tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26948991259243318402024-02-19T23:39:45.670+00:00Culture and Anarchyculture being a pursuit of our total perfection by means of getting to know, on all the matters which most concern us, the best which has been thought and said in the world; and through this knowledge, turning a stream of fresh and free thought upon our stock notions and habits (Matthew Arnold, Culture & Anarchy, 1869)Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.comBlogger53125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-61835197785702535382008-11-09T15:08:00.000+00:002008-11-09T15:09:35.671+00:00Moving blogs...This blog is no longer being updated. If you would like to continue reading Culture and Anarchy, please visit my new site: <a href="http://www.cultureandanarchy.wordpress.com/">www.cultureandanarchy.wordpress.com</a><br />Thanks for reading!Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-48855770433695868292008-10-31T09:50:00.001+00:002008-10-31T10:05:41.624+00:00Prescott: a class act...?I keep reading reviews of <em>Prescott: The Class System and Me</em> (Mondays, 9pm, BBC2) so decided I should watch it. No great surprises - Prescott is what we all know him to be - proud of his working-class roots but equally proud of his large house ("Prescott Castle"), his Jags and his croquet. What a conundrum the man is! - or so the voiceover kept telling us. I don't have any strong feelings for the man - good on him for getting to where he is, though he can be rather annoying. The reviews have all raved about the wonders of Pauline Prescott, who seems like a pleasant well-meaning woman, if rather less hard-edged than her husband, who declares "The upper classes are the enemy!" Two scenes seemd particularly revealing: firstly, when he met some teenage girls, who explained to him what chavs were and that they weren't chavs. Prescott asked what class they thought they were; one of them asserted she was middle-class. Prescott expressed surprise; he thought she was working class. "But I don't work," she explained patiently. I presume her trust fund keeps her going while she looks for a job. He seemed proud of his ability to communicate with these youngsters; however, this was based on swapping tales of people they have punched. Not a great role model, then. The other moment was at Henley, where Prescott, clearly uncomfortable among the blazers and Pimms, points out to some young men that "only 7.5% of the population go to private schools, but they occupy 80% of high-level civil service, legal and political positions". This is wrong, he explains. One of the lads asks if perhaps that's indicative of the standard of education offered by the private schools. Prescott glosses over this. But surely this is exactly the point. The programme stresses over and over that class is not about money. They don't consider exactly what it <em>is</em> about, but the essence of it, as Prescott agonises over his grammar and claims to never have read a book, is that education is what makes you what you are. Surely, rather than trying to destroy privilege, Prescott should want to improve education, not destroy what already works. He comes across as a man deeply jealous of those who have had a good education, who speak well and use good grammar. One wonders why, if it matters that much to him, he didn't try to remedy this years ago. But then, perhaps, he wouldn't be able to go on about his working-class background and the perceived insidious evil of the middle- and upper-classes so much.Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-10939788466500371502008-10-28T16:49:00.000+00:002008-10-28T16:57:59.280+00:00Twenty years of the Pre-Raphaelite Society<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6r-tsOkwSQLxgzX2YRBs68S7HwvA9t5axJP4kTmr7FSl1PVlnrBguUwW4njl0qxkSMKYeWJkeTZefhyXpftlTLleTYsF7N3nBKb3a8hRgMjDXZNJucXYAQQ6J7qwe3yUpl3c009y-aGE/s1600-h/PRSanniv.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262250007674389730" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 92px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6r-tsOkwSQLxgzX2YRBs68S7HwvA9t5axJP4kTmr7FSl1PVlnrBguUwW4njl0qxkSMKYeWJkeTZefhyXpftlTLleTYsF7N3nBKb3a8hRgMjDXZNJucXYAQQ6J7qwe3yUpl3c009y-aGE/s200/PRSanniv.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.pre-raphaelitesociety.org/">The Pre-Raphaelite Society </a>is celebrating 20 years since it began in Birmingham. Since it began, the PRS has followed its aims of "the celebration of the mood and style of art which Ruskin recognised and preserved by his writings, and to the observation of its wide-ranging influence. In co-operation with societies of similar aims world-wide, it seeks to commemorate Pre-Raphaelite ideals by means of meetings, conferences, discussions, publications and correspondence, and to draw attention to significant scholastic work in this field. First and foremost, however, it is a society in which individuals can come together to enjoy the images and explore the personalities of the Pre-Raphaelites and their followers through the medium of fine art, the appreciation of good design and the excellence of the traditional arts."<br /><div><div>We have celebrated our 20th anniversary with a conference, "Eminent Pre-Raphaelites", in Birmingham this summer, with a cake at the AGM, dinners and teas, and finally with a celebratory issue of the <em>Review</em>, consisting of contributions from well-known names such as Jan Marsh, Paul Barlow, Angela Thirlwell, Anne Anderson, Benedict Read and Paul Goldman, featuring the founding members of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood.</div></div>Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-44597833572543542672008-10-24T11:43:00.001+00:002008-10-29T08:05:18.917+00:00Subversive Reading<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuuFQZNkYqR8BTVNKAcn_0TcYMGmiKcr1meWEsLH093cwzRnimEOdqN4JHl6AN4HQRZtc-d2yAivQXQ8j9YD16pUDk313el7J-RxRGLG5L_JFfxyXE4aYHrz4Nuz5vRphwTjgo-YX4lv0/s1600-h/logo.png"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260689125787085794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 162px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 138px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuuFQZNkYqR8BTVNKAcn_0TcYMGmiKcr1meWEsLH093cwzRnimEOdqN4JHl6AN4HQRZtc-d2yAivQXQ8j9YD16pUDk313el7J-RxRGLG5L_JFfxyXE4aYHrz4Nuz5vRphwTjgo-YX4lv0/s200/logo.png" border="0" /></a> <div>The excellent Birmingham Book Festival commissioned the philosopher A C Grayling to give a lecture at the festival this year, entitled "The Good Reader and the World". This is in part a tribute to the <a href="http://www.yearofreading.org.uk/index.php?id=81">National Year of Reading</a>, which encourages the promotion of literacy for children and enjoyment of reading for everyone. In line with this, Professor Grayling began his lecture by giving a detailed summary of the history of reading, from the earliest known literate communities in Ancient Egypt through to the reading explosion of the autodidacts of the nineteenth century. Grayling particularly emphasised the impacts of the early printing presses, particularly their significance not only in rising literacy, but in the fact that literacy was therefore no longer largely exclusive to the church and the ruling classes. The subversiveness of access to religious texts, for example, is not something we think much of these days, but it meant that more people were able to challenge the church on the basis of their own reading - literacy is pwer, and as it spreads power is disseminated. During the Renaissance the importance of the classical literature of Ovid, Cicero, Virgil etc allowed "insight into the wider mind of Europe", broadening the views of those who could read them (which was of course still a small minority). By the nineteenth century, however, books were cheaper and more available, and more people could read - especially essays and poetry - and many of the working-class were able to educate themselves through their reading. This is hugely significant for social development of a country as a whole, Grayling pointed out, because those who read are thinking more; for example, revolutionaries in the seventeenth century such as the Levellers and the New Model Army were literate, which is hardly a coincidence.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh87dXAuGD6DdMQhbIr8FZEtYMEmbr1vWwMw8O9Sp7BovRtqqqPHKlv2JcH8R9-SKevfza-PmeCnXGz536-F6FxODBxBP3ifxXTBjB20FoP9IAJGtXDUuxhxcTaedZf_xFBRnpPKdJgShk/s1600-h/books_narrowweb__300x409,0.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260688926809905474" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 146px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh87dXAuGD6DdMQhbIr8FZEtYMEmbr1vWwMw8O9Sp7BovRtqqqPHKlv2JcH8R9-SKevfza-PmeCnXGz536-F6FxODBxBP3ifxXTBjB20FoP9IAJGtXDUuxhxcTaedZf_xFBRnpPKdJgShk/s200/books_narrowweb__300x409,0.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div>Grayling emphasised the different modes of reading - passive reading, for plot alone, such as one might with a beach novel, and intensive reading, where one puts thought and consideration into the book, permitting a dialogue between reader and author, disagreeing with it, coming to one's own conclusions. This, he suggests, is the way to be fulfilled in one's reading, and it has a transformative effect on the reader. Some books, of course, invite purely passive reading, while others engage the reader sometimes against their will, and it those that are treasures. </div><div>Modern British education fosters "literacy" and "numeracy" in the quest to turn citizens into "good foot-soldiers in the economic battle", but as Grayling says, Aristotle said that the point of education was to make "noble use of our leisure". Education isn't about getting a job; it's about one's life and what one does with it, and permits one to be a "responsible contributor to public conversation", and indeed a responsible voter, too. Looking at the future of reading, Grayling is optimistic, suggesting that there will always be readers, and always people who do find necessary stimulation in books, even if the nature of "books" as we know them is overtaken by technology. The content of books "will never be far from the centre of a genuinely civilised society".</div>Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-77478482054275839302008-10-23T07:53:00.000+00:002008-10-23T08:14:17.166+00:00Carol Ann Duffy<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicYDXVMx8Ws5nfnRV2UyB-kNntqx20YeMZgFvkD9wpMNGiJbgfXEVL93Oyffk5DvWxNFetoKQ8qXZId-thq9pZPtDnhooZUoxOLen5_HJcDmgVhoJ76s5_hY4B_Joa_JKMXc5gAeybIe8/s1600-h/carol-ann-duffy-portrait.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260255983066854898" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicYDXVMx8Ws5nfnRV2UyB-kNntqx20YeMZgFvkD9wpMNGiJbgfXEVL93Oyffk5DvWxNFetoKQ8qXZId-thq9pZPtDnhooZUoxOLen5_HJcDmgVhoJ76s5_hY4B_Joa_JKMXc5gAeybIe8/s200/carol-ann-duffy-portrait.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.contemporarywriters.com/authors/?p=auth104">Carol Ann Duffy</a> is, it seems, fast becoming something of a <em>grande dame</em> of British poetry, and with good reason. I have always enjoyed her poems, but it wasn't until I went to hear her read at the Birmingham Book Festival earlier this week that I realised just how well-written her poems are, and how they stand up to scrutiny. "Something for everyone" is a phrase I use but generally dislike, but it does seem to be kind of true in this case: she opened her reading with extracts from 'The Laughter of Stafford Girls High', a poem which rather reminds me of my own schooldays and the infectious laughter of teenage girls (although usually schools don't need to be closed down because of laughter!) It's a funny poem, unsurprisingly, being about laughter, but it's also an amazingly descriptive poems that captures individuals caught up in a mass movement of laughter. Certainly Duffy's reading raised much laughter from the audience.</div><div>Her next few poems were also familiar to me, and no doubt to many in the audience: 'Mrs Midas', 'Mrs Aesop', 'Mrs Faust' - these are also funny poems, and yet as she reads, with a dry humour and a delicious slowness which lingers on the words, her choice of words becomes ever more significant. Everyone should have to listen to poetry read aloud properly (not the mangled syllables of the classroom) - listening, one is forced to become a passive auditor, which allows the imagination that much more action, and imbues the poems with something quite different. I was disappointed that she didn't read one of my favourite poems, though, 'A Dreaming Week' from her book <em>Feminine Gospels</em>, which seems langorously to play with words for the hell of it, and the effect is sensuous, soporific and somehow thrilling. Duffy is also a poet who knows the power of repetition - either of words or of sounds of words, and she uses it not just for humorous effect but also for pathos and drama, which even her most amusing poems contain.</div><div>Finall<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnkxle8p9jXtx0HHIPmjmmzXhWFnqg5_j2-FQqnhEZ7NVKpZDvuxS0SSkb3PQCa7BNd8x6DjGHW8dm35yGF4je-E2zvwqbfsRNtHgBBafm5NTn9d7FrAWmY6Pr5vgWMre15jbVtjXAvx4/s1600-h/rapture-carol-ann-duffy-paperback-cover.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260259086546898018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 80px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnkxle8p9jXtx0HHIPmjmmzXhWFnqg5_j2-FQqnhEZ7NVKpZDvuxS0SSkb3PQCa7BNd8x6DjGHW8dm35yGF4je-E2zvwqbfsRNtHgBBafm5NTn9d7FrAWmY6Pr5vgWMre15jbVtjXAvx4/s200/rapture-carol-ann-duffy-paperback-cover.jpg" border="0" /></a>y, she read some more serious poems from her most recent book, <em>Rapture</em>. This is rather different from her other work, being a book of love poems, but there's nothing soppy or unneccessary here. The book is based on the "fractured sonnet form", she says, suggesting that the sonnet is a kind of secular prayer: short, memorable, adhering to conventions, and expressing very personal emotions. She told the audience that she had abandoned religion at fifteen, and now feels that "prayer must be a comfort for believers, but atheists have only art". The last poem she read, 'Prayer', reflects this, using secular images to fill the mind in a kind of worship. All her poems seem to have a kind of intertextuality - referring to other poems, other forms, works of art - yet she makes them entirely available to the audience, chatting as she goes about Greek mythology, T S Eliot, Shakespeare, mobile phones, cups of tea...I wouldn't have missed it for the world.</div><div><br /></div><br /><div></div>Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-34535747643885538542008-10-22T08:04:00.000+00:002008-10-22T08:08:23.614+00:00National Student Forum<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIefUH4VXy6GE_AIFO5evk8DRYoD3k8vKnNDug35Fv1JCwJVRwsqVvbz0FqwRG7Jxuy7jmc6nhZfEsm3Y2M985sJyNKBIERoLkLz7_oq3OEqKQbZ7zVMOezgI40c5BHpDoADqf6HfIJwQ/s1600-h/nsf_logo.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259886924243339666" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIefUH4VXy6GE_AIFO5evk8DRYoD3k8vKnNDug35Fv1JCwJVRwsqVvbz0FqwRG7Jxuy7jmc6nhZfEsm3Y2M985sJyNKBIERoLkLz7_oq3OEqKQbZ7zVMOezgI40c5BHpDoADqf6HfIJwQ/s200/nsf_logo.gif" border="0" /></a>I'm delighted to say that the National Student Forum has launched our first annual report. This was presented to the Government by our chair last week, and we have been promised a formal response to the points we have raised about improving life for students in the UK.<br /><div>We now have a website, which means that hopefully people will start to know who we are! The website, with information about who we are and what we do, and also with a link to the report, can be found <a href="http://www.dius.gov.uk/policy/nsf/">here</a>. </div>Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-69596038417121335192008-10-21T15:58:00.000+00:002008-10-21T16:06:13.109+00:00Muliebrity and other pertinent wordsSome oppugnant people at Collins Dictionaries have decided to remove some little-known words from the dictionary - presumably to make more room for text speak, celebrity names and other passing fads. Now, I know that some of these words aren't exactly in common parlance - but why not? I can think of many uses for muliebrity - the condition of being a woman (in fact, that's going into my PhD thesis), and fubsy, griseous and olid are words that nicely describe how I feel about some people. I'm all for the development of the language - English has amazing flexibility and its ability to encompass other languages and change with the times is one of many things that makes English literature such a joy, but if we lose words, they'll be consigned to footnotes, as obscure as some of Chaucer's words, and that's a pity. Perhaps I should start a campaign to revive Chaucerian English. Failing that - have a look at these words and see if you can use them! You can read more about this <a href="http://entertainment.timesonline.co.uk/tol/arts_and_entertainment/books/article4799560.ece">here</a>.<br />Abstergent Cleansing or scouring<br />Agrestic Rural; rustic; unpolished; uncouth<br />Apodeictic Unquestionably true by virtue of demonstration<br />Caducity Perishableness; senility<br />Caliginosity Dimness; darkness<br />Compossible Possible in coexistence with something else<br />Embrangle To confuse or entangle<br />Exuviate To shed (a skin or similar outer covering)<br />Fatidical Prophetic<br />Fubsy Short and stout; squat<br />Griseous Streaked or mixed with grey; somewhat grey<br />Malison A curse<br />Mansuetude Gentleness or mildness<br />Muliebrity The condition of being a woman<br />Niddering Cowardly<br />Nitid Bright; glistening<br />Olid Foul-smelling<br />Oppugnant Combative, antagonistic or contrary<br />Periapt A charm or amulet<br />Recrement Waste matter; refuse; dross<br />Roborant Tending to fortify or increase strength<br />Skirr A whirring or grating sound, as of the wings of birds in flight<br />Vaticinate To foretell; prophesy<br />Vilipend To treat or regard with contemptSerena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-68121403261912598612008-10-20T18:18:00.001+00:002008-10-20T18:27:29.302+00:00Ancient Landscapes, Pastoral Visions<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWY3FNlmDBweokrflPSgUltLwP7SM0LAVd9j0VmVlj2ZqKECKiA-yRsgtoCYnby6oVsIWrdqLFcpiSQ_4HT_g9C_r0FMdolzZvex4ZdV3Q6AbzAe-PRhPHY4lwLTWWhJ3wtDuiP8Tm0R4/s1600-h/palmer.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259304314525391906" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWY3FNlmDBweokrflPSgUltLwP7SM0LAVd9j0VmVlj2ZqKECKiA-yRsgtoCYnby6oVsIWrdqLFcpiSQ_4HT_g9C_r0FMdolzZvex4ZdV3Q6AbzAe-PRhPHY4lwLTWWhJ3wtDuiP8Tm0R4/s200/palmer.jpg" border="0" /></a>This exhibition, at <a href="http://www.falmouthartgallery.com/Seasonal%20Exhibitions/Seasonal%202008/ancientlandscape.html">Falmouth Art Gallery</a>, was curated by Anne Anderson, whose work on the Brotherhood of Ruralists has recently caught my attention. This exhibition features Samuel Palmer, who in the 1820s turned his back on London and the urban scene to consider the countryside instead, surrounded by ‘The Ancients’, likeminded painters with a "back to nature" ethic. As the exhibition blurb points out, in the 1920s the painter Graham Sutherland did something similar, and in 1975 the Brotherhood of Ruralists (a name with a self-conscious echo of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood) did something similar, retiring to Bodmin to paint, as did the PRB, "truth to nature".<br />This exhibition combines the work of all of these painters, together with some wonderful Blake etchings. Indeed, Sutherland’s "Pastoral" (1930) is an etching which is remarkably resonant of Blake, in which the trees appear as if they could at any moment reincarnate themselves as <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh84a3x9bl3TdbDI-KGsJ8PinDet8xcZVZSQYWes3BdDsJAXwZBZ2Mz9h5fJcm2Gz5eVasmBcX0h5qf1_6LrcC-ts6yJKqs5f8DyEaoIoGDxZyuU1r7BMF2Zc8EWMfkY7ydMPQpW6kW0So/s1600-h/11552w_n05139_sutherland_greentreeform.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259303741200052530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh84a3x9bl3TdbDI-KGsJ8PinDet8xcZVZSQYWes3BdDsJAXwZBZ2Mz9h5fJcm2Gz5eVasmBcX0h5qf1_6LrcC-ts6yJKqs5f8DyEaoIoGDxZyuU1r7BMF2Zc8EWMfkY7ydMPQpW6kW0So/s200/11552w_n05139_sutherland_greentreeform.jpg" border="0" /></a>monsters – the Gothic menace of nature is all around in this exhibition, whether more obviously, such as in Sutherland’s "Green Tree Form" (1940), left, where the tree seems to have an animal life, or hidden in the pastel fantasy of Graham Ovenden’s "Spring Morning, Wiltshire" (1984).<br />I was particularly taken with Robin Tanner’s "Christmas 1929", a wintry village scene which manages to be both homely, familiar and comforting, and sinister, as though menace lurks in the rural hamlet. Indeed, there is a fairytale aspect to many of these paintings and drawings – perhaps when people concentrate on nature to such an extent, it becomes something quite other than what we first think it is. And the idea that nature is pastoral, calm, and even our right to appreciate, is one of town-dwellers, I suspect – "Nature red in tooth and claw" is much more the real thing.<br />Sir Peter Blake, acolyte of the Ruralists, only features once, with a print entitled "Faery", which is simply a long-haired, naked girl in a field, but again there is something unsettling about this child apparently at one with nature – something in her eyes or stance, perhaps.<br />The common thread here is the engagement with the rural landscape, but it is a very mixed collection: many of the exhibits are very much of their time, displaying contemporary influences, and while some have a photographic precision (such as most of Graham Ovenden’s works), others seem largely representative (Paul Nash’s "Druid Landscape", for example), and others more impressionistic. But there is much here to admire, and much to think about.Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-53297288917743019612008-10-20T18:08:00.001+00:002008-10-20T18:17:53.151+00:00The Magic of a Line<a href="http://www.penleehouse.org.uk/">The Magic of a Line: Drawings and prints from the Newlyn School artists, Penlee Gallery, Penzance</a><br />After visiting the Laura Knight exhibition in Nottingham earlier this year, I’ve been looking forward to this – and it didn’t disappoint. The title of the exhibition is taken from the title of Laura Knight’s autobiography, and nicely suits the works included. Incidentally, this exhibition is part of the Campaign for Drawing’s annual "Big Draw", to encourage everyone to pick up a pencil, and there was paper and pencils all around the exhibition for anyone who felt so inclined.<br />Many of the drawings in the early part of the exhibition were by the Birmingham-born Walter Langley, whose Newlyn School drawings display wonderful local flavour and attention to character. "Study for a Daydream" (1884), a portrait of a distracted young girl, had perfect, dreamy eyes, ignoring the viewer. The grainy effects of his lines are put to good use in images of local scenes, and characters such as elderly, weatherbeaten fishermen, whose relationship with the sea is etched in every line of their faces. Langley was clearly particularly interested in the local habitat, exploring the domestic side-effects of the local fishing trade such as wives left at home as their husbands were on the sea, widows and children portrayed inside the bare cottages. The tragedy of life in the area is particularly well-depicted in "Among the Missing", where a woman, supported by an older woman, reads her husband’s name on the list of the dead. Other pictures such as "Alone" show the desolation after the death of a husband, while "Widowed" shows the young widow cared for by her mother.<br />The sea provides metaphors for other aspects of life, particularly death. In William Holt Yates Titcomb’s "Piloting her Home", 1893, an old woman lies in bed, awaiting death with a radiance of divine love and peace on her face, while those around her raise their hands to God. Similarly, Langley’s Study for "The Seas are Quiet" shows an elderly lady lying on pillows, smiling, with the turbulence of her life past.<br />One of my favourite pictures here was Stanhope Alexander Forbes’s "The Cello Player" – one can almost hear the sonorous music in this dark and thoughtful study. I found this drawing to be more like his wife’s than many of his are: Elizabeth Adela Forbes’s drawings of "The Bakehouse" and "The Cornish Pasty" depict dark interiors, with only the figure in action lit for the viewer, suggested a theatricality in the ‘staging’ of the drawing. I’d not seen her illustrations for King Arthur’s Wood<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV002VmytOtvHayr2G98Oblm9NdNqX3yCj0YhXtbv49BjlURLT7Pcxpo17oBA6NKT2gciSvRcQSjdYyVklrgWQCoQJgOAVOQQOIBNNfuD4N9vUd95gbgmybMbZ3B3vLwG8KCediBi2xE0/s1600-h/12897w_11_n01509.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259301054336232978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV002VmytOtvHayr2G98Oblm9NdNqX3yCj0YhXtbv49BjlURLT7Pcxpo17oBA6NKT2gciSvRcQSjdYyVklrgWQCoQJgOAVOQQOIBNNfuD4N9vUd95gbgmybMbZ3B3vLwG8KCediBi2xE0/s200/12897w_11_n01509.jpg" border="0" /></a> (1904) before, but was struck by their delightful medievalism – the wonderful texture of her other drawings is here used to evoke myth and enchantment. I was also interested in Thomas Cooper Gotch’s Pre-Raphaelite-esque cartoons for "A Mother Enthroned", in which a mother of many daughters is clearly paralleled to the Virgin Mary. (see painting, left)<br />Harold Knight didn’t get much of a look-in here, with just a few portraits of almost photographic detail; but beside those of his wife Dame Laura they seem to lack conviction, while her portraits of young women – "Seated Girl Reading", 1892, "Self Portrait", etc, have so much life, feeling and movement even in repose. Knight seems to have a gift, in her portraits, for convincing the viewer of the character of the sitter with just a few lines. I was caught by "Madonna", 1923 – very much of its time, this seems to be an early echo of the later theatrical works by Knight, despite the beatific expression on the Madonna’s face. Few of the works here are theatrical, though there is a wonderful sketch of "George Bernard Shaw Posing for his Bust", but there are some amazing leaves from her sketchbook, which give an excellent insight into the clean lines she uses for movement and grace in the dancers she later painted – especially the ballerinas’ arms, so hard to capture correctly. I also rather liked "Country Girls" (1926) – especially appealing, I think: three girls seated together, side on; one looks anxiously – or is it slyly? – at the viewer, while the other two gaze unconcernedly into the distance. It’s stylised and of the period, yet still seems so natural.<br />Somehow I find going to an exhibition of drawings a very different experience to one with paintings – less colour, less large, dramatic paintings, more shadows and darkly intense, small pictures. And there are some perfect gems here.Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-7889725992710660352008-10-20T18:04:00.000+00:002008-10-20T18:07:46.882+00:00How Mumbo-Jumbo Conquered the World<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk4M-vv62J3BDy7B6L62KJqaK22J_veKPmgtUxUzPwvHdXwJREof9WFcNOek9jqrPdnv1ItGCVEamaVIQf2wZU1-RFZxjqdnmu3N2rf2QcuPNMttDEpqMmJk2AiSmY8wBgym23NiynYfE/s1600-h/0007140975_01_LZZZZZZZ.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259299247366867538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk4M-vv62J3BDy7B6L62KJqaK22J_veKPmgtUxUzPwvHdXwJREof9WFcNOek9jqrPdnv1ItGCVEamaVIQf2wZU1-RFZxjqdnmu3N2rf2QcuPNMttDEpqMmJk2AiSmY8wBgym23NiynYfE/s200/0007140975_01_LZZZZZZZ.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div>This book was top of my pile of holiday reading (well, after a biography so appallingly written I gave up after two chapters). It’s not the book I’d thought it might be, and is all the better for it. Don’t be fooled by the cheery yellow cover and Jeremy Paxman’s comment of "Hilarious" – it’s not a cheery book, and the laughs it provokes are tinged with irony. But make no mistake – it’s well worth reading. I’m not a Guardian reader so am not particularly familiar with Wheen’s writing, but will look out for him in the future. In this book, which is a kind of extended essay on what’s wrong with the world, he is concise, convincing, entertaining. He opens with Enlightenment thinking – how it changed the world for the better, and why it’s still relevant today. Further, he adds that now, "Even intellectuals who respect Enlightenment values often seem reluctant to defend them publicly, fearful of being identified as ‘liberal imperialists’." The book then races through the kind of "mumbo-jumbo" which has swamped us, from the "voodoo economics" of the 1980s, with Reagan and Thatcher bearing the brunt of his venom, through the greed which precipitated the Wall Street crash in the 1980s, to the fascinatingly repellent antidotes to the world this created. (For example, the self-help style books which grew out of and alongside management-speak: from Deepak Chopra’s nauseating Ageless Body Timeless Mind, Covey’s The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People to the incredibly-titled God wants you to be Rich and Elizabeth I: CEO.) As you can imagine, Wheen is merciless in his assessment of such matters.<br />Another area in which Wheen excels is demolishing the jargon of post-modernism: he lampoons the impenetrable prose of many deconstructionists, and points out that the newly-subjective nature of reality permits people to question the notion of "facts" – as in, the Holocaust is no longer a "fact", and can be dismissed much more easily than before by social historians. He also – rightly – takes issue with Luce Irigary’s statement that E=MC2 is a "sexed equation" – something I have wondered about myself…That the deconstructionists are quick to take on sciences about which they know little is not only foolhardy but dangerous, he argues, and hardly advances the world’s knowledge and understanding.<br />Wheen proceeds to consider the amazing number of alien abductions (suggesting that perhaps it suits the powers-that-be for people to be so gullible, since it distracts them from questioning other, even more, sinister machinations that go on in the world), pours scorn on the Mayan re-birthing ritual enjoyed by the Blairs, and various other random types of spirituality adopted by people clearly searching for something, however unlikely it may be. (I was surprised to find no mention of Scientology here).<br />This leads into sentimentality, which is increasing in public life, particularly in America but was manifested in Britain when Princess Diana died: I thought Wheen was quite restrained here. American foreign policy, British politics, irrational public panics, dotcom mania – it’s all here, and demolished. I suspect that the kind of people who will read this book are the kind of people who weren’t terribly susceptible to mumbo-jumbo anyway, more’s the pity – but I hope it opens a few people’s eyes. As Wheen said at the start of the book, "the sleep of reason brings forth monsters, and the past two decades have produced monsters galore". At least this book has brought some of the monsters out of the depths where they lurked and into the public arena.</div>Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-39642154587626947092008-10-03T20:29:00.000+00:002008-10-03T20:41:48.897+00:00Any Questions?I've just returned from attending the live broadcast of Any Questions? from the Birmingham Conservatoire, as part of <a href="http://www.birminghambookfestival.org/">Birmingham Book Festival</a>. Politics can be so much fun! The panellists were Liam Byrne (newly promoted Minister for the Cabinet Office), Alan Duncan (Shadow secretary of State for Business, Enterprise and Regulatory Reform, David Edgar (playwright and President of the Writers' Guild) and Julia Goldsworthy (Lib Dem speaker on Communities and local government). The opening questions were, unsurprisingly, about banking reforms and regulations, in which as might be expected Liam Byrne supported the Labour line ("we will do whatever it takes to ensure people don't lose out", to which Dimbleby replied, "What does that mean?" Byrne: "Well, we will do whatever it takes". Dimbleby: "What <em>is</em> it likely to take?" And so on. Amusing.) A nicely phrased question asked if the Prince of Darkness is the light at the end of the tunnel for the Labour party, referring to the apophrades (sorry, too much lit crit - return from the dead) of Mandelson - the audience was asked to vote on this, and it doesn't seem a popular move! David Edgar had some excellent answers, and also provided a nice literary touch, referencing Milton and Shakespeare among others - appropriate for the book festival. And the final question of the evening asked the panellists if a book has ever changed their lives. Alan Duncan suggested his own book changed his life by nearly getting him the sack, but went on to say that writers who concentrate on freedoms, moral liberty etc, such as John Stuart Mill, have greatly influenced his thinking. David Edgar went for Shakespeare's history plays, Liam Byrne for Graham Greene's <em>Travels with my Aunt</em>, and Julia Goldsworthy - rather worthily - went for the biography of Penhaligon, a Truro MP, which persuaded her to begin her own political career.<br />You can listen to Any Questions? online <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/news/anyquestions.shtml">here</a>. Everyone should listen to it - it's not just informative, it's also hilarious!Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-87471461876904366442008-09-29T11:35:00.002+00:002008-09-30T10:49:47.705+00:00Wuthering Heights<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5aEN6wrfoW0A0MhwaQKf56yApt8bFw5iuGS8POL1bYx8x7hrZvs3CxkexZoJW09ofroK2dL_TK0bcrGPHxkh7s1fy89MhBtxmjX_GieQMcJEmES3nQcro2pA8h2zbEr-tHEh8K0pgPg8/s1600-h/wuthering-heights.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251763695607452578" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5aEN6wrfoW0A0MhwaQKf56yApt8bFw5iuGS8POL1bYx8x7hrZvs3CxkexZoJW09ofroK2dL_TK0bcrGPHxkh7s1fy89MhBtxmjX_GieQMcJEmES3nQcro2pA8h2zbEr-tHEh8K0pgPg8/s200/wuthering-heights.jpg" border="0" /></a>Last night I saw <a href="http://www.birmingham-rep.co.uk/event/wuthering-heights">Wuthering Heights at Birmingham Rep </a>. Adapted by April de Angelis, it demonstrated the hallmarks of her innovation and style. I must confess I had been rather dubious beforehand; the translation of an epic book like <em>Wuthering Heights</em> into a stage play is no small task, and one that's difficult to do well, especially given the audience expectations that are likely to go with it! To reduce <em>Wuthering Heights, </em>a substantial novel, to a 2 hour 20 minutes play is no mean feat, and with such a complicated plot as well it does mean that it's rather the bare bones of the plot, but given the difficulties it was well done, and the set was well-adapted for the scene changes. The moors are ever present, projected in the background, which worked very well, bringing the wildness of the scenery into the houses.<br /><div>Susannah York as Nelly Dean absolutely stole the show, as far as I'm concerned - as both narrator of the tale, and participant in events, she really comes to the fore in this production. Amanda Ryan was a good Cathy, though - she certainly looked the part, and had the right mixture of passion, <em>joie de vivre</em> and despair, playing her deathbed scenes in a manner reminiscent of Ophelia (an appropriate comparison on several levels, I think). I was a little dubious about Anthony Byrne as Heathcliff, though - of course, so much is invested in the part by those who know the book, but somehow he seemed more a bit cross than deep and angry, and his maltreatment of Isabella Linton just seemed a little unconvincing - as though he has a good heart, really. </div><div>Given that Birmingham has been taken over by the Conservative party conference, I was disappointed not to see David Cameron there, checking out the true nature of our present Prime Minister...How <em>could</em> Gordon Brown have compared himself to Heathcliff? I assume he hasn't read the book, and thinks it means he is a deep man of few words...not an uneducated, wife-beating, sadistic, misanthropic man.</div>Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-59224807230057116702008-09-29T11:27:00.000+00:002008-09-29T11:34:58.206+00:00Gwen John at the Barber Institute<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipHc4mU6ThEo9g0zkykAad6_LblN_L4wlbX5CJcfJAQgMWviRCXKF6ncHx2iYjThKzEGLWbJ2TCSvGtWCUvCs5hUGtLU80k3PUemuq4G7Q6czrgnn_xqkkjbpHa7QiP4UFO7dj89V7_9w/s1600-h/medjohn.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251403725366716226" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipHc4mU6ThEo9g0zkykAad6_LblN_L4wlbX5CJcfJAQgMWviRCXKF6ncHx2iYjThKzEGLWbJ2TCSvGtWCUvCs5hUGtLU80k3PUemuq4G7Q6czrgnn_xqkkjbpHa7QiP4UFO7dj89V7_9w/s200/medjohn.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div>Last weekend I went to see <em>Reunited: Gwen John, Mere Poussepin and the Catholic Church</em> at the Barber Institute of Fine Arts, University of Birmingham, and was surprised and pleased to find a different John to the one I had enjoyed at the Tate’s John retrospective a few years ago. The exhibition blurb explains the background to these portraits:<br />"Gwen John’s move to Meudon in France in 1911 marked the beginning of fundamental changes for the artist, in both personal and artistic terms. In about 1913, John was received into the Roman Catholic Church, and, in that year, was commissioned by the nuns in the town’s convent to create a portrait of their seventeenth-century founder, Mère Poussepin. This first commission developed into requests for five more versions — one for each room of the convent. In this exhibition, the Barber’s own version of the portrait—one of the most popular paintings in the collection — is reunited with other versions of the picture. These are complemented by a series of drawings showing women, orphans and schoolgirls in church, as well as sketches of nuns, priests and a cardinal — and even the Pope himself."<br />John was given a prayer card with a portrait of Mere Poussepin, from which to paint the portraits. This she did painstakingly over 16 reworked versions, changing aspects of it along the way whilst retaining the "pure perfection" of the holy woman’s face. The earlier ones depict Mere Poussepin looking severe, or even slightly smug, sitting at a table with a book; the later ones are simplified (such as the one shown here), having done away with the props and with the beatific face of the nun radiating her divine beliefs. </div><div>The exhibition demonstrates John's own convictions and her reverence for the spiritual life which she discovered after turning to Catholicism following the end of her relationship with Rodin. The paintings carried out in the French convent demonstrate a completely human face of the contemplative, devotional life which is spiritually uplifting. This little exhibition gives a totally different insight into John's work than any I had had before, though I am not sure I endorse the comment of Charles Darwent in the <em>Telegraph</em>, who called these paintings "Austen for the eyes" - this is something far more reverential and divine - perhaps a visualised Christina Rossetti...</div><div>There is a small "<a href="http://www.barber.org.uk/gwenjohn/john1.html">virtual exhibition</a>" on the Barber's website if you want to see more.</div>Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-83099143617499807062008-09-28T19:40:00.000+00:002008-09-28T20:02:45.057+00:00DIUS Expo 08<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOFeX8_ticCOKhZPutRAZ1CoOKMKFdYmrrRAZ1sa0go10OhUcoKuwgpkFDSlRqiMvdiF_rZBrQRkfuD-Pek-ULek6Wn2-FovLEQap4Azv06OtvdZgm6D_aM0a_abxPG1MuRpTe-nFZlkM/s1600-h/MCAXXK304CA1DW31YCALWZXE8CAK3OQI8CA6E1EFKCAFM8VWXCA1OQEBICAL4I693CAZ81KTTCAG0GD2TCASDS1RQCA8BAHFZCAPJFWPBCA5MZNM0CAHCO1ASCA863L3PCAQ9KONNCAQ3LK04.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251160211414544002" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOFeX8_ticCOKhZPutRAZ1CoOKMKFdYmrrRAZ1sa0go10OhUcoKuwgpkFDSlRqiMvdiF_rZBrQRkfuD-Pek-ULek6Wn2-FovLEQap4Azv06OtvdZgm6D_aM0a_abxPG1MuRpTe-nFZlkM/s200/MCAXXK304CA1DW31YCALWZXE8CAK3OQI8CA6E1EFKCAFM8VWXCA1OQEBICAL4I693CAZ81KTTCAG0GD2TCASDS1RQCA8BAHFZCAPJFWPBCA5MZNM0CAHCO1ASCA863L3PCAQ9KONNCAQ3LK04.jpg" border="0" /></a>Anyway, after my trip to Russia it's back to work and reality. I was pleased to be invited to attend the Department for Innovation, Universities and Skills Expo 08: One Year On, to celebrate DIUS's anniversary, as a new department, and to have the opportunity to consider what has been done in that year. The first workshop I attended was from Research Councils UK, talking about "Unlocking the Talents of UK Researchers". Obviously, as a (largely unfunded) researcher myself, this was something I was particularly interested to hear about. The speaker gave some background, stating that in terms of bibliometric data, the UK's researchers are second in ranking only the the US, and are the most productive in a G8 country. Moreover, we're international, apparently - nearly half of postgrads and 1 in 7 academics are from overseas.<br />The research councils' missions are to support research excellence (good!) However, as the speaker admitted, although the seven research councils cover all possible areas of research, there is still an emphasis on STEM subjects (science, engineering, technology and mathematics). Research, it seems, still equals science. All seven councils have common missions (which I believe can be found on the <a href="http://www.rcuk.ac.uk/default.htm">RCUK website</a>, if you care!)<br />RCUK have three particular ways of helping researchers: Providing skills/skilled people; stimulating ideas, and providing opportunities. The skills aspect is largely about training, it seems, and the skills needed by researchers include: research techniques, entreprenerial skills, public engagement, management, personal effectiveness, communication skills and networking. Fair enough - mostly. However, I am a little more dubious about aligning research with public policy - yes, to a certain extent that helps to put the universities on the agenda and ensures that much-needed research is being done. But that must not be at the cost of "blue skies" research, in any discipline. (Kind of related to this, an <a href="http://www.timeshighereducation.co.uk/story.asp?sectioncode=26&storycode=403694&c=2">interesting article in the Times Higher </a>talks about universities' role in working with innovation). There are six programmes running involving three or more research councils, and they are: Living with environmental change; Energy; Ageing: Lifelong health and wellbeing; Global Uncertainties: security for all in a changing world; Digital Economy; Nanotechnology through engineering to application. All worthy, but you know, I don't see much room for Victorian poetry, heritage, culture etc there.<br />In fact, I was at the Expo as part of a panel, representing the National Student Forum - and if you don't know what that is, hopefully you will do soon as we are about to release a report. We're 16 students from across the UK, working with DIUS to represent the student voice, and, building on reports from Student Juries across the country, help the government tackle issues such as finance, teaching standards, employability, accomodation, information and support, etc. We had a session in the afternoon with Baroness Morgan, Minister for Students, who has been immensely supportive of us, and it was great to see that so many of the delegates are genuinely interested in helping to make the lives of students better.Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-13485407602930938792008-09-28T18:51:00.002+00:002008-09-29T08:32:06.532+00:00The Pushkin Museum of Art, Moscow<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTwBvj10rxvyPV3tUNlBDjMdlRoDaISPpgOlt-0dh1GTzLse2OGBvlF9X1Hx1pVZXHtelXRIn6xkyNRfYw_LlBbdPozSmtz3kaEwqm1QPLOIJvzBDW-jU_357U8SgGjqTNNwsJW3iusVU/s1600-h/museo_thyssen_f_CTB_1999_103.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251154695204876370" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTwBvj10rxvyPV3tUNlBDjMdlRoDaISPpgOlt-0dh1GTzLse2OGBvlF9X1Hx1pVZXHtelXRIn6xkyNRfYw_LlBbdPozSmtz3kaEwqm1QPLOIJvzBDW-jU_357U8SgGjqTNNwsJW3iusVU/s200/museo_thyssen_f_CTB_1999_103.jpg" border="0" /></a>The Pushkin Museum is devoted to European Fine Arts, and is the most amazing place, containing many paintings which are familiar to me but I had assumed they were in the Louvre, or somewhere in the UK. Paying particular attention to the nineteenth century (of course!), I managed to get lost here, but it was worth it!<br /><div><div><div><div>Goya, Monet, Manet, Corot, Whistler, Seurrat, Van Gogh, Cezanne - so many big names here, but the gallery proved a useful reminder that it's not the names but the sheer amazingness of seeing the paintings, in the flesh (so to speak) that is important. For example, Corot's <em>Diana Bathing</em> is so sculptural, so cold and yet lifelike, erotic and shadowy, and it's hard to get a sense of that in a reproduction (see right). It should be a cliche, but<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN8eXmTHktuFO3S5nrO8CitqG5kP5SqyABhr4-8_2m3H6NPjCBDapIBHXcrqrel-Ezl-E21B8U8xvByvaTIjZR3RhPSzPMoQc5jMDjCVZwMD1uTXho85EPvNpMP1GxOaLc1ce36pTgU1M/s1600-h/78182.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251149217893224322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN8eXmTHktuFO3S5nrO8CitqG5kP5SqyABhr4-8_2m3H6NPjCBDapIBHXcrqrel-Ezl-E21B8U8xvByvaTIjZR3RhPSzPMoQc5jMDjCVZwMD1uTXho85EPvNpMP1GxOaLc1ce36pTgU1M/s200/78182.jpg" border="0" /></a> somehow it isn't.</div><div>It amused me somewhat to see Alma Tadema's <em>Queen Fredegonda at the deathbed of Bishop Praesextatus</em>, so English, quasi-Pre-Raphaelite, and somehow unexpected! I was also pleased to see Toulouse-Lautrec's <em>Yvette Gilbert singing "Linger Longer Loo"</em> (1894) (left) - it should be a caricature, almost silly, but it isn't - such expression, it appeals to me. Oh, and so many Degas' - ballet dancers, nudes - always less chocolate-box and more moving in the flesh, especially <em>Dancer posing for a photographer</em> - an interesting set-up. Of course, there were many artists I hadn't heard of, such as Jean-Louis Forain, whose 1880 painting <em>Leaving the Masquerade Ball at the Grand Opera</em> particularly interested me - it should be just a society picture, but seemed much more than<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC9qrHwQjm_e4hnw8SXJdbuUUGk_qmJ5LZSz8FvMhQpJauJ3KyEKtd_oG5UzPeQdd1q3OxmEWFVAawbXZVbleChMPJ-K9NOXVRS39hU_Y-CvYIPlC0cjATi_SjvTIDs2b7s_DmlplGKVc/s1600-h/50094073.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251153755816257874" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC9qrHwQjm_e4hnw8SXJdbuUUGk_qmJ5LZSz8FvMhQpJauJ3KyEKtd_oG5UzPeQdd1q3OxmEWFVAawbXZVbleChMPJ-K9NOXVRS39hU_Y-CvYIPlC0cjATi_SjvTIDs2b7s_DmlplGKVc/s200/50094073.jpg" border="0" /></a> that, with a mysterious twist in that the women's faces were obscured, not by masks.</div><div>Other highlights were Sisley, who manages to make French landscapes look so English (to my Anglicised eyes!), and Monet's <em>White Water Lilies</em>, so verdant and much less clicheed than I usually think of Monet. Also, while I'm not usually than keen on Renoir, <em>Girls in Black</em> (1880) is contemplative, quiet, while his 1876 <em>Nude</em> (right) seems to me a triumph of female sexuality over the male viewer (discuss!) Van Gogh, always so exuberant and somehow surprising, managed to surprise me again - <em>Red Vineyard</em> is great but <em>The Sea at Saintes-Maries</em> (1888) I love - such thick paint, so reminiscent of the movement of the sea. Another delight was Pierre Puvis de Chavannes <em>The Companion</em> (1887), which seemed almost medieval in style, perhaps reminiscent of Burne Jones's medievalism, while the male presence seems to contain a threatening sexuality despite the anodyne title of the painting. I hadn't seen before, but liked, Buffet's drawings of Notre Dame de Paris, which had an appealing symmetry, seeming to reference th draughtsmanship of an earlier age, reducing perfect architecture to a few lines without losing their beauty.</div><div>The Fauvist painter Albert Marquet was someone I hadn't come across before (more info <a href="http://www.artcyclopedia.com/artists/marquet_albert.html">here</a>). His industrial cityscapes have an amazing beauty all there own - it's very much about "the painter's eye" here - and he paints water - from sea to canal - amazingly, with a visible, believable thick<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT9Zu91N2OUOPCWb-XReA3Lf3eAYVjkHxTANpgwuhJ-3013D2hvT3zjLegTiWAr8aLN8gbFWsMorHlW1w3sj5v2BAtLFoFc9_2clzpIebzSJmeFSm8-ZPio1sIWnYNtYeluM19GWLiVxk/s1600-h/pink_studio.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251158776984976754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT9Zu91N2OUOPCWb-XReA3Lf3eAYVjkHxTANpgwuhJ-3013D2hvT3zjLegTiWAr8aLN8gbFWsMorHlW1w3sj5v2BAtLFoFc9_2clzpIebzSJmeFSm8-ZPio1sIWnYNtYeluM19GWLiVxk/s200/pink_studio.jpg" border="0" /></a>ness.</div><div>The highlight of the museum, though, must be the Matisses. There's a whole room of them, wonderfully vivid still lifes, which test one's perception of perspective. I still can't work out why I find them so visually satisfying, but I do. The ones here were <em>Corner of an Artist's Studio</em> (1912), <em>The Pink Studio</em> (1911) (left), <em>Nasturtiums, La Danse II </em>(both 1912), <em>Goldish</em> (1911) and <em>Arums, Iris and Mimosa</em> (1912) - a blaze of colour and movement. It's worth going to Moscow just for these. </div></div></div></div>Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-80626287379906144482008-09-28T18:17:00.001+00:002008-09-28T18:50:33.205+00:00The Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP0y01tKvV04EFFErAr6f01yE2XmW_MBib_W8hZ4l6iHsc_S4V8iBVBSiOjIdDeOezcjIFu5Aes9caKaJwvzZkcWTeOd_HkaX6nAaRsGmbarbGI36bxgVAnIn0AsQeSyVPSx-7n8OlwSw/s1600-h/kiprensky-pushkin.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251144392147762114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP0y01tKvV04EFFErAr6f01yE2XmW_MBib_W8hZ4l6iHsc_S4V8iBVBSiOjIdDeOezcjIFu5Aes9caKaJwvzZkcWTeOd_HkaX6nAaRsGmbarbGI36bxgVAnIn0AsQeSyVPSx-7n8OlwSw/s200/kiprensky-pushkin.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div>I know virtually nothing about Russian art – well, I know a bit more now. We had amazingly informative guides in Russia, who seem to be as knowledgeable about art criticism and history as they are about restaurants, palaces and everything else. The Old Tretyakov gallery gives a taste of Russian art up to the nineteenth century, and there’s too much there for me to do more that give a synopsis. This is a very shortened version of my notes!<br />The first painting I saw was a portrait of Pushkin by Orev Kiprensky, which immediately reminded me of Byron (the hair and swathed tartan) – it turns out that indeed this was Pushkin’s homage to Byron and Burns, who were his heroes (Byron I can understand; not so sure about Burns). I must explore the Pushkin-Byron connection – <em>Onegin</em> and <em>Don Juan</em>, anyone? In fact this is the only portrait for which Pushkin ever sat; other images were taken from memory or other pictures. Pushkin liked it so much he wrote a poem about it.<br />I was interested to hear about a serf, Argunov, who painted well, and thus was allowed by the family to have lessons and learn to paint professionally. After painting a remarkable portrait of the family – surprisingly sympathetically, I thought – Argunov was freed from serfdom and permitted to establish a career as an artist. This story, it seems, was repeated throughout history; many serfs were cruelly treated and died as a result of malnutrition and overwork, but some were also trained in various arts, and given their freedom as a tribute to their skill.<br />One of the central pieces in the gallery was Ivanov’s <em>The Appearance of Christ before People</em>. This is a huge painting, which took ten years to paint (1837-1857) in Italy. In its realist detail it’s both fascinating and slightly alarming! – Ivanov felt that he wanted to paint the m<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhorTVONtIKlOSdVcrPl1dZ5ioRPLzuzZNV7sXRM7FsWcGI-rGj7YzNMepTaMHIC-94FfabmGts18R9NWPCqrGzyVKvXSxqDjhqY87oy9POZIZdcTrGTNDE6n52Ij9XCzmaEuWU1GrlhKY/s1600-h/Alexander_ivanov_-_appearance_of_christ_to_the_people_668.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251144506136917730" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhorTVONtIKlOSdVcrPl1dZ5ioRPLzuzZNV7sXRM7FsWcGI-rGj7YzNMepTaMHIC-94FfabmGts18R9NWPCqrGzyVKvXSxqDjhqY87oy9POZIZdcTrGTNDE6n52Ij9XCzmaEuWU1GrlhKY/s200/Alexander_ivanov_-_appearance_of_christ_to_the_people_668.jpg" border="0" /></a>ost important event that had ever happened, and chose the appearance of Christ to ordinary people, taking in their responses, which range from overjoyed to sentimental to what looks like sceptical. In the foreground a man is sorting out clothes, perhaps foreshadowing the soldiers dicing for Christ’s clothes after the Crucifixion. In fact, that man is a self-portrait by the artist. John the Baptist also features, carrying a cross. It’s the kind of painting you can look at dozens of times and still see different things.<br />A painting which particularly appealed to me was Zelentsov’s <em>Indoors Drawing Room</em>, which I can’t find an image of but showed a typically Russian interior, reminding me that though there are some obvious parallels with European art of the same time, Russia was – and is – a very different place, and therein perhaps lies its attraction for me.<br />Speaking of European parallels, though, there were a surprising number of narrative paintings from the 1840s which are highly reminiscent of paintings frequently used to illustrate the covers of Victorian novels nowadays! The titles tell you all you need to know: <em>The Major’s Proposal, The Fastidious Bride, The French Cavalier, The Young Widow</em>, all by Fedotov, and almost <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQYG2lLrwuh8UyLNewoN2V2ecZXX7HhQdPPnuaHBhNTlm8yozaNU1EGv5A9IObeV2Uvnkq_Ty9KPRoTK3rZKp857GCBAvUpXippieQCs6hGc6h6kalXtBk8gQNbViFLvjI72ApHud64As/s1600-h/perov-dost-compressed.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251144583719953650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQYG2lLrwuh8UyLNewoN2V2ecZXX7HhQdPPnuaHBhNTlm8yozaNU1EGv5A9IObeV2Uvnkq_Ty9KPRoTK3rZKp857GCBAvUpXippieQCs6hGc6h6kalXtBk8gQNbViFLvjI72ApHud64As/s200/perov-dost-compressed.jpg" border="0" /></a>Hogarthian in their sequential depiction of social life. Other paintings, such as <em>Troika</em> (Perov, 1866) are akin to nineteenth-century sentimentalisation of children.<br />I was pleased to see what is apparently the best portrait of Dostoevsky (left), also by Perov. This portrait, so sombre and muted, seems in its interiority to be as much a portrait of the writer’s mind as his face – as are all the best portraits. Actually I was rather taken with Perov’s work – <em>Christ in the Garden at Gethsemane</em> was also an interesting painting.<br />Another artist who appealed to me was Aivazovsky – follow this <a href="http://www.abcgallery.com/A/aivazovsky/aivazovsky.html">link </a>to see more! He painted the Black Sea in all its moods and changes, as well as wonderful almost naïve paintings of St Petersburg showing the five buildings of the Hermitage. Many of these mid-19th century paintings of Russia are amazing - archetypal images such as cityscapes, sledging on the frozen Neva, battles, countrysides. There was a room devoted to war - the futility of it, the pointless loss of life, and in today's political climate this was no less moving than when they were first displayed.</div><div>Finally, we saw many ikons - from the fourteenth century until the seventeenth century, since between those periods they were the only form of artistic expression permitted in Russia. Many of them are immediately identifiable as Russian Orthodox - the colours, the jewels, they might not appeal to everyone, but they are fabulous!</div>Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-89471147926515148332008-09-18T09:42:00.002+00:002008-09-18T10:11:36.358+00:00Tess of the BBCWhile I am happy to applaud the BBC for its high-minded intentions in its production of <em>Tess</em> (Sundays, BBC One), I am instinctively dubious about any production that describes itself as "lavish", a word always over-used in conjunction with costume dramas. Since I haven’t read the book for a while now, I decided to revisit it along with the series, which perhaps isn’t the best idea as it has caused some ranting at the television (and thus disturbing my more down-to-earth husband’s viewing). Really, as these things go, it’s not bad. Gemma Arterton (below) actually does look a bit like Hardy’s description, and even the bucolic excesses of maidens in white dancing in a field largely fits with the novel. Actually, the BBC’s <em>Tess</em> is quite close to the plot of the book, so far; what it hasn’t achiev<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJz9fbo7d1o9RHyrue7XjMisQsIHCoNeYabfKY5_6C0fKB1gH6RKEmhIQcdQc1GnZ9C0F_Uow8P4dUDffTf1CSoxikta4pgzc92D15wckVw_Qv_jfncNWWvpIN7Soil5EEgRENBhb5K3E/s1600-h/article-tess-durbeyfield.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247301416262464754" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJz9fbo7d1o9RHyrue7XjMisQsIHCoNeYabfKY5_6C0fKB1gH6RKEmhIQcdQc1GnZ9C0F_Uow8P4dUDffTf1CSoxikta4pgzc92D15wckVw_Qv_jfncNWWvpIN7Soil5EEgRENBhb5K3E/s200/article-tess-durbeyfield.jpg" border="0" /></a>ed, as the Times reviewer points out, is the "muckiness" – Hardy’s gory scene when the Durbeyfield horse is killed, for example. And what was with the fog during the rape scene? It did cover up things the BBC might prefer not to portray, but I was expecting aliens to emerge from the X-Files mist at any moment.<br />My problem with it, I think, is neatly summed up in an interesting review of <em>Tess</em> in the Times, <a href="http://entertainment.timesonline.co.uk/tol/arts_and_entertainment/tv_and_radio/article4757380.ece">"Fun, but is it Hardy?" </a>The review mentions what critic David Thomson calls "the indecency of the visual", and that seems a brilliant way of putting it; books make good films/TV series, but what they make <em>is</em> films/TV series; the book gets lost no matter how closely they stick to the plot. What they can’t do is genuinely recreate the spirit of the book, and somehow the visualisation loses the nuances and makes it "indecent" – not necessarily in a sexual sense, though sometimes that too, but in a slightly mis-translated way. It’s the old chestnut about "the book is better than the film" – well, nearly always yes, but the film <em>isn’t</em> the book, and serves a different purpose (Sunday evening viewing for the middle-classes, usually). Sadly, some of us (ie those who work with Victorian literature – or me, at least) can’t just be entertained, and just watch crossly as the clunky references to class distinction, gender differences and a bucolic past are swept across the screen for the uncritical viewer. I wish I could just relax and enjoy it.Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-3486754831164006192008-09-18T09:42:00.001+00:002008-09-18T10:03:01.613+00:00From Russia with love...<div><div><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwUZG_Tcz-AZfa4GotdqXBvrs15wq7ZDId5H2bXeP6MHdaCz3raNjb3jrt8dDycTLBKCD6djdhEkVYPSq842BWIu7ShH4jiMgYk3fM8Heop1J6PWczAuQ8MPIng-3jNg43TFSmfctbK4M/s1600-h/n729236314_1222251_5445.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247296160855924050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwUZG_Tcz-AZfa4GotdqXBvrs15wq7ZDId5H2bXeP6MHdaCz3raNjb3jrt8dDycTLBKCD6djdhEkVYPSq842BWIu7ShH4jiMgYk3fM8Heop1J6PWczAuQ8MPIng-3jNg43TFSmfctbK4M/s200/n729236314_1222251_5445.jpg" border="0" /></a>I have recently returned from a lovely week in Russia. After visiting St. Petersburg on my honeymoon, I’ve been hoping for another chance to visit, and it didn’t disappoint. We had a few days in Moscow first, which I loved, and was very impressed by Moscow State University (picture right). A friend said that although Petersburg was beautiful, she preferred Moscow because it’s more Russian, and I agree, I think. The city smells of fuel and fried potatoes; it was unfeasibly warm when we arrived, and the traffic is appalling, but it’s just such an amazing city, and has an indefinable buzz about it – much as I find in London. We did the usual tourist stuff –<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkvqx4W1QeKMKReNp8LjT6xEYRFIjE4fMDN4XqPHzzRk-D9UOVWpZYpsQL1niDvefPmuBV57e3-XeUCjdSz0LeONAPtsV4veAPpQvyEKTFF8DvpWqmQ2prsfdn1D09mKE1A5TnDWfZzAM/s1600-h/n729236314_1222260_1013.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247297471721395890" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkvqx4W1QeKMKReNp8LjT6xEYRFIjE4fMDN4XqPHzzRk-D9UOVWpZYpsQL1niDvefPmuBV57e3-XeUCjdSz0LeONAPtsV4veAPpQvyEKTFF8DvpWqmQ2prsfdn1D09mKE1A5TnDWfZzAM/s200/n729236314_1222260_1013.jpg" border="0" /></a> the Kremlin (see photo left), the Tretyakov gallery of Russian art (which I’ll post seperately), the Novodevichiy convent, Red Square etc. I think the convent was one of my favourite places, actually: such peace in the heart of the city (yes, a cliché, I know, but it’s true) and the architecture and colours of the Russian Orthodox church, with the gilding, the icons, the faint smell of incense – to me it seems so utterly foreign and exotic, and very appealing. The Cathedral of Christ the Saviour is particularly beautiful, brilliantly-gilded and adorned with ikons inside, and is apparently where Medvedev attends services, yet there were young women in headscarves standing in front of the ikons in genuine devotion, ignoring the tourists. <br />The Russians certainly revere their artists and writers, which the cemetery next to the convent displays; there are extravagent monuments to Russian writers, artists, actors, dancers (see grave of Galina Ulanova, right), as well as politicians, surgeons and scientists. The reverence for Pushkin is also striking, and admirable – it seems less aimed at tourists than, say "Shakespeare’s Stratford" and "Jane Austen’s Hampshire", as <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_JEYkEoSMIvpL2AiAjR_kr7mGUUn6iTKctHdMT_eIhCr3vXxBYt83keF_lrVbJZ-raPCkjbK8YEC1lNzqBFpG6SUto33U2DmiMxh0bOIihmdLD6ft_6a65GMsfqEwR5zuzqpnmKSDIGU/s1600-h/n729236314_1222257_8757.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247296326742984914" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_JEYkEoSMIvpL2AiAjR_kr7mGUUn6iTKctHdMT_eIhCr3vXxBYt83keF_lrVbJZ-raPCkjbK8YEC1lNzqBFpG6SUto33U2DmiMxh0bOIihmdLD6ft_6a65GMsfqEwR5zuzqpnmKSDIGU/s200/n729236314_1222257_8757.jpg" border="0" /></a>British tourist boards clunkily define them, and more about a deep local respect for their own. I read some of <em>Eugene Onegin</em> whilst travelling, since my knowledge of Pushkin is limited, and it’s incredible – the facility of expression, the sparkling, butterfly nature of the subject matter – and that’s reading it in translation, which I gather is almost impossible since Pushkin’s fluid use of Russian not only forged a new poetic sensibility in the nineteenth century but also made him extremely difficult to translate. I am working on my Russian now with the aim of one day reading himin the original! (On the left is a pic of a statue of Pushkin.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE2xxMjvnOfy_WHLsj8b377F5PVcfLF8a5GkkgKnslpGF3DKWgzfZ6u48hodvXWiYOSfNV-QSf1xboLaUzVfdq-2NC_tScEfcCotxdZ-ZtQrfN_GzsfyHKTqZNXGDUrW5ck8wV5o1uYVk/s1600-h/n729236314_1222328_4289.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247296660261225538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE2xxMjvnOfy_WHLsj8b377F5PVcfLF8a5GkkgKnslpGF3DKWgzfZ6u48hodvXWiYOSfNV-QSf1xboLaUzVfdq-2NC_tScEfcCotxdZ-ZtQrfN_GzsfyHKTqZNXGDUrW5ck8wV5o1uYVk/s200/n729236314_1222328_4289.jpg" border="0" /></a>)<br />St. Petersburg seems (as Jonathan Dimbleby says) to be more Western-facing, somehow superficial city – the facades of the palaces along the Neva seem to be part of the display put on for the tourists. However, I’m reluctant to see the city as only the playground of socialites (despite Onegin’s propensity to do so) because it has had a much more complex history than this; thousands of serfs died during the founding of the city; and more recently, as Leningrad it was besieged by the Nazis during World War II (or the Great Patriotic War, as the Russians term it). Our guide told us a great deal about the damage done to palaces and historic <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4m3VtFrVdLPX96JlTslCVLt4HRb6T6p2RCMQnVKwmPysoWRCfQTzaHzIRRNqL5sehh8qhlR0OUKzoMlyvuymZJzvjXGHSnJx7GTt0bJRVV81q-3Mjy1H-32tIVlERFGzQsvD1OMfxh4/s1600-h/n729236314_1222362_5507.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247297223935644802" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4m3VtFrVdLPX96JlTslCVLt4HRb6T6p2RCMQnVKwmPysoWRCfQTzaHzIRRNqL5sehh8qhlR0OUKzoMlyvuymZJzvjXGHSnJx7GTt0bJRVV81q-3Mjy1H-32tIVlERFGzQsvD1OMfxh4/s200/n729236314_1222362_5507.jpg" border="0" /></a>monuments by the Nazi occupiers as they attempted to close in on the city, and about the starvation and bravery of the citizens ("Some people froze to death but would not burn their libraries", she said; "This is how they looked to the future, and preserved their heritage".) Many palaces, such as Pavluvsk, Catherine’s Palace and even the Peterhof, are still undergoing restoration more than sixty years later. The staff at the palaces took photographs and hid artefacts before the Nazis took over, and from these they are still gradually rebuilding and restoring. Life is, perhaps, cheaper in Russia than in Europe, but heritage is precious, and highly valued. Holding onto the past for the sake of the future is clearly important, and not just for the tourist industry; Russians genuinely feel their history in a way that not even the British do, I think. </div></div></div></div></div>Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-30465208560406811492008-09-03T18:03:00.002+00:002008-09-18T10:25:52.038+00:00Culture and Anarchy?Read this. I agree (mostly): <a href="http://www.timeshighereducation.co.uk/story.asp?sectioncode=26&storycode=403324&c=1">It's the culture, stupid.</a>Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-83949379427540180832008-08-31T13:33:00.000+00:002008-08-31T13:39:32.066+00:00Ford Madox Brown<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwP3jyzszQYBnYW9eLeH2B6s1I-dwEG92lymILn22zI72VxJqQktI2IYk7yDrJCxV-QmsFpV7zF3qNPT5FGOJDwTXhMZpBT0XNY5C_4wMgX-vi9skGib_trP9wigtQuV4LHvRD7LlOUVc/s1600-h/madox2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240674994181142322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwP3jyzszQYBnYW9eLeH2B6s1I-dwEG92lymILn22zI72VxJqQktI2IYk7yDrJCxV-QmsFpV7zF3qNPT5FGOJDwTXhMZpBT0XNY5C_4wMgX-vi9skGib_trP9wigtQuV4LHvRD7LlOUVc/s200/madox2.jpg" border="0" /></a>I've had a busy week - I also went to the opening of <em>Ford Madox Brown: The Unofficial Pre-Raphaelite</em> at the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery. I only had time for a quick look around the exhibition, but it looks fascinating and I'm looking forward to returning when I have more time. It's been a labour of love for Laura MacCulloch, who has been re-assessing the place of FMB in Pre-Raphaelitism through her Ph.D. at the University of Birmingham.<br />Brown was not one of the founding members of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, but as mentor and teacher to them he deserves a place in their history. This exhibition, which focusses on his drawings, looks at Brown in a wider persepctive than is usual. As BMAG's website says,<br />"Recent research has revealed the breath of Madox Brown’s achievements as a modernist and a realist in a career spanning some sixty years until his death in 1893."Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-32264905159114173352008-08-31T13:18:00.000+00:002008-08-31T13:32:28.556+00:00Life is a Cabaret...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVJcRLNPS8zZ1j4bYm_jSFKOSANE4OPnkCM2i-2dtsy_TPA7WbgKoI_HL2icsDSo5LNoIgiYWfvsqpPL-FFJAy0HPJ9qybOg0HmwXt34Gp-byW4SxtKh4x0Jlki8ZIb__uJYgasXJc8zY/s1600-h/12035220774065.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240673839938110578" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVJcRLNPS8zZ1j4bYm_jSFKOSANE4OPnkCM2i-2dtsy_TPA7WbgKoI_HL2icsDSo5LNoIgiYWfvsqpPL-FFJAy0HPJ9qybOg0HmwXt34Gp-byW4SxtKh4x0Jlki8ZIb__uJYgasXJc8zY/s200/12035220774065.jpg" border="0" /></a> On Friday I went to the opening night of <em>Cabaret </em>at the Birmingham Rep. Being me, I didn't realise until I opened the programme that this was the professional debut of Samantha Barks, who was a runner-up in <em>I'd Do Anything</em> (personally I'd say Sally Bowles in <em>Cabaret</em> is a more taxing role than Nancy in <em>Oliver!</em>, but what do I know?!) And it had Wayne Sleep in it. Consequently, I think it's the first time I've seen "Full House" signs outside the theatre; and it was packed. And deservedly so. The set was amazing - flexible and quickly transformed; impressive. Wayne Sleep is both amusing and chilling as Emcee, a role he seems perfect for; and he plays it with a delightful postmoden self-consciousness, asking the audience if they think he's too old to dance, etc. Samantha Barks is good; she's not great, yet, but she's very young, and this was the first night of her first show. She seemed a bit tentative once or twice, but she carried the big numbers of the show very well on the whole, and she does have an amazing voice.<br /><div>And, of course, <em>Cabaret</em> is a cult classic, as it should be. Aesthetically reminiscent of <em>Chicago</em>, Kander & Ebb's later work, it works in the shadows, blurring lines of morality, sexuality, politics etc until the viewer is bedazzled but sympathetic. The shadow of fascism grows throughout the show to a shocking, brilliant climax, and the world of Berlin in the 1930s is evoked in all its tawdry glory. Some musicals make me cross, but this is a feast for the eyes and the mind; it does make you think, so it stays with you.</div><a href="http://www.birmingham-rep.co.uk/event/cabaret">http://www.birmingham-rep.co.uk/event/cabaret</a>Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-70498895261669810022008-08-31T12:52:00.001+00:002008-08-31T13:18:36.818+00:00KlimtOn Thursday I went up to Liverpool for the day to see the Klimt exhibition before it closes (which it now has done). - Incidentally, I was very taken with the Walker Gallery - hadn't been there before; lots of 19th century paintings including DG Rossetti's <em>Dante's Dream</em>, lovely. Anyway, I didn't know much about Klimt, and am not sure how much more I know now, but I'm glad I made the effort to go. If you don't know much about Klimt either, <a href="http://www.expo-klimt.com/">here </a>is a good place to start. I did know a little about his involvement with the Wiener Werkstatte and the Viennese Secession, and this exhibition shows Klimt in context, including interiors and designs as well as paintings and drawings.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuhVmsemaXa743hIQO66Bu1M-9cCkFzWEM_QaAlD8-zjIBJ6WkRkjCCfKNnnuPQNVUvdsJ7cxFOcMZHcW_PCfIV_4sVfin6WgaIh2MHzm0x-W36uBAl17TckQSd-8Ttr4zXXelLt9Puxw/s1600-h/gk013.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240665224657119538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuhVmsemaXa743hIQO66Bu1M-9cCkFzWEM_QaAlD8-zjIBJ6WkRkjCCfKNnnuPQNVUvdsJ7cxFOcMZHcW_PCfIV_4sVfin6WgaIh2MHzm0x-W36uBAl17TckQSd-8Ttr4zXXelLt9Puxw/s200/gk013.jpg" border="0" /></a>Amazingly, I'd never even seen a reproduction of the <em>Beethoven Frieze</em> before, but it was one of my favourite exhibits here. What caught me by surprise, though, is how much some of it looks like a kind of stylized, Art-Deco-esque Pre-Raphaelitism (feel free to argue) but look at those women on the left here - they even have red hair! Similarly, <em>Girls with Oleanders</em> has a wonderful medievalism that both looks back and forward, and <em>Fable</em> seems to me to reference Cranach's Adam and Eve - or so I wrote in my notes at the time, though looking at it again now I'm not so sure; but it does seem to refer to the Old Masters rather than contemporary painting.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240667844340205266" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRSA55ym3Dhh9NhReVHLt0fhy9BFUGmFaB73P4OW7-bQ3WwA0rEli-yRkGcGc6MDu5iUYniE25cxB951o58vzYSmgNKJXL2kSaIlgAvgbFp9YHWR8S4YYYd9JNkx3aFh9zS8iPcZByedQ/s200/klimtMain.jpg" border="0" />I was taken with Klimt's landscape painting. I notice the brochure says that his landscapes are "now a highly admired aspect of his oeuvre", but to the layman (me) landscapes are not what I associate with his work. However, I loved them - busy patchworks of nature, yet the images are representative rather than natural - no Pre-Raphaelitism here! <em>Garden Landscape with Hilltop</em>, for example (section of it is on the right) seems almost medieval in its profusion, yet is reminiscent of Van Gogh. (As you may have noticed, I'm quite interested in aspects of influence in art as well as writing, and how an artist recreates earlier artistic ideals to his or her own ends.)<br />What I haven't got to grips with yet is Klimt's depiction of women - some are ch<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlp9lHRheOR5rXIpS7iiPd29GN6BIi1Dg9kRhWPOqH6t-yZhmWpP7Gk_YWtqb49yvVde6Hli-MC-4O2bYDYgfOrn8Kl8rK8EhFbr77VIQ0xtubtNXw7nvJPlBBW_UIpPLJ3JdWT5Lpf5Q/s1600-h/klimt_ria_munk_on_deathbed_by_freep.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240669679091915522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlp9lHRheOR5rXIpS7iiPd29GN6BIi1Dg9kRhWPOqH6t-yZhmWpP7Gk_YWtqb49yvVde6Hli-MC-4O2bYDYgfOrn8Kl8rK8EhFbr77VIQ0xtubtNXw7nvJPlBBW_UIpPLJ3JdWT5Lpf5Q/s200/klimt_ria_munk_on_deathbed_by_freep.jpg" border="0" /></a>allenging, looking directly at the viewer and exuding an independent life of their own, such as the <em>femme fatale</em> depicted in <em>Judith II (Salome)</em> while others seem passive, overwhelmed by circumstance and the (male) gaze of the viewer. Of course, as the exhibition notes point out, this was a time when "Sigmund Freud's theories positing sexuality as a liberating force were highly influential, contributing to an overarching atmosphere of eroticism". True, but liberating for whom? Not many of these women look very liberated; it's the male artist who can paint them who seems to benefit here! And <em>Ria Munk on her deathbed</em> strikes me as a prime example of the nineteenth-century aestheticised dead woman - beautiful, but unable to talk back. Of course, it also channels Ophelia in her many guises - mad, dead, and surveyed best when silenced, apparently.Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-24596265641088357552008-08-29T16:06:00.000+00:002008-08-29T16:13:22.343+00:00Neo-VictoriansLast weekend I went to "Adapting the Nineteenth Century" at the University of Lampeter, and had a wonderful time! There were so many neo-Victorianists there I felt a bit of a fraud, since I've read and enjoyed Sarah Waters (it was nearly a Waters conference...) but that's about it. I heard lots of papers which looked at how contemporary authors have appropriated aspects of the nineteenth century novel, and have a much longer to-read list now than before (Top of the list: <em>The Crimson Petal and the White</em> and <em>The End of Mr Y</em>). It's fascinating, though, to see how we're still so fascinated with the past (this has set me on the track of thinking about nostalgia as an aspect of memory) and how we are writing and re-writing histories in entirely different ways.<br />I was particularly fascinated to hear about the Brotherhood of Ruralists, who were a neo-Pre-Raphaelite group formed in the Seventies and appropriated many of the artistic and also literary ideals of the PRB, and I'm looking forward to going to see their exhibition in Falmouth later this year.<br />I have no time to go into details, but it was a most enjoyable conference - made more so by red wine and feminism on Friday night. More weekends should be like that!Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-91578890569008440752008-08-13T17:32:00.001+00:002008-08-13T21:06:04.030+00:00The Ladies of Grace Adieu<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG_E7b0g-Co2OuhrGOqb57XwnbzQL4_mDpizcULO9A2vUZK0yXD4yPW-4eo0GL0AKXBeiQGV7rbobbpSULP-qJ5EOFVmdigmIsBA7Kqrn_ejjElc1pKJTeXbKM0zz3nJ6eGcTpEfjbo1I/s1600-h/1596912510_02_LZZZZZZZ.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234057148665233234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG_E7b0g-Co2OuhrGOqb57XwnbzQL4_mDpizcULO9A2vUZK0yXD4yPW-4eo0GL0AKXBeiQGV7rbobbpSULP-qJ5EOFVmdigmIsBA7Kqrn_ejjElc1pKJTeXbKM0zz3nJ6eGcTpEfjbo1I/s200/1596912510_02_LZZZZZZZ.jpg" border="0" /></a><em>The Ladies of Grace Adieu</em> by Susanna Clarke is a gem. Not just in the contents, but also in the book itself - I won't go on about the materiality of the text, etc, but it's a beautifully designed book, lovely cover and wonderful, ethereal illustrations by the peerless Charles Vess. Actually, the book as a whole rather reminded me of a book of short stories by Walter de la Mare that I had as a child (the name escapes me) with illustrations in a similar style, and stories of similar jewel-like perfection.<br />Of course Clarke is best known for <em>Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell</em>, which I haven't read but have just ordered from Amazon. I can't comment on that well-received work, therefore, but I hope it will be as enchanting as this book. And enchanting is just the right word; it's all about enchantment - Clarke reworks fairytales, or develops her own characters from her earlier novel, creating a world which is entirely seductive. Here, the world of faery mingles with the world we know, bewildering but captivating. Clarke cleverly presents the book as an edited collection by the fictional "Professor James Sutherland, Director of Sidhe studies, University of Aberdeen" (the Sidhe are an ancient race of Celtic fairies - you can read more about them <a href="http://celticsociety.freeservers.com/sidhe.html">here</a>). This professor introduces the stories as curiosities, relics of another time, collected and edited with footnotes by him. We are therefore invited to read these stories as anecdotes by people who, from the sixteenth century onwards, have actually seen and interacted with fairies. What makes it so intriguing is that the tales are thus placed within an entirely fictional context of a canon of studies which doesn't exist, playing with the boundaries of the academic, the fictional, and genuine research into folk-tales.<br />I don't think I'm doing it justice here; there is a marvellous wistful quality to Clarke's writing which makes the rhythm of the tales hypnotic; furthermore, she has an excellent ear for the cadences of writing in a certain period; her 18th century prose would do justice to Austen while her Elizabethans are almost (modernised) Spenserian. I don't know anything about Clarke, but I bet she knows her Eng Lit. It's an absolute delight; do read it.Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2694899125924331840.post-6651282930273621182008-08-05T16:04:00.003+00:002008-08-08T14:53:44.475+00:00Love is all around...?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCToQzImBxwH99ooDwdrrErx2U2OBiYja7cfDEWXD_I7qL88zWJcRXHC-HlyekFxJIKbXFcVjn1_cKUuSTU68rdFcmeITMpsZNwLR9ZLf28uPanWHHEAzJZqtTTkNPvyqrBPt_hLKgPqA/s1600-h/baticket126.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231068480983668242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCToQzImBxwH99ooDwdrrErx2U2OBiYja7cfDEWXD_I7qL88zWJcRXHC-HlyekFxJIKbXFcVjn1_cKUuSTU68rdFcmeITMpsZNwLR9ZLf28uPanWHHEAzJZqtTTkNPvyqrBPt_hLKgPqA/s200/baticket126.jpg" border="0" /></a>The National Gallery's <em>Love</em> exhibition seems to have been reviewed everywhere recently, and I'm always a sucker for a freebie anyway, so thought I'd have a quick look. I'm glad I did. It's not often you get to see such an eclectic mix - Emin alongside Rossetti, Cranach near Claude, etc. Generally I'm a bit wary of "themes" - allows generalised and rather trite philosophising, as well as making often rather tenuous connections, and the NG blurb didn't inspire me much:<br /><div>Arguably love has been the inspiration for more great art than any other human emotion. Nevertheless it presents a challenge to the visual artist. How do you depict love? How do you convey its complexity and intensity?</div><div></div><div>The wide range of types of love made it difficult to focus, but it was managed quite well, covering divine and human love, siblings, parental, and the usual romantic love. I thought Sandys' <em>Medea</em> was an interesting inclusion - what can go wrong in love (for those who didn't do Classics A-level, Medea killed her children to pay back her husband for infidelity. Lovely.) And I was surprisingly taken with Grayson Perry's <em>God Please Keep My Children Safe</em> (above), a fragile-looking ceramic rabbit with prayers for one's children inscribed on it. Directly opposite tha<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Qc4xmRsugf5xyFaF419b3DTtscXD-p9uzIzw-2P7BbRqhTvnB-GgU4JM5FEGsKmbAwMhRElfRW4TnuDlh4iTihVLfjF97tyYAjAMBfwX2mhQpH5r0G5lhsvHWaMeoyZLtr4shIliGKQ/s1600-h/6.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231070935689108578" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Qc4xmRsugf5xyFaF419b3DTtscXD-p9uzIzw-2P7BbRqhTvnB-GgU4JM5FEGsKmbAwMhRElfRW4TnuDlh4iTihVLfjF97tyYAjAMBfwX2mhQpH5r0G5lhsvHWaMeoyZLtr4shIliGKQ/s200/6.jpg" border="0" /></a>t, DG Rossetti's <em>Astarte Syriaca</em> - now that's a twisted kind of love, difficult to disentangle the painter's personal feelings (his adulterous adoration of the model, Jane Morris) from the classical connotations of the subject.</div><div>Actually, two of the paintings I liked best were ones I hadn't seen before: Jan Molenaer's <em>A Young Man and Woman making music</em> (1630-2) - domestic and artistic harmony (though he looks a lot happier than she does) and painted so comfortably; and Chagall's <em>Bouquet with Flying Lovers </em>(1934-47), left, which seems a tribute to a happy marriage, though it was painted after her death, and contains shadows and colours of mourning as well as a blissful-looking couple. I guess that's one of the good things about "themed" exhibitions, though - not only does it throw paintings one knows and loves into a different context, it also provides new joys.</div>Serena Trowbridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12108728384223839048noreply@blogger.com0