic sky with a well-known British landmark. Since painting Hadleigh Castle and Old Sarum, Constable’s fascination with ruins grew. These decaying man-made structures succumbing to the elemental power of nature, metaphorically express Constable’s emotions following his wife’s deaths along with two close friends, Archdeacon John Fisher (1788-1832) and John Dunthorne (1798-1832).
Alongside Stonehenge, Constable displayed Cenotaph to the Memory of Sir Joshua Reynolds. Due to poor health, this was the only oil painting Constable completed for the exhibition. It depicts the memorial to Sir Joshua Reynolds (1723-1792), the first President of the Royal Academy, that Sir George Beaumont built in the grounds of his home at Coleorton Hall in Leicestershire. Beaumont planned to erect several monuments to friends and people he admired but died before the project could get underway. In some ways, Constable’s painting is also in memory of Beaumont, who helped him become a professional artist.
Constable visited Coleorton in 1823, where he made pencil drawings of the monument. He only started working on the oil painting ten years later and just finished it in time for the 1836 Annual Exhibition. As well as the cenotaph, Constable included two busts in tribute to the Old Masters, Michelangelo and Raphael. In one of his last lectures, Constable praised Raphael’s artwork. He also called the Royal Academy the “cradle of British art” and received cheers from attending students.
In the early hours of 1st April 1837, Constable died from heart failure at the age of 60. He was buried beside his wife in the family tomb in the graveyard of St John-at-Hampstead Church. His children inherited all their father’s remaining sketches and unsold paintings, which they kept for the rest of their lives. The only artwork they relinquished was Arundel Mill and Castle, which Constable was working on at the time of his death. He had intended to submit it to the Royal Academy’s first Annual Exhibition in Trafalgar Square. Since it looked almost finished, Arundel Mill and Castle was displayed as Constable intended.
In 1888, Constable’s last surviving child, Isabel (1823-1888), gave the remains of her fathers work (95 oil paintings, 297 drawings and watercolours and three sketchbooks) to the South Kensington Museum (V&A). Since then, the artworks have been sold and distributed between several art galleries. The Late Constable exhibition marks the first time the Royal Academy has staged a major retrospective of Constable’s work, bringing together twelve years worth of paintings, drawings and prints. Not only does the exhibition demonstrate Constable’s artistic abilities, but it also reveals how grief and emotions play a part in creative output. Whilst the death of Constable’s wife was tragic, it changed the way Constable tackled his paintings, allowing his audience to see a more versatile side of the artist.
Constable painted the scenes he wanted to paint. The landscapes held meaning for Constable, and he did not concern himself with attempting to please the audience by conforming to modern tastes. Late Constable tells a story about an artist struggling with grief whilst striving to achieve the same accolades as his peers. The Royal Academy is finally giving Constable the recognition he deserved during his career through this retrospective exhibition.
Late Constable is open until 13th February 2022 in the Gabrielle Jungels-Winkler Galleries at Burlington Gardens, Royal Academy of Arts. Tickets cost £19, but Friends of the RA may visit for free. All visitors must book tickets in advance.