Why History?

In 1976 I arrived from my country grammar school at the Historical shrine of Peterhouse. At the time, although the smallest of the colleges of Cambridge, it had the highest number of History dons.

The study of History was taken seriously and the effect on me was to be lifelong. The key people for me were Maurice Cowling and Brian Wormald. Sitting in front of these strange, intense men reading an undergraduate essay was profoundly challenging. Historical writing involved seeking to understand the reality behind why men acted in the way they did; and that reality was hugely complex and not to be confused with the descriptions of it in the work of historians. For those writing about the past always have an agenda. The identification and evaluation of that agenda is part of the reader’s challenge. The effort to abandon – or at least admit to – that agenda is part of the historian’s challenge.

Allen Jones, Anselm Kiefer, Peder Balke and Moroni

A busy weekend of catching up on viewings. The Kiefer show at the Royal Academy was astonishing.I had no previous knowledge of his work and went twice to try to get to grips with it. The size of the work is overwhelming and cumulatively highly impactive. It seems logistically impossible that some of the works were able to be transported to London without damaging them. The work is impossible to summarise; perhaps one can say that work which compels thought on the part of the viewer has achieved something worthwhile. He clearly has artistic ability and imagination and the whole of German history to play with as his subject matter.

The 19th century Norwegian artist, Peder Balke, at the National Gallery is fascinating as well, but in a different sense. Unknown not just to me but I suppose to most people at the show at the National Gallery (free), he had a narrow talent to display the achievements of Creation particularly around the North coast of Norway and in the desolate Finnmark. The show served as a useful geography lesson. Beyond that, it intrigued, but only moderately. He seemed not to have tussled with the human figure , at least not in the pictures in this show, and there are limits to how many times one can sensibly goggle at the jagged cliffs of that inhospitable North coast.

Allen Jones in the Burlington Galleries at the back of the Royal Academy was, alas, a disgrace. A truly ghastly exhibition; far too large as a show and in rooms which were far too large for almost anything smaller than full-scale Kiefer specials. One wonders what the organisers were thinking of. The notorious human furniture pieces were there and it was of course interesting to see work which had seemed so shocking long ago; a few of the paintings were fine in their slick, tricky way. The majority of the sculptures were beyond parody. The final room barely merited a glance. Judging by the fact that, on a Saturday morning, I was almost the only person viewing the show, others have not been too tempted.

Moroni  at the Royal Academy was a quiet joy. Subtle, skilful, high quality work; one felt like a nascent connoisseur seeing such attractive pictures.The only drawback is that horrid glass staircase up to the rooms.

Geoffrey Clarke

The death of Geoffrey Clarke deprives us of one of the significant sculptors of 20th C Britain. Born in 1924 (and obituary recently in the Guardian), his public sculpture can be found extensively at Coventry Cathedral, and also at Chichester Cathedral. Whether he was a “religious” artist is a moot point; on the other hand, perhaps like Graham Sutherland, he was a modern artist sufficiently sympathetic to religion to work comfortably in Church settings and his work at Coventry, for example, is very powerful. It also holds its own in the company of the great work by Sutherland (huge tapestries) and Piper (stained glass), which might have overwhelmed a lesser artist. Whether being associated with such commissions helped Clarke’s career is of course another matter. The whole vexed question of 20th C British “religious” art and its effect on the careers of those involved is a subject for discussion.

Colquhoun and Macbryde at the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art

A big retrospective on the work of the Roberts opens at the SNGMA in Edinburgh in late November. It promises to be an exciting show. I have been working with the curator, Patrick Elliott, on the text of the catalogue.

Portraits of Sir George Watson

Peter Watson’s money came entirely from the successful business efforts of his father, Sir George, who helped to create and develop Maypole Dairies. Until its decline as an independent company in the 1920s, this business was astonishingly successful and profitable. On the back of the money generated by Maypole, Sir George bought a huge estate called Sulhamstead; sent his 2 sons to Eton and lived the life of a plutocratic Edwardian businessman until his death in 1930.

As we research the lives of the Watson family, interesting facts emerge. It transpires that Hubert von Herkomer painted Sir George in 1913 and Sir John Lavery painted separate portraits of Sir George and his wife, Bessie, around the same time. Of these 3 portraits, the whereabouts of only one is known: the picture of Bessie. If anyone reading this has any thoughts as to the whereabouts of the others, please get in touch.

Charles Cundall at Lord’s

Lord’s moves round its large collection of cricketing pictures and there has appeared in the Long Room a large oil by Charles Cundall (1890-1971). This shows the Second Test against the Australians at Lord’s in June 1938 from the top of G Stand. It is a marvellous depiction of the then ground, including its environs. Over behind the Mound Stand was a vast power station; I assume the surviving electricity substation (about to be redeveloped) is a distant reminder.

In any event, whilst Cundall, who was a well-known professional artist, has had a good go at the ground, the representation of the game has defeated him. His players are displayed as in an 18th century depiction of a cricket match: bunched together impossibly closely and with the square leg umpire appearing to be fielding at forward short leg. It is remarkable how hard artists find it to depict a cricket match in a realistic manner; the players are often too small or too large and placed in silly positions.

Lucian Freud and John Craxton’s drawings of Peter Watson at Christie’s

On 25th June,2014, Christie’s is holding an evening sale of Modern British and Irish Art at King Street. I have contributed a total of approximately 1,000 words to two catalogue entries, on the subject of Peter Watson.

Lot 2 is a portrait drawing of Watson by Freud and lot 6 is a drawing of Watson by Craxton. The works are being sold by the Craxton Estate and my friend, Ian Collins, has contributed an excellent piece on Craxton by way of introduction.

 

 

The History of the ICA

Last night I attended a launch of an excellent new book on the early history of the ICA. The book was largely written by Anne Massey and covers the years from its post-War beginnings up to when it moved from Dover Street to the Mall in 1968.

Peter Watson was heavily involved in the ICA from the beginning until his death in 1956. He influenced a long list of key exhibitions in the 1950s, promoting  his favourite artists such as Wifredo Lam, Matta and Francis Bacon.

The current director, Gregor Muir, has taken the initiative in promoting an interest in the history of the ICA, unlike some of his predecessors. This is a very welcome change. The ICA archives in the Tate are both voluminous and fascinating, as they contain extensive records of key figures in the artistic community for the 1950s and 1960s at least.

John Piper Stained Glass

In St Margaret’s, Westminster yesterday, we noticed the rather subdued modern stained glass in the South Aisle. It turns out that it was put there in 1966 to replace glass destroyed by bombing in the War. Designed by Piper, it was made by that great glass-maker, Patrick Reyntiens.