hauser+wirth, somerset…

Thanks to our lovely friends, Dave+Sarah, we visited the wonderful Hauser+Wirth Gallery and Gardens at Bruton, Somerset on Sunday.
It first opened in 2014. The former derelict farmhouse and outbuildings have been refurbished and converted into a variety of gallery spaces, restaurants and retail space. The whole art centre complex has become a venue for art exhibitions, events and learning activities, connecting with the local community and landscape.
Internationally-renowned garden designer Piet Oudolf created the landscaping scheme for the entire site, including Oudolf Field - a large perennial meadow situated behind the gallery buildings.
At present, the gallery spaces have largely been given over to the work of artists Niki de Saint Phalle and Jean Tinguely (exhibition runs until 1 Feb 2026).
Although I did take a few (not many!) photographs of the exhibits, I found myself concentrating much more on the gallery and ancillary spaces… but I now regret not having taken photographs of the spaces themselves.
Check out their excellent website for a much better ‘feel’ of the complex.
Photo: a few images.

USK Bristol: 10th anniversary!

Bristol Urban Sketchers are celebrating their 10^th Anniversary today on board MV Balmoral… (I’ve been a member for the past 7 years). It’s a brilliant, free, worldwide ‘organisation’ that encourages people to sketch en plein air (ie. outdoors). We meet at least once a month throughout the year – along with our sister group in Bath (which effectively means that many of us are meeting up twice a month).
It’s open to artists of all abilities (and age!) and, for me, it’s become one of the real highlights of my retired life! I’ve got to know some REALLY lovely people and made some brilliant friends along the way. It’s a wonderful, welcoming and encouraging community. Here in Bristol, we frequently have 30-40 people turning up at each session to sketch for up to two hours. Obviously, beer+wine are also involved(!) - once our sketches are completed, we meet up to share what we’ve done (and being nosey about the pens and paper we’ve each used)!
We even continued to meet during Covid lockdown – via Google StreetView and Zoom (I know!) and ended up ‘travelling’ to more than 20 locations around the world in the process.
After my family, it’s definitely one of the highlights of my life (huge thanks to Ian Adams for highlighting ‘Urban Sketching’ all those years ago). Who knew?!
Link: https://www.facebook.com/groups/906335416054980
Photo: One of our 10^th anniversary exhibition boards (we always try to get a ‘team photograph’ at the end of all our sketching sessions). 

barbara walker MBE RA at the arnolfini…

I went along to the Barbara Walker ‘Being Here’ exhibition at the Arnolfini today (I’d been meaning to go for some time!). She and I share the fact that we were both born in Birmingham and grew up in Handsworth (albeit she’s 15 years younger than me!).
The exhibition presents almost 60 extraordinary artworks, including rarely seen early paintings of Walker’s family, friends and community in her home city, along with her Turner Prize nominated monumental drawing series ‘Burden of Proof’, which illustrates the impact on the lives of those affected by the Windrush scandal.
Stunningly beautiful, powerful drawings and paintings.
The exhibition runs until 25 May. See it if you can. 

1,000 paper cranes…

In December 2022, as part of our Golden Wedding Anniversary celebrations, our daughter Ru resolved that she was going to use the coming year to make 1,000 (yes, ONE THOUSAND!) paper cranes on our behalf. According to Japanese tradition/legend(?), such an act can bring a lifetime of happiness or good luck.
People who don’t know Ru might be forgiven for thinking that this was just one of those things people resolve to do… but either just give up or never quite get round to doing. Well, yesterday, Ru delivered her promise (literally)…
We now have 1,000 paper cranes adorning our apartment.
They make a simply stunning, magical sight.
I’ve found the whole experience quite emotional… the time that has gone into this venture; the generosity and love involved; the dedication and determination… and the beauty and size of the final piece.
Quite, quite overwhelming… and very, very lovely.
We are very lucky people. x 
Photo: It’s pretty tricky to photograph 1,000 paper cranes (and impossible to do them justice)… but the attached image provide an impression…

hockney...

Our family has had something of a passion for Hockney’s art for several years now (eg. #hoctober: Hannah has been posting Hockney-inspired images each October on her social media pages).
So, you won’t be surprised that Moira and I spent Monday evening watching the David Hockney documentary on Sky Arts. It proved to be a rather lovely 90 minutes of television. It was the first in a four-part series - conversations between Hockney and Bragg, filmed over 12 months in both London and at the artist’s Normandy studio, plus archival footage and commentary from distinguished ‘Hockney fans’ allowing a chance to review his work over the past SEVEN decades (he’s now 86 and I think he sold his first painting – of his father – for £10 in 1955)(I wonder where it is now?)*.
Remarkably, he’s had more than 400 exhibitions over the course his lifetime (including 3 solo shows in 2023!) and, of course, he hasn’t finished yet because he shows no sign of slowing down. It was a reminder of the incredibly range of his work – which includes designing stage sets for opera, photography, stained glass, drawings and paintings… using a whole range of different technologies and traditional techniques.
Leaves me a little fazed by just how boring predictable I’ve become in MY old age!
Well worth watching if you can.

* a subsequent documentary revealed that Hockney bought the painting back several years later.

169th annual open exhibition

I always enjoy going to the RWA’s Annual Open Exhibition… but I always do so with a certain reservations and, yes, with something of a chip on my shoulder! I’ve previously submitted work on a couple of occasions and have been duly rejected each time (the same has happened to some of my brilliant artist friends!) – although I was accepted for the ‘Drawn’ exhibition in 2013. The result is that I go around the exhibition feeling ‘highly critical’ of some of the work that ended up actually being accepted!!
This year’s exhibition (8 October-8 January) is no exception (although I didn’t submit anything!) and I’ve already made two visits.
One of the things that particularly struck me with this year’s exhibition was its overall rather monochrome character. Yes, there were several colourful offerings, but also entire walls of black+white submissions.
Yes, I fully agree that art appreciation is a very subjective business and, don’t get me wrong, there are LOTS of EXCELLENT art on display this year… but there are also LOTS of work that I found myself really puzzling as to how they had been given the ‘thumbs up’! And the slightly scary thing (and, for me, this seems to happen EVERY year!) is that there are always half a dozen or so works submitted by the RWA’s own Academicians (“Practising artists or architects of exceptional ability and experience with a proven track record of exhibitions… creators of art works judged to be of a consistently high standard”) that in my view fall well short of what constitutes a ‘high standard’ of art.
What, ME out of step with the rest of the world? Surely not!!
PS: There’s part of me that thinks the RWA simply uses the exhibition as a great way of raising funds. Artists have to pay a fee for each submission (and it’s not cheap!); applications are strongly encouraged and LOTS are rejected!
Photo: Just a few of the pieces that caught my eye.

moonage daydream…

Having attended a Ricky Ross concert at St George’s on Tuesday night, it seems a little strange to have ventured to the Watershed the following day to watch a documentary on David Bowie (directed by Brett Morgen)… although music is important for me, it doesn’t usually feature quite so regularly as this!
It’s a rather brilliant documentary film - told through kaleidoscopic, never-seen-before footage, performances and music - exploring the creative, musical, and spiritual journey of one of the most iconic rock stars of all time. Bowie has always been something of an icon – both in terms of his music, his appearance and the wealth of his innovative work (including art, sculpture, dance, acting, writing, thinking and design), but through the film I found myself mesmerised by the utter wealth of his creativity, his ideas and his constant need to ‘move on’ to the next project/persona/challenge. I was familiar with most of it and yet, seeing it put together in a 140 minute documentary felt quite mindblowing.
I was always a lover of Bowie’s music and bought at least three of his CDs (including Blackstar, the last album before his death in 2016). The film reminded me just how much I like his music and I’ve now resolved to find the playlist I created (and played endlessly) when he died.
As Mark Kermode (in his 5-star review) put it: it’s a “truly psychedelic fever dream of a film that captures Bowie as performer, artist and thinker”.
I think you need to see it.

eric ravilious: drawn to war…

Moira and I went along to the Watershed this afternoon to see Margy Kinmonth’s excellent documentary film on landscape artist Eric Ravilious (who died in a plane crash in 1942, aged 39, during his time working as a war artist for the MOD).
Although I’ve been aware of Ravilious’s work for a number of years, it’s only really in the past 6-7 years (largely thanks to the enthusiasm for his work by my great friend David McLaughlin) – during which time I’ve accumulated a number of books relating to his life and his art.
As the film emphasises, Ravilious is a grossly undervalued artist (literally – during his time working for the MOD in WW2, they were keen to buy ten of his original submarine pieces for £2 10s each… that’s £25 for all TEN!!)(I wonder what they’d be worth today?). But, as well as being undervalued, he’s also been largely forgotten - indeed, a trove of Ravilious’s work was discovered hidden under a bed for 40 years (the bed was that of graphic artist Edward Bawden, who was best man at Ravilious’s wedding)!
Working in watercolour, pen and ink and woodcut engraving, Eric Ravilious’s work combined rolling English landscapes (particularly the South Downs) with a “sensibility that was bold in its modernity and economy” (Wendy Ide, The Guardian, 3 July 2022). He engraved more than 400 illustrations and drew over 40 lithographic designs for books and publications during his lifetime.
I thought it was a very beautiful, poignant documentary and it’s made me want to read more about his work (and see more of it too).
PS: After 2 years of trying, in 2019 I eventually managed to persuade Bristol Museum and Art Gallery to let me see Ravilious’s “Tennis Triptych” (1930) – which the gallery keeps shut away in its extensive archives. I think it’s time they put it on permanent exhibition. 

royal west of england academy (RWA)…

The Grade II* Listed RWA building has opened its doors again after a £4.1 million extensive repair and refurbishment project – thanks to funding from the National Lottery Heritage Fund.
Since we first moved to Bristol in 2003, we’ve regularly visited the art gallery and, as you might imagine (with it being only a 15-minute walk up Park Street from our ‘new’ abode), it’s been somewhat frustrating that its temporary closure more or less coincided with our move from Southville.
The art gallery re-opened at the weekend and I dropped in yesterday to take in its first main exhibition (“Me, Myself, I: Artists’ Self-Portraits” - an exploration of self-portraiture over the last three hundred years), featuring such artists as Antony Gormley, Gillian Wearing, Grayson Perry, Tracey Emin, Joshua Reynolds, Stanley Spencer, Lucian Freud, Patrick Heron, Dod Procter, John Minton, Roger Fry and many more.
I very much enjoyed it and, thanks to my RWA Art Pass (purchased for an annual fee of £15 – brilliant value), I can visit as many times as I like for ‘free’.
Photo: Just a few of the images that caught my eye (clockwise, starting top left: John Minton; Antony Gormley, Stanley Spencer, Michael Craig-Martin, Dod Procter, Roger Fry, Arthur Hayward and Jacqueline Donachie.
PS: Work on the café isn’t quite yet completed, but the very good news is that it’ll be run by Bristol’s excellent “Spicer+Cole” (probably the best coffee in Bristol, in my view).

goodbye arts trail at number40…

One of the saddest aspects of moving house is the realisation that we’ve held our last SouthBank Arts Trail at number40. We’ve opened up our studio on every arts trail weekend from 2004-2018 (we ‘missed’ the very first one in May 2003, which took place the day we put in an offer for the house!).
Over the years, Moira and I have welcomed the following 40 exhibiting artists (which somehow feels absolutely appropriate for number40!): Paul Brown, Wendy Calder, Jen Orme, Helen Brayshaw, Sharon Bishop, Dave Morgan-Davies, Chitra Merchant, Philippa Royle, Angela Saxbee, Hannah Hickman, Sarah Duncan, Anna Francis, Kay Morgan, Alexandra Higlett, Georgina Hounsome, Lucy Roberts, Tamsie Beith, Ruth Ander, Fay-Darling Peters, Maggie Smith, Martin Lintern, Damian Daly, Lucie Sheridan, Becky Burling, Melanie Wickham, Tessa McDermott, Shirley Smith, Deb Steele, Sally Medlicott, Ian Adams, Heather Newport, Chris Heaton, Nik Kalinowski, Jeremy Smith, Iain Ferns, the Plate-Painting-Lady (who joined us at the eleventh hour for one of our exhibitions, but we can’t remember her name!) plus, of course, the lovely Ruth Broadway, Hannah Broadway, Stuart Low and Felix Hayes.
It proved to be a very popular arts trail venue – so much so that we ended up welcoming over 700 people into our basement over an Arts Trail weekend!
Huge thanks to all those who contributed or visited over the years.
Lots of special memories.
Lots of very good times with lots of very good friends. x
Photos: These are just a very FEW of the photographs taken over the years… fascinating to see the broad scope of work included and also being reminded that our grandchildren have effectively ‘grown up’ over the course of our arts trail involvement!

trip up’t north…

Moira and I have just spent a rather lovely week in Yorkshire. We stayed in the heart of Skipton’s town centre - a stone’s throw away from both the High Street (named England’s Great Street of the Year 2009!)(Moira still doesn’t believe me!) and the Leeds+Liverpool Canal… and only a low bow shot from Skipton Castle.

Although we’re not particular boat-lovers, we do both love canals. We love walking their towpaths (Moira likes them because they’re ‘flat’!); we love their urban and rural settings; and we love the gentle pace and rhythm of life that they offer. Our towpath walks included an amble to Bradley (and a drink in the Slater’s Arms), where we watched some of the impressive Fell Races (3.5 miles/900ft rise)… and a walk along the canal near Bingley (via Bingley station) to the impressive 3- and 5-lock rises.

We were also very impressed by Skipton Castle (original built in 1090, with subsequent fortification improvements after 1310. During the English Civil War the castle was the only Royalist stronghold in the north of England until December 1645) – now beautifully preserved and surrounded by the greenest grass you’ve ever seen!). The one minor niggle for us was the group of four loud-mouthed (literally) American tourists who spent their time talking VERY loudly to each other as they came across new treasures (why do so many Americans have to be SO noisy!?)(sorry, my lovely American friends... I know I'm generalising!). We were also very taken by the wonderful Skipton Castle Woods – 36acres of ancient woodland along a river valley (hauntingly beautiful and, in Moira’s words, “beguiling”).
We visited Saltaire a couple of times. We love its history as a Victorian model village (built in 1851) and the inspired vision of Sir Titus Salt who created it. Salts Mill, with its cafés/restaurants, museum, galleries, bookshop et al, was a particular highlight. Beautifully renovated, laid out, decorated and lit – and the perfect space in which to view work by David Hockney in a permanent collection.

I sketched, we walked, we explored, we read, we chatted, we laughed, we ate and we drank the odd glass… and the weather was reasonably kind (which was a bonus). Not being car owners these days, we travelled everywhere by train (when we weren't walking)(excellent rail link between Leeds and Skipton… and beyond) and we loved the differing landscapes we travelled through – with distant fells, wide open green acres, small old villages (their houses were much better than most of the stuff erected these days… IMHO!) and busy industrial towns (some perhaps not quite so busy these days).

Yorkshire (even without setting foot on the Moors) is a very beautiful part of the world and we fell in love with much of what we saw.
Photo: Moira+I drinking at The Slater's Arms, Bradley.
PS: Click on this link for my Skipton+canal pics.
PPS: Click on this link for my Saltaire+Salts Mill pics.

august-september 2019 books…

Bloomsbury (ed Gillian Naylor): Right… prepare yourself for THREE Bloomsbury/Charleston books on the trot! This one, published in 1990 (Moira bought it secondhand in Oxfam in 1999), focuses on the work and ideals of the artists, writers and designers associated with the Bloomsbury Group during the early years of the 20^th century. I’ve ‘read’ and perused the book on lots of occasions, but realised that I’d actually never REALLY read it. So I’ve now done so. I’ve long been fascinated by people who made up the ‘Group’: the likes of Vanessa Bell, Duncan Grant, Roger Fry, Virginia Woolf and Clive Bell. What’s so nice about this book is that it’s made up entirely ‘by the artists, authors and designers themselves’ – extracts from diaries, letters, books and so on (with references to the Omega Workshops, Charleston, Hogarth Press and society in general). Yes, I’m very aware that they came mostly from upper middle-class professional families (which, no doubt, took a little pressure off the need to ‘earn a living’!) but, nevertheless, I was intrigued by their overlapping, interconnected similarity of ideas and attitudes (“the creation and enjoyment of aesthetic experience and the pursuit of knowledge”) which I found incredibly stimulating and which provided much food for thought. A beautiful book that I’ll certainly continue to delve into over the coming years.
Charleston (Quenton Bell+Virginia Nicholson): We bought this book (published in 1997) when we visited Charleston in 1999. Charleston is a rather lovely house set in the heart of the Sussex downs. This is a book that celebrates the “lives, wit and originality” of some of the people who lived there from 1916 onwards – including painters Vanessa Bell and Duncan Grant. In this very beautiful, illustrated book, the authors Quentin Bell (younger son of Clive+Vanessa Bell) and his daughter Virginia Nicholson tell the story of the house and some of the leading cultural figures who were invited there (the book reckons its ‘golden age’s was from 1925 to 1937 – a period I particularly love, when it comes to British art). The house’s rooms are all richly (and unconventionally) decorated by many of those who lived in it over the years and, certainly, the house today (opened to the public) is an enchanting place - a feast of colour and creativity. Clearly, it wasn’t always such a heady experience in the early days – the garden was completely overgrown and the heating was either patchy or non-existent. My favourite passage in the book reads thus: “When the house was being restored (by the Charleston Trust) it was discovered that the studio walls had, in fact, been painted only after the pictures and the large mirror had been hung. Clearly Duncan and Vanessa had never considered doing anything so time-consuming as taking them down and hanging them up again, and when they were finally removed areas of bare plaster were exposed.” Over recent years, I’ve become more and more fascinated by the work (and personalities) of Vanessa Bell and Duncan Grant – particularly Grant (who apparently painted every day and was constantly experimenting – decorating furniture, designing textiles, pottery etc). Whatever your views on British art in the early years of the 20^th century (art fashions change rather quickly!), I think there’s something really quite inspirational about the work associated with Charleston. It’s a very lovely book.
Deceived With Kindness (Angelica Garnett): Right, the very last of my Bloomsbury/Charleston-related books (promise)! First published in 1984 (+new Preface 1995). Angelica Garnett (1918-2012) was the daughter of painter Vanessa Bell; her childhood homes – Charleston, Sussex and Gordon Square, London – were both centres of Bloomsbury activity and she grew up among the most eminent writers and artists of the day. But she battled (and largely failed) to achieve independence from this rather intense and remarkable community and this memoir is essentially a self-analysis of her struggles… and she DID lead a rather complicated life! Her relationship with her mother was never straightforward (Garnett regretted the lack of frankness on both sides and it seems that children rather got in the way of her mother’s art!); her schooling was haphazard and regarding as somewhat unimportant (eg. missing whole terms to spend time in France on vacation); she spent the first 18 years(?) of her life believing that her father was Clive Bell, when in fact it was Duncan Grant (Vanessa’s painting partner); she ended up marrying one of her parents’ contemporaries, David ‘Bunny’ Garnett – 26 years her senior (and, for a brief time, also Duncan Grant’s lover)… as I say, her life was ‘complicated’! It’s a beautifully written, incredibly honest book which reveals another fascinating side to the Group.
Plot 29 (Allan Jenkins): You might recall that I recently read Jenkins’s excellent ‘Morning’ book… about him rising very early and tending his north-west London allotment before breakfast (amongst other things)? Jenkins is the editor of ‘Observer Food Monthly’. In this book, he talks about how its content changed from his initial perceptions: “It was to be about gardening, a year in the life of a piece of land, with personal stuff added in”. The final book tells the story of him as a young boy in the 1950s/60s Plymouth, together with his brother Christopher, being ‘rescued’ from care by an elderly couple (who lived in Averton Gifford, Devon – a village I know well). Although things didn’t really work out in the end, they did learn to grow flowers from seed at their riverside cottage. As Jenkins digs deeper into his difficult past, he finds solace in tending his allotment and its echoes with his childhood memories. A beautifully-written, brave and encouraging book about resilience and, as Monty Don puts it: “A superbly written testament to the power of earth to nourish and heal”. I’m no gardener, but I really loved this book.
The Scent Of The Night (Andrea Camilleri): This is the last book of my Montalbano ‘stock’ – I think I need to check out (and acquire!) the few remaining books in the series that I haven’t yet read. I really enjoy reading the bizarre adventures of the Sicilian police inspector… the plots are always clever - this one, quite complex, involving a financial entrepreneur who, through a kind of pyramid scheme, had successfully (albeit illegally) relieved large numbers of people of their life savings. But, for me, the real pleasure of the books comes from the characters of Mantalbano’s loyal and eccentric tea, the Sicilian setting, his food-loving lifestyle, his eccentricities, the beautiful women and, of course, the humour. Easy reading certainly – but always pleasurable too.

bauhaus centenary…

I watched this excellent programme on iPlayer celebrating the 100^th anniversary of the Bauhaus School. Architect Walter Gropius founded the Bauhaus in Weimar in 1919 and determined that it should revolutionise the way art and design were taught. He gathered together teachers and students and established a framework in which all the disciplines would come together to create the buildings and products of the future, and define a new way of living in the modern world.
I started at the Oxford School of Architecture in 1967 and, thanks to art tutor Tom Porter (a hugely influential figure within the school), I was urged to see the Bauhaus Exhibition at the Royal Academy in 1968 – probably at a time when the Bauhaus and its influence had been more or less forgotten. I remember it as a brilliant, inspiring exhibition – and it was the first time I’d seen a Marcel Breuer chair (amongst other iconic pieces)!

I’d actually made a special study of the Bauhaus School as part of my Art A Level course (but, obviously, in a pretty superficial way!)… and I certainly remember sketches I made of two of Gropius’s new school buildings (when the school moved to Dessau).
Through political pressure, the school moved again, to Berlin, before it was finally closed in 1933 after the Nazis took control of Germany – although its influence continued to spread as teachers and students departed to foreign lands.

Gropius was clearly influenced by figures such as John Ruskin and William Morris, but his emphasis was thoroughly modernistic. Although I regard Gropius as something of a design hero, I’m not sure he was a particularly good architect (I’ve certainly read comments about his inability to draw – something I still regard, even with today’s computer technology, as a fundamental requirement!). But Gropius certainly DID excel in other areas: he was a philosopher; he was ‘good with people’; he was a true networker; he involved himself as a member or a leader in the myriad small groups of revolutionary artists of extraordinary talent, such as: Paul Klee, Oskar Schlemmer, Wassily Kandinsky, Josef Albers, and Lázsló Moholy-Nagy.

It wasn’t all wonderful and inspirational stuff though. Gropius was a great theoretic champion of sexual equality within the Bauhaus workshops but, in practice, female students were directed to the weaving class (sounds ridiculous today!). Although the best of Bauhaus weaving is stunning (there’s this other excellent documentary focussing on Anni Albers), there were huge frustrations in a system in which only one exceptionally determined student, Marianne Brandt, entered the product design workshop.

What I did find hugely inspiring about Bauhaus, back in the 1960s, was the drawing together of art, design and technology… and I still think this has massively important relevance today. Sadly, the pitiful focus (don’t get me started!) on ‘core subjects’ (Maths, English and Sciences) in the UK education system – at the expense of the Arts, Humanities and Technology is utterly shameful in my view… and goes against virtually everything the Bauhaus was championing.

Oh for that time of bold and beautiful experiment in bringing creativity alive to be re-born!

“visual arts that have influenced my life and faith”…

I was asked to be one of three panel members at the next Resonate evening (the brilliant bi-monthly Tuesday evening gathering in Saint Stephen’s ‘Secret Café’, Bristol). The subject was to ‘present and discuss visual arts that have influenced our lives and our faith’…
No pressure then!
Coming up with examples of visual arts that have influenced my life was relatively straightforward (although ‘influenced’ is perhaps too strong a word?) – except that, of course, my ‘selection’ one week would be entirely different to my choices the following week! I duly started to add examples to a folder on my desktop… easy peasy. The problem was merely ‘when to stop’!
But then I received a message from one of the lovely organisers, suggesting that each of us panel members just come up with two examples. Just TWO! Blimey… how on earth will I be able to limit my choice to two, for goodness sake?

Image #1: Visual arts that have influenced my life?

So, of ALL the images I’d amassed, I had to pick just one. It’s ridiculously difficult and, like anyone’s ‘Desert Island Disc’ selections, the top-pick would change all the time:
FALLING WATER/FRANK LLOYD WRIGHT:
This sketch (by Wright, 1935) encapsulates my growing interest (and awareness) in architecture when I was still at school. It hasn’t influenced my faith (I wasn’t a Christian until I was 24)… but it started me off on a journey…
I was just starting A level Art, aged 15 (because I was in the ‘fast stream’ at school, I’d been forced to drop Art at the end of first year - but managed to persuade the powers-that-be to allow me to take O level Art in my final pre-sixth form year), and decided to take the ‘history of architecture’ option (for no special reason). I subsequently became fascinated by the likes of Le Corbusier, Mies van der Rohe, Charles Rennie Mackintosh and Frank Lloyd Wright… and also found myself REPEATEDLY taking out a book of architectural illustrations by Helmut Jacoby from our local public library (I swear I was the only person who EVER borrowed the book – and it felt as though it was really ‘mine’!). I later went on to study Architecture at university and, subsequently (in the days before computer-aided design etc!), tried to emulate the skills of Wright(!) and Jacoby in my own architectural practice – well, my work did include quite a few sketch perspectives for clients. So, it seems entirely appropriate for Image #1 to be an architectural illustration by Frank Lloyd Wright.

And then of course was the ‘other’ question: ‘visual arts that have influenced my FAITH’?

Well, the straight answer is: I can’t think of ANY art that has specifically influenced my faith… I REALLY can’t. I’ve attended talks by artists who have waxed lyrical on similar subjects but who, frankly, merely managed to wind me up by their somewhat gushing views (or maybe I was just simply jealous?)!

Image #2: Visual arts that have influenced my faith?

A couple of weeks ago, I came across this comment by a writer from Yale University’s Divinity School: “The urgent needs of the world force artists of faith to ask what truly matters in each note, paint stroke, or stanza”.
Whilst I’m sure this is true for some artists, this DEFINITELY doesn’t apply to me…
The trouble is that I simply draw what I see.
I’m NOT trying to send any sort of message out to the wider world. I don’t try to produce ironic (or iconic!), meaningful, passionate images conveying subliminal statements.
I do admit that taking photographs is somewhat different – frequently trying to ‘capture the moment’ (people, action, clouds, sunrises, sunsets …) – stuff that has gone forever within milliseconds or minutes.

It might be more relevant to ask: “is what I draw or photograph influenced by my faith?”. Perhaps the nearest I come to combining visual art with faith is encapsulated in Mary Oliver’s poem ‘Upstream’, when she writes: “attention is the beginning of devotion” (the poem issues a warning about “looking without noticing” – which has been my mantra for perhaps the last 25 years).

I found it incredibly difficult to come up with an appropriate image… but this piece of work perhaps comes close:
ANOTHER PLACE, ANTONY GORMLEY, CROSBY, 2005:
100 cast iron identical figures on Crosby beach.
It hasn’t influenced my faith, but it feels like something of a metaphor for my spiritual journey… All the figures look out to sea; there’s a sense of awareness, of looking, of seeing; something about man’s relationship with nature and the world; the challenges; the ebb+flow of the tide; things constantly changing (weather, night+day, water levels, barnacles, grafitti etc).
Gormley said this about his ‘Another Place’ artwork and I think it fits in with my own perception of the work: “I want to see whether it’s possible for art to be everyone’s, in the same way that the sky is and it still seems to me, that that is the most exciting challenge in art. Can you make the conditions that surround us all the time, into an arena for a kind of awareness that wouldn’t exist before, and I guess Another Place is a good example of this, where we have a beach, we have tide, we have changing conditions of weather and night and day and into that you insert these works, but adequately spaced, to allow for people to walk between them and in fact it’s the space between that is critical always in the work.”

Has my appreciation of the visual arts changed as a result of becoming a Christian? I’m not sure. What is true perhaps is that my faith has helped shape the way I see the world – its beauty, design, colour, creativity, tolerance, wonder, simplicity, peace, connectedness and humanity.

For me, the visual arts play an important role in stimulating imagination and creativity, reflection and perception; they open one’s eyes to new possibilities, they question and they reveal… and those are also the characteristics that I want my faith to have.
PS: The images I’d originally ‘highlighted’ included work from the following: Le Corbusier, Frank Lloyd Wright, Henri Cartier-Bresson, Charles Rennie MacKintosh, Joseph Southall, Grayson Perry, Turner, Pre-Raphaelites, Stanley Spencer, Bauhaus, David Hockney, The Bloomsbury Group, Habitat, Modigliani, Richard Long, Rembrandt, Van Gogh, Helmut Jacoby, Antony Gormley, Hugh Casson, Eric Ravilious, Tirzah Garwood, Don McCullin, Eric Gill, Fred Taylor, Frida Kahlo, Laura Knight, Michelangelo, Raphael, Jane Bown, Albrecht Dürer, 2001 Space Odyssey, Twiggy/Ronald Traeger, Dante Gabriel Rossetti and Si Smith… but it could easily have been DOZENS more.

patrick heron at tate st ives…

It’s probably taken me nearly twenty years to become a lover of Patrick Heron’s work. We were in St Ives last week (you probably knew that already!) and one of the very real pleasures of our stay (and there were SEVERAL!) was the ability to visit the Tate on a daily basis – through the use of our Art Passes.
I have to say that seeing Heron’s work in the rather lovely, recently-extended Tate was a huge pleasure. I still find some of Heron’s pieces somewhat incomprehensible or a little weird, but there were perhaps a dozen or more of his paintings that I thought were quite wonderful.
I’m one of those people who, certainly in the past, has frequently found the world of abstract art rather bewildering (verging on ‘Emperor’s Clothes’ at times). However, Moira and I took advantage of visiting the exhibition very soon after the gallery had opened first thing most mornings – and before the crowds had gathered – and there’s something rather magical about having a large, beautiful gallery space virtually to yourself while you stare at one of Heron’s very large pieces. Vibrant, contrasting colours… delicate textures… challenging, subtle compositions…
Such a privilege.
Fascinating, again for me anyway, to be reminded of the profound influence that European artists had on Heron’s work (some more obvious than others… Matisse, Cezanne, Braque, Bonnard) and also American art of the 1950s and 60s (Rothko, Pollock, Louis, Olitski). I even bought the excellent, illustrated book that accompanies the exhibition (which will hopefully help keep last week in the memory). Somewhat predictably, there are passages in the book that I found faintly ridiculous and somewhat over-the-top (“I can say these things because I’m a renowned art critic, darling!”?)… but maybe it’s just my lack of intelligence and/or sophistication? Andrew Wilson’s introduction to the book, for example, included this passage (taken at random): “However, the actual images are found not through transcription of any kind but from sub-conscious knowledge, feeling and cumulative experience in which eye, mind, arm and hand are joined together to deliver impulsive, yet deliberate, marks”. Indeed, Heron himself was no stranger to eloquent, if unintelligible, descriptions (the word ‘pretentious’ comes to mind?) of his approach to art or in expressing his arguments in exchanges with fellow artists and/or writers… but, hey, perhaps that’s just me?!
Fortunately, the book also contains a number of essays (from various Heron admirers, art critics and writers) which helpfully unpick various aspects of his work. And hat’s off too to the Tate… I thought their daily talks - given by knowledgeable, enthusiastic and talented staff members – were absolutely excellent and reflected a passion and an admiration but without all the hyperbole!
A wonderful exhibition set in a beautiful, spacious building.
Photo: a few images/details taken from the exhibition… so much to see!

modigliani exhibition at tate modern…

I rather like the work of Amedeo Modigliani (1884-1920).
As those who know me will realise… this is a bit of an understatement. I’ve had the exhibition dates in my diary since the start of the year and so it was a ‘bit special’ for Moira and me to make it to Tate Modern last Friday (just a day after the exhibition opened).
The exhibition certainly lived up to my expectations and there was something very special to be able to view over 100 of his well-known portraits (not forgetting the single landscape!).
For me, it perfectly captured the creative, bohemian atmosphere of Paris in those early years of the twentieth century… and, in particular, the vibrant arts ‘scene’ of Montmartre (Modigliani arrived there from Italy in 1906).  My only regret was in failing to book a virtual reality exploration of the artist’s life and the environment that inspired his work.
I thoroughly enjoyed seeing Modigliani’s work more or less in date sequence… and, in particular, how he concentrated for some two years on producing superb sculpted stone heads (six were exhibited at the Salon d’Automne in Paris in 1912 – the only substantial exhibition of his sculpture during his lifetime)… seeing them ‘up close’ was quite a revelation. Fascinating how their elongated form (and the numerous accompanying sketches he produced at this time) seemed to influence much of his subsequent portraits over the remaining eight years of his life.
Actually, I was wrong when I said “my only regret” about the exhibition… somewhat inevitably, perhaps six of my very favourite Modigliani portraits were missing (eg. a particular portrait of Zborowski; Portrait of Woman in Hat; Bride and Groom; Gypsy Woman with Baby; Madame Kisling; Portrait of a Woman in a Black Tie)… but, hey, the exhibition DID have a beautiful oil painting that I’d not previously seen (Nude Study, 1908) – either in books or via the internet.
I really did enjoy this exhibition and, as a result, will be continuing to read about Modigliani’s life and work over the coming the weeks and months.
Photo: Exhibition entrance, Tate Modern
PS: Very interesting to see the Edgar Degas (1834-1917) exhibition at The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge two days later... born in France and spent most of life working in Paris.

touching turner’s treasures (again)…

You may recall me singing the praises of the Ashmolean Museum’s brilliant Print Room in Oxford at various times in the past… I’ve previously viewed works by Michelangelo, Raphael and Turner there.

Well, I made another trip there yesterday to see some more of Turner’s watercolours. The museum is fortunate to have been bequeathed large quantities of artwork from John Ruskin in 1861. I was originally going to look at the handful of watercolour sketches Turner did of Oxford but, having chatted to the wonderfully enthusiastic and efficient Katherine (I’d met her on my previous visits in 2011 and 2012), I decided, instead, to look at some of the watercolours he did in France in 1830 – on the Loire, in Orleans, Tours, Blois and the like – a total of 22 watercolours in total.

I spent very nearly an hour poring over these amazing pieces of work. Each of them quite small – none bigger than say 15x20cm – apparently undertaken quite quickly and yet containing amazing amounts of detail (Turner’s ability to ‘imply’ detail through his technical mastery is simply breath-taking at times). I’ve merely dabbled in watercolours in the past (enjoyably, but pretty unsuccessfully!), but taking time to study these works by Turner left me completely in awe.

A huge privilege and another truly magical, memorable experience.

Photo: Just two of the watercolours I actually handled yesterday: Amboise (left) and ‘The Bridge and Chateau at Amboise’ (right).

PS: The Print Room at the Ashmolean is open to “members of the public, students and visiting scholars alike for the study and enjoyment of drawings and prints from the collection” (quote from the print room brochure)… and it’s free.
PPS: Turner’s output makes my ‘One Day Like This’ project (posting a daily drawing/photograph on my blog) positively puny in comparison (not that I could possibly compare myself to HIM!). Over the past 5 years or so, I’ve posted some 950 sketches. Turner left over 19,000 sketches and watercolours in the “Turner Bequest”, hundreds of finished watercolours and well over 500 oil paintings. How on earth did he find the time (he virtually produced a ‘sketch’ EVERY day of his adult life – and this doesn’t allow for his “finished” paintings!)? Blimey.

world turned upside down exhibition…

I blogged about this exhibition a few days ago… but have since been up to Leeds to attend the preview night and have seen this hugely impressive group exhibition for myself. It’s curated by my great mate Si Smith and features the work of some 17 artists, responding to the Beatitudes.
The exhibition runs from Friday 20 October until Wednesday 15 November in St Edmund’s Church (Lidgett Park Road, Roundhay, Leeds LS8 1JN).

Well, it’s a pretty stunning exhibition… humbling to see some of the work from the other artists… and so beautifully put together. I particularly appreciated the ‘blurb’ from each of the artists about their work for the exhibition.
I definitely think it’s one of those exhibitions that people will choose to visit a number of times – there is so much thought-provoking work on display that having time to sit and ponder each of the pieces would be well worthwhile.
The exhibition is simply brilliant… please see it if you can.
Photo: a very rapidly put together collage of photographs of the work on display (hopefully, I’ve included work from all of the participating artists!?).
PS: The beautiful poetry of my great friend Ian Adams was also featured – in conjunction with powerful artwork from Ric Stott.

world turned upside down…

“World Turned Upside Down” is the name of a rather special exhibition that’s being curated by my amazing friend Si Smith (see note below) in Leeds. Although I feel a little out of my depth (understatement!), I am one of 17 artists (including daughter Ruth) contributing work for the exhibition. 
It’s a group exhibition responding to the Beatitudes.
The exhibition runs from evening Friday (evening) 20 October until Wednesday 15 November in St Edmund’s Church (Lidgett Park Road, Roundhay, Leeds LS8 1JN).
I previously participated in one of Si’s curated exhibitions at the Left Bank, Leeds in 2012… and it was stunningly impressive (not my stuff, I hasten to add!) – so I KNOW this one will be well worth seeing if you’re anywhere in the Leeds area.

Si Smith explains the unlikely, extraordinary inspiration for the exhibition as follows:

“At Donald Trump’s inauguration ceremony, the Beatitudes were read. That struck me as a truly dissonant moment and – whether deliberate or not – a pretty direct rebuke to the values that he represents. Because whilst we’ve succumbed to the belief that it’s the richest, the strongest and the most powerful who’ll always and inevitably triumph, the message of the beatitudes is that in the end, it is actually the meek who’ll inherit the Earth. As I pondered it, that idea of re-imagining a world turned on its head really appealed to me, and it’s something that our contributing artists have enjoyed grappling with too – I think that the work they are producing will make for a really interesting and thought-provoking exhibition”.

For the exhibition, I’ve put together twelve simple photographs of twelve rough sleepers (Chris, Daniel, Gary, Gemma, Geordie, Ian, Joe, Kim, Nathan, Paul, Phillip and Shaun) I’ve befriended over recent months. As I’m sure you’ll appreciate, here in Bristol – like most cities across the UK – there are SEVERAL dozen rough sleepers… (apparently, in the past six years, the number of rough sleepers in the city has increased NINEFOLD)(yes, ninefold!).

They each have their own stories, but I’m not providing any details or specifically identifying them. I think it’s better to let their portraits speak for them… (I’m not going to show the overall piece of work because one of the individuals didn’t want his photograph shown on facebook… and I don’t want to break his trust). They are individuals with lives to live – each with their hopes and aspirations, each with their fears and regrets.
Blessed be the meek…

This is what I wrote for my exhibition blurb:

“This year, I’ve spent more time talking to some of the rough sleepers in our city.
They’ve all got their stories…
The thing that has struck me most is their quiet dignity and their gentle friendliness.
I’ve never been threatened or verbally abused and they’re always happy to talk.
None of them likes the way they’re forced to live.
Some of them live in doorways.
Some live in small make-shift tents.
Some live in squats.
Some get the occasional respite of a night shelter.
Some are there because they lost their jobs and/or could no longer afford to pay their rent.
Some are there because of their own foolishness in the past.
Most are there due to circumstances beyond their control.
There are sad stories of broken relationships, broken homes… of being unable to cope.
There are sad stories of being verbally or physically abused by passers-by or rowdy drinkers.
There are sad stories of being robbed of what little money they had or having their tents slashed. 
Many feel ashamed by their circumstances.
Many just want to be given another chance.
Many simply feel hopeless… utterly hopeless.
Most feel that society doesn’t care about them.
The sad reality is that, once you’re down, it’s very difficult to get back on your feet again”.
I think the exhibition will provide plenty of food for thought.
Please see it if you can.
Photo: this is just ONE of the individuals I’ve spoken to over recent months… I chat to him regularly.
PS: Si Smith is a wonderful illustrator (as well as being a very special bloke)… who created, amongst LOTS of other work, the thought-provoking book “How To Disappear Completely”.