Until 11th June 2023, the Victoria and Albert Museum is hosting the first UK exhibition showing the works of Renaissance master Donatello (c. 1386-1466), whom they call “the greatest sculptor of all time.” Visitors may question why only one-third of the sculptures on display belong to Donatello, with the rest created by other artists of the Renaissance era. Several of Donatello’s works remain in buildings where they cannot be easily removed. Others suffered damage or disappeared during wars. Many records of Donatello’s life and work are also missing, making it more challenging for historians to piece his story together. The majority of the V&A’s information about Donatello is told through the sculptures of other artists, which demonstrate Donatello’s influence and expertise.
Donato di Niccolò di Betto Bardi, to give him his full name, was the son of a Florentine wool merchant. As a young man or teenager, Donatello, as he became known, received training in a goldsmith’s workshop before briefly becoming the pupil of Lorenzo Ghiberti (1378-1455), an Early Renaissance sculptor. In 1401, Donatello visited Pistoria in Tuscany, where he met Filippo Brunelleschi (1377-1446), the founding father of Renaissance architecture. Together, they travelled to Rome to study architectural ruins.
Returning to Florence, Donatello helped Ghiberti sculpt statues of prophets for the Baptistery of Florence Cathedral. Between 1409 and 1411, Donatello produced his first colossal work, the seated figure of Saint John the Evangelist, which has since been moved to the Museo dell’ Opera del Duomo. Art historians use this sculpture to demonstrate the progression from late Gothic Mannerism to Early Renaissance. Although Saint John’s upper body is artificial and idealised, the drapes of cloth and the saint’s hands are much more realistic.
Donatello created a statue of the Biblical figure David for Florence Cathedral. The city of Florence adopted David as its symbol because the hero represents independence, strength and youthful beauty. The marble sculpture depicts David standing over the head of Goliath, the giant Philistine he had knocked down with a single stone. Donatello modified the statue in 1416 after the city decided to install it in the town hall as a civic emblem.
During his early career, Donatello produced sculptures for many churches in Florence, including the guild church of Orsanmichele, the Cathedral and the Santa Croce. He also collaborated with Michelozzo di Bartolomeo (1396-1472) on the Antipope John XXIII funerary monument (1370-1419) and the funerary monument of Cardinal Rainaldo Brancacci.
Between 1425 and 1430, Donatello sculpted the Pazzi Madonna, a marble bas-relief sculpture of the Virgin Mary and Christ Child. Donatello used a technique called stiacciato, which involved scratching mere millimetres into the surface of the marble. To create a sense of perspective, the thickness of the carving gradually decreases from the foreground to the background. Donatello used stiacciato many times during his career, prompting the historian Giorgio Vasari (1511-74) to write, “Donato [i.e. Donatello] worked best of all sculptors in this genre, with art, drawing and invention.” It is unknown who commissioned the Pazzi Madonna, but it now resides in the Bode Museum in Berlin, Germany.
At some point in Donatello’s early career, Cosimo de’ Medici (1389-1464) began financing his work. Being a wealthy banker, Cosimo held a lot of influence in Florence and often controlled the results of elections. Eventually, citizens began to rebel against Cosimo by forming an anti-Medici party, resulting in Cosimo being imprisoned and then sent into exile to Rome. Donatello followed his patron to the capital city, where he remained until 1433. Whilst there, Donatello worked for Santa Maria in Aracoeli and St. Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican City.
Donatello returned to Florence at the same time as Cosimo and signed a contract to work on the pulpit at the cathedral in Prato, Tuscany, with Michelozzo. The project was the last time the two sculptors worked together. At the same time, Donatello frequently returned home to work on projects for the Duomo and the Old Sacristy of San Lorenzo. He also travelled to Venice to sculpt the wooden statue of St. John the Baptist for the Santa Maria Gloriosa dei Frari.
Despite negative attitudes towards the Medici family, Donatello continued working for Cosimo and accepted a commission to produce a bronze statue of David for the courtyard of Cosimo’s Palazzo Medici in Florence. The date of its execution is debatable, with some suggesting it was produced during the 1440s and others preferring the later date of 1460. Nonetheless, David was the first freestanding bronze statue of the Renaissance as well as the first naked sculpture produced since antiquity.
David poses nude apart from a hat and boots and holds the sword of Goliath in his right hand. Unlike Donatello’s clothed marble statue of the Biblical hero, the bronze David appears effeminate despite the obvious male anatomy. Renaissance historians suggest the youth’s nakedness implies the presence of God, as does the giant sword, which David could not possibly wield. David did not defeat Goliath through physical strength but through his faith in God.
During Donatello’s career, nudity did not cause controversy, but from the 16th century onwards, people commented that something was unsettling about the statue. One government member wrote, “The David in the courtyard is not a perfect figure because its right leg is tasteless.” David’s right foot stands on one of the wings of Goliath’s helmet, while the other wing makes its way up the boy’s right leg towards his groin. Others complained that the statue came across as homosexual, although this is likely unintentional because homosexuality or sodomy was illegal in Florence during the Renaissance.
More recent analyses of the bronze David suggests Donatello felt inspired by Hermes or Mercury, the messenger of the Greek and Roman gods. Much earlier, Vasari wrote that Donatello must have sculpted it from life because it looked so lifelike. More commonly, scholars believe Donatello modelled David on classical sculptures of the Greek youth Antinous (111-130 AD), deified by the Roman Emperor Hadrian (76-138 AD).
In 1443, the family of the late Captain Erasmo da Narni, better known as Gattamelata, called Donatello to Padua to sculpt a larger-than-life equestrian statue of the much-loved man. The statue stands in the Piazza del Santo facing the Basilica of Saint Anthony of Padua. Equestrian statues were uncommon and only made from stone to adorn tombs in cemeteries. The Equestrian statue of Gattamelata is the first of its kind produced in bronze and displayed in a public place. For the next two centuries, sculptors modelled similar statues on Donatello’s prototype.
Whilst in Padua, Donatello worked for the Basilica of St. Anthony, producing a relief of the Madonna and Child for the high altar and six statues of saints for the choir. He also sculpted four episodes of the life of St. Anthony and a monumental bronze crucifix. The latter was Donatello’s largest work in bronze, measuring 180 by 166 cm. Originally, Donatello sculpted a nude Christ for which the Basilica supplied a textile loincloth. At a later date, a Baroque artist added a bronze loincloth and made several copies of the crucifix.
Donatello remained in Padua until 1453, after which he returned to Florence to continue working for the Palazzo Medici and local churches. Among these works is a bronze roundel depicting the Virgin and Child with four angels. It is uncertain whether Donatello received a commission for this work or if he made it to gift to his doctor, Giovanni Chellini, which he did in 1456. In his account books, the physician recorded, “while I was treating Donato called Donatello, the singular and principal master in making figures of bronze of wood and terracotta… he of his kindness and in consideration of the medical treatment which I had given and was giving for his illness gave me a roundel the size of a trencher in which was sculpted the Virgin Mary with the Child at her neck and two angels on each side.” Subsequently, the roundel became known as the Chellini Madonna, and the hollowed-out reverse side of the design served as a mould for glass replicas.
No one knows what illness Donatello suffered, but he lived for another ten years, passing away on 13th December 1466 at around 80. During his final years, Donatello worked on the designs for twin bronze pulpits for San Lorenzo. On his death, parts of the pulpits remained unfinished and were completed by lesser artists.
The V&A exhibition Donatello: Sculpting the Renaissance displays a range of Donatello’s work, evidencing his skill with marble and bronze. Whilst his large sculptures stand out, some of Donatello’s bas-reliefs are equally impressive. Donatello produced the Lamentation over the Dead Christ shortly after his time in Padua, but it is unknown by whom he received the commission. The bronze relief depicts the dead Christ supported by his mother, Mary, and surrounded by John the Evangelist, Mary Magdalene and other mourners. Due to the unfinished appearance of the figures, some suggest it was a trial piece for a commission, such as the doors of Siena cathedral. On the other hand, the surface has been cleaned and treated several times, indicating it has often been used as an item of devotion.
Towards the end of the exhibition is the newly restored Medici Crucifixion, which Donatello probably gifted to Roberto Martelli, an ally of the Medici family. After a year-long restoration at the Bargello Museum in Florence, the polished bronze shines with very thin laminates of gilded copper, silver and gold strategically placed throughout the design. The relief is much busier than Donatello’s other works, with a crowd of people delicately chiselled in the lower half, receding into the background. Christ hangs on a cross between two criminals, looking close to death, although he cannot have been long nailed to the cross. To Jesus’s left, a Roman hammers the final nail into the thief’s foot while balanced precariously on a silver laminate ladder.
Surrounded by works from other artists, Donatello appears far superior to his contemporaries and followers. Rather than copying the styles of his tutors, Donatello developed a unique technique, which became the aspiration of subsequent Renaissance sculptors. The V&A fills in the gaps in Donatello’s life with sculptures and reliefs by those who worked alongside, learnt from or were inspired by him, such as Michelozzo, Filippo Lippi (1406-69), Giovanni della Robbia (1469-1530) and Alceo Dossena (1878-1937).
The Times gives the exhibition a rating of 5 stars, calling it “Pure magic from marble“. Whilst it is an impressive sight, some may feel disappointed with the disproportionate number of sculptures by Donatello. Some items are labelled “possibly” or “probably” by Donatello, which is not the same as knowing it was sculpted by the master himself. Nonetheless, magazines and newspapers list Donatello: Sculpting the Renaissance as one of the must-see exhibitions this year.
Donatello: Sculpting the Renaissance is open until Sunday 11th June 2023. Tickets cost £20 but there are various concessions available. Tickets must be booked in advance, except for members of the V&A, who also receive free entry to the exhibition.
Until January 2022, visitors to the National Gallery in London have the opportunity to view several paintings by the leading painter of the classical French Baroque style, Nicolas Poussin. Each artwork demonstrates Poussin’s unique methods of depicting the movement of dance whilst also bringing to life the classical world of the Olympian gods. Contemporary wax-work models attempt to replicate the evolution of Poussin’s ideas and provide an insight into his love of ancient marble sculptures.
Before the advent of Impressionism in the 19th century, Poussin was the most important artist in French history. Born near Les Andelys in Normandy in 1594, Poussin grew up learning Latin but spent much of his schooling drawing in his sketchbooks. Although his parents disapproved of a painting career, Poussin ran away to Paris in 1612 to search for work as an artist. At first, Poussin could not get a job as a painter because he did not belong to the guild of master painters and sculptors. Fortunately, his early work caught the attention of the Flemish painter Ferdinand Elle (1570-1637), who invited Poussin into his studio for three months.
After leaving Elle’s studio, Poussin found a position in the workshop of the French artist Georges Lallemand (c.1575–1636). Here, he studied anatomy and perspective but preferred to work alone and at his own pace rather than follow Lallemand’s instruction. While in Paris, Poussin had the opportunity to visit the Royal Collection, which introduced him to paintings by the Italian artists Giulio Romano (1499-1546) and Raphael (1483-1520). This sparked within Poussin the longing to visit the Italian capital, Rome.
Poussin attempted to travel to Rome in 1617 but only made it as far as Florence. He thus returned to France and made another attempt in 1622, this time not even making it out of the country. Back in Paris, Poussin received his first major commission from the Order of Jesuits to paint a series of paintings to honour the canonization of the order’s founder, Saint Francis Xavier (1506-1552). Now making a name for himself, Poussin received further commissions, including illustrating Ovid’s Metamorphoses for the court poet Giambattista Marino (1569-1625) and decorations for Marie de Medici’s (1575-1642) residence, the Luxembourg Palace.
At the age of 30, Poussin finally made it to Rome, the artistic capital of Europe, in 1624. He joined the Academy of Domenichino and the Academy of St Luke to study the art of painting nudes and took many opportunities to visit churches to examine the works of Raphael, Caravaggio (1571-1610), whose work Poussin hated, and other well-known Italian painters. Poussin fell in love with the architecture and statues around Rome, particularly the figures on ancient marble friezes.
One of the antiquities Poussin most admired was The Borghese Vase, also known as Krater with a Procession of Dionysus (1st century BCE). Sculpted in Athens from marble, the monumental vase became a garden ornament in Rome. A procession of dancers winds around the vase, overseen by the Greek god Dionysus. Many of the movements and fluidity of the characters are replicated in Poussin’s work, as are other ancient sculptures and friezes.
In 1626, Poussin found lodgings with the French sculptor François Duquesnoy (1597-1643), whose work also inspired Poussin. Before his death, Giambattista Marino, Poussin’s patron, frequently found him commissions from notable Italians, including Cardinal Francesco Barberini (1597-1679), the nephew of Pope Urban VIII (1568-1644). Yet, after Marino died, Poussin found it difficult to establish himself in the city.
Not only did Poussin lose Marino, but the Cardinal also moved to Spain as a papal legate, taking with him some of Poussin’s other sponsors. Poussin fell ill with syphilis and could not paint for several months. He survived by selling some of his old paintings until the French Dughet family took Poussin in and cared for him until he recovered. Poussin regained most of his health by 1629 and married Anne-Marie Dughet the following year. Her brother, Gaspard Dughet (1615-75), became Poussin’s pupil and signed his paintings “Gaspard Poussin”.
During the latter stages of his illness, Poussin completed a few commissions, which helped him afford to purchase a small house on Via Paolina. The Cardinal returned to Rome and Poussin painted several artworks for him, starting with The Death of Germanicus in 1627. Following the success of this work, Poussin gained many patrons, including the art dealer Fabrizio Valguarnera for whom he painted The Realm of Flora between 1630 and 1631.
The National Gallery displayed The Realm of Flora, which usually resides at the Staatliche Kunstsammlungen Dresden, next to Poussin’s pen-and-ink study for the painting. Both painting and drawing show Flora, the Roman goddess of flowers, holding her skirts and dancing with putti (winged infants). Within her kingdom are several characters from Roman mythology, including Narcissus, who gazes at his reflection in a vase while Echo sits beside him. According to the Roman poet Ovid (43 BC – 18 AD), the handsome youth Narcissus fell in love with his own reflection and rejected the amorous advances of anyone else. This was his punishment for spurning the nymph Echo, who attempted to talk to Narcissus but could only repeat the words he said.
Other characters in The Realm of Flora include the warrior Ajax falling on his sword, the athletic Hyacinthus, the beautiful Adonis, the mortal Crocus, the nymph Smilax, and the water nymph Clytia gazing at the sun. According to the myths, all these figures turned into flowers after their deaths. The physiology of each mythological person resembles the style of sculpture from the first century BCE that Poussin so admired.
As well as studying ancient sculptures, Poussin fashioned figurines out of wax, moulding them into the desired pose. While lodging with Duquesnoy in 1626, Poussin learnt a lot about modelling and frequently used wax figures when live models or classical sculptures were unavailable. Later in his career, Poussin modelled entire scenes from wax, placing the figures in a grande machine, a large box that resembled a toy theatre. Holes in the box allowed Poussin to control the lighting, which helped him choreograph his painted outcome.
Unfortunately, none of Poussin’s wax models survive, but the National Gallery commissioned modern reproductions for the exhibition. These examples demonstrate how Poussin studied the movement of the body, proportions and the effects of lighting. Other artists also used this technique, but historical evidence suggests Poussin was devoted to using wax figures more than anyone else.
Evidence of Poussin’s studies of wax models and Borghese sculptures are in his preparatory sketches for many of his paintings. Several of Poussin’s paintings feature dancing figures, such as The Adoration of the Golden Calf (1633-4), which depicts an Old Testament scene. The Israelites are dancing around and worshipping the golden calf made by Aaron in chapter 32 of the Book of Exodus. Moses went up Mount Sinai, and the people feared he would not return, so Aaron made them a new idol to worship. In the distance, a furious Moses smashes the tablets containing the Ten Commandments he has just received from God.
The Adoration of the Golden Calf was one of two paintings commissioned by the Marchese di Voghera of Turin. The other painting, The Crossing of the Red Sea, was separated from its pair in 1945 when it was purchased by the National Gallery of Victoria in Australia. The National Gallery in London bought the Golden Calf for £10,000 and it has remained in the collection ever since.
Another example of Poussin’s study of classical sculpture and wax figures is A Bacchanalian Revel before a Term (1632-3), which the National Gallery purchased in 1826. The term is a carved bust of a bearded and horned man around which wild men and women dance. Dancing revellers were often depicted in classical art concerning the rites of Bacchus, the god of wine. Poussin was familiar with the ancient Roman symbols for the god and festivals, including grapes and dancing.
Poussin’s painting can almost be read from left to right, as though a sculpted frieze. On the left, a woman squeezes juice from a bunch of grapes into a small dish held by a putto, and on the right, a woman has stumbled, presumably intoxicated with wine. A lustful satyr draws the woman into an embrace. Whilst these figures resemble classical art, the landscape contains similarities to other artists Poussin admired, such as Titian (1488-1576) and Giovanni Bellini (1430-1516).
As Poussin’s reputation grew, he gained patrons and admirers, including from his home country, France. One of his most prestigious clients, Cardinal de Richelieu (1585-1642), worked for Louis XIII (1601-43), who was one of the most powerful people in Europe. In 1635, Richelieu commissioned Poussin to paint three Triumphs: The Triumph of Pan, The Triumph of Bacchus and The Triumph of Silenus. Several preparatory drawings exist for The Triumph of Pan, which reveal Poussin experimented with different poses, presumably manipulating wax models until happy with the composition. Many of his figures also resemble characters on The Borghese Vase.
Although titled The Triumph of Pan, there is some discussion whether the red-faced statue represents Pan, the Greek god of shepherds and herdsmen, or Priapus, the god of gardens. The shepherd’s crook and musical pipes attributed to Pan are in the foreground, but the statue wears a floral garland and exposes its genitalia, which usually symbolise Priapus. Nevertheless, both gods were followers of Bacchus, and the painting depicts a traditional Bacchanalian festival.
The muscular figures and draped garments recall ancient statues and the frieze-like arrangement make the scene look like actors on a stage. The painting is similar to the work of Renaissance artists studied by Poussin, particularly the tranquil landscape and distant mountains that may represent Pan’s native land of Arcadia.
Of Poussin’s surviving sketches, his preparatory drawing for The Triumph of Pan is his most detailed. Unlike other sketches that reveal the bare bones of the final painting, Poussin tried out the full effect of the composition with the figures in their final positions. There are a few minor differences between the sketch and the painting. The proportions of the artwork also changed, forcing Poussin to compress the group into a tighter huddle.
Whereas the figures dance around a statue in The Triumph of Pan, the rowdy revellers form part of a procession in The Triumph of Bacchus. Half-human-half-horse creatures called centaurs pull Bacchus’ chariot as he makes his way back to Rome after his triumphant victory in India, where he successfully taught the people of Asia how to cultivate the vine and make wine.
Poussin conveyed as much dynamic movement as possible in The Triumph of Bacchus with rearing centaurs, dancing women and other mythological characters playing instruments. Amongst the figures is Pan playing his pipes, and the muscular Hercules. In the background, Apollo, the sun god, drives the sun across the sky. In the bottom right corner, a river god lounges on the ground, watching the procession. He is a representation of India and the River Indus.
With one leg slung over a tiger, the naked Silenus partakes in a drunken celebration in Poussin’s The Triumph of Silenus. Silenus, the old god of wine-making and drunkenness, was the foster-father of Bacchus. Silenus was once captured by King Midas, but instead of being used as a slave, Midas treated the old man with hospitality. Bacchus rewarded the king by granting him the ability to turn everything he touched into gold. Poussin depicted Silenus as described in Greek and Roman myths: bald and naked.
Many of the dancers are naked or in the process of removing their clothes. Their muscular bodies are similar to those of Greek statues, and the setting is similar to works by Titian. Parts of the scene, such as the wreath lowered onto Silenus’ head, are mentioned in the Eclogues, a series of poems by Latin poet Virgil (70-90 BCE).
The highlight and final artwork in the National Gallery exhibition is Poussin’s painting A Dance to the Music of Time (1634). It is on loan from the Wallace Collection for the first time and is Poussin’s most celebrated dance scene. It was commissioned by Giulio Rospigliosi (1600-69), who later became Pope Clement IX. Rospigliosi requested a painting containing four dancers representing Poverty, Labour, Wealth and Pleasure. The four allegorical figures are dancing to the music of the lyre played by Time in the right-hand corner.
Each of the four dancers is dressed appropriately for their station in life. Poverty, the only male dancer, is barefoot and dressed in green. Labour wears a simple orange gown, whereas Wealth wears pearls in her hair and golden sandals. Finally, Pleasure wears luxurious blue silk and a floral crown. Time, on the other hand, wears nothing, revealing his elderly but muscular body. Beside him, a putto holds an hourglass, and on the other side of the painting, another putto blows bubbles, representing the fleeting nature of life.
As well as the figures in the foreground, Poussin includes mythological characters in the sky, including the sun god Apollo. Before Apollo’s carriage flies the goddess Dawn, and behind the carriage are the Hours or Horae, who represent the seasons. Some interpretations of the painting mistook the four dancing figures as Autumn, Winter, Spring and Summer. As a result, when it was sold to Sir Richard Wallace’s (1818-90) father in 1845, it had the title La Danse des Saisons, ou l’Image de la vie humaine (The Dance of the Seasons, or the Image of Human Life).
Although A Dance to the Music of Time does not depict a Bacchanalian revel like Poussin’s other paintings of dancers, his figures still resemble those on Greek friezes and statues. His preparatory drawings look similar to his other sketches, and infrared reflectography has revealed the same style of figures under the layers of paint. Poussin tended to draw naked figures from marble sculptures then add clothing and draperies during the painting process, presumably after studying his wax models. As well as using wax, Poussin wrapped his models in silk cloth to examine the way the fabric draped over the body.
The National Gallery does not venture into Poussin’s later years, during which time he stopped painting Bacchanalian scenes in favour of religious themes. In December 1640, he briefly returned to Paris to take up the position of First Painter to the King. He soon found himself inundated with commissions, which he struggled to complete. Poussin preferred to paint slowly and carefully, so he found life in the royal court overwhelming. In 1642, he returned to Rome.
With fewer patrons, Poussin lived a comfortable life, working at his preferred pace. French painter Charles Le Brun (1619-90) joined Poussin in his study for three years, learning and adapting Poussin’s style. In 1650, Poussin’s health began to decline, and his drawings suggest he had a tremor in his hand. Nevertheless, Poussin continued painting, returning to mythological themes. He continued working until 1664, the same year his wife died. The following year, on 19th November, Poussin passed away and was buried in the church of San Lorenzo in Lucina, Rome.
The exhibition Poussin and the Dance focuses on Poussin’s ability to depict dancing figures, expertly demonstrating movement and revelry. Today, cameras allow artists and photographers to capture physical actions, but artists during the 17th century did not have access to futuristic technology. Studying sculptures, friezes and wax models was Poussin’s only option, and it certainly paid off. Whilst all his figures may appear to have stepped out of ancient Greek and Roman art, Poussin’s paintings are delicate, precise and beautiful.
Poussin and the Dance is open until January 2022. Standard admission tickets cost £12, but members of the National Gallery can visit for free. Tickets must be booked in advance.
Dear Secret Agent Simeon, Special forces in London have learnt that aliens are planning an attack on the Earth. Their primary method of control will be to transmit supersonic radio waves using the spikes of the O2 dome in North Greenwich as a broadcast relay. The code to jam the signal is out there somewhere! We just need you to follow the Trail and work it out! Regards, Treasure Trails
Yet again, Simeon, the red-haired gibbon (toffee-coloured, if you please), is called in to save the world. After receiving instructions from Treasure Trails, Simeon rushed to North Greenwich in London to search and unscramble clues. Here, Simeon exited the London Underground onto Peninsula Square. In front of him stood the multi-purpose O2 arena (formerly the Millennium Dome), upon which twelve 100 metre yellow spikes rose high into the air. After checking that the aliens were not already transmitting radio waves from the spikes, Simeon looked around for clues.
The ground on which Simeon stood was formerly known as Greenwich Marshes. The land once belonged to the River Thames until the 16th century, when Dutch engineers drained the area to use as pasture land. During the following century, the peninsula was also used to store gunpowder, which traders delivered by boat to places across the world. Also, in the 17th century, corpses of pirates were hung in cages to deter other would-be pirates from committing crimes at sea. Fortunately, the pirates were of no concern to Simeon; he felt more worried about the potential alien attack.
During the 19th century, Greenwich Marshes grew into an industrial area with Henry Blakeley’s Ordnance Works and Henry Bessemer’s steelworks taking up residence. During the 1870s, shipbuilders, oil companies and gas companies arrived, the latter of which dominated the peninsula for the next 100 years. East Greenwich Gas Works was the last of its kind built in London and spanned 240 acres, making it the largest gas works in Europe. It eventually closed in the 1960s after the discovery of natural gas reserves in the North Sea rendered it obsolete.
Significant development work took place during the 1990s, including new roads, cycleways, homes and commercial spaces. The decade came to an end with the opening of the Millennium Dome and North Greenwich station. The year 2000 saw the construction of Greenwich Millennium Village on the site of the old gasworks. Today, there are approximately 2000 flats and houses in the urban village. Nearby, the man-made Greenwich Peninsula Ecology Park reflects the nature of the original marshland and provides a green space in the ever-growing city.
Until the Blackwall Tunnel opened in 1897, the only way to reach Greenwich Peninsula was by boat and foot. The railway did not pass through the area until 1999 when North Greenwich tube station opened on the Jubilee line. Simeon was pleased he could travel by train since he did not fancy swimming across the Thames. Since 2012, another mode of transport, the Emirates Air Line, takes passengers from the peninsula to the Royal Victoria Dock on the opposite side of the river. This is where Simeon headed next to seek out more clues.
The Emirates Air Line is a 0.62-mile (1.00 km) cable car service run by Transport for London (TfL). It carries 34 cabins across the Thames at up to 90 metres (300 ft) above ground level, providing stunning views across London. On a clear day, passengers can see as far as Wembley Stadium, 13 miles away.
After years of planning, the Emirates Air Line took one year to construct. Wilkinson Eyre Architects, Expedition Engineering and Buro Happold collaborated on the design, featuring three helix towers supporting the long steel cable. Each cable car can carry up to 10 passengers, meaning 2500 people can travel every hour. This is the equivalent of 50 busloads.
Whilst keeping an eye out of aliens, Simeon admired the view and excitedly pointed out the buildings he could see. From the cable car, passengers can appreciate the unique design of the O2 Dome, which appears much smaller from such a height, despite being large enough to hold 12 football pitches. In the distance, skyscrapers such as The Shard and One Canada Square (Canary Wharf) dwarf the surrounding buildings, including the peculiar shaped 30 St Mary Axe building (the Gherkin). Other notable structures include the ArcelorMittal Orbit in Stratford, the London Eye and, on a clear day, the Queen Elizabeth II Bridge, which connects Dartford in Kent with Thurrock in Essex.
Simeon’s spy documents told him to look out for the lighthouse on Trinity Buoy Wharf, which is the home of Longplayer, an installation that plays a piece of music with a total expected runtime of 1000 years. Composed by British composer and musician Jem Finer (b.1955), the music started to play at midnight on 1st January 2000. It will continue without repetition until 31st December 2999.
The lighthouse, sometimes known as Bow Creek Lighthouse, was built between 1864 and 1866 by Sir James Douglass (1826-98). There were once two lighthouses on Trinity Buoy Wharf, but the older was demolished in the 1920s. They were used by the Corporation of Trinity House to test lighting systems for lighthouses around the country. English scientist Michael Faraday (1791-1867) also conducted experiments with electric lighting.
Since 2005, the University of East London uses the wharf as the location of their fine art studios. The university also uses the old Chainstore as a dance studio. The BBC used the Chainstore as the filming location for series seven of The Great British Sewing Bee in 2021. The wharf is also home to the Thames Clippers, which sail Londoners and tourists up and down the river. When not in use, they store the boats on the pier.
Simeon dismounted from the Emirates Air Line onto the Royal Victoria Dock, the largest dock in the redeveloped Docklands. The original docks opened in 1855 on the unused Plaistow Marshes. Engineer prodigy, George Parker Bidder (1806-78), designed the docks to accommodate large steam ships and use hydraulic power to operate machinery. Initially, the dock was named Victoria Dock until it was granted the “Royal” prefix in 1880.
By 1860, Victoria Dock received annual shipments of 850,000 tons, over double the other docks in London. Unfortunately, damage during the Second World War made the dock impractical, and trade gradually declined until it ceased altogether in 1981. A decade later, the dilapidated area underwent redevelopment by the London Docklands Development Corporation. Most warehouses were demolished, and in their place, the Britannia Village and the ExCeL were built. Since 2009, Royal Victoria Dock is the location of the Great London Swim, during which participants swim a mile in the River Thames.
Simeon had no desire to swim in the Thames and set about looking for clues on dry land. So that the aliens could not spot him, Simeon made use of the Peekaboo bench on the waterfront. Designed by Portia Malik, the playful bench provides privacy for swimmers to change into and out of their swimming costumes and wetsuits. It includes hooks for a towel and two peepholes so the sitter can see what is happening on the other side of the bench. Simeon had great fun watching the world go by unobserved.
After successfully unearthing clues on the Eastern Quay of the Royal Victoria Dock, Simeon needed to cross the water to the Northern Quay. With no cable cars to take him across, Simeon searched for an alternative route. Swimming across was out of the question, so Simeon was relieved when he found the entrance to the Royal Victoria Dock Bridge.
Designed and built by Lifschutz Davidson Sandilands in 1998, the Royal Victoria Dock Bridge is accessible at both ends by a lift and stair towers. Simeon did not fancy climbing up the tower to a height of 15 m (50 ft) above the water level, so he took the lift instead. The bridge spans 127.5 m (418 ft) and is tall enough to allow yachts to sail underneath.
From the top of the bridge, Simeon had a good view across the dock. He particularly enjoyed seeing aeroplanes taking off from London City Airport. The airport opened in 1987 and sees hundreds of planes taking off and landing every day. It is currently under threat from the political Green Party, who believe the planes cause “untold health and environmental problems to thousands of local residents”. Nonetheless, London City Airport continues to serve over 5 million passengers a year and flies to at least 35 destinations. Whilst Simeon saw many planes, he did not see any alien spaceships. “I must crack the code and prevent the aliens from attacking,” said Simeon as he tore his eyes away from the runway.
While crossing the bridge, Simeon spotted the derelict Millennium Mills, which the Evening Standard describes as a “decaying industrial anachronism standing defiant and alone in the surrounding subtopia.” The building closed along with the Royal Docks in 1981 and, as yet, has not been demolished or restored. Plans were made to redevelop the building with the rest of the Royal Victoria Dock, yet the Millennium Mills remain untouched.
The urban thrill seeker Christian Koch describes the Millennium Mills as a booby-trapped House of Horrors. “Danger awaits their every step in Millennium Mills. The rotten floors are comparable to thick slices of Emmenthal riddled with pigeon faeces and yawning holes that drop eight or nine storeys in some places.” The unused building has been a setting in several television series and films, including Ashes to Ashes (2008), The Man From U.N.C.L.E (2013), Paddington 2 (2017), and Alex Rider (2020).
At the other end of the bridge, Simeon took the lift down to ground level and emerged by the ExCeL (Exhibition Centre London). The convention centre opened on the Royal Victoria Dock in 2000. It has hosted several events over the past two decades, including the British International Motor Show, MCM London Comic Con, and the 2009 G-20 London Summit. In 2012, the London Olympics held several events at the ExCeL, such as boxing, fencing, judo, taekwondo, table tennis, weightlifting, and wrestling. At the outbreak of COVID-19, the NHS transformed the ExCeL into a temporary hospital, which they named NHS Nightingale. Since the hospital closed, the site has become a mass COVID-19 vaccination centre.
Simeon did not need to visit the ExCeL to solve the remainder of his clues and work out the code to stop the aliens from attacking the Earth. Instead, he explored the northern quay, where he came across an interesting sculpture. Erected in 2009, Landed is a bronze sculpture by Australian fine artist Les Johnson. It was funded by the Royal Docks Trust, the ExCeL and the Queen Mother as a tribute to those who worked in the Royal Docks between 1855 and 1981. Landed depicts three larger-than-life dockworkers going about their daily work. One man unchains a delivery of goods while another tallies the items in a notebook. The third man stands by with a two-wheel hand trolley, ready to transport the items to the warehouse.
Johnson based the three men on real dockworkers. One is Johnny Ringwood, a former seaman who had sailed the world before working on the docks. At the age of 81, Ringwood, now living in Hornchurch, published his biography Cargoes & Capers: The life and times of a London Docklands man (2017), which describes his experiences at sea and on land. The tally clerk is modelled on Patrick Holland, who worked as a stevedore for twenty years. At the unveiling of the statue, his wife Patricia explained, “stevedore is a Portuguese name, this was a skilled job, and these men were in the hold of the ship all day unloading or loading.” The third man is Mark Tibbs, a boxer from Canning Town.
Finally, Simeon reached the end of his trail, worked out the code and jammed the alien’s signal. “Mission accomplished!” cheered Simeon. Compared with other missions from Treasure Trails, the Cable Car Mission was particularly difficult, but nothing can defeat a determined gibbon. As well as solving clues, Simeon learned a lot about the Greenwich Peninsula and Royal Victoria Dock. He particularly enjoyed travelling in the cable car, even if it did momentarily stop, leaving him dangling over the Thames!
As a reward, Simeon treated himself to a chicken burger at Top 1 Forever, a restaurant based in the redeveloped section of Royal Victoria Dock. Well deserved!
“It seems that nature has given the dog to man for his defense and for his pleasure. Of all the animals it is the most faithful : it is the best friend man can have.”
Voltaire, 1764
Apart from a brief respite in the autumn of 2020, museums and galleries have remained shut for a year. Fortunately, in the digital era, we do not need to travel to places to enjoy exhibitions and admire artworks. Many public establishments have online presences, through which they connect with those who cannot visit in person. Google Arts & Culture assisted these organisations by amalgamating online exhibitions into one place. This allows individuals to take virtual trips to museums and galleries all over the world. Not only this, Google developed some digital displays too, such as Paw-some Paintings, which celebrates canine companions in art.
As Frederick the Great of Prussia (1712-86) once said, a dog is a man’s best friend. The creatures have appeared in artworks for thousands of years, including on the walls of caves. Since the 19th century, artists depicted dogs as loving, gentle creatures, symbolising protection, loyalty and faithfulness. Before then, “dogs are rarely depicted as faithful or as man’s best friend, but as vicious, ravening, or watchful.” (Oxford English Dictionary) Until dogs became pets and companions, they were bred for hunting, tracking and guarding. Nonetheless, Google Arts & Culture has found ten artworks spanning several centuries that show humans have always loved these furry creatures.
Marble statue of a pair of dogs
During an excavation of Civita Lavinia, an ancient city near Rome, Italy, archaeologists discovered two similar marble statues of a pair of dogs. Although it is not possible to determine the date of production, the British Museum estimates it between the 1st and 2nd century AD. Gavin Hamilton (1723-98), a Scottish artist and archaeologist, discovered the dogs where he believed a palace belonging to the Roman emperor Antoninus Pius (AD 86-161) once stood. Recent discoveries have disproved this theory, but Hamilton sold one of the statues to English antiquary Charles Townley (1737-1805) under this impression. After Townley’s death, his family sold the dogs and other items in his collection to the British Museum, where they remain today.
This pair of dogs, thought to be male and female, portray a tender, loving embrace. Compared to other statues found in the vicinity of Civita Lavinia, they represent peace rather than violence. A sphinx with a dog’s body and a statue of Greek hero Actaeon attacked by hounds are two examples of typical canine sculptures from the Roman Empire. The man’s best friend concept came much later, but this marble statue proves sculptors did not only view the animals as predators trained to hunt but as loving, caring creatures.
Portrait of a Noblewoman – Lavinia Fontana (1552-1614)
Lavinia Fontana’s portrait of an unknown Bolognese noblewoman emphasises her ability to depict luxurious clothing and jewellery in exquisite detail. Although the sitter is the main subject of this Mannerist painting, the eye travels to the small dog in the left-hand corner. Presumably a lap dog, due to its size, the animal has significance in this portrait aside from being the lady’s animal companion. During the 16th century, dogs represented marital fidelity. During this era, brides tended to wear red, so the noblewoman’s wealth, clothing and pet are suggestive of a recent marriage.
Portrait of a Noblewoman (c.1580) is not Fontana’s only painting to feature a canine friend. During her career, she produced over 100 paintings, including mythology and genre paintings, but mostly portraits of wealthy men and women. Portrait of a Lady with Lap Dog (1595) suggests smalls dogs represented the wealth of the sitter. For hunting and guarding, men needed large, fast dogs, whereas a tiny dog had little to contribute to the family other than provide comfort and companionship. Portrait of the Gozzadini Family (1584) depicts a senator sitting at a table with his daughters and son-in-laws. On the table sits a dog of similar size and appearance to the dog Fontana painted in other portraits. Portrait of the Maselli Familyalso features the same dog, this time in the arms of the mother.
The Painter and His Pug – William Hogarth (1697-1764)
The Painter and His Pugis a self-portrait by the English artist William Hogarth. Although not completed until 1745, x-rays reveal the artist began painting during the 1730s. Many alterations took place through the process, including a change of clothes and the addition of books by Shakespeare (1564-1616), Jonathan Swift (1667-1745) and John Milton (1608-74). Critiques suggest these volumes indicate Hogarth’s attitudes towards literature, drama and poetry. One of the last things added to the portrait was Trump, Hogarth’s pet pug whose features resemble those of its owner. Some suggest Hogarth intended the dog to represent his pugnacious character.
The pug, named Trump, was one of many owned by Hogarth during his lifetime. Records state the artist once named a dog “Pugg”, but the names of any others are unknown. Pugs frequently appear in Hogarth’s paintings, including group portraits of the Fountaine (1735) and Strode (1738) families. It is unlikely the pugs belonged to either family, instead, Hogarth included it as a trademark, thus earning him the nickname the “Painter Pugg”. A pug featured in one of the scenes of Hogarth’s A Rake’s Progress(1732-34) plus in a portrait of Lord George Graham (1715-47), a Scottish officer of the Royal Navy.
So synonymous was Hogarth with pugs, French sculptor Louis-François Roubiliac (1702-62) produced a terracotta model of Trump to accompany a statue of the artist. In 2001, Ian Hislop (b.1960) and David Hockney (b.1937) unveiled a statue of Hogarth in Chiswick. Made by Jim Mathieson (1931-2003), the sculpture features the artist in a similar outfit to his portrait with Trump sat at his feet.
A young lady holding a pug dog – François Boucher (1703-77)
A stark contrast between A young lady holding a pug dog by François Boucher with Hogarth’s painting is the physical features of the dog. Today, the breed is recognised for its distinctive wrinkly, short-muzzled face and curled tail. Trump’s face does not fit this description, suggesting that either Hogarth could not draw pugs or the animal was a cross-breed. Alternatively, until the 18th-century, when it became popular to own a pug, many people referred to ugly canines as pugs. It is for this lack of beauty that Boucher included a pug in his portrait of a young lady.
“The little Pug dog or Dutch mastiff has quitted London for Padua, I perceive. Every carriage I meet here has a Pug in it.” So said Welsh author Hester Piozzi (1741-1821) during a trip to Italy in 1789. Bred as lap dogs, pugs became the most desired companions of wealthy women across Europe. Rococo painter Boucher used the animal to contrast with his sitter’s beauty in A young lady holding a pug dog (c.1740). The lady in question is Boucher’s wife Marie-Jeanne Buseau (1716-96), dressed in the silks and fashions of 18th-century France. The paleness of skin accentuated with rouge, a beauty spot, and powdered hair was the epitome of beauty, but to emphasise this further, Boucher included her ugly pug as a contrast. At this time, dogs also had sexual connotations in paintings, but critics do not believe this to be the case in this portrait.
Nude Woman with a Dog – Gustave Courbet (1819-77)
An example of a dog representing sexual relationships is Nude Woman with a Dog (1862) by Gustave Courbet. The nude model, Courbet’s mistress Léontine Renaude, leans towards the dog as though to give it an affectionate kiss. At the time of its first exhibition, critics described this painting as highly erotic.
The woman’s body echoes the works of Titian (1488-1576), but her face is plain and ordinary. Courbet tried to bring the classical nude to the modern-day by removing the goddess-like beauty from the image. In Titian’s day, a small dog symbolised fidelity, but the model’s interaction with the animal breaks this definition. Although the painting does not suggest that she is in love with the dog, the signs of affection erase the innocence from the picture, replacing it with the metaphor of sensual love. Responding to the attention, the dog represents a complicit lover.
Still Life with Three Puppies – Paul Gauguin (1848-1903)
Whilst living with experimental painters in Brittany, Paul Gauguin painted Still Life with Three Puppies (1888). The canvas is divided into three parts: a still-life of fruit, a diagonal barrier of wine glasses, and three puppies drinking from a large pan. This artwork marks Gauguin’s transition from Impressionism to the experimental style of his contemporaries, such as Émile Bernard (1868-1941) and Vincent van Gogh (1853-90).
Whilst still-life paintings tend to depict the scene in front of the artist, the inclusion of the wine glasses and puppies suggest Gauguin painted this particular artwork either from his imagination or from several sources. The wine glasses are disproportionate to the scale and perspective of the image, and the puppies appear to be on the table, suggesting they are doll-size creatures.
Gauguin’s new style is more evident when looking at the puppies rather than the other elements. He painted them with a blue outline, and their fur appears to be the same texture as the table cloth. Gauguin declared art is created “from nature while dreaming before it.” This observation explains the unrealistic qualities of the three animals. Gauguin also drew inspiration from Japanese art, which tended to have a two-dimensional viewpoint.
Howling Dog – Paul Klee (1879-1940)
Paul Klee goes a step further with his unrealistic painting of a Howling Dog (1928). Rather than depicting an accurate appearance of a dog, Klee focused on sound. With meandering lines, Klee drew the shape of a dog howling at a moon. The dog’s howl is also visualised in the same manner and accentuated by swirling colours.
The howl, rather than the dog, is the dominant feature of the painting. Although painting is a visual medium, Klee tried to combine another of the senses. Life is both a visual and aural experience, and Klee is inviting the audience to try to hear his work as well as see it. A painting of a dog is usually static and posed, but in reality, dogs are full of movement and noise. While looking at Howling Dog, people can imagine the baying sound breaking the silence of the night. It is as though the dog is telling the world he is there, that he exists.
Children with taco – Diego Rivera (1886-1957)
Mexican artist Diego Rivera created many murals for the Secretariat of Public Education. Children with taco (1932) is a lithograph of one section of a mural, which Rivera wished to save in case of any damage to the original. The print shows a young boy eating a taco while a hairless dog sits patiently waiting for a crumb to fall. This dog, a Xoloitzcuintle, receives attention for its hairlessness and wrinkles, and since 2016, it is a cultural heritage and symbol of Mexico City.
Both Rivera and his wife, Frida Kahlo (1907-54), depicted the Xoloitzcuintle in their artwork. As well as being popular pets, the history of the breed dates back to the Aztecs. The name Xoloitzcuintle comprises Xolotl, the Aztec sun god, and “itzkuintli”, which means both “dog” and “slave”. According to Aztec religion, a Xoloitzcuintle accompanied the deceased along the path to the afterlife. For this reason, the Aztecs kept dogs as pets, which they then slaughtered and buried with their masters.
While their masters lived, Xoloitzcuintles served as guard dogs. Rather than guarding houses against intruders, the dogs protected their owners from evil spirits. The Aztecs also believed Xoloitzcuintles aided healing and often allowed the dogs to sleep in their beds. In some instances, this is true because a dog’s warmth can help relieve pain from arthritis and bring comfort to the distressed. There is also evidence of a dog’s presence normalising blood pressure. The more obscure health properties of a Xoloitzcuintle included curing toothache, headaches, asthma, and gastrointestinal problems.
Dogs – Hashimoto Kansetsu (1883-1945)
The peonies in a painting by Hashimoto Kansetsu are typical of nihonga (20th-century Japanese paintings). The dog, on the other hand, is inspired by western cultures. The artwork belongs to a series called Dogs from Europe, in which the artist combined traditional Japanese art with modern animal themes. In Japanese art, peonies and lions usually featured together, but Hashimoto daringly replaced the wild animals with dogs.
In Japan, peonies are known as the King of Flowers and represent bravery, fortune and honour. In China, where Hashimoto spent some time each year, the flowers represented wealth and were a favourite of past Emperors. Lions symbolise power, protection and strength, but the meaning of dogs is more ambiguous. In Japanese folklore, a racoon dog is a mischievous creature and a master of disguise. By replacing a lion with a dog, Hashimoto not only introduced elements of the western world to his artwork but also moved away from long-standing Japanese traditions.
Hashimoto fell in love with Europe after a trip in 1921, including a love of European animals.Throughout his career, Hashimoto owned up to 50 dogs, which he studied carefully for his paintings. Many breeds came from Europe, which made his artworks unusual to Japanese spectators.
Puppy – Jeff Koons (b.1955)
The final artwork Google Arts & Culture included in their online exhibition is a 40-foot high West Highland terrier made from flowers. Jeff Koons produced Puppy (1992) for the Kaldor Public Art Project in 1995, where it stood outside Sydney’s Museum of Contemporary Art. Today, the floral sculpture stands guard outside the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao, Spain, where it fills viewers with awe.
Koons intended the public sculpture to instil confidence and security, plus entice and create optimism. Others have derived alternative meanings from the artwork, including references to past and present eras. Koons used a computer to design the giant model, whereas the flowers resemble an 18th-century garden. It is also a combination of high and low brow culture, topiary and dog breeding being high and greeting card images low.
West Highland terriers are not the usual choice for guard dogs, but they are known for their loving heart and loyalty. They are typically small, making them an ironic choice for a large sculpture, but they are also friendly-looking and comforting. Today, most people identify the artwork as a symbol of love and happiness.
As Google Arts & Culture proved, dogs have been part of human culture for centuries. Whether serving as hunters or companions, dogs appear in artworks across the world. Other animals also appear in paintings, but it is typically dogs that sit patiently at the feet of their masters or on the laps of their mistresses, providing protection and love. Admittedly, not everyone is keen on dogs yet, in the United Kingdom, there are over 10.1 million pet dogs, suggesting 24% of the population own one, which is more than any other animal. So, was Frederick the Great of Prussia right when he stated a dog was man’s best friend? Perhaps we should ask a dog. Woof!
To view the Google Arts & Culture exhibition, click here.
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“To this day, I remember him lost in a mountain of papers.”
– Jaume Sabartés
Pablo Picasso was one of the most influential artists in the 20th century and is remembered for founding the Cubist movement. His paintings are recognised by his radical style and characteristics of Surrealism, although he was never part of the Surrealist movement. Yet, there was so much more to Picasso’s talents that have been overshadowed by his revolutionary artistic accomplishments. This year (2020), the Royal Academy of Arts brings Picasso’s fascination with paper to the foreground, displaying more than 300 works that span his 80-year career, many of which are hard to believe are his.
“Some day there will undoubtedly be a science… which will seek to learn more about man in general through the study of creative man. I often think about such a science, and I want to leave to posterity a documentation that will be as complete as possible.”
– Picasso
It appears Picasso kept everything – drawings, prints, designs, photographs, manuscripts, poems, doodles on newspapers, ideas scribbled on scrap paper – and the Royal Academy have sorted through the items to create a chronological exhibition entitled Picasso and Paper. Unlike the exhibition Picasso 1932 – Love, Fame, Tragedy at Tate Modern in 2018, which focused on a single year, the Royal Academy attempts to look at every aspect of Picasso’s career. By studying the diversity and range of Picasso’s use of paper, both in preparatory works and final outcomes, the exhibition reveals the mobility of his intelligence and provides a deeper understanding of his work.
Dove and Dog, Picasso age 8
Pablo Diego José Francisco de Paula Juan Nepomuceno María de los Remedios Cipriano de la Santísima Trinidad Ruiz y Picasso, named after a series of saints and relatives, was born in Málaga, Spain in 1881 to Don José Ruiz y Blasco (1836-1913) and María Picasso y López. He began showing an artistic talent from a young age and his mother claimed his first word was “piz”, short of lápiz, the Spanish word for pencil. Picasso’s father was a painter, specialising in still life, landscape and pigeons, and gave Picasso his first art lessons in 1888. In 1891, Picasso attended his father’s ornamental drawing classes at the Escuela de Bellas Artes in A Coruña. By the age of ten, Picasso had surpassed his father in artistic talent.
The family moved to Barcelona in 1895 following the death of Picasso’s younger sister Conchita from Diptheria. Despite the sad time, Picasso enrolled at the School of Fine Arts, being admitted to the advanced class at the young age of 13. At 16, his father decided to send him to Madrid’s Real Academia de Bellas Artes de San Fernando, although he stopped attending after a few days, preferring to study the paintings in the Prado.
Seated Woman with a Shawl, 1899
The Woman in the Blue Hat (Jane Avril), 1901
Academically, Picasso was a realist painter, however, from 1897 he began to show elements of Symbolism, adding unnatural colours to his work. In 1900, Picasso made his first trip to Paris where he shared an apartment with the French Poet Max Jacob (1876-1944), however, severe poverty forced him to return to Madrid the following year.
In 1901, Picasso was heavily impacted by the suicide of his friend Carlos Casamegas (1880-1901). Having met in 1899, they quickly became friends and travelled across Spain together. Casamegas went to Paris with Picasso, however, there were signs his mental health was suffering. It is believed Casamegas shot himself after a rejected marriage proposal.
Casamegas’ death led to the development of what is now known as Picasso’s “Blue Period”. As well as his friend’s death, the works produced during this period (1901-04) express his feelings of loneliness and life in poverty. The majority of his paintings at this time were rendered in shades of blue and blue-green. Subjects included sad-looking women with children, prostitutes, beggars and his recently deceased friend.
Woman with Lock of Hair, 1903
La Vie (Life), 1903
Self-Portrait, 1901
The Royal Academy displays pen and ink studies Picasso made when planning his painting La Vie. The sketches reveal he originally intended to include himself in the painting as though it were set in his studio. By studying these papers, we learn how Picasso approached a painting by experimenting with ideas before applying paint to canvas. By the time he started painting, the figure of himself had become a likeness of his friend Casagemas.
The Frugal Meal, 1904
During his Blue Period, Picasso was introduced to the technique of etching by the Catalan artist Ricard Canals (1876-1931). This printmaking technique, also known as drypoint, involves scratching very fine lines onto a copper plate. The plate is then inked and laid face-down on a piece of paper, which is then squeezed through a printing press. By this process, the image is transferred onto the paper.
Picasso’s debut etching is entitled The Frugal Meal, which depicts an emaciated blind man and sighted woman sitting at a table. A very sparse meal is laid out in front of them, which is not enough for one person let alone two. Blindness was another key theme during Picasso’s Blue Period.
When Picasso made his first engraving, he was also living in poverty and could not afford to purchase a copper plate. Instead, he scraped down a previously used plate, which resulted in a few unintended lines in the background of his etching.
Boy with Cattle, 1906
Head of a Woman, in Profile, 1905
In 1904, Picasso returned to France, leaving his Blue Period behind in Barcelona. Inspired by French performers at the Cirque Madrano, clowns, dancers, acrobats and harlequins, Picasso began a new period: his Rose Period (1904-06). Tinged with the colour pink, these paintings expressed his melancholy feelings towards the lives of these performers. Nonetheless, the pinks and oranges have a much lighter tone than his Blue Period.
As well as painting, Picasso continued to produce etchings and drypoints, culminating in his first significant series, the Saltimbanques Suite. These included portraits of performers and scenes at the circus.
Some critics believe Picasso’s change from Blue to Rose was sparked by his relationship with Fernande Olivier (1881-1966) who was a French artist and model that Picasso met in Paris. They became lovers and their relationship lasted seven years. In 1906, Picasso and Olivier spent the summer at Gósol in the Spanish Pyrenees, which inspired another painting theme. Sticking to the red and orange tones, Picasso began painting the landscape and locals in a stylised way, moving further away from the realist art of his youth. With Olivier as a willing model, he also became more interested in representing the female nude.
Study for Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, 1907
Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, 1907
The Royal Academy devotes one room of the exhibition to Picasso’s Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, which he painted in 1907, although they only have a digital reproduction of the final artwork. Around the room are examples of studies and preparatory sketches Picasso produced when planning what would become one of the most revolutionary paintings in the history of art. His sketchbooks suggest the composition was originally going to include a sailor and a medical student in a brothel, however, the final result only featured women.
At first, Les Demoiselles d’Avignon may appear to be a continuation of his Rose Period, however, it was actually the beginning of his African Art and Primitivism Period (1907-09). Picasso had become fascinated with Iberian sculptures that were produced between the Bronze Age and the Roman Conquest. Iberian art, mostly sculptures, was largely inspired by the Greeks, the Phoenicians and Oriental countries and tended to use blocks of shapes rather than carefully sculpted realistic dimensions. Picasso liked this idea of simplification and experimented with it in his sketchbooks.
In 1907, Picasso visited the ethnographic museum at Palais du Trocadéro where he saw and was impressed by African artefacts. This encouraged him to continue to experiment and simplify his drawings into abstract, geometric shapes. Picasso began to reject the teaching of Western art, particularly in terms of perspective, squeezing scenes together into compressed spaces.
Picasso’s sketchbooks are an invaluable resource, providing insight into his transformation from realism to abstract. As time went on, his drawings became flatter, rigid and geometric like the ancient Iberian sculptures. The African influence is obvious in the mask-like faces some of his characters portray.
Les Demoiselles d’Avignon was not publically displayed until 1916, partly because of the shock and revulsion his new style received. Picasso’s rival Henri Matisse (1869-1954) initially assumed this “savage” style was a hoax and he was not the only artist to make snide comments. Fortunately, the French painter Georges Braque (1882-1963) saw potential in Picasso’s new direction.
Head of a Woman, 1909
Man with a Guitar, 1911
From 1909, Braque began working closely with Picasso, exploring the directions Picasso’s latest style could go. Together they developed what we now know as Cubism, however, this is a broad term for the style that quickly spread across Paris and then Europe. Art critic Louis Vauxcelles (1870-1934) coined the word “cubism”, however, Picasso’s work can be separated into Analytic Cubism and Synthetic Cubism.
Analytic Cubism (1909-12) is the style of painting Picasso and Braque developed, which involved using monochrome or neutral colours. Rather than painting what they could see, they mentally took apart the objects and analysed their shapes and forms, then put them backed together like a jumbled jigsaw puzzle.
This style was not restricted to painting, for instance, Head of a Woman, which Picasso sculpted and cast in bronze. The woman is Fernande Olivier, however, rather than producing a likeness, Picasso analysed the form and shape of her head and facial features. In several sketches, Picasso explored the structure of Olivier’s appearance from various angles, fusing different sections and viewpoints together. The final result was based on several sketches merged together.
Violin, 1912
Synthetic Cubism (1912-19) was a further development of the genre made primarily by Picasso. Rather than painting, it involved the use of paper, often in fragments, which were pasted together to make a collage. By using pins, glue, newspaper, wrapping paper and wallpaper, Picasso began making papier collé (pasted paper) paintings by adding elements of collage to his paintings or drawings. This then developed into entire compositions made from paper.
Picasso’s favourite items to depict in this style appear to have been pipes, glasses, guitars or violins. These objects could easily be flattened and recognised through geometric shapes. Occasionally, Picasso would make three-dimensional models of the instruments, however, they retained their Cubist style and would not have functioned properly had they been real.
The outbreak of World War I temporarily separated Picasso and Braque, the latter who was called to join the French army, and Picasso’s artwork became more sombre. This was partly due to the devestation of war but mostly due to the death of his new lover. Olivier and Picasso had split and he had become infatuated with Eva Gouel (real name Marcelle Humbert). Many of his Cubist works expressed his love for Eva and he was devestated when she died from an illness in 1915 at the age of 30.
With his friends gone to war, Picasso sought out other social circles and became involved with Serge Diaghilev’s (1872-1929) Ballets Russes. Picasso was commissioned to design the costumes and set for Jean Cocteau’s (1889-1963) Parade, with music by Erik Satie (1866-1925). The musical score lasted fifteen minutes and involved the sounds of horns and engines to represent the chaos of modern life.
Cubism was still at the forefront of Picasso’s art, therefore, it is no surprise that his designs for Parade were influenced by this. Complicated costumes merged the elements Satie was trying to evoke through his music, including, car horns, high-rise buildings and typewriters.
Whilst working on Parade, Picasso married Olga Khokhlova (1891-1955) who was a ballerina in Diaghilev’s troupe. They spent their honeymoon near the Bay of Biscay in the Summer of 1918 then returned to Paris. Through his wife, Picasso attended many high society events and experienced the life of the rich, although he was still rather poor – his rent was paid by his art dealer Paul Rosenburg (1881-1959).
Igor Stravinksy, 1920
Picasso and Olga had a son, Paulo, however, their relationship was impacted by their conflicting ways of life. Olga preferred social propriety, whereas Picasso wished to retain his Bohemian lifestyle. Nonetheless, Picasso continued to work with Diaghilev’s troupe and collaborated with Igor Stravinsky (1882-1971) on his 1920 ballet Pulcinella.
Due to marital conflicts, Picasso began a secret affair with 17-year old Marie-Thérèse Walter (1909-1977). Picasso wished to divorce his wife but this would result in Olga receiving half his wealth, therefore, the couple formally separated instead. As a result, Picasso was legally married until his wife’s death in 1955 and could not marry his new lover. Marie-Thérèse lived in hope of eventual marriage, which never happened, and gave birth to Picasso’ daughter Maya out of wedlock.
Head of a Woman, 1921
Girl in a Hat with Her Hands Clasped, 1921
After the First World War, many artists became a part of the “return to order” movement that swept across Europe. The upheaval of the war caused people to reflect on what life used to be like and for artists, such as Picasso, this involved attempting to recreate the art and culture of classical antiquity. Thus, Neoclassicism was born.
This period, which lasted from 1919 until 1924, is largely omitted from Picasso’s portfolio and visitors to the Royal Academy’s exhibition may be surprised by the abrupt change in style. Picasso made his first trip to Italy in 1917 where he came across many examples of classicism. By using a similar range of media that classical painters used, such as red chalk, and pastels, Picasso produced exaggerated figures, emphasising the round facial features rather than cutting them up as he would have done in a cubist portrait.
Guitar, 1926
Visage (Face of Marie-Thérèse), 1928
Sculpture, Head of a Woman, 1931-2
Picasso’s Neoclassical period was short-lived and he soon returned to his former Cubist style. He continued to collage together different materials, including paper, string, cloth and nails, to make the shape of an object, such as a guitar. By 1925, however, he had caught the eye of another group of artists, the Surrealists. Whilst Picasso never officially joined the movement, his work inspired the leader André Breton (1896-1966) who declared him “one of us”. Picasso was invited to participate in the first Surrealist group exhibition, although he chose to display examples of his Cubist work.
A handful of sketchbooks suggest Picasso was influenced by Surrealist art, although he did not find the manifesto of the group appealing. His series of constructed guitars is similar to works or “found objects” by Surrealist artists and his style of line drawing underwent a transformation. Picasso began experimenting with irrational scale and morphing segments of an image together.
His relationship with Marie-Thérèse inspired many of Picasso’s works, particularly of an erotic nature. She appears in over 40 of his supposedly sexualised drawings of a woman’s head, which led to a sculpture of a woman with an irrationally large nose. A lithograph of Marie-Thérèse’s visage proves the nose is not based on any semblance of truth.
Minotaur, 1933
Minotaur and the Dead Mare before a Cave, with a girl in a Veil, 1936
Minotaur, No.1, 1933
In the early 1930s, Picasso developed an alter ego that he used in his art to express issues in his personal life. This was the half-man, half-bull, lustful minotaur from Greek mythology. Picasso identified with its strength and masculinity and it also alluded back to his childhood and love of Spanish bull-fighting.
The minotaur was known for its ability to overpower women and Picasso attempted to demonstrate this in his drawings, mostly of a sexual nature. The women in his artworks often resembled the women in his life at the time: Olga, Marie-Thérèse and a new lover, Dora Maar (1907-97). The violence of his subject matter may be reflective of the psychological tensions between Picasso and these women.
La Femmes à leur toilette, 1937
The Weeping Woman. VI, 1937
Seated Woman (Dora), 1938
As well as issues in his personal life, Picasso was affected by the Great Depression and the Spanish Civil War. Up until now, Picasso was against mixing politics and art, however, the 1936 uprising of the fascist General Francisco Franco (1892-1975) changed this. Picasso produced a series of etchings showing Franco brutally murdering people.
At this time, Picasso was asked to paint a mural for the Republic’s pavilion at the Paris World Fair of 1937. Initially, Picasso explored the idea of portraying an artist’s studio, however, after the German bombing of the Basque city of Guernica on 26th April 1937, which resulted in hundreds of innocent deaths, Picasso changed his line of thinking. Guernica has become Picasso’s most famous work and the evolution of the painting can be seen in his sketchbooks and through photographs taken by his lover Dora Maar. Whilst considered to be one of the most powerful war paintings, not everyone understands the meaning of the different elements. Picasso, however, refused to explain, saying, “It isn’t up to the painter to define the symbols. Otherwise it would be better if he wrote them out in so many words! The public who look at the picture must interpret the symbols as they understand them.”
After the World Fair, Guernica was displayed as the centrepiece of an exhibition that toured Scandinavia and England, alongside paintings by Matisse and Braque. When Franco won the Spanish Civil War, the painting was sent to the United States to help raise funds for Spanish refugees. It was displayed in the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) in New York City, where a major retrospective of Picasso’s principal works was also held.
Meanwhile, Picasso continued to depict the grief and anxiety caused by the war, particularly in his Weeping Woman series, which was modelled on Dora Maar. A large collage of cut-out wallpaper, which was eventually produced as a tapestry twenty years later, is believed to show the same women Picasso depicted in Guernica. Femmes à leur toilette contains three figures that some have identified as Olga (left), Dora (centre) and Marie-Thérèse (right).
Study for Man with a Sheep, 1943
Man with a Sheep, 1943
When the Second World War broke out, Picasso decided to remain in Paris during the German occupation. His paintings did not conform to Nazi ideals, therefore, his home was often searched by the Gestapo. On one occasion, an officer found a photograph of Guernica and asked if Picasso had done it. The artist replied, “No, you did.”
Sketchbooks from the period show Picasso continued with his paintings but, most interestingly, designed sculptures. Bronze casting was outlawed by the Germans, however, Picasso managed to use bronze smuggled in by the French Resistance. Sketches for Man with a Sheep show the man getting progressively older until Picasso settled on a thin, balding man. The sculpture is believed to be a response to the war, particularly the lives of innocent civilians caught up in the lives of soldiers and weapons. The sketches contribute as much emotion as the final sculpture. In an interview with Picasso, his drawing technique and medium were likened to coagulated blood.
As another means of expressing his emotions, Picasso began composing poetry. Between the beginning of the Second World War and 1959, Picasso wrote at least 300 poems. The Royal Academy displays pages containing his poetry, illustrations and scribbles, the latter which are as expressive as his words.
Portrait of Françoise, 1946
In 1944, after the liberation of Paris, Picasso grew tired of Dora and sought the affection of a young art student, Françoise Gilot (b.1921). Although she was forty years younger than Picasso, they began to live together and had two children, Claude (b.1947) and Paloma (b.1949). Françoise later described her relationship with Picasso as abusive and claimed he had affairs with other women at the same time, for example, Geneviève Laporte (1926-2012), who featured in many portraits. Françoise eventually left Picasso, taking their children with her.
Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe, 1863
Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe, 1960
During his turbulent relationship with Françoise and other lovers, Picasso returned to admiring the artists he had looked up to as a young painter. He was particularly fascinated with Édouard Manet’s (1832-83) Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe (Luncheon on the grass), which had sparked controversy and was ill-received when first displayed in 1836. “When I see Manet’s Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe, I think there will be trouble later on,” noted Picasso. The painting reveals a nude woman picnicking with two fully dressed men.
Picasso recorded his response to the painting in his sketchbooks, making over 150 drawings of the subject in his own style. Twenty-seven of these became paintings and others inspired watercolours, linocuts and three-dimensional cardboard cutouts. Picasso also reproduced works by other artists, Eugène Delacroix’s (1798-1863) Femmes d’Alger dans leur appartement (Women of Algiers in Their Apartment).
Jacqueline Dressed as a Bride Full Face 1, 1961
Head of a Woman, 1962
Self-Portrait, 1972
In his 70s, Picasso made and painted ceramics at the Madoura Pottery in Vallauris on the French Riviera where he met his next lover, Jacqueline Roque (1927-86). He began seeing Jacqueline before his relationship with Françoise had ended, who was plotting to marry Picasso to secure the rights of her children as legitimate heirs of the artist. As a means of revenge, Picasso married Jacqueline in secret in 1961.
By this time, Picasso was an international celebrity and lived in a Gothic mansion with Jacqueline and could afford luxury villas in the south of France. Nonetheless, he continued working and accepting commissions, the majority of which were sculptures. The Royal Academy, however, continues to focus on his works involving paper, such as sketches, prints and cuts outs.
Picasso had the ability to manipulate paper in new and unusual ways, for example, a free-standing paper sculpture of Head of a Woman. The woman, presumably Jacqueline, was initially drawn in pencil, then cut and folded so that she could stand upright. The image looks similar to versions Picasso painted on canvas in the past.
Towards the end of the exhibition, the Royal Academy shows a clip from the documentary Le Mystère Picasso by Henri-Georges Clouzot (1907-77), which captures on film the processes Picasso went through when producing a work of art. What may start as one subject (for instance, a chicken) may become a different subject entirely (for instance, a woman’s face).
Picasso’s final works were a complex mix of styles, however, due to his age, many dismissed them as slapdash works of an artist past his prime. By then, he was in his 90s and very aware of his own mortality. This is evidenced in one of his final self-portraits in which he depicted himself as a skull with terrified eyes and a mouth tied shut (either that or he had not aged well!).
Regardless of how they were received, Picasso continued producing artworks until his death on 8th April 1973. He was entertaining friends with his wife when he suffered pulmonary oedema and heart failure. Whilst Picasso’s past lovers had reported violence and abuse, his relationship with Jacqueline lasted until his final breath. Devastated by his death, Jacqueline shot herself nine years later, passing away at the age of 59. Marie-Thérèse, who Picasso had continued to support financially, killed herself four years after Picasso’s death.
Picasso and Paper reveals the side of Picasso that has been hidden from the world for so long. Everyone knows of his abstract portraits and his cubist paintings, however, his early years, collages and sketchbooks are rarely exhibited. By working chronologically through his life, the Royal Academy has focused more on Picasso’s process rather than his outcomes. Some people may argue that his work appears random, haphazard and thrown-together, however, this exhibition proves a lot more thought went into his work than it might appear.
The exhibition Picasso and Paper is open until 13th April 2020. Tickets cost between £18 and £22 but Friends of the RA can visit for free. Visitors are advised to allow two hours for their visit.
Entering the Antony Gormley exhibition at the Royal Academy of Arts is almost like walking onto a construction site. Full of dense, hard-edged steel slabs, visitors navigate around building-like constructions to get to the next room. Overwhelmed by the stark, geometric shapes, it is easy to miss the human forms that the sculptures are representing. Open until 3rd December 2019, the human body plays a large role in Gormley’s latest exhibition in ways you would least expect.
Unlike most solo exhibitions, there is no history of Gormley’s life or 45-year career. There is no explanation about his style of work or artistic movement. Instead, the only story in the exhibition is the one visitors bring with them. With many interactive exhibits, Gormley’s aim is for everyone to come away with unique, individual experiences. He invites people to slow down, become more aware of their bodies and rethink their understanding of the connection between body and mind.
Sir Antony Mark David Gormley was born on 30th August 1950, the youngest of seven children to a German mother and Irish father. Growing up in the suburbs of London, Gormley attended the Benedictine boarding school Ampleforth College in North Yorkshire before enrolling at Trinity College, Cambridge to study archaeology, anthropology and the history of art. Despite being brought up in a Roman Catholic family, Gormley travelled to India and Sri Lanka to learn more about Buddhism. On return from his time abroad, he began attending Saint Martin’s School of Art and Goldsmiths in London, finally completing a postgraduate course in sculpture at the Slade School of Fine Art.
Iron Baby 1999
Whilst at the Slade, Gormley met his future assistant and, as of 1980, wife, Vicken Parsons (b.1957). The couple have since been blessed with two sons and a daughter, the latter was the inspiration for the first sculpture in the exhibition. Situated on the floor of the courtyard where anyone could trip over it is a small iron cast of a newborn baby. Cast from Gormely’s 6-week old daughter, the life-size baby is made from the same material as the core of planet Earth. Gormley aims to make visitors aware of our “precarious position in relation to our planetary future.” The curled up body of the baby represents a need for shelter, comfort and peace.
Antony Gormley’s career began with a solo exhibition at the Whitechapel Gallery in 1981. The majority of his sculptures were based on the human body, often cast from his physique. In 2006, with the help of 350 Chinese villagers, Gormley submitted an installation of 180,000 small clay figures to the 2006 Sydney Biennale and in 2007, 31 life-size casts of his body were installed on top of public buildings along the South Bank of the River Thames.
Slabworks series, 2019
Gormley began making cubist sculptures in 2012, similar to the Slabworks installed in the first room of the exhibition. Despite being made of geometric shapes, each sculpture is positioned in the vague shapes of human bodies, whether standing, sitting, curled up or lying down. Those visitors who are unaware of the significance of the shapes could be forgiven for mistaking them to be the layout of cityscapes, ourselves being giants navigating our way around them, careful not to cause any disruption or damage.
Gormley won the Turner Prize in 1994 for Field for the British Isles, which consisted of 35,000 miniature figures, which is in keeping with his fascination of the human body. Of course, Gormley is most famous for his Angel of the North, one of the UK’s most famous public art sculptures located in Gateshead, Tyne and Wear. Constructed from steel, the angel is 20 metres (66 feet) tall with large geometric wings spanning 54 metres (177 feet).
Not all of Gormley’s work involves representations of the human body. The second room of the exhibition explores some of his earlier works produced in the 1970s and early 80s. During this time, Gormley experimented with different materials and everyday items, for example, an apple. His installation One Apple bisects the room with a row of 53 lead cases of increasing size. The cases record the growth of an apple from the first fallen petal to the ripening of the fruit. Originally constructed during the Cold War, Gormley used lead to encase the individual pieces for two reasons; one, it was an easy, malleable material to work with and, two, it is a material that can insulate against radiation. Gormley’s reason for wrapping objects in protective material is to make people think about how they wrap and protect their own bodies.
Mother’s Pride V
Gormley’s most unconventional choice of material is arguably the bread he used to construct Mother’s Pride in 1982. Reconstructed for the fifth time for this exhibition, the shape of a curled-up body has been cut out of a hundred or so wax-covered slices of bread. The edges of the figure are jagged, suggesting the artist has eaten the bread to achieve the result. By consuming food, we keep our body alive. In this instance, the foetal position of the figure could suggest a baby in a mother’s womb; therefore, the mother is eating to keep both herself and the child within alive and well.
Overhead, a highly tensioned steel bar zips across the room and into another where it meets a second bar going in a different direction. A third bar travels from the ceiling to the floor, completing an abstract notion of the x, y and z-axes on a graph. Gormley’s aim to heighten our awareness of our position in space and time. Wherever we go, our location can be pinpointed using the horizontal and vertical lines on a graph to plot the coordinates.
Clearing VII, 2019.
Visitors become part of the exhibition on entering the third room. Full from ceiling to floor and wall to wall with a continuous eight-kilometre coil of aluminium wire, visitors must navigate their way through to reach the next room. The curls of wire feel like a three-dimensional representation of a child’s energetic scribble. As a sculpture, Clearing VII has no boundaries, the walls of the room are the only parameters; had the room been bigger or smaller, the result would have a completely different look.
By entering the bundle of wire, visitors become part of the installation as they physically negotiate their way through. Bending under, side-stepping and climbing over low sections, a path is eventually navigated through to the room on the opposite side. If the wires are likened to confusion, the journey through them represents the way we solve the problem. The tighter the coils, the harder the problem.
Having traversed the wire-filled room, the next sculpture is a bit of an anticlimax. Subject II is a single life-size body constructed from tightly packed steel bars. With its head bent, contemplating the ground on which it stands, the sculpture is studied from all sides as people make their way around it. Due to the varying horizontal and verticle segments, the sculpture appears to change its appearance when looked at from different positions. Then it is back through the eight-kilometres of wire to reach the next room of the exhibition.
As well as completed sculptures, the exhibition features four decades worth of Gormley’s preliminary work. Hundreds of sketchbooks fill display cases revealing the thought processes and drawings Gormley made before sourcing materials and making his ideas reality. Several of the sculptures on display can be recognised in the sketchbooks as well as other works, such as Angel of the North.
Rather than detailed sketches, Gormley prefers to make rough scribbles. It is more important for him to get his thoughts down on paper than it is to produce accurate representations. Except for this exhibition, Gormley’s sketchbooks are for his eyes only; the presentation of the drawings are irrelevant.
The drawings show the progression of Gormley’s thoughts and the realisation of the outcome. The more developed sketches contain notes of materials and sizes that will be used to construct the sculptures. Not all of Gormley’s final pieces are constructed solely by himself, for instance, his Turner Prize-winning Field for the British Isles, for which he enlisted the help of 60 Mexican brickmakers.
Matrix III is an example of a sculpture that needed input from assistants. The “perpetual maze” consists of 21 intersecting cages suspended from the ceiling. Each cage is roughly the size of an average European bedroom, however, it is impossible to work out where each cage begins and ends.
“I’m trying to activate the space itself in such a way that the viewer’s body becomes activated.”
– Antony Gormley
Once again, the sculpture relies on the viewer’s curiosity and personal interpretation. By walking around it, or even under it, the perspective of the interlocking mesh changes. Gormley’s idea was to visually show the effect an increasing population is having on architecture. With high-rise buildings and blocks of flats being built left, right and centre, we as a society are beginning to live on top of each other. Gormley is asking, “what does that mean for our collective identity?”
The six-tonnes of standard steel mesh is usually used to reinforce concrete walls and lift shafts. As Gormley says, “This rebar is the inner skeleton of the environment we live in.” By only using the densely latticed steel, Gormley has stripped a growing city to its bare bones.
Lost Horizon I, 2008
The eeriest installation is hands-down Lost Horizon I. Gormley began to work with cast iron, which was suitable for works situated outside. Lost Horizon I consists of dozens of iron casts of the artist’s body. Covering himself in plaster, Gormley spent hours staying still to produce six different moulds. The iron versions have been placed around the room, climbing the walls and standing on the ceiling.
Entering the room, visitors are instantly met by an imposing naked iron man. With slightly rusted appearances, the others come into view as the crowds make their way through the installation. Some people may be familiar with Gormley’s iron men since these are not the first he has produced. Many life-size figures have been placed in deserts, fields, cities and beaches around the world. One, for example, stands in the sea in Margate, Kent, which gradually becomes hidden as the tide comes in.
Cave, 2019
The largest exhibit in terms of architectural scale is titled Cave. This is another interactive sculpture, which involves visitors making a choice: enter a constricted passageway or navigate around the outside. Those who brave entering the “cave” have to stoop to walk through a pitch-black corridor from one side of the sculpture to the middle and eventually through to the other side.
Gormley is attempting to recreate the darkness we experience when we close our eyes. We become fully aware of our bodies and the walls around us, however, we need to rely on our imagination and intuition to determine where we are in the room. Gormley likens this to cosmic space: we are bounded by our bodies on Earth yet, although we cannot go there, we can imagine the endlessness of space.
Those who opt to walk around the outside of the cave, navigate around rectangular and cuboid chunks of steel, intersected at chaotic angles. What they may not realise, however, is that if viewed from above, the shapes are arranged to look like a human form curled up on its side. In the next room, small sculptures of precariously stacked pieces of clay are laid out to produce a similar shape. In Gormley’s sketchbooks, visitors can see the thought process that went into making these sculptures.
The final room of the exhibition can only be viewed from the doorway. Titled Host, the entire room is flooded with seawater on a bed of clay. Gormley calls this an “invasion of the inside by the outside,” resulting in something beautiful, yet destructive. Unlike the rest of the exhibition, which involves structure and man-made materials, Host only uses organic elements. The walls of the gallery are the only thing giving the “sculpture” any shape.
This exhibit changes throughout the day as the natural light darkens towards the evening. The water level may recede as the months go on, gradually being absorbed into the clay. The smell of the seawater and the stark contrast of the nineteenth-century gallery also play a role in the way visitors react to the exhibit.
Is Host a work of art or is it a form of destruction? What will the state of the room be like when the exhibition closes in December? Will the floor and walls be damaged – one assumes there must be some form of protection in place. Is the water representing a flood, the destruction of the world; or is it the total opposite, a creation of some sort? There is no explanation, only the interpretation of each individual peering through the door.
It is interesting to see the different reactions of people passing by the entrance to the room. Some take a glance and move on, whereas others stop and stare for a little while. It is impossible to determine what they are thinking but many are no doubt captivated by the reflection of the wooden door in the water. It is not a reflection you often get to see in seawater.
Host marks the end of the Antony Gormley exhibition and people are thrust out into the gift shop with thoughts ranging from “wow” to “what on earth was that about?” Having been a Royal Academician since 2003 and an OBE since 2014, Gormley had hundreds of works to choose between to display in the exhibition and, presumably, these are some of his best or at least most thought-provoking.
It is impossible to sum up the Antony Gormley exhibition. You do not come away having learnt something, you still know next to nothing about the artist. Has Gormley achieved what he set out to do; have we been inspired to self-reflect and challenge the status quo?
“Art becomes this proposition that invites you to rethink what the world is, and your position in it. In the end, the raw material of this exhibition is the psyche, the bodies, the people who come and indeed the feeling that they make together. That is not something that can be moulded or carved or cast, and that’s what makes the whole thing worth doing, because I want to move people. Can we care? Can we look at things anew?”
– Antony Gormley
The Antony Gormley exhibition is open until 3rd December 2019. Tickets are priced between £18 and £22. Please note that some exhibits are not suitable for people sensitive to enclosed spaces or those with mobility problems.
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Walking into the Rodin and the art of ancient Greeceexhibition at the British Museum brings visitors face to face with The Kiss, one of Rodin’s most famous sculptures. This special exhibition explores the influence the museum had on Rodin’s work, which he visited for the first time in 1881. Home to the Elgin marbles, Rodin was instantly captivated by the beauty of the ancient Parthenon sculptures. Containing a mix of Rodin’s work and the early masterpieces, the British Museum explores how the ancient world influenced his aesthetic imagination.
“Your beautiful museums, with their marvellous collections, Greek, Assyrian, and Egyptian, awakened in me a flood of sensations, which is not new, had at any rate a rejuvenating influence, and those sensations caused me to follow Nature all the more closely in my studies.”
– Auguste Rodin
The French sculptor Auguste Rodin (François-Auguste-René Rodin, 1840-1917) was one of the most influential European artists of the period and the first since the heyday of Neoclassicism to engage the public with his form of art. Although he is now a famous name, his background was not so propitious. Rodin came from a poor background, the second child of Marie Cheffer and Jean-Baptiste Rodin. He was mostly homeschooled until age 14 when he attended the Petite École, a school that specialised in art and mathematics, however, his application for further study at the École des Beaux-Arts, was rejected on three separate occasions. For many years, Rodin worked as an ornamental mason but he aspired to be something of much more importance.
Rodin’s first major influence, before he visited the British Museum, was Michelangelo (1475-1564), whose statues inspired him when he visited Italy at the end of 1875. Michelangelo’s male nudes were one of the stimuli for Rodin’s The Age of Bronze (1877), which also sits near the entrance to the exhibition. In order to produce this particular bronze statue, Rodin studied the body of a Belgian soldier, Auguste Neyt; a Roman statue of the spear-bearer Doryphoros; as well as Michelangelo’s Dying Slave (1513-16). When The Age of Bronze was first exhibited, it sparked controversy because of its naturalistic appearance. Although Rodin had sculpted it by hand, he was accused of having cast it from a live model.
The Age of Bronze, Rodin, 1877
Auguste Neyt, Model for “The Age of Bronze”
Doryphoros. Marble. Roman copy after a Greek bronze original by Polykleitos of the 5th
By 1880 at the age of 40, Rodin’s reputation had been established, earning him a commision by the Paris state to produce a decorative door for the proposed Musée des Artes Décoratifs. Entitled The Gates of Hell, Rodin poured his finest creative energy into the work for 20 years, however, the museum never came into being. Nonetheless, it resulted in 200 figures of which many formed the basis of Rodin’s most famous sculptures, such as The Kiss and The Thinker (1881-2).
The name and the figures featured on The Gates of Hell were inspired by Dante Alighieri’s (1265-1321) Divine Comedy. The individual figures, ranging in height from 15cm to 1m, represented a scene from the first section of the narrative poem, Inferno.
Through me the way into the suffering city,
Through me the way to the eternal pain,
Through me the way that runs among the lost.
Justice urged on my high artificer;
My Maker was Divine authority,
The highest Wisdom, and the primal Love.
Before me nothing but eternal things
Were made, and I endure eternally. Abandon every hope, who enter here.
The Kiss and The Thinker, both featured in the exhibition, are large marble versions of the original sculptures Rodin produced for the gate. It was normal for sculptors to produce several versions of their work in various sizes, particularly when the originals were in miniature form. In order to exhibit his work, Rodin created the larger versions that the British Museum has borrowed for this show. In fact, one cast of The Thinker sits overlooking Rodin’s grave in the garden of Meudon, where he once lived.
The Kiss, whilst seemingly romantic, has a darker side. The two figures are Paolo and Francesca, two lovers featured in The Divine Comedy, who are about to be discovered by Francesca’s husband – also Paolo’s brother. In a fit of rage, the husband/brother kills the pair; this scene is their final, bittersweet embrace.
The Thinker was designed to sit up high on The Gates of Hell, looking down on all the people wishing to enter. This was originally going to be Minos, the judge of the damned as described in Dante’s version of Hell. After the gates never came to fruition, the soon enlarged sculpture became known as The Thinker. It shows a man with an athletic body sitting with his chin resting on the back of his hand as though lost in meditation. Alternatively, art critics have interpreted it as a man in a state of depression over the tragic nature of the human condition. The pose in which he sits is typical of the sign of mourning in ancient Greek art.
Other figures from the gate are also displayed in the exhibition, however, they are significantly smaller and less impressive than the two previously mentioned. These include The Crouching Woman, Falling Man and Sister of Icarus, the latter being a character entirely made up by Rodin’s imagination.
Interspersed between Rodin’s sculptures are examples of the remains of the Parthenon marble statues produced between 438-432 BC. The majority of these have lost their heads and extremities, leaving only their torsos and upper legs intact. Nevertheless, Rodin saw the beauty in these sculptures, proclaiming, “… they are no less masterpieces for being incomplete.”
As visitors to the exhibition will notice, Rodin frequently created works that resembled these ancient Greek sculptures, complete with missing heads. He aimed to honour the remains he so admired, relying on the bodies to give expression to the figures.
The Gates of Hell
Rising Goddess
Iris
Horse of Selene
Torso of Venus
“This is real flesh! … It must have been moulded by kisses and caressess … one almost expects, when touching this torso, to find it warm.”
– Rodin, 1911, speaking about Torso of Venus
For many years, Rodin spent a large amount of his time at the British Museum; it became his second home and allowed him to visit ancient Greece without leaving London. The statues he so admired were originally from the Acropolis of Athens, which Lord Elgin (1766-1841) had brought to England in 1803; these sculptures are often referred to as the Elgin Marbles.
It is thought that many of the Elgin Marbles were designed by Pheidias (480-430 BC) who is regarded in antiquity as the greatest artist of all time. Unfortunately, the most famous of his works have not survived, notably the statue of Zeus at Olympia, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. In 447 BC, the Greek statesman, Pericles, commissioned Pheidas to produce sculptures, which would later decorate the Parthenon in Athens, in celebration of the Greek victory against the Persians at the Battle of Marathon during the Greco-Persian Wars (490 BC).
Although only fragments of the original marble statues survive, Rodin was inspired by the headless, limbless figures and deliberately appropriated this all’antica (“after the antique”) look in his own sculptures. He was particularly drawn to the way motion could be expressed in stationary stone.
During his lifetime, the process of photography was rapidly developing and artists were able to capture and study movement for the first time. Rodin, however, disliked the photographic outcomes, stating “It’s the artist who tells the truth and the photographer who lies. For in reality, time does not stand still.” (1911)
Pheidias, or other artists who worked on the Parthenon, depicted movement through the position of the body. Despite the limbs no longer existing, movement can still be detected by the angle of the torso and the drapes of the tunics or cloaks the figures wear. With this in mind, Rodin replicated the ancient master’s technique, particularly in his bronze sculpture of The Walking Man (1907). This decapitated body is full of energy, which makes it appear as though he has been walking purposefully for a length of time.
“It is not my Walking Man in himself that interests me but rather the thought of how far he has come and how far he has yet to go.”
– Rodin, 1907
The Walking Man
Cavalcade from the north frieze of the Parthenon
Whilst Rodin has a reputation for lopping off heads and appendages, he also produced a number of sculptures with all their limbs intact, for instance, The Kiss and The Thinker. Another example is a monument commisioned by the city of Calais in honour of six men who were willing to sacrifice themselves to end Edward III’s siege on Calais during the Hundred Years’ War. Fortunately, as described by the medieval writer Jean Froissart (1337-1405), one of the wealthiest of the town leaders, Eustache de Saint Pierre, volunteered as a sacrifice, followed by five other burghers, however, their lives were spared by the intervention of England’s queen, Philippa of Hainault (1310-1369), who persuaded her husband to let them go, claiming that their deaths would be a bad omen for her unborn child.
Rodin’s monument, The Burghers of Calais (1884-9), depicts the six hostages in a range of stances from anguish to courage as they anticipated the threat of death. Each figure is dressed in sackcloth and their bodies and facial expressions reveal the tension and anxiety they felt. Along with Eustache de Saint Pierre, who looks like a worn-out old man, stands Andrieu d’Andres with his head in his hands, Jean d’Aire, Pierre de Wissant and his brother Jacques, and Jean de Fiennes.
The result of Rodin’s hard work was not exactly what the civic authorities had hoped for; they were expecting something that portrayed the burghers as heroic and patriotic. Nonetheless, The Burghers of Calais is a strong example of Rodin’s radical designs.
The British Museum’s exhibition contains the bulk of Rodin’s masterpieces, beginning with The Kiss and The Thinker, and ending with The Burghers of Calais and The Walking Man. Interspersed between Rodin’s works are several ancient marble sculptures, the majority of which the British Museum already owned. What is interesting to note, aside from Rodin’s appropriation of the Parthenon sculptures, is the skill and technique used to produce such perfect figures.
It is safe to assume Rodin never actually worked the stone but rather produced plaster models for others to copy. Likewise, it is doubtful that Pheidias produced the Parthenon stones, most likely only being the designer. Nevertheless, the marble versions of Rodin’s sculptures are made to look exactly like his initial versions, complete with finger marks and indents.
To engage visitors, the museum has provided examples of the tools used to sculpt marble and the process the stone goes through, from rough edges to a smooth finish. Everyone is invited to touch and feel examples of marble during different stages of the sculpting process.
The first stage labelled “roughing out” is the least delicate of the processes. With a hammer, tools such as a pitcher and a point are struck against the stone in order to remove large, unwanted chunks. The remaining stone has a rough texture where pieces have broken away. The sculptor then applies various chisels to refine the surface and gradually shape the stone into their desired appearance. Finally, the marble is finished with a rasp or emery stone, which creates a highly polished surface.
Another technique that Rodin employed was bronze casting. For this, the artist would produce his sculpture in clay with his hands, which would then be covered in plaster by studio assistants. When dry, the plaster could be carefully removed, thus producing moulds to be sent to a foundry where it would be filled with bronze to create the final outcome. This was a particularly expensive process and Rodin only used it when he was commissioned to do so, for instance, The Burghers of Calais.
From beginning to end, Rodin and the art of ancient Greeceis set out by theme, finishing with Rodin’s ability to depict motion in his statues. It is fairly easy to navigate with a semi-one-way system ensuring that visitors get the opportunity to view everything in the exhibition. The only issue with this is in busy times queues form in order to read the information by each individual sculpture. Also, as photography is permitted, people are forever waiting to get a clear shot of the statues.
Although the sculptures are given the praise and justice they deserve, the information about Rodin himself is rather limited. Rodin is described as a radical sculptor who was not appreciated as much during his lifetime as he was after his death. Now considered one of the greatest sculptors of the 19th and 20th centuries, Rodin was ridiculed for his ideas, which were simultaneously modern and antiquated.
The information provided by the museum is only in relation to Rodin’s work or his response to the Parthenon sculptures. Missing are details about his upbringing, family life and personal factors that help connect visitors with the artist. Granted, the British Museum focuses on antiquity rather than art, but it would have been beneficial to know more about Rodin’s history. There is barely any reference to his models, particularly his lovers Gwen John (1876-1939) and Camille Claudel (1864-1943). Nor is there any meaningful acknowledgement of his 53-year relationship with Rose Beuret, whom he finally married in 1917, a mere two weeks before her death. Rodin died in November of the same year after suffering a severe bout of influenza.
“At certain times, he simply stands before his relics, meditating … How his fingers tremble when he touches these old stones!”
– Gustave Coquiot, 1917
Essentially, Rodin and the art of ancient Greeceis as much a celebration of the ancient Parthenon sculptures as it is a reflection on Rodin’s work. There is something of interest for both the historian and the artist. Although not particularly educational, it makes up for this with the brilliance and awe-inspiring nature of the sculptures on show. It is a fantastic opportunity to see Rodin’s most famous works up close and to appreciate the detail in the art of the ancient Greeks.
Rodin and the art of ancient Greece organised by the British Museum with Musée Rodin, Paris is on show until 29th July 2018. Tickets are priced at £17 per person, although discounts for certain visitors are available. Members of the British Museum can visit for free with a valid pass.
Marking the 80th anniversary of the Anschluss (annexation of Austria) on 12th March 1938 14th March – 29th April 2018
On Saturday 12th March 1938, German troops marched into Austria unopposed; Hitler was now in control. Although many Austrians welcomed the Wehrmacht with cheering, Nazi salutes and waving flags, this invasion made the country a dangerous place for thousands of people, particularly Jews. Between 1933 when Hitler began to gain power and 1945 when the era of National Socialism came to an end, approximately 130,000 Jews escaped from Austria, 30,000 of whom found refuge in Great Britain. Within this grand total, a number of artists crossed The Channel to safety and, in remembrance of the 80th anniversary of the Anschluss Österreichs, the Ben Uri Gallery produced an exhibition of over 40 works by a score of these refugees.
The Ben Uri Gallery, established in 1915 by the Russian émigré artist Lazar Berson, is dedicated to celebrating the work and lives of migrant minorities. Originally an art venue for Jewish immigrant craftsmen, the gallery’s mission is to be known as “The Art Museum for Everyone” with no ethnic, religious or other barriers.
The gallery was named after Bezalel Ben Uri or Bezalel son of Uri from the tribe of Judah who was an immigrant craftsman in the Bible. He was the master artisan in charge of creating the tabernacle for the spirit of the Lord to dwell as well as building the Ark of the Covenant, a gold-covered wooden chest in which to place the two stone tablets of the Ten Commandments.
Then the Lord said to Moses, 2 “See, I have chosen Bezalel son of Uri, the son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah, 3 and I have filled him with the Spirit of God, with wisdom, with understanding, with knowledge and with all kinds of skills— 4 to make artistic designs for work in gold, silver and bronze, 5 to cut and set stones, to work in wood, and to engage in all kinds of crafts.
– Exodus 31:1-6
As a registered charity and the only specialist art museum in Europe that focuses on the issues of identity and migration through the visual arts, the Ben Uri Gallery takes every opportunity to not only showcase the artworks of migrant minorities but to tell the world their story. Although only a small building, the curators of the exhibition Out of Austria utilised the space to display a variety of different types of art, such as paintings, graphics, sculptures and ceramics. Very few of the Austrian artists are still alive, therefore, the exhibit also served as a museum of the annexation of Austria.
Anschluss was essentially an inevitable event for the idea of grouping all the German-speaking countries together had been a subject of discussion since the ending of the Holy Roman Empire in 1806. The Austrian people were split between wanting to merge with Germany and staying loyal to the Habsburg Monarchy despite its collapse in 1918. After the Nazis came to power in 1933, the government in Austria was targetted with propaganda advocating for an Anschluss to the German Reich, including the constant repetition of the phrase Ein Volk, Ein Reich, Ein Führer (“One People, One Empire, One Leader”).
Gradually, the Austrian government withdrew, allowing Hitler to make his move to create a union between his birth country Austria and Germany, an “all-German Reich“. This had been his aim since 1925 when he wrote in his autobiography Mein Kampf, “German-Austria must be restored to the great German Motherland … People of the same blood should be in the same Reich.”
Some Austrian-born Jews began seeking refuge as early as 1933, five years before the Anschluss, as a result of Hitler’s anti-Semitic legislation. Others fled after the event in an attempt to find a place of safety, passing through various European countries, finally settling in Britain. With no homeland, livelihood or familiar culture, it was a challenge for all refugees to reestablish their lives and careers, including painters, sculptors and so forth. This exhibition not only showed the works of these artists but examined their struggles and experiences as they began to rebuild their lives.
Out of Austria was divided into sections, grouping artworks by theme rather than by artist. Some of the works express the reality of the internment many Jews faced on reaching British shores. Between 1940 and 1941, many refugees were held as “enemy aliens” in camps such as Huyton in Liverpool and the Hutchinson and Onchan camps on the Isle of Man. Despite the circumstances, the artists displayed in this gallery refused to let it stop them from doing what they do best – creating art. With limited resources, artists used whatever they could get their hands on.
Portrait of a Man: Wilhelm Hollitscher, Dachinger, 1940
One of the artists caught up in Churchill’s decree to “collar the lot” of Jewish refugees was Hugo Dachinger (1908-95), occasionally known as “Puck” who immigrated to Britain via Denmark in 1938. For the first two years, Dachinger was able to live in relative safety, however, after Churchill’s decision in June 1940 to detain “enemy aliens”, Dachinger was interred in Huyton Camp for five months, followed by a final two months in Mooragh Camp on the Isle of Man. Despite his incarceration, Dachinger continued to paint, eventually holding an exhibition of the works produced during these months entitled Art Behind Barbed Wire.
Dachinger was an Austrian Jew born in Gmunden, Upper Austria who had spent three years of study at the Leipzig School of Arts and Crafts before moving to Vienna to work as a graphic designer. He also patented a system of moveable type and co-founded the successful but short-lived Transposter Advertising Ltd firm.
Whilst in the British camps, Dachinger completed a bountiful portfolio of work, which included landscapes, scenes of the everyday life within the confines of the eight-metre high barbed wire, posters and coloured portraits. The example of Dachinger’s work owned by the Ben Uri gallery was painted during the third month of his internment. Titled Portrait of a Man, it is thought that the elderly sitter was one of the intellectuals, either a writer or an artist named Wilhelm Holitscher, who Dachinger socialised within the camp.
Limited to resources that he could find in the camp, Dachinger used newspaper sheets as his canvas, preferring The Times over others on account of the better quality paper. Unable to purchase paints, Dachinger and other artists had to use whatever equipment they had brought with them or invent their own pigments by melting and combining various ingredients. For example, he made ersatz paint by grounding brick dust or food with the olive oil from sardine tins. On other occasions, Dachinger mixed toothpaste and watercolours, which can be seen in the hair of Portrait of a Man. To produce black charcoal, wood, such as twigs from trees, were burnt to ashes.
Mother and Child, sculpture by Willi Soukop, polyphant stone
Standing Boy by Georg Ehrlich, Bronze
Babies, Georg Ehrlich, Sanguine
One of the themes that was explored in the exhibition Out of Austria was the prevailing mother and child trope that has appeared in artworks throughout history. It is usually associated with Catholicism and the representation of the Virgin Mary with the Christ child, an unusual choice for Jewish artists to depict, however, perhaps these artists who had fled their homeland were drawn to this subject on account of their separation from their families. Amongst the artworks exhibited in this section were sketches, photographs, ceramics and sculptures.
One of the sculptures, lent from a private collection, was fashioned from bronze by the Austrian-born Georg Ehrlich (1887-1966). A year before the Anschluss, Ehrlich and his wife fled from the Austrian capital to the British capital where he remained for the rest of his life, excluding a brief internment in one of the camps. Although he had trained as a graphic designer at the Kunstgewerbeschule in Vienna, Ehrlich had established himself as a sculptor by 1923.
Ehrlich mainly restricted his sculptures to animals and children, however, also produced several war memorials including one for the Garden of Rest at Coventry. It is likely that Ehrlich’s sculptures provided the money he and his wife needed in order to live comfortably in their adopted country. Standing Boy, displayed as part of the exhibition, sold for £200 in 1941, the most expensive of any of the works bought at that time.
Another sculptor who found safety on the British Isles was Wilhelm “Willi” Soukop (1907-95), the son of a Moravian shoemaker, who fled from Vienna as early as 1934. Although he was deported and interred in Canada in 1940, he returned to London nine months later establishing himself as a teacher at various art schools. His post-war sculpture Mother and Child (1947), lent to the gallery for this exhibition, was purchased by the University of Chichester in 1952 where it usually sits above the altar in the University Chapel.
Illustrated by Bettina
Illustrated by Bettina
Written and illustrated by Bettina
Continuing with the theme of mother and child, Bettina (1903-85), the wife of the aforementioned Georg Ehrlich, launched a new career as a children’s author and illustrator as a result of fleeing to London in 1938. By 1940, Bettina had penned and illustrated her first book Poo-Tsee, the Water Tortoise, which was followed by a further 20 books during her lifetime. As well as writing her own stories, Bettina worked as an illustrator for other authors including the American writer Virginia Haviland (1911-88).
A copy of Haviland’s Favorite Fairy Tales Told in England had been lent to the Ben Uri Gallery specifically for the Out of Austriaexhibition, which was displayed in a glass case, opened to a page containing two elegant pen and ink illustrations. Included nearby was an initial study for an illustration that was never got used for the story Molly Whuppie in which the small girl, Molly, steals a giant’s purse from under his pillow whilst he sleeps.
Although these books and illustrations were produced after the end of World War Two and have no direct connection to the events of the Anschluss, they go to show the success Bettina achieved as a result of fleeing her home country. Had she remained in Austria, chances are she would have ended up in a Nazi concentration camp and possibly never seen again. By abandoning everything she was familiar with, she and her husband not only survived but created a positive future.
Tower Bridge, Oskar Kokoschka, 1967
Portrait of Rabbi Joseph Trostmann, Ottilie Tolansky, 1962-3
The Old Underground Station, Eric Doitch (né Siegfried Steiner), 1965
The exhibition Out of Austria ended with a selection of post-war artworks produced by Austrian-Jewish refugees. Some of these had returned to Austria or other countries in Europe, whereas, others decided to make Britain their permanent home. Regardless of where they ended up, they continued painting, sculpting and so forth, adopting new methods that evolved as a result of the war. Abstract art emerged as artists began to come to terms with the horrors of war, needing a suitable method of expressing their emotions. Political anxieties were also at the forefront of people’s minds but experiences of Nazi Germany made many wary of speaking or visualising their opinions in clear, obvious manners.
The Ben Uri Gallery selected works that were not predominantly war focused, instead emphasising the determination of the Austrian immigrants to persevere with their artistic careers. From fleeing their homes, facing several months in British camps, scavenging for resources, the determination of these artists to carry on when they could so easily have given up is an inspiration to all craftsmen today.
Despite the exhibition being in honour of the memory of the annexation of Austria, it was interesting to view a range of themes and styles rather than visual representations of war. Out of Austria was a personal insight into individual artists – unique human beings – instead of a formal, grave account of the Anschluss, although accurate facts and figures were also given.
It was refreshing to note a large number of female artists amongst the 20 or so featured in the exhibition. Women have generally been written out of the history of art and are only just beginning to receive the recognition they deserve. Anschluss affected both men and women, everyone was equal in this respect.
Out of Austria finished on 29th April, however, the Ben Uri Gallery hosts a number of exhibitions throughout the year that celebrates the lives of various individuals and groups of refugees. Regardless of who the future exhibitions focus on, visitors can expect a well thought out display that truly expresses the personalities and lives of the artists despite events they have been through.
The next exhibition to take place at the Ben Uri Gallery will be Adi Nes: Bible Stories beginning on 22nd May until 10th June 2018.
Amedeo Clemente Modigliani (1884-1920) was an Italian painter, sculptor and draughtsman who spent the majority of his working career in Paris. Almost a century after his death, the Tate Modern in London is holding the biggest display of Modigliani’s work in the UK to date, looking back at the artist’s productive, albeit brief, life. With over 100 artworks produced in Modigliani’s distinctive style, this exhibition contains some of the professed most memorable artworks of the 20th century.
“The life of Modigliani, wandering artist, so often resembles a legend, it is difficult to determine fact from fiction.”
-Arthur Pfannstiel, 1929
Photo: Modigliani
Modigliani died at the age of 35 after a fourteen-year career as an artist. Due to his early demise and his rumoured lifestyle, there has been a lot of incorrect speculation about his character. He was deemed as socially unconventional and earned a reputation as the archetypal romantic painter, starving in a cramped living space, whilst falling victim to alcohol and drugs. Within this exhibition, the Tate Modern attempts to biographically outline his life alongside his intense and controversial artwork.
Born into a Sephardic Jewish family in Livorno, Italy, Modigliani was a rather sickly child, suffering from a handful of illnesses, including Tuberculosis. His mother, at risk of spoiling her son, encouraged his passion for art, which led to him receiving a years education at Micheli’s Art School in 1898, run by the local artist Guglielmo Micheli (1866-1926). This was Modigliani’s first form of artistic instruction, which, naturally given the school’s location, focused on the study of techniques and themes of Italian Renaissance art. Although Modigliani would quickly develop his own style, evidence of his former training can be seen in his paintings, for example, the linear grace of his work resembles that of Botticelli (1445-1510), whereas, his focus on reclining nudes may have stemmed from Titian (1488-1576), who was one of the first artists to produce paintings of this nature.
Modigliani’s personal style began developing almost simultaneously with his move to Paris in 1906. Penniless, Modigliani settled in a commune in Montmartre, where he absorbed ideas from other artists in the area. He was particularly influenced by works he saw by the late Cézanne, adopting the simplicity of loose brushstrokes and method of colour handling. Modigliani is a significant example of the way exposure to new people and places affect artists.
Evidence of Modigliani’s impoverished lifestyle can be seen at the beginning of the exhibition. On more than one occasion, he used both sides of the canvas for different paintings, implying that he did not have enough money to afford new canvases. An example is The Cellist (1909), which contains Portrait of Constantin Brancusi (1909) on its reverse. In other works, ghostly faces can be seen through the bright paint as a result of Modigliani reusing old canvases.
Front
Back
Between 1911 and 1913, Modigliani put painting aside in favour of sculpture. At least two dozen were produced within this time period, several of whichthe Tate Modern has on display. At this time in France, European artists were drawn to museums containing a wide range of historic art and antiquities, particularly from ancient civilisations in Africa. The Egyptian style was a particular favourite of Modigliani, which he replicated in his own carved heads by mimicking the clean lines and elongated facial features.
Woman’s Head (with Chignon, 1911-12
Woman’s Head, 1912
It is thought that Modigliani stole blocks of limestone from building sites to use for his sculptures. It was a far more expensive pursuit than painting, which may be one reason why he abandoned the project. Another reason may have been the outbreak of World War One, which would have restricted his access to materials, but, the most likely explanation for returning to painting was the effect the dust from the carved limestone was having on his weakened lungs. However, these few years spent sculpting brought a new dimension to his artwork.
The distinctive style of portraiture that Modigliani has become recognised for encompasses many of the elements that featured in his sculptures. Rather than painting the sitter as he saw him or her, Modigliani altered their appearances with swan-like necks and almond-shaped eyes. He often left the eyes blank with no discernible iris or pupil. Although not intentional, this makes the portraits look unnerving, like creatures out of a Doctor Who episode.
Madam Pompadour, 1915
In 1916, Modigliani became friends with the art dealer Léopold Zborowski (1889-1932) and his wife Anna (1885-1978) – both of their portraits are part of this exhibition. Zborowski encouraged Modigliani to go down a new route: painting the female nude. Painting the naked body was nothing new in the art world, however, the way in which Modigliani approached it caused some controversy amongst art patrons.
The models who posed for these paintings dominated the canvas, often making direct eye-contact with the viewer. This indicates the changes occurring in the lives of women at the beginning of the 20th century. Women were more independent and had more say about their bodies. To further emphasise the point, Modigliani went against tradition and included pubic hair in his compositions, showing the true female form and not the idealised male preference. Unfortunately, these paintings were censored by a police commissioner on the grounds of indecency. Twelve of these nudes have been located and loaned to the Tate Modern.
As the exhibition nears its end, visitors see some of the works produced within Modigliani’s final years. As well as this, the exhibition narrative takes a more personal tone, revealing the more private life of the painter. Modigliani travelled to Nice in 1918 to avoid the end of the war and to alleviate his worsening health problems. With him came his pregnant partner, Jeanne Hébuterne (1898-1920) who bore him a daughter of the same name (1918-84). Jeanne became the principal subject of his artwork, however, whilst in the French Riviera, he painted local children and friends, opting for warm Mediterranean colours. Arguably, these are some of his strongest works.
The Little Peasant, 1918
Jeanne Hébuterne, 1919
The quality of Modigliani’s paintings, however, are a stark contrast to the direction his life was taking. He never made much money from painting, and anything he did earn fueled his growing addiction to drugs and alcohol. Although he continued to paint, his health was deteriorating rapidly and frequently suffered alcohol-induced blackouts. None of this is evident in Modigliani’s final self-portrait. Instead, he looks like a professional, confident painter, well-dressed with paint palette in hand. His dapper appearance initially made him seem reserved and asocial at the beginning of his career, however, his reputation changed rapidly, resulting in the rakish vagabond he ended his life as.
Destroyed by his own self-indulgence, Amedeo Modigliani died on 24th January 1920 in the Hôpital de la Charité where he spent his final days suffering from tubercular meningitis. His fiancee, who was expecting his second child, took her own life the day after his funeral, jumping out of a fifth-story window.
Art historians suggest that if Modigliani had not neglected his health, he could have lived to produce great masterpieces. Modigliani kept his illness secret claiming the symptoms were a result of his drunkenness. At that time in Paris, drunkards were tolerated but disease carriers were not.
Self Portrait, 1919
Jeanne Hébuterne, 1919
When Modigliani died, he was well-known amidst the artist communities of Montmartre and Montparnasse, however, he was still unheard of throughout the rest of the world. His posthumous fame began two years later after his work featured in an exhibition at the Galerie Bernheim-Jeune in Paris. This was shortly followed by the publication of a biography by André Salmon (1881-1969) titled Modigliani, sa vie et son œuvre, which introduced Modigliani to people further afield.
Modigliani has been labelled an original artist of his time who modernised figurative painting, however, it is difficult to say how good a painter he was. In comparison to the traditional form of painting, Modigliani’s work is rather poor. On the other hand, modern artists and critics were beginning to develop a taste for unconventional ideas.
Some may say Modigliani’s loose brush strokes are expressive, whereas other people may declare they look rushed. One of his sitters noted that “the portrait was finished after a few hours without him stopping for even a minute.” Others recall that he was always drawing, sometimes ten sketches in one evening. It was almost as if he was addicted to painting in the same way he was addicted to alcohol.
The Tate Modern removes the focus from each individual painting, preferring to reflect on the styles and techniques used during various periods of Modigliani’s life. Regardless of visitors’ artistic preferences, there is something interesting in learning about the artist, his influences, and what led him to paint in this manner.
To delve deeper into the artist’s past, the Tate Modern offers a virtual reality experience, for those willing to queue for half an hour, which takes individuals on a tour of Modigliani’s final studio in Paris. Another option is an audio guide which provides detailed information about specific artworks around the exhibition. The latter, however, is not included in the price of the entry fee.
At £17.70, the exhibition is rather pricey and therefore may not be worth visiting if Modigliani’s artwork is not a favourite style. For members, however, entry is free therefore nothing is lost by viewing the exhibition, and, who knows, it may be more interesting than expected. It is certainly intriguing to find out about an artist’s background, and Modigliani’s life is a heartbreaking story.
Modigliani will remain open until 2nd April 2018. Tickets can be purchased online or on arrival at the gallery. Under twelves go free with a paying adult.
“One hopes for something resembling truth, some sense of life, even of grace, to flicker, at least, in the work.” Jasper Johns, 2006.
Jasper Johns (b.1930) is an American painter, sculptor and printmaker recognised for his iconic representations of the US flag. The Royal Academy of Arts in London has produced a thorough exhibition that provides insight into the artist’s life as well as his distinctive art style. Jasper Johns: ‘Something Resembling Truth’ contains over 150 paintings and sculptures that Johns has completed throughout the past 60 years. Beginning with his earliest existing work (he destroyed everything prior to 1954), the exhibition explores the techniques and purposes behind his artwork and documents the gradual changes Johns employed as he developed as an artist.
At the beginning of Jasper Johns’ career, the art world was in the midst of the Abstract Expressionism movement where artists were vibrantly communicating their inner selves to the public through symbolic paintings. Johns, on the other hand, avoided all forms of existing art factions by painting things exactly as they are seen, destroying the idea that art must have a hidden meaning. By producing images of universally familiar objects, Johns wanted to represent things that are often seen but never really looked at in great detail. His idiosyncratic ideas have helped to raise him to the status of one of the most influential artists of the 20th century.
To say Johns was interested in painting the American flag is an understatement. Already this year, one of Johns’ flags has featured in an exhibition at the British Museum and the Royal Academy have collated a handful of different ones. In total, Johns painted the flag 27 times, used it within ten sculptures, drew it 50 times and produced 18 prints. He claims that “One night I dreamed that I painted a large American flag, and the next morning I got up and I went out and bought the materials to begin it.” This suggests that his interest in the flag was originally nothing more than an urge to paint it, however, it later garnered a much stronger purpose and role within his artwork.
Beginning with the flag, Johns began a series of paintings that question things the mind is already aware of. He appropriated objects that the majority of people, at least in America, would have been familiar with since childhood. However, despite the lack of a symbolic meaning, Johns attempted to make the known unfamiliar to its audience. Flag (1958) is a realistic painting of the American flag (the one they had at the time before Alaska and Hawaii joined in 1959) with the stripes and stars exactly proportionate to the real thing. What Johns was interested in was whether other people saw it as a painting or as a flag – perhaps both. What is the expectation of a painting? Being presented on a stretched canvas, Flag cannot be raised on a flagpole and therefore cannot function as a true flag, therefore, one can argue that it is only a painting. On the other hand, if someone were to ask what the American flag looked like, showing them a Jasper Johns version would be just as good as showing them a photograph of the real thing – does that make the painting a flag?
To think too much about the function of Flag causes a lot of confusion and can never truly be resolved – there is no right or wrong answer. One thing that cannot be debated is its material; it truly is a painting. The brushstrokes produced by the artist’s hand are still evident when standing in front of the canvas. Johns uses a technique called encaustic, which he found much more beneficial than more traditional approaches. Encaustic painting involves mixing colour pigments with molten wax, which, although rather laborious to make, is quick drying and resists the effects of ageing and other damaging elements. It is easy to layer paintings using this medium and this can be seen in the majority of Johns’ paintings around the gallery. Today, Johns is one of the only remaining artists to employ this method.
0 Through 9, 1961
Numbers in aluminium relief
As well as tangible objects, Jasper Johns painted other everyday motifs prompting similar questions about perception. Again, there were no hidden meanings behind these artworks and they could often function in the same way as their original counterpart. The RA displays painted maps and targets by the artist that, although evidently painted, can also function as a map or a target. Another interest of Johns are numbers, familiar figures that are seen all the time but rarely thought of as more than a piece of information.
Johns strips these numbers of their function in his charcoal drawing 0 Through 9 (1961) in which he has positioned each number on top of the other until left with a mess of lines and shape. It is still possible, by studying the artwork, to detect each individual number, but they have effectively been rendered purposeless. They neither inform or function as a number is traditionally meant to do. But, has that stopped them from being numbers?
Painting with Two Balls, 1960
Fool’s House, 1962.
Painted Bronze, 1960.
As Johns continued to consider what a painting was rather than what it represented he began to move away from the traditional usage of the canvas. Often using collage as well as paint, the various layers in his works are obvious to the viewer and reveal how the piece was made. To draw attention to the canvas, Johns cuts, crops or extends it to make its presence more obvious. This is a technique he has employed in creating Painting with Two Balls (1960). By splitting the canvas and wedging in two wooden balls, Johns reveals the wall behind the painting. This emphasises that the viewer is seeing a painting on canvas, attached to a wall; there is nothing more meaningful about it.
Johns’ visual perception of everyday objects extends to his experimentation with sculpture, however, this is where the idea of the function becomes obscured. There’s no doubt that Johns was skilled at what he did, particularly in the case of Painted Bronze (1960) – one of the highlights of the exhibition. In a glass case, almost concealed amongst all the other art in the room, is what appears to be a selection of wooden paintbrushes in an old coffee tin – something that would be typically found in Johns’ studio. However, it is actually a hyper-realistic representation of brushes and a tin sculpted and cast in bronze, and then painted in oils. It is only by looking closely at the tin that the oil paint becomes noticeable. The words “Savarin Coffee”, for example, have demonstrably been painted by hand.
Unlike his flags and maps which could function as both a painting and an object, Painted Bronze has no physical purpose. Despite it looking like a tin full of paintbrushes, it would be impossible to pick one up and use it. This may be why Johns opted for the title Painted Bronze as opposed to Savarin Coffee Can or Tin of Paint Brushes.
Not only did Johns’ coffee can move away from the form and function theme, it was one of the first artworks that revealed something about the artist himself. Whereas his previous works had focused on everyday objects familiar to all, these brushes were more personal to Johns and were something he needed in his life to be able to live an artistic lifestyle. This sculpture marks a turning point in Johns’ career.
False Start
Colour Illusion Test
Until 1961, Jasper Johns had been in an intimate relationship with the artist Robert Rauschenberg (1925-2008), another pioneering artist of the time. The end of the seven-year romance resulted in a strong sense of emotional loss, which began to become evident in Johns’ work. Struggling with his personal feelings, he turned to language and words and began to incorporate these into his paintings. As a result, he became particularly interested in the philosophies of Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889-1951) who put forth the opinion that conceptional confusions surrounding language are at the root of most philosophical problems. Writing about semantics, Wittgenstein suggests that the meanings of words are in how they are used rather than what they are supposed to describe.
A couple of paintings in the exhibition may remind visitors of a particular brain game in which the task is to say the colour a word is written in and not the world itself. For example, if the word “black” is written in the colour red, one must, therefore, say “red”. In Jasper Johns’ False Start (1959) paint has been wildly splattered over the canvas in the primary colours: red, yellow and blue. Layered over the interlocking patches are the words “red”, “yellow” or “blue”, however, never on their respective colours. This explores Wittgenstein’s philosophy of language and the meanings of words. What we see and what we read are two opposing details. Many people have been intrigued by this painting, and in 2006, it became the most expensive painting by a living artist, selling at $80 million.
Racing Thoughts, 1983
Spring, 1986
During the 1980s, Jasper Johns became more personal with his works and his paintings began to include symbolism and meaning. However, this did not revert to the thought processes of Abstract Expressionism; it was still a unique endeavour on Johns’ part.
“In my early work I tried to hide my personality, my psychological state, my emotions. This was partly to do with my feelings about myself and partly to do with my feelings about painting at the time. I sort of stuck to my guns for a while, but eventually it seemed like a losing battle. Finally, one must simply drop the reserve.” Jasper Johns, 1984
The paintings Johns produced in this era are more meaningful for himself than anyone else viewing the painting. Johns was having trouble sleeping because he had too much on his mind. In order to sort through these thoughts, he painted six canvases titled Racing Thoughts in which he places his mental pictures onto a representation of a bathroom wall – implying he is thinking whilst taking a bath – to create a form of mood board.
The personal iconography in these paintings reflects on Johns’ past, his memories and his artistic influences. Occasionally they are metaphorical items, for instance, a skull which may represent death, but many are direct references to specific parts of his life. In one painting, located at the very beginning of the exhibition, Johns has combined a reproduction of the Mona Lisa and photograph of an art dealer, Leo Castelli, with other artistic allusions. This suggests that Johns admired the artist Leonardo Da Vinci, and the inclusion of Castelli is obvious since he was the man who gave Johns his first art show.
Despite the change in Jasper Johns’ artwork, he has not rejected the idea of perception and illusion. Within the six Racing Thoughts, he has experimented with trompe-l’œil with the inclusion of a commemorative vase for Queen Elizabeth II’s Silver Jubilee. At first, all that may be seen is a white vase, but on further inspection, the negative space reveals the profiles of two faces: the Queen and Prince Philip.
These instances of optical illusion feature in later works, including Spring (1986) (pictured above) which was part of a series of four depicting the seasons. These are also the nearest Johns has got to a self-portrait, using a tracing of his shadow to make his presence known. Each painting contains objects, colours and trompe-l’œil that Johns associates with the four different times of the year.
As suggested by the title of the exhibition, Something Resembling Truth, the relationship between reality and illusion is Jasper Johns primary concern that he tackles in his paintings. Although he did not intend to conjure any subliminal meanings, many have wandered the gallery attempting to interpret what they saw before them. Each spectator may have produced their own subjective opinion based on their own knowledge and experience. However, no opinion is wrong when it comes to art. Johns may have been trying to paint something in reality with no emotions attached, but if it evokes something else in its audience, that is no less of a reality.
The exhibition at the Royal Academy has come to a close, but it has been well received by many visitors and friends of the academy. True to their typical style, the curators provided written information around the gallery to explain some of the artworks and also provide an insight into Johns’ life and thought process. With an audio guide that was included in the price of the ticket, the RA excelled themselves, producing something that was as informative as it was entertaining. This is something that remains consistent throughout the exhibitions hosted by the RA. Some people may not be moved by the artwork, however, the background information and knowledge make it worth a visit.
Many exhibitions take place throughout the year at the Royal Academy, so keep checking the website to see if there is anything that takes your interest.
Exhibition organised by the Royal Academy of Arts, London in collaboration with The Broad, Los Angeles.
To engage visitors, the museum has provided examples of the tools used to sculpt marble and the process the stone goes through, from rough edges to a smooth finish. Everyone is invited to touch and feel examples of marble during different stages of the sculpting process.
The Ben Uri Gallery, established in 1915 by the Russian émigré artist Lazar Berson, is dedicated to celebrating the work and lives of migrant minorities. Originally an art venue for Jewish immigrant craftsmen, the gallery’s mission is to be known as “The Art Museum for Everyone” with no ethnic, religious or other barriers.
Hazel Stainer 
