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Sojourn in the South of France

21 Jul

Ridiculous as this may seem, it is nearly a month since I went to France and this is the first chance I have actually had to sit down and properly reflect on my trip – apart from my usual frantic running around I have had a particularly bad bout of sinusitis and an allergic reaction to a wasp sting that then became infected.  The medication has exhausted me and I’ve had a huge amount of work to do in the crazy run up to the Edinburgh Fringe.  So, apologies to all my regular readers but now I’m back!

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The rooftops in Mons. Own photograph.

Mons is a village nestled high in the Provence-Alpes-Côte d’Azur region, seemingly isolated in the middle of a picturesque nowhere.  The village doesn’t seem to have changed in centuries – accessed only by hairpin bends that climb the mountains, its streets are narrow and imbued with character.  Mons forces you to relax and the Art Lover’s House is the perfect place to do this.

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Narrow streets in Mons. Own photograph.

This no ordinary house, it is also a gallery but it is available to rent and you can spend a holiday surrounded by an eclectic mix of work in all media.  There are sculptures dotted in the maze-like corridors, vibrant paintings, photographs of cityscapes, charcoals of changing landscapes with never-ending rows of Venetian gondolas, abstract nudes, pieces of ironwork and a wonderful collection of vintage Olympic Games’ posters at the very top of the house in a room overlooking the entire valley and mountainous landscape.  The horse’s head near the cave looks like a ruin amongst the gravel but is perfectly placed to surprise you every time you turn the corner.  One little ledge of a twisting staircase reveals a chair and a pair of boots tucked behind glass – maybe for the house’s ghost or for the resident artist to return to his perch after a day exploring the rugged landscape.  There’s something here for everyone and if forced relaxation doesn’t work for you there’s plenty to visit nearby as I found out.

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Art Lover’s House. Own photograph.

Nearby Seillans makes the hills in Mons seem very slight indeed.  Accessible only by foot, it was the home of Max Ernst and Dorothea Tanning in the ’60s and ’70s and it now hosts a quirky Max Ernst museum above the tourist office, open in the afternoons.  Ernst first discovered Seillans when visiting Patrick Waldberg and, aged 73, he fell in love with the sleepy village.  He moved there with Tanning and remained there for the last 12 years of his life.

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Seillans. Own photograph.

I paid my two euros to ascend the stairs and what I found was a surprise.  There are no attendants in the exhibition area itself; in fact, you have to turn the lights on and off yourself.  And why not?  I think this is rather a sensible and economical idea.  Although I imagine there are times in the summer when Seillans is busy, they certainly do not need to man this space full time.  On display are, mainly, lithographs intended as illustrations for the works of Surrealist friends but this is not a bad show for a small museum.

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Inside the Max Ernst Museum.

Even today, Seillans is a very artistic town with galleries throwing open their doors on every street.  One such space is The Orange Tree Gallery – part of Tessa and Nigel Cox’s house – which is filled with light and a wonderful orange tree growing in the middle (a couple of fake oranges have been strung onto the branches, adding to the charm and mystique of the space).  Tessa is the artist in residence and, as well as displaying her own works, she is very welcoming to visitors having a nose around her studio.  Considering the amount of cats I had seen in this area, sadly we didn’t meet their famous black cat who can be spotted in most of the publicity shots of the gallery.

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The Orange Tree Gallery. Own photograph.

As we had a late flight home, we made the most of the day by visiting Antibes on our way to Nice.  Located on a completely stunning stretch of coast, Antibes is home to the Picasso Museum which is housed in the Château Grimaldi, built on the foundations of an ancient Greek town.  In its time it has been the Grimaldi family home, the town hall of Antibes and for six months in 1946 it was home to Pablo Picasso.  During this time he produced paintings and frescoes that still remain there.  Part of what makes the museum so special is Picasso’s inherent connection to the building that you can still feel even to this day.  The collections holds around 250 Picasso works of varying quality and many of the lesser-known works deserve particular note.  The collection is a joy to behold but not too big so as to overwhelm.  I took a couple of people with me who don’t have my enthusiasm for art and they found themselves swept away.  The museum’s location makes it particularly special; standing in the sculpture courtyard overlooking the perfect blue sea of the Côte d’Azur is magical and presents the sculptures in an entirely new framework.

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The sculpture terrace. Own photograph.

The museum also has a modern and contemporary collection which, sadly, was largely closed for a rehang during my visit but this allowed me to truly focus on the Picasso.

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Closed at the Picasso Museum. Own photograph.

Moving on to Nice itself my first stop was the Chagall Museum.  I’m a Chagall fan anyway but seeing his works en masse in this specially-designed space was mind-blowing.  Everywhere I turned there was another work of exceptional quality.  Chagall creates another world, a richly emotive setting of Biblical and imaginary figures who wander from canvas to canvas through his ever-shifting landscapes.  The museum was built in close collaboration with Chagall himself; its simple interiors within a highly complex architectural structure are full of spaces flooded with natural light.  Chagall’s Biblical Message, a cycle of seventeen large-format paintings, forms the heart of the collection and is on permanent display.  Chagall felt that his paintings provided a commentary on biblical texts – one that you can appreciate and understand regardless of religious convictions.  The museum is the perfect setting for these perfect works.

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Chagall’s Biblical Message on display. Own photograph.

A concert hall, where a film about Chagall is currently being shown, is lit by three exquisite stained-glass windows showing the seven days of Creation.  The windows are remarkably abstract with only the middle window containing substantial recognisable figurative elements.  Just when you think there can’t be any more you stumble across a mosaic on an outside wall above a pool.  If you only want to see one thing in the area this museum would have to be my recommendation.

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The outside mosaic at the museum. Own photograph.

The Matisse Museum didn’t overwhelm me in quite the same way and the collection was easy to walk through without as much devotion to the individual works on display.  The permanent collection seeks to look at the artist’s development and his experimentation and includes objects that were in his possession throughout his career.  It’s also up a very long hill so I don’t recommend being brave and walking up or down.  There’s a very good bus that goes from the Chagall to the Matisse but, unfortunately, I didn’t find the right bus stop to get back down and ended up walking for miles.  To celebrate its 50th anniversary the Matisse Museum has mounted an exhibition looking at the theme of music running through Matisse’s career, particularly linked to his presence in Nice.  While music may have formed part of Matisse’s everyday environment I didn’t feel this was conveyed by the exhibition itself.  The pamphlet tells that each of his children played an instrument, that his paintings portray various musical instruments and that, in the 1920s, he produced numerous paintings of Henrietta at the piano.  He paints instruments in the way others may paint a portrait.  But, here, his passion is somewhat diluted.  The villa in which the museum is housed is particularly striking – an imposing building in 17th century Genoese style with a red-ochre façade overlooking the nearby Roman ruins and the olive grove that stretches out in front.

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The Matisse Museum in Nice. Own photograph.

I always find visiting the South of France to be special.  Every time I head in that direction, I visit something new whether it be a large museum, an artist’s studio or an unexpected commercial gallery hidden in a maze of cobbled streets.  I can’t wait to go back, it’s just a case of finding the time.

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For more information about all the places I visited see: http://artlovershouse.com/, http://www.theorangetreegalerie.com/, http://www.antibes-juanlespins.com/les-musees/picasso, http://www.musees-nationaux-alpesmaritimes.fr/chagall/ and http://www.musee-matisse-nice.org/.

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Here, there and everywhere

26 May

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind – as soon as I seem to be back in London and on top of my to-do list I’m heading off somewhere new.  Of course, I’m loving every minute but it has certainly been chaotic which is why this particular post ranges from France to Sussex and back to Shoreditch and Trafalgar Square.

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Monet’s House at Giverny. Own photograph.

A few days after Berlin Gallery Weekend I was woken up in the very early hours to head over to France for the Bank Holiday weekend.  I’ve always wanted to visit Giverny and, as it was only an hour off route (heaven forbid that I could just relax and enjoy French wine and cheese), we programmed the sat-nav and off we went.  Entry to Giverny provides access to Monet’s house and garden.  This was the second pink house with green shutters in which Monet had lived and the second time his house had been separated from the garden by a road.  Colour is everything here – both inside and out.  The walls of the house are adorned with works – there are Japanese prints everywhere plus his huge collection of paintings including works by Delacroix, Cézanne and Renoir.

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Inside Monet’s House. Own photograph.

Even on an overcast day, the garden cannot help but make you smile with its full-to-the-brim flowerbeds and radiant colours.  Monet had started gardening while living at Argenteuil but not on a scale that would suggest the passion he imbued into the gardens at Giverny.  His garden was designed with his paintings in mind – he planted what he wanted to paint so, in a sense, he created the scene that resided in his imagination.  When Monet arrived at Giverny there were no ponds but it had always been his dream to have them and it is, of course, his water lily ponds and the Japanese bridge that have become synonymous with his name.

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The Japanese bridge. Own photograph.

Monet was severely afflicted by cataracts despite two operations towards the end of his life.  As his sight worsened, his works turned from fresh, bright colours to a heavier palette, almost certainly as a result of his blurred colour vision.  Whether or not his gardens became lost to him is hard to say but what can be certain is that his pronounced choices of colour infused his world with light and life for many years and helped to create some of the scenes we remember him for today.

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Monet’s garden. Own photograph.

After settling in at Nogent-Le-Rotrou, it was irresistible to visit the Chateau Saint-Jean as it was only two minutes away.  Built around 1020 on the site of an earlier castle, the building has suffered a lot of intervention over the years and much of what remains is of a later period.  It is an imposing and impressive fortress perched on a point with a vantage over the entire area.  Inside there is a museum dedicated to the history of the town and, strangely enough, a contemporary art gallery with an exhibition of works by Patrick Loste, evoking the often crude portrayals of cave paintings.  I can find art anywhere!

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Chateau Saint-Jean. Own photograph.

It was a flying visit to France but, on the way back home, there was just time to stop in at the Holy Trinity Abbey in Vendôme enabling me to indulge my love of the Gothic period.  The feature of most note has to be the 12th century frescoes that were discovered behind the 14th century chapter house walls.  The sections that remain are badly fragmented the sections but have been preserved remarkably well and one scene showing the Miraculous Catch after Christ’s Resurrection is still strikingly clear consider its age.

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Holy Trinity Abbey, Vendôme. Own photograph.

Back in the UK, it was time for the opening of the opera season at Glyndebourne, the wonderful opera house in Sussex founded in 1934.  As tempted as I am to do so, I will resist touching on the opera but do have to mention their art programme.  As many of you will know, I am very into public installations and making the most of outdoor spaces through art.  Glyndebourne are very much on the same page and this season is marked by an exhibition of works by Sean Henry who does exactly this, creating monumental works in bronze for the urban landscape.  His works capture the mundane, subjects caught in a moment of introspection with which we can identify.  Glydnebourne don’t have the strongest selection of his sculptures but they are unavoidable in the picturesque landscape of the house.

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Sean Henry, Catafalque, 2003. Own photograph.

Finally, it seemed I was back in London for long enough to get around some exhibitions here.  The Catlin Art Prize is a highlight of the calendar and the brilliant eye of the curator means that we can normally expect great things from the nine chosen graduates who have had to produce new work for the exhibition.

Catlinexterior2013 The Catlin Prize takes over Londonewcastle. Image courtesy of Peter Hope and via www.artcatlin.com

The winner Terry Ryu Kim forced the visitor to become part of her installation – manipulating the viewer’s path through architecture and technology.  The work explores how structures can exert power, the installation becomes a stage that dictates our actions.  It is haunting and beautiful, both intimate and evasive at the same time.

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Terry Ryu Kim, Screening Solution I,II and III. Image courtesy of Peter Hope and via www.artcatlin.com

Juno Calypso who won the visitor vote has garnered a lot of attention, using the more traditional medium of photography.  Calypso staged scenes in which she performs as a character called Joyce, always obscuring her face and thereby forcing us to focus on other elements of the scene.  The narrative of the unsettling seems to be a theme in this year’s award.

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Juno Calypso, 12 Reasons You’re Tired All The Time. Image via www.artcatlin.com

All of the finalists deserve mention but I think praise must be given to Nicky Deeley.  Of course, performance art is common now but for a young graduate to produce a work of such maturity is impressive.  The piece sits deftly on the line between creepy, cute and fascinating.  Admittedly I only saw one costume change but the crowds of people gathered around the work certainly suggested everyone was hooked.

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Nicky Deeley performing Island Year. Own photograph.

I can often be hard to please and so regularly gallery spaces rest on their laurels.  One may think this is more true of traditional spaces that are guaranteed the crowds come what may.  Well, The National Gallery is currently shaking things up.  Michael Landy’s Saints Alive is a result of a two year residency with an in-house studio.  Many artists in the past have failed this challenge but Landy has risen to it.  He wasn’t scared of the esteemed regard in which everyone holds the National Gallery’s collections.  Everything that made him seem the most inappropriate person for this position has actually made him the best.

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Saints Alive at The National Gallery. Own photograph.

Asked my thoughts on The NG I would normally name it as a place of calm, a space where one can think and admire some of the most wonderful art in London.  It was the first gallery I visited as a child and somewhere I still regularly visit.  As I approached the Sunley Room I could hear crashes and bangs, normally such noises would have the guards running to find the source of the disturbance.  But the disturbance is, in fact, part of the exhibition.  Landy has subverted the serenity.

Walking in I was met by Saint Apollonia, a nine-foot sculpture made of fibre glass, recalling a sculpture painted in a Lucas Cranach work.  I nervously edged towards the pedal at her feet, balancing precariously on a stiletto and pressing it down.  At this point the pliers she was holding smashed persistently into her mouth.  There’s a spare head ready for when this one becomes a tad too battered.  She is not the only one who is bringing to life the suffering the saints endured.

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Saint Apollonia in the Sunley Room. Own photograph.

Landy has been inspired by the stories of the saints – stories which were once known by everybody yet today have fallen into obscurity. Towering over visitors are seven large-scale kinetic sculptures that swivel and turn, evoking the torment of each saint’s life.  These sculptures are interactive; there are buttons to press, a handle to crank and foot pedals to push. There are T-shirts to be won and a Saint Francis of Assisi donation box activated by coins.

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One of Landy’s kinetic sculptures. Own photograph.

Landy doesn’t intend to cause offence with these sculptures; his research into the works in the collection and his retelling, through these kinetic beasts, of the saints’ stories is remarkable.  Each saint has a symbolic attribute that makes him or her instantly recognisable.  Landy has transformed the saints from objects of spiritual devotion into artworks, made from pieces of junk that play on his interest in destruction.  Landy brings the saints from the walls of the gallery to life.  They are fascinating.  We want to press the buttons again and again – are they unnerving or are they funny?  I don’t think anyone was quite sure.  The legends themselves are often ridiculous and Landy has captured this with his own unique magic, comedy and an enticing undertone of the macabre.  The awful and gruesome ordeals these saints underwent were meant to show their patience and endurance.  As the sculptures break under the strain there is a certain irony here.  And don’t think that’s not fully intentional either.  Landy’s past works have always been about selflessness, generosity and virtue so he wasn’t actually as far removed from these topics as many thought.

Alongside the sculptures are his drawings and collages made from cut-up reproductions of works in the collection.  I’d urge you not to get so distracted by the sculptures that you miss these.

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Saint Jerome in action. Own photograph.

As I turned back to take one last look at the exhibition Saint Jerome was still quivering behind me.  Legend tells that he used to beat himself with a rock to prevent him from having impure sexual thoughts.  But as he stands there quivering you can’t help but wonder what is going on beneath the excessive drapery around his legs.  However, before there was a chance to cast any aspersion onto the virtue of the saint, someone else had crept towards the pedal and Saint Jerome had returned to whacking himself.

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Michael Landy’s Saints Alive is at The National Gallery until 24th November 2013, www.nationagallery.co.uk.

You Shall Have A Fishy On A Little Dishy – Musée de l’Étang de Thau

18 Sep

As we all know, the French love their food and I, for one, have spent the past week sampling their gastronomic delights.  The English have a sentimental attachment to their pets, and while the French cherish their dogs, even taking them out to restaurants, most other animals are regarded as potential meals.  The Musée de l’Étang de Thau, in the charming fishing village of Bouzigues, demonstrates this in no uncertain terms.  An art gallery, museum and aquarium all rolled into one – it certainly is unique.

Musée de l’Étang de Thau, Bouzigues. Own photograph. 

The second largest lake in France, the Étang is a thriving shellfish industry with over 13,000 tonnes of oysters and 3,000 tonnes of mussels farmed annually.  Their current photography exhibition, Femmes d’Étang, focuses on the women of the Étang showing that they can work as well as the men.  The feminist in me rose to the surface and I thought this was great.  Originally, the men were responsible for the manual labour ‘with their arms’ but the women wanted to share in the work believing they were just as capable (if not more so).

Femmes d’Étang at Musée de l’Étang de Thau. Own photograph.

Over the years, women have become more and more involved in the life of the Étang, often adapting established systems to create more efficient and convivial practices.  The photographs successfully capture the hard work that goes on here and the principal involvement of these great women, who seem to thoroughly enjoy it.

Femmes d’Étang at Musée de l’Étang de Thau. Own photograph.

But, the highlight of the museum, which has to be seen to be believed, is the aquarium where fish from the Étang swim around their tanks accompanied by plaques with local recipes and serving suggestions.  I kid you not.  I’d heard about this museum for a number of years but always thought I was having my leg pulled.

Sole and Daurade. Own photograph.

No, you’ve got to hand it to the French – they’re certainly spiced up an otherwise fairly mundane aquarium.  And, I’m somewhat ashamed to admit that looking at those oysters in their tanks did make me look forward to my lunch.

Oysters and Mussels. Own photograph.

Femmes d’Étang is at the Musée de l’Étang de Thau until 31st December 2011, http://www.bouzigues.fr/musee/francais/etang-thau.html.

Sète Pieces – Musée Paul Valéry

16 Sep

At night, the lights of Sète shine across the étang from Marseillan.  During the day, Sète is a busy commercial port but it is also known for its art (and seafood).  You could easily spend the day exploring its four museums and numerous smaller galleries.  Sadly, I had time for only one.  The Musée Paul Valéry is named after the town’s famous poet.

Musée Paul Valéry, Sète. Own photograph.

Musée Paul Valéry has recently undergone a major refurbishment – it is nicely designed and a pleasure to walk through.  Their permanent collection focuses on local artists with a strong maritime theme but, unfortunately, it’s not up to much.  Some of the works are really rather bad and it won’t take you more than ten minutes to walk through this part of the museum.

Musée Paul Valéry, Sète. Own photograph.

Upstairs is a different story and the current exhibition, Juan Gris: rimes de la forme et de la couleur, is an unexpected delight.

Born 1887, Gris’s family had determined he would become an engineer but, contrary to their wishes, he chose a more artistic route.  Arriving in Paris in 1906, he met Picasso and numerous other influential artists of the time and witnessed the emergence of Cubism.  There is no doubt that Gris was instantly smitten although, for some years, in order to make a living, the majority of his time was given over to contributing drawings to periodicals.

Man Ray, Juan Gris in 1922. Image via http://museepaulvalery-sete.fr/

Gris watched and learnt from his artist friends.  Borrowing techniques from the analytical style of early Cubism, he broke away from the Cubist palette and distinguished himself from Picasso and Braque by introducing his own vision, working in the style of Synthetic Cubism.

Juan Gris, La vue sur la baie, 1921. Own photograph.

I was already a fan of Gris’s painting and there is no doubt that he is a successful master of composition.  His scientific mind is evident from his studies and some of his works are very minimalistic and austere.

The exhibition is extensive and follows Gris’s entire career – brief though it was.  Quotes on the wall from Gris and his contemporaries are a nice touch.  A series of unusual drawings from 1910-11 is an interesting inclusion that I hadn’t seen before.

During World War One, he developed his own syntax and his shapes are formed by an enigmatic interaction between line and colour.  Gris invites the spectator to consider the forms he has presented.  As objects balance and perch one on top of another, they vie for our attention in a subtle and understated way.  His works are not about making big bangs but taking a back seat in a powerful way.

Juan Gris, Arlequin assis à la guitare, 1919. Own photograph. 

Although still lives dominate Gris’s oeuvre, there are still characters all of whom have an identifiable aspect.  Despite these recognisable features, the ‘portraits’ have an absence of reality – they are more human prototypes than actual people.  The figures belong to a dramatised fiction, accompanied by an occasionally unsettling timeless silence.

After the war, Gris developed ‘visual rhymes’ where there was more room for metaphors of shape.  The works from 1920-25 are striking for their extreme simplicity and thick heavy outlines.  He repeatedly studies the same subject, managing to vary the method or portrayal each time with an almost poetic intuition.

Juan Gris, Personnage assis, 1920. Own photograph.

This is a large but easily palatable exhibition, spaciously hung and enjoyable to visit.  The reflections in the glass are often a problematic distraction, but this is an on-going concern of mine.

Gris was prolific – although he painted for less than 20 years, he left around 600 paintings.  This is a great introduction to the artist if you are not already familiar with him.

Directly across the road from the gallery is the Cimetière Marin – the Sailor’s Cemetery.  Perched on a cliff and facing the sea, this is one of Sète’s most famous places and has one of the most stunning views.  It also houses the grave of Paul Valéry himself.  With an impressive air of Classicism surrounding the layered tombs, it is definitely worth a visit.

Cimetière Marin, Sète. Own photograph.

Sète itself is tranquil, yet bustling and unpretentious.  If you manage to avoid the more touristy areas, it’s a charming town to visit.  I headed off on a boat to tour the canals and then once more unto the beach.  Surprise, surprise I headed back to La Ola for the rest of the afternoon to soak up some rays!

Sète. Own photograph.

Juan Gris: rimes de la forme et de la couleur is at Musée Paul Valéry until 31st October 2011, http://museepaulvalery-sete.fr/.

Languishing in the Languedoc: Musée Fabre and Pavillon Populaire

13 Sep

Arriving in Montpellier after only two hours’ sleep, le petit train was the perfect way to relax and see the city – full of gorgeous architecture and intoxicating French culture.  Suitably resuscitated, I headed off to the Musée Fabre.   Mad I know, but my conscience wouldn’t allow me to miss such a well-known gallery.

Musée Fabre, Montpellier. Own photograph.

The Museé Fabre is housed within a 17th century Jesuit college and an 18th century Hotel de Ville brought together in a maze by a series of 19th century extensions.  It is as big as it sounds.   The current exhibition, touring from the Grand Palais in Paris, presents the works of Odilon Redon, a forerunner of the Impressionists, known for his fascination with the imaginary.

Odilon Redon, Crying Spider, 1881. Image via www.odilonredon.net

Redon is not an artist with whom I was familiar and I wasn’t sure what to expect but the exhibition is striking.  The opening curved rooms are painted dark blue, encouraging visitors to move around the space.  Although the rooms themselves are quite dark, all the works are well lit.  Peepholes allow previews of what is to come and, importantly, all the wall labels are in both English and French (this did deny me the chance to show that a summer course at L’institut was not a waste but I’m sure there will be other opportunities).

Redon exhibition, Musée Fabre. Own photograph.

Redon’s work presents dreamlike visions.  He had an affinity with the ideas of Edgar Allan Poe and many of his early works were inspired by Poe’s writing.  But he did not intend to recreate the scenes and, instead, his works were independent and freely created.

His most well-known work is Homage to Goya.  Although this series does not actually have any formal borrowings from Goya, the title revealed Redon’s desire to draw attention to his work by following the path acclaimed by critics.  This prompted much attention from the literary circle of the time, not least acting as the trigger for his friendship with Stéphane Mallarmé.  Redon began to display works from the series individually and provoked interest from collectors and exhibition organisers.

Odilon Redon, Homage to Goya, 1885. Image via www.moma.org

The dark tonal qualities of his early works radiate originality and character through his highly individual vision and near abrasive use of his medium.  Continuing in a similar vein, one of his slightly later series was inspired by Flaubert.  Again, these were categorically not illustrations but, instead, an aesthetic encounter expressed in literature and art.  From the 1890s, colour was
introduced as a more dominant element in his work and this swiftly became a permanent transition as he began to experiment with new forms.  For me, here, his works lose some of their mystique.

Mid-way through the exhibition the walls change to a deep rust orange colour; this denotes a shocking change in style as Redon took a renewed interest in the decorative arts, prompted by commissions from his growing circle of patrons.  Although his love of flora now becomes evident, he still extolled fantasy and undertook the decorative path simply with no excess or fuss.  This is far too drastic a change from his earlier work for me and from this point on the exhibition (or rather his oeuvre) becomes disjointed and a little confusing.  That said, there are some gorgeous works including one very unusual portrait that shows a delicate sympathy to his sitter.

Odilon Redon, Portrait of Marie Botkine, 1906-07. Image via http://picasaweb.google.com

The exhibition is beautifully curated and the changing colours of the walls serve well to show the developments of Redon’s career.  Upstairs, displayed on mustard yellow, Redon’s later works focus more on his interest in spirituality while continuing an evocation of the dream-like imagination and an interest in Classical mythology.  Gustave Fayet, one of Redon’s best patrons, bought Fontfroide Abbey (a gorgeous site and definitely worth a visit – I went last summer) and undertook its restoration.  He commissioned the library décor from Redon who created the large panels Day and Night as a synthesis of all his ideas.  The interior rooms of the Abbey have been specially opened for the course of this exhibition.

Fontfroide Abbey. Own photograph.

As I said, Musée Fabre is extensive and the permanent collections include works by all the French greats – there’s Géricault, Delacroix, David, Ingres, to name but a few.  The Soulages’ rooms present a more shocking contrast to the traditional space of the gallery; lit by a wall of translucent glass, many of the works are suspended in space, their startling black highlighted by the white walls.

Soulages at the Musée Fabre. Own photograph.

With the sun shining and beckoning me outside, it was hard to give these galleries the time they deserved but Musée Fabre is definitely worth a visit if you’re ever in, or near, Montpellier.

After wonderful crêpes in the Place de la Comédie, I headed to the Pavillon Populaire, just across the Esplanade from the Favre, for their Brassaï exhibition.  I have written about Brassaï fairly recently as he is one of the ‘greats’ included in the RA’s Hungarian photography exhibition and so I shall not go into too much detail about his work again.

Place de la Comédie, Montpellier. Own photograph.

This exhibition focuses on the artist in America in 1957.  As known from his famous Paris photography, Brassaï enjoyed looking at a city’s undercurrents and photographing prostitutes, drug addicts and seedy music halls as well as the better-known attractions.  In this way, he set himself apart from other artists of the time.  Perfectly displayed here in groups, his short exposures capture an amazing spontaneity – many of the shots have been captured in quick succession showing movement or the progression of time, often in comic ways that reveal remarkable insight into the mind of the artist.

Brassaï en Amérique, 1957. Image via www.paris-art.com

Again, different sections of the exhibition have different wall colours, a stylish presentation that the French pull off with aplomb.  Brassaï was a very talented photographer with an incredible eye.  His photographs of people from behind show a remarkable intimacy and offer a new perspective on city life.

It was time to head into Marseillan and have a siesta before cocktail hour!

Marseillan sunset.  Own photograph.

Odilon Redon, Prince du rêve, 1840-1916 is at the Musée Fabre until 16 October 2011, http://museefabre-en.montpellier-agglo.comBrassaï en Amérique 1957 is at the Pavillon Populaire until 13 October 2011, http://www.montpellier.fr/506-les-expos-du-pavillon-populaire.htm.

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