David Hockney: A Bigger Picture

David Hockney: A Bigger Picture at the Royal Academy is like a prescription for happiness. Better reviewers who know more about art than I do have written very eloquently about A Bigger Picture so I will just say go if you can, queue outside, go at 11pm- do what you must. The canvases just sing in the Royal Academy- the Grand Canyon up close is enormous and brimming with colour but it's only when you stand 3 rooms away that you see the fire of the sands burn and the paint almost become reality. The canvases are so vast- there is no way a poster reproduction on a wall could be the same- go, go!

What I wanted to say though is do stay and watch the presentation on the cinema screen near the end. Depending no when you arrive you will probably think it is just very slow moving images, which are pretty but a lot of people were moving on. Stay though as there is a ten minute section of dance which is just as life affirming and wide smile inducing as the exhibition. I was whistling and bopping down Piccadilly and all the way home!

Image of the exhibition catalogue from the The Royal Academy online shop.

René Gruau

The last few months of 2010 seemed to be about chasing time and never quite catching it- and so far 2011 has been about being calmer.

I have been trying to get back in touch with all kinds of culture- and this weekend I finally managed to get to the Dior Illustrated: René Gruau and the Line of Beauty exhibition at Somerset House, on its final day.

I know it isn't terribly helpful posting about something you can no longer see but of course you can see Gruau's drawing all over the internet.

There is a Gruau website which also has a link to the Gruau collection from where whom can buy prints of his work for Dior- my favourites are for Miss Dior above and Eau Savage below.



I think Gruau's work is charming but it must have also been a bit daring at the time- and the men's drawings especially do retain a certain edge.

It was a shame not to be able to buy a catalogue for this exhibition- so often you feel swamped by the inevitable merchandise at the end of touring a gallery but in this case I would have liked to find more.

As we walked around Dior Illustrated I found myself wishing illustration was used a little more in perfume and beauty (and perhaps all) advertising these days- photographs are what we are used to seeing but these pictures are in many ways more capable of inviting in dreams and more interesting to see- especially in magazines filled with pictures of faces that often look the same.

I wonder if Gruau knew his work might start to be collected? He was illustrating commercial work long before Andy Warhol or before the mainstream had really seen artistic value in advertising. The pictures on show were very fine, very detailed, pieces you would absolutely smile to see on your wall every day- as much as anything hanging over at the other end of the Somerset House Quad, where the permanent collection of more classical painting is held.

Love Potion No. 9 print

Perfume people- you want this don't you? So do I.

Available from www.ros-shiers.com. This print is £39 which is very reasonable in my opinion. There are lots of other lovely prints available. All are Giclée prints which her site says 'are guaranteed to not fade or age and have a colour life of 75-100 years. The Giclee printing process ensures a print with brilliant colour and razor sharp detail'. The prints also apparently fit in off the shelf frames being 30x 40cm which is fab because with most of the prints I buy the frames cost more than the pictures.

Found via Daily Candy.

PS. She has a blog too- skip over here to read.

Weekend homework

Your weekend homework, should you choose to accept is:

If you don't already read Mr London Street then head over there for some really sharp, funny, poignant writing (especially for Monday's post which was introduced by me- my bits aren't the funny, sharp, poignant ones).



For relaxing why now download the free Jarvis Cocker National Trust sounds- what a cool idea (although their website doesn't seem to be working this morning so hopefully it will be fixed by the weekend!).

Or if you would prefer music to sounds then Pete Roe's new EP is available for pre- order here. His music is timeless, touching and just filled with goodness. I can't wait to have some new songs of his to listen to.



Show your suppport for Portobello by signing up to Portobello rocks if you would like.



Remember to watch Ashes to Ashes episode 7 tonight or on i-player if you are as crazy about the programme as me.

For some culture I really enjoyed the magnificent maps at the British Library- and again it is free. There is also a Peyton and Byrne cafe to revive yourself in afterwards. I'd actually never been to the library before (ducks, I went to University in London, there are lots of libraries to use at the colleges, I have seen Star Wars). I actually had a funny couple of minutes when I went in and realised how much treasure was there and how important it was. I felt a bit tearful and I wanted to hug it close to me. Then I got sidetracked in the shop and started behaving more normally- but it's pretty great it's there, we are very lucky.



Have fun!

Van Gogh: The artist and his letters

The Real Van Gogh the artist and his letters.

I remember the first time I went to an art gallery very well; I was eleven or twelve and I was dressed in my Sunday best for a Saturday in town with my Father. At that age a day out in London was as exciting as Christmas to me and I felt so terribly grown up and important having people to meet and things to do in this enormous, beautiful place. We were early for our engagement so my father said would I like to go to the National Gallery and I said yes- not because I really knew if I would like the paintings or not but because it was national and important and in a building that looked like it was from Mary Poppins London and it felt like something you simply must do if offered.

I remember walking inside and being amazed at how beautiful the building was, like a church or museum, which were the only things I had to compare it to. I distinctly remember saying to my Father hadn’t we forgotten to pay when we walked into the first room with paintings and him saying no, it was free, it was the national gallery. I said so anyone can come? And he said yes of course (I’m not sure he went into details of permanent collections and special exhibitions at this stage). I thought how wonderful that was.

We looked at quite a few rooms with different styles and I remember having a good time. Then my Father said would I like to see the Sunflowers. I didn’t know very much at all about art or painting at this age but I knew what the sunflowers were. I stood in front of that picture for what felt like a long time- I suppose it was actually about five minutes. I said to my Father how wonderful it was that we could just walk off the street and share such a valuable, precious, beautiful thing- don’t hate my small self I wasn’t insufferable I was just struck with the idea that art should be for everyone and not locked up in houses where no one can see it.

Anyway that day a love affair with galleries and particularly Van Gogh began.

Some of my friends don’t like galleries and want to know why I do- and I think it is the chance to see something up close and in reality. I suppose seeing a Van Gogh is like having seen the Beatles play live or Richard Burton in Shakespeare- but we can all do it, it isn’t a moment in time- it captures that moment for us forever.

This post has come about because I have recently been to see Van Gogh the artist and his letters at the Royal Academy and seeing so many of his paintings in the flesh reminded me of that day out when I was younger. I felt exactly the same about the pictures now as I did then- that no postcard or reproduction I’d ever seen could come close to the real pictures. Now honestly I don’t feel this about a lot of artworks I see, it’s lovely to see them of course but it’s not so dramatically different to a text book that I feel desperately sorry for people who can’t see them. The Van Gogh paintings are different- I suppose it’s the technique, that heavy layering of paint.

Whatever the reason is they hit you with beauty, sadness and a hypnotic quality that just doesn’t translate in a print or postcard- you feel like you are a bit drunk with them- the colours, the life, the light he captures. They are almost too beautiful, especially when viewed with his letters, themselves written in the handwriting of an artist, which are at times filled with joy and at times sorrow. I had tears in my eyes when I looked at the work of his last days. I could never produce anything that beautiful if I worked all my life and he produced so many magnificent works in a matter of months. The fact he never knew how celebrated he would be, how much pleasure his work would give people breaks my heart because he sounds like a kind if troubled soul in his letters, full of love his brother and the places he lived.

The Ice Maiden

Last Christmas I visited one of my favourite exhibition spaces, Dulwich Picture Gallery, for their The Age of Enchantment exhibition about Beardsley, Dulac and other illustrators, including some Arthur Rackham, from 1890 to 1930. I had been so looking forward to the exhibition and it was a feast for the eyes and mind.

I particularly fell in love with the Ice Maiden picture above and have a poster I bought at the exhibition as a kind of Christmas decoration. It's a strange picture I suppose in that she looks so calm and serene but she is clearly cupping a heart in her hands so I wonder if she is as angelic as she looks. She seems able to tame Polar bears so she must be very powerful or knowledgeable, or perhaps they have a great respect for her. I think the mystery makes the picture more interesting.

Whenever I look at this illustration I think of the scent of Crabtree and Evelyn's Winter Birch. This sadly seems to be discontinued from their main sites but I did find some independent American sites which are still selling some of the line, including this one.

From memory it is a startling well put together home fragrance; it smells of walking through snow in darkness or fading light as the ice maiden is doing, there are fir trees nearby and in the far distance a house with a gentle glow of warmth and the scent of mulling and logs from the chimney floats on the breeze. It is both a scent that smells of the cold but is also incredibly warming and comforting. I really regret not stocking up on more of the candles last year and am going to have to track some down so I can be my own kind of ice maiden.



Winter Birch picture courtesy of: https://www.paradiseemporium.com.au/companyProducts.asp?id=465

The Ice Maiden by Aubrey Beardlsey picture courtesy of: www.dulwichpicturegallery.org.uk

The art of scent

This weekend I really enjoyed this article in the Times Literary Supplement by Angus Trumble.

He discusses why perfume isn't taken more seriously as an art form while references Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez's beautiful Perfumes the Guide.

What I really enjoyed about the article as that the author was obviously not from inside the world of perfume, the article says he is curator of paintings and sculpture at the Yale Center for British Art in New Haven Connecticut. Nevertheless he is saying exactly what so many of us say, that some scents are as evocative as a great piece of music or a particularly poignant, beautiful or even unsettling painting. Also that the great perfumers are artists who deserve to be recognised as such in the way a sculpture, painter or composer is.

I just enjoyed coming across these thoughts somewhere I wasn't expecting to and the idea that someone might read their paper, pick up their favourite scent and think again about it, about who composed it and why they enjoy it.

Paintings kill pain

This article discusses a study about art and pain. It has concluded that looking at beautiful art did ease the physical pain of the people who took part in the study. It goes on to say this might help hospitals to justify expenditure on art for their wards which has to be a good thing.

Starry night picture courtesy of: http://www.postershop.com/Van-Gogh-Vincent/Van-Gogh-Vincent-Starry-Night-7900566.html

How the Dalmation got her spots

I want this print- lots!

It's by artist Sonia Rollo and you can read more about her here

I saw the print in the window of a closed gallery/ shop on the Lower Richmond Road in Putney and have been thinking back about it ever since.

I think the falling leaves are very appropriate at the moment... London definitely feels more Autmunal now. There's a chill in the morning and the evening and the light has changed so that whatever the weather everything seems a little darker.

I'm not sure we have had enough of a Summer this year but I am looking forward to a long and glorious Autumn- and already thinking of wearing my heavier perfumes.

Hammershoi and Firelight

The Hammershoi exhibition has really stayed with me. I suppose when you go see an exhibition at somewhere like the Royal Academy you often go because you already know about an artist they are exhibiting and like their work.

However in this case I didn't know of Hammershoi but the poster on the tube really struck a chord and I wanted to see more. I suppose discovering work I had never seen before up close as oils on canvas for the first time rather than in a book is really much better and that is part of the reason I am a bit obsessed.

I also think the fact that in the majority of the house studies we see the lady from the back keeps the intrigue up as Michael Plain suggests. Plus there is the fact that the paintings are beautiful and the interiors make me want to paint everything dove grey and to be much more minimalist.

Anyway I have been thinking how like the Hammershois the interiors and light of a little film called Firelight are. Which leads me on to the film itself. I happened upon Firelight when I was looking up some period dramas on amazon, seeing that Sophie Marceau and Stephen Dillane were the leads I was intrigued. The story also sounded strange but very interesting and not unlike Jane Eyre (which all comments on this film note), which is a certain favourite of mine. So I did something unusual for me and just clicked 'buy' not wishlist, not think about it for a while 'buy'.

The film has an unusual premise but I really enjoyed it, I don't want to spoil it but you can read the plot here if you want to. I was really gripped by both the film itself and the incredibly spare but beautiful set dressing and interiors. This was partiucularly true of the upper, servants quarters type part of the house where everything is shown in muted tones of dove grey and charcoal or ebony with accents of white and some occasional shots of colour on China or paintings. The costumes were also very spare and almost puritanically plain. Now I can't stop thinking how like the Hammershois some of the upstairs interiors scenes were and wanting to check if I remeber correctly.

My dvd is, of course, on an extended loan 400 miles away. So I have done some internet searching but I can't find pictures of the scenes I'm thinking of with the little girl and the governess in the teaching room and of the governess' quarters.

These are the best stills I could find from the film.



Picture 1: http://farm1.static.flickr.com/141/371081092_c09e41b27f.jpg?v=0

Picture 2:http://www.citypaper.net/articles/100898/gifpics/movies1.GIF

Small film stills: http://www.cnn.com/SHOWBIZ/Movies/9809/04/review.firelight/index.html

Grey days: Saturday 9th of August

It has been raining and grey all day in London and I’ve had a wonderful time. If you just accept the soggy flip flop shod feet and frizz to the hair there is really nothing so bad about a warm, grey, drizzly day in the best city of all the rainy day cities.

So I hopped on the 22 up to Piccadily and in a wildly extravagant and possibly slight crazy move I bought these:



From here

Then I went to see this which is compelling… the muted colours and grey skies in the windows were perfect for today. I rather fell in love with Hammershoi’s work. I agree with Michael Palin, who it appears stole a march on lots of us and has been a Hammershoi fan for many years, when he says he can’t understand why Hammershoi’s work isn’t better known or more admired.




His painting is very photographic, he captures light beautifully and his work is very quiet, as far from ostentatious or showy as it could possibly be. It’s true that his style reminded me of Whistler, who the catalogue tells us was one of Hammershio’s heroes.

The exhibition made me think again how gifted and artistic Scandinavian people have always been and how much more we have in common with them than the neighbours we look to on our Southern and Western shores.

I ended my day visiting two bookshops, both lovely treasures but in different ways.
First a hop and a skip over the road to Hatchard’s where I bought this:



Then on to Holborn to Lamb’s Conduit Street and Persephone Books.



I bought this but wanted virtually everything. Lamb’s Conduit Street is one of those hidden wonder streets, it’s pedestrianised which is always agreeable (I am not an anti car fascist, I love cars but find concentrating on the road and not walking into it when I see something arresting in a window tricky!) it also has some nice individual shops that are fun to potter in.

It is very easy to get lost in this part of London, or at least it is for me. Still I don’t seem to learn so having bought a book I wandered off with purpose and apparently not much sense of direction and got fairly lost, but not in alarming way- I always vaguely knew where I was… just not exactly where I was. Still I found my way and sometimes the best way isn't the quickest way. As Jack Johnson says getting lost is not a waste of time. I eventually hopped back on a bus and home to a warm bath looking forward to reading my new book.

Rupert Sanderson grey court shoe picture courtesy of Rupert Sanderson's website, as above

Hammershoi picture courtesy of the Royal Acadmey website, as above

Special edition Virago 84 Charing Cross Road picture courtesy of: http://www.littlebrown.co.uk/assets/images/EAN/Large/9781844085248.jpg

Persephone books picture courtesy of their website, as above.

Laugharne

I can't decide if I am excited about the forthcoming John Maybury film The Edge of Love or not.

I greatly admire Dylan's work and I'm a sucker for anything wartime- be it London or rural- so I should love this but I'm not convinced- we'll see.

What I know is that I love Laugharne, where Dylan and Caitlin Thomas spent their later years together.

The pictures above are by a photographer called David Wilson whose work I came across when visiting West Wales about a year ago.

Ever since visiting Laugharne and seeing Dylan Thomas' writing shed (above) and the ramshackle but gorgeous old book shop in the town(also above) I have coveted these two prints quite obsessively.

I sought his work out on the internet having told myself when in Wales that I didn't need two large framed prints and would be much better putting the money they would cost towards saving for a wall of my own to put pictures on.

I eventually found his work and you can see more of it here.

L'Enfant A L'Orange

Recently there were lots of articles about the sale of the one of Vincent Van Gough’s last paintings, L’Enfant A L’Orange. The painting was being described as one of his happiest works. Often we think of happy art as rather twee. I think we also therefore feel we should be less moved by ‘happy’ paintings or other work and that it should have a lower ranking on the lists of art we admit to loving because it is happy.

I must say I held somewhat to this view of ‘proper’ art often being more sad or melancholy myself. I like retro advertising or prints of flowers on my walls but in a gallery I am more drawn to the strange, sad or unsettling pictures than the chocolate box landscapes and ruddy faced people looking jolly.

However L’Enfant a l’Orange has definitely made an impression on me, despite being in the ‘happy’ category. It’s an incredibly evocative painting which appeals to my senses far more than other paintings I can think of- and I haven’t even seen the real canvas but am relying on internet and newspaper pictures.

The orange looks so real, ripe and ready to bite- and I don’t even particularly like oranges. The way the enfant’s cheeks are flushed with heat and excitement makes my own cheeks remember how it feels to burn red and then start to cool as I relax- so that I feel both the hot sensation in my face and the cold to touch sensation of sweat cooling and drying on my skin. The enfant’s cheeks look slightly aggravated as if perhaps she has already eaten an orange and is a little allergic- but the anticipation on her face is such that she can’t have bitten yet.

The child is transfixed, almost hypnotised, by the thought of the cold, sweet and sharp tang of biting at the orange flesh and feeling the acid juice mix with the salt a hot day has left on her lips.
I really want to own a copy of this painting, just a postcard or picture in a book. It is such a fabulous example of how real painting can look and how it can transport you. Every time I look at the girl with the orange I am transported to the summer.

Picture courtesy of The Independent.