Tag Archives: Lucian Freud

2012 Highlights

27 Dec

When it comes picking my highlights of the last year, I am impossibly indecisive – as ever there have been been the usual disappointments but there have been a fair few stunners in the arts calendar.  I can’t believe how many shows I’ve seen but I also feel I’ve missed a lot – if only there were a few more hours in every day.

As I did last year, I’ve chosen the exhibitions that stand out for me as being remarkable; they include stunning art work, and are interesting and well-curated.  Here we go…

Triumphant at Tate – Way back in February, I visited Yayoi Kusama at Tate Modern and I can still vividly picture the exhibition.  Kusama has always been ahead of her time – her work is beautiful, innovative and ground-breaking.  The exhibition worked broadly chronologically with each sequence of rooms studying the emergence of a new artistic stance.

Kusama

Yayoi Kusama, I’m Here, but Nothing, 2000. Own photograph.

Radiant at the Royal Academy  – while the rest of the world is still raving about Bronze, the RA’s highlight for me was their exhibition Johan Zoffany RA: Society Observed.  I admit that, as an 18th century art historian, I may be slightly biased but through these 60 or so works, the RA successfully argued his importance to the artistic culture and heritage of his time.

Zoffany

Johan Zoffany, Three Sons of John, Third Earl of Bute and Three Daughters of John, Third Earl of Bute, 1763-4. Own photograph.

Nailing It at the National GallerySeduced by Art is still on show at the National Gallery and is an unmissable exhibition.  This divided opinion but, for me, it was a stunning and enthralling.  Seduced by Art is not a survey, nor a history of photography.  Instead, it offers an argument and dialogue that presents historical painting, alongside historical photography, alongside contemporary photographs. The National Gallery has had a strong year and I feel its Metamorphosis: Titian 2012 (with Wallinger’s Diana in particular) is also worthy of mention.

The Destroyed Room, 1978

Jeff Wall, The Destroyed Room. Image courtesy of the National Gallery of Canada and via www.ng-london.org.uk.

Leaving LondonEdward Burra at Pallant House was the first major show for over 25 years of the artist’s works in which Burra is finally awarded a smidgeon of the recognition he deserves.  It offered an opportunity to study his extraordinary creativity.

Burra

Edward Burra, The Snack Bar, 1930. Image via www.tate.org.uk.

Also with podium finishes were:

Glistening GoldMondrian||Nicholson: In Parallel, The Courtauld Gallery

This explored the creative relationship between Mondrian and Nicholson, charting the parallel paths explored by these two artists during the 1930s.  It was a far more contemporary show than we would normally expect from The Courtauld and it successfully changed the gallery aesthetic, pairing two artists who many wouldn’t otherwise have realised are connected.

Composition C (No.III) with Red, Yellow and Blue

Piet Mondrian, Composition C (no. III), with Red, Yellow and Blue, 1935. Image courtesy of Mondrian/Holtzman Trust and via www.courtauld.ac.uk.

Scintillating SilverNowhere Less Now, Tin Tabernacle

Artangel’s commission by Lindsay Seers, took place in the Tin Tabernacle; Nowhere Less Now was a poignant amalgam of film, photography, sculpture, performance, animation, philosophy and writing.  Its complexities still offer food for thought many months afterwards.

Tin Tab

The Tin Taberacle. Own photograph.

Brilliant BronzePainting from Life: Carracci Freud, Ordovas

Having successfully juxtaposed Bacon and Rembrandt in the past, Ordovas knows how to get its shows right: Painting from Life was a tiny exhibition bringing together head studies by Carracci and Freud.  This was an intimate, simple and stunning juxtaposition.

Ordovas

Ordovas. Image via www.ordovasart.com.

Last but by no means least – Runner Up  – Alberto Burri: Form and Matter, Estorick Collection of Modern Italian Art

Before this exhibition, I didn’t really know who Burri was but he is undoubtedly a master of the 20th century who revolutionised the vocabulary of post-war art.  From the simplest materials, Burri was able to create something monumental and striking, imbued with energy and movement.

6. Burri White Cretto 1975

Alberto Burri, White Cretto, 1975. Image courtesy of the Fondazione Palazzo Albizzini, Collezione Burri and Città di Castello and via www.estorickcollection.com.

But, there was also David Shrigley: Brain Activity at the Hayward Gallery, Leonardo da Vinci: Anatomist at the Queen’s Gallery, Rothko/Sugimoto: Dark Paintings and Secrets at Pace London, Tim Lewis: Mechanisms at Flowers, Doris Salcedo at White Cube and Louse Bourgeois: The Return of the Repressed at The Freud Museum and numerous great little shows at Josh Lilley.

I’m sure I’ve forgotten lots of gems.  We are so fortunate to have such varied and high calibre art to admire on our doorstep.  It’s so easy to get from gallery to gallery however precarious your footwear may be and, of course, there’s always a taxi around the corner.

It seems only fitting to include some of my favourite shoe pictures from the past year and to thank my principal shoe photographer (you know who you are).

shoes (3)

P1050311

P1050373 - Copy

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shoes (4)

Shoes

shoes (2)

Thank you, as ever, for reading Artista.  I hope you had a very Merry Christmas and wish you all a Happy Shoe Year.

Ski boots

Frieze Fever and Frenzy: Too Many Galleries to Count

14 Oct

The week just gone is affectionately known by the art world as Frieze week – it is when Frieze (and this year Frieze Masters) takes over Regent’s Park and art lovers flock to London from across the world.  Frieze is accompanied by a host of other fairs (my favourite, and the most stylish, being PAD) as well as gallery openings that compete with each other on every night of the week.

Monday night saw the opening of PAD – the most chic and classy fair by far.  As I don’t ever write about fairs all I will say is that, although we were there for a considerable amount of time, I felt I needed to go back.  I also fell in love with numerous pieces including a Gerrit Rietveld Billet Chair from 1927.

Gerrit Rietveld, Billet Chair, 1927.  Image via www.pad-fairs.com

From PAD, we strolled out the square planning to go to Gagosian.  But the opening was at Britannia Street not Davies Street.  Oops!  Peering through the window we could see the Penone exhibition but not get near the works.  One black cross for me.  Next we tried Ordovas which my Frieze companion assured me was open.  One black cross for him.

Post PAD… Own photograph.

So, with very tired feet (well mine were already and it was only Monday) we went to Stephen Friedman who are exhibiting works by Tom Friedman (no relation).  Friedman’s work explores everyday objects, elevating the mundane beyond its original purpose to extraordinary new forms.  He deconstructs ideas and materials, rebuilding them into sculptural or artistic forms with a new level of genius.  What we think we see and what we actually see are very different things.

Tom Friedman at Stephen Freidman Gallery.  Image via www.stephenfriedman.com

The main gallery space holds the biggest and the best work in this exhibition – a mass of tangled wires that take over the entire room.  As we move around the installation, we can see the hidden silhouettes of human figures and faces trapped within the forms, interlocked within the wires, emerging and evaporating depending on our position.  Friedman is obsessive and, for every piece, he distils each material back to its essence and rebuilds it, presenting a new structure that crosses between the mundane and the magical.

Tom Friedman at Stephen Freidman Gallery.  Image via www.stephenfriedman.com

Everyone is opening a blockbuster this week (which makes this time of year both amazing and horrendous) and the National Gallery has gone for Richard Hamilton who was still planning this exhibition days before his death last year.  The painted white walls present a very modern space in the middle of this traditional gallery.  Previewing on Tuesday, the same day as Frieze, the exhibition is a powerful statement of intent – this is Hamilton challenging the art world.  It traces several themes of Hamilton’s career from the 1980s until his death, showing how he was moving towards a more traditional iconography at the end of his life.

The exhibition allows us to study his engagement with Marcel Duchamp, particularly in his works looking at the nude descending the staircase (addressed here in two works).   The works are perfectly executed but have a sense of disquiet; they are quite hard to read, it is often very ambiguous as to what we are looking at.

Richard Hamilton exhibition at the National Gallery. Own photograph.

Hamilton was one of the great experimenters with the computer, creating images that were entirely new, clean and crisp.  This exhibition of his work shows areas of interest that had obsessed him for so long.  One series of works remained unfinished at the time of Hamilton’s death – a trio of inket prints that visualise a moment from Balzac’s The Unknown Masterpiece, telling the story of a painter who loses his mind trying to achieve the perfect nude.   Hamilton knew he would not live to finish the work and made the decision that the exhibition would culminate in the initial presentation of these three large-scale variations.  We will never really know what Hamilton intended and this makes us sombre and reflective.  Each work features Courbet, Poussin and Titian contemplating a reclining female nude.  For me, these works would still be mysterious even if they were finished but, in this state, they just leave us to wonder.

Richard Hamilton exhibition at the National Gallery. Own photograph.

These later paintings aren’t my favourite Hamiltons – they are quite clinical in parts – but there is no denying that this is a beautiful, and surprisingly moving, exhibition.  Seemingly simple, there is so much going on; the paintings lead into one another, as the ideas progress from work to work.

Next, I headed down the road to Hauser & Wirth Piccadilly who are showing Fire by Days – paintings by the New York-based Rita Ackermann.  The idea for these resulted from an accident, a paint spillage on the floor of her studio that she was hastily forced to clean.  It was through these splurges of paint that she began to see suggestions of forms, abstracted but also figurative.  The works are very striking in this space, their strong and vibrant colours complementing the style of the room.  The pages from Ackermann’s sketchbooks, upstairs on the wood panelling of the American Room, look as if they have always been there.  There is nothing wrong with this exhibition but it failed to move me or make enough of an impact (rather like several things recently).

Rita Ackermann at Hauser & Wirth.  Image via www.royalacademy.org.uk

Continuing down Piccadilly to White Cube Mason’s Yard, I popped in to see Magnus Plessen – another artist who oscillates between abstraction and figuration.  Figurative elements cry out to us but they are juxtaposed with abstract passages that seek to disorientate the viewer.  Plessen’s techniques are the most interesting aspect of his work – he often physically turns the canvas to reposition and confound the arrangement of the piece.  It appears that he has scraped away the paint in parts using gestural washes of colour over heavier oils to muddle the picture planes.  With psychedelic acid yellows and hot pinks, there is often too much going to fully understand his intentions.  The show is well-curated and the works are afforded a lot of space – they need a white cube to shine which is exactly what has been allowed to happen here.

Magnus Plessen upstairs at White Cube.  Own photograph.

My list was looking daunting as the day hurried by and I headed up to Pace, the newly opened New York gallery which is now housed in the west wing of the Royal Academy’s Burlington Gardens’ space.  They have juxtaposed the paintings of Mark Rothko with the seascape photographs of Hiroshi Sugimoto.  The eight Rothkos included here make use of a limited palette of predominantly black and grey while the Sugimoto’s use a similar grey-scale colour scheme.  The artists form an aesthetic and quite superficial dialogue that, at times, becomes more of a battle.  It is a stunning exhibition that prompts interesting comparisons – another simple show that achieves its aims stylishly without any fuss.  Pace claim not to have opened in London sooner as they hadn’t found the right person to run the gallery or the right space – well they certainly seem to have hit the nail on the head here and I’m sure they will prove themselves during their four-year tenure.

Pace London. Image via www.manoelabowles.com

After visiting a few shops on Regent Street (to give my brain a well-needed art break), I headed to Savile Row where Thomas Houseago has taken over both of Hauser & Wirth’s gallery spaces there.

Heading to Hauser. Own photograph.

He has chosen not just to split the works between the two galleries but also to give the two spaces different titles: I‘ll be Your Sister (in the North Gallery) comes from a very raw Motorhead song while Special Brew is a strong beer that Houseago used to drink every day before school, getting drunk and avoiding normal school-time activities.  It allowed him to step outside the box.  The North Gallery presents his monumental sculptures, intentionally big and messy, these works have the wow-factor.  His works are brutally straightforward but still manage to appear mysterious and unworldly.  Houseago spends a lot of time drawing and planning the process of his work and this is evident in the highly-textured surfaces that resemble sketching.  The scale in the North Gallery is far more impactful than that in the South and the works are actually causing passers-by to stop and gape.

Thomas Houseago’s I’ll be Your Sister. Own photograph.

By nature of the sheer overload that is Frieze week, I’m having to be brief in my descriptions.  Most of these exhibitions deserve more time and attention but this overview of my mad run around London should give you a taster.

Just over the road, Ordovas are presenting Painting from Life: Carracci Freud, a tiny exhibition that brings together a group of head studies by Annibale Carracci and Lucian Freud.  This is a beautiful juxtaposition – intimate, simple and stunning.  Ordovas knows how to get their shows right and this rare collaboration between them and a public art collection (Dulwich Picture Gallery has loaned a work) shows the esteem in which this gallery is held.  The connections between Freud and Carracci have never before been explored but comparisons reveal intriguing affinities in technique, style, viewpoint and subject.  This isn’t the gallery’s first show of this type as they previously juxtaposed Bacon and Rembrandt and attracted over 10,000 visitors in their first month alone!

Ordovas. Image via www.ordovasart.com

The second of three New York galleries to open in London is David Zwirner (I’ve still not managed to pop into Michael Werner but hope to do so next week).  The gallery has certainly chosen a statement show of Luc Tuymans’ work with which to open their 18th century Grafton Street townhouse.  What a way to inaugurate this space.  Again, the gallery knows how to keep it simple, allowing the paintings space to breathe and space to be viewed.  Tuymans has lacked a proper presence in London since his 2004 Tate Modern retrospective but things are changing.  Allo! is inspired by The Moon and Sixpence, a film loosely based on the life of Paul Gauguin.  But Tuymans’ interest in this topic has to do with a general negation of modernism and Hollywood’s long-standing idealisation of the artist as a romantic savage.  This gallery adds a frisson of excitement to the already vibrant area – Dover Street and Grafton Street only continue to improve.

Luc Tuymans’ exhibition at David Zwirner’s new gallery.  Image via www.davidzwirner.com

After a very late lunch, I headed to Gagosian Gallery on Davies Street to see the Giuseppe Penone exhibition I’d planned to see on Monday night.  I seem to have seen a lot of Penone recently.  Here, he has engaged with the long narrow space of the Davies Street gallery, filling it with Pelle di foglie—sguardo incrociato, a large-scale standing sculpture comprised of delicately arranged tree branches and leaves defined in bronze.  Positioned to conceal a human face, two long branches jut outwards in place of the eyes in a projective act of looking, recalling Penone’s long-held fascination with the process of seeing.  It’s only a small show but, if you like Penone, then it’s worth popping in.

Gisueppe Penone, detail of Pelle di foglie—sguardo incrociato.  Image via www.arttribune.com

Further along the road at Gimpel Fils is Shana Moulton’s Preventation, a series of news videos in the on-going saga of Cynthia, her alter-ego.  The films are accompanied by a number of the artworks that feature in her films.

I was nearly all art-ed out for the day but had a final stop for the opening of Tess Jaray’s Mapping the Unseeable at The Piper Gallery.  This exhibition is definitely worth a visit partly to see how paintings need to be appreciated first-hand for the full experience.  Jaray has always maintained a fascination with geometry, pattern, colour and repetition culminating in her distinctive, subtle yet penetrating works.  As with many of the works I saw on Tuesday, Jaray plays with a carefully wrought tension between opposites: serenity and intensity, silence and sound, stasis and motion and two and three dimensions.  The exhibition includes over twenty identically-sized works from Jaray’s recent series, After Malevich; inspired by Malevich’s Red Square, they have an energy and intensity that grabs you as soon as you enter.  Despite the vast number of openings on Tuesday night, the gallery was packed!

Peaking into Tess Jaray’s Mapping the Unseeable.  Image via www.thepipergallery.com

Wednesday was my fairs day and, as well as a return trip to PAD, I spent time at Frieze and Frieze Masters which took up most of the day and evening.  But, I did make a small window to pop to The Courtauld for a private tour of their Peter Lely exhibition.  Lely is an important artist in British history but I don’t actually think very many people are familiar with, or excited by, his work so this is a brave choice of exhibition from The Courtauld.  Lely was appointed Principal Painter to Charles II in 1661 and his paintings define the glamour and debauchery of the period.  The works in this exhibition, however, concentrate on the period in the 1640s and 1650s when he was working in England, painting pastoral landscapes and large-scale narratives.  The exhibition is organised around The Courtauld’s own unfinished The Concert – originally thought to depict Lely and his family, it seems to be a highly personal and allegorical interpretation of Music in the service of Beauty.  This particular piece hasn’t been on display for a while and it’s nice to have the opportunity to view it in the context of other similar works.

Peter Lely, detail of The Concert. Own photograph.

The Courtauld is making the most of this exhibition with a Lely-fest; two other Lely’s are on show downstairs and room 12 boasts a display of drawings from Lely’s own celebrated and rare collection.

What this week has proved is how effective simple exhibitions can be.  Exhibited on putty-coloured walls with beautifully focused lighting, this exhibition gets it right.  Lely is a confusing artist with a mixture of styles that often betray his Flemish origins.  The paintings on show here are far more powerful than his Court portraiture of later years and this is another winner from The Courtauld.

Lely exhibition at The Courtauld. Own photograph.

Thursday was my final day of rushing round fairs and exhibitions and the evening saw two conveniently close openings on Riding House Street.  You may remember that I wrote about visiting Nick Goss’s studio a while ago.  I popped back a couple of weeks ago to see his new works and, as a result, was ridiculously excited by the prospect this exhibition.  The works here concentrate on portrayals of two different kinds of space – rehearsal spaces and the artist’s studio – where Goss seeks to investigate the detritus associated with the spaces used when playing in a band.  Cheap and simple, the limitations of these rooms allow creativity to flourish which promulgates the development of musical ideas.  Yet, devoid of players and instruments, the spaces have an uncharacteristic, melancholic atmosphere.  Goss has developed the theme of the shabby rehearsal space in a study of fakery and idealisation, filled with a sense of nostalgia and an elusive sensibility.  His are beautiful works, subtle paintings that pull you into his unique world.

Nick Goss’s new works at Josh Lilley. Image via www.joshlilleygallery.com

Over the road at TJ Boulting is an exhibition by Juliana Leite; her new work stems from consistent investigations into the physical action of her own body in space.  The centrepiece is a large sculpture, of two separate latex forms joined in the centre; describing the artist’s movement up and down a staircase, the piece strikes a resonance with Marcel Duchamp’s Nude descending a staircase (a common theme this week).  The two parts were cast from a large mould composed of a set of stairs covered with a wooden tunnel, slowly lined with clay.  The work is immense and we are drawn to walk around it, exploring its textures and crevices several times before we feel we have understood its form.

Juliana Leite’s impressive new sculpture.  Image via www.tjboulting.com

Even thinking about the week just gone slightly exhausts me.  I have seen such a wealth of incredible art (some not so incredible too) and I have the sorest feet to show for it.  I still have 12 exhibitions to cover that I didn’t manage to have the time for, I’d have loved to get to the other art fairs and I would have relished more time at the fairs I did explore.  But, there are only a set number of hours in the week and I think I didn’t do badly!

Tom Friedman is at Stephen Friedman Gallery until 10th November 2012, www.stephenfriedman.comRichard Hamilton: The Late Works is at the National Gallery until 13th January 2013, www.nationalgallery,org.ukRita Ackermann: Fire by Days is at Hauser & Wirth Piccadilly until 3rd November 2012, www.hauserwirth.comMagnus Plessen: Riding the Image is at White Cube Mason’s Yard until 10th November 2012, www.whitecube.comRothko/Suginoto: Dark Paintings and Secrets is at Pace London until 17th November 2012, www.pacegallery.comThomas Houseago: I’ll be Your Sister and Special Brew are at Hauser & Wirth Savile Row until 27th October 2012, www.hauserwirth.comPainting from Life: Carracci Freud is at Odovas until 15th December 2012, www.ordovasart.comLuc Tuymans: Allo! Is at David Zwirner until 17th November, www.davidzwirner.comGiuseppe Penone: Intersecting Gaze / Sguardo Incrociato is at Gagosian Davies Street until 24th November 2012, www.gagosian.comShana Moulton: Prevention is at Gimpel Fils until 17th November 2012, www.gimpelfils.comTess Jaray – Mapping the Unseeable is at The Piper Gallery until Friday 9th November 2012, www.thepipergallery.comPeter Lely: A Lyrical Vision is at The Courtauld Gallery until 13th January 2012, www.courtauld.ac.ukNick Goss – Tin Drum is at Josh Lilley Gallery until Friday 23rd November 2012, www.joshlilleygallery.comJuliana Cerqueira Leite: Portmanteau is at TJ Boulting until 10th November 2012, www.tjboulting.com.

Two days left to catch the Burra Bug

17 Feb

By now, you’ve probably all seen the documentary and read about the Edward Burra exhibition which opened at Pallant House in October.  Various things have conspired against me and yesterday I realised how close I had come to missing this show.  So, off I went on a very Mini Adventure.  If I can’t take the car via the Strand and Waterloo Bridge then I tend to navigate via The Stoop (Harlequins’ home ground) and this was the way I zoomed yesterday.

This is the first major show for over 25 years of Burra’s works and he is finally getting a smidgeon of the recognition he deserves.  As well as his work being included in Tate Britain’s watercolour show, Zoot Suits fetched a record £1.8 million at Sotheby’s sale of the Evill/Frost Collection.  But, the art world elite have always been aware of his work.  It’s to everyone else that he has remained a mystery.

Edward Burra, Zoot Suits, 1948.  Image via www.voltcafe.com

The Edward Burra exhibition provides an opportunity to study Burra’s extraordinary creativity.  Burra was remarkable; suffering from severe arthritis and rheumatism, he was barely able to move his claw-like hands at the end of his life and grasped a paintbrush with his swollen fist.  Serious anaemia also left him debilitated and subject to collapse with no energy but, notwithstanding his constant ill health, he never wanted to be defined by this as it was something that he abhorred.  Burra was fortunate to be born to a wealthy family and to have humour and an indomitable spirit, qualities that allowed him to rise above his many illnesses.  For Burra, art was his drug and his escape; the only time that he didn’t feel any pain was when he was painting.

Edward Burra, The Snack Bar, 1930. Image via www.tate.org.uk

Burra lived in Rye, Sussex but he travelled far and wide drawing inspiration from diverse sources, creating complex artworks often redolent of the time in which he lived.  His sharp eye combined with a love and knowledge of art history that is often evident in his works.  He was fascinated by modern urban life – the cheap glamour of tarts and prostitutes who congregated in the Mediterranean seaports and the boulevards of Montparnasse and by the black culture he saw in Harlem where he was intoxicated by the violent colour, noise and heat.

Edward Burra, Harlem, 1934. Image via www.tate.org.uk

Apart from his collages, almost all of Burra’s incredible works are executed in watercolour and he was one of the most skilled exponents of the medium.  Initially, it’s hard to believe that they are not painted in tempera as the handling of the medium is so tight and the works lack the fluidity and tonal quality one would normally associate with watercolour.  It’s probable that he worked so heavily with this medium as it allowed him to paint at a table rather than being forced to stand at an easel.

Edward Burra, The Straw Man, 1963. Image via www.guardian.co.uk.  

Burra is an eccentric artist who resists categorisation.  The characters in his paintings jump out at you from their frames.  His compositions are often playful, provocative and powerful – nowhere else will you find such dynamism and life.   The Danse Macabre works look at Burra’s experimentation with collage; his strange composite beings are almost Surrealist and further heighten the confusion as to what movement Burra should be ‘shoved’ into.

Edward Burra, Dancing Skeletons, 1934. Image via www.tate.org.uk

The Pallant House exhibition is ordered by theme – High Art/Low Culture, Danse Macabre, A Sense of Unease, The Sussex Landscape, Late Landscapes and Painting The Stage – which works quite well because it is hung in relatively small rooms off the main gallery space.   It’s a difficult exhibition space to work and although a thematic display is successful sometimes the rooms feel too isolated and self-contained.

Most of the works here are on loan from private collections and are rarely seen.  The exhibition includes some very unusual Burra works, particularly the Sussex landscapes with which I wasn’t really familiar; these are rare as the majority of Burra’s work did not deal with Britain.  The room of Late Landscapes includes Burra’s painting materials and colour tests from the ’70s. Amidst these is an envelope that had become a testing page and a shopping list; in his distinctive writing Burra has scrawled ‘anchovies, paste, sardines, coffee, BRD, 4 batterys, savlon’.   This is a really lovely human detail.  In fact, as I write there is an envelope next to me that I have commandeered as a to-do list.

Edward Burra, Landscape near Rye, 1934-5. Image via www.pallant.org.uk

Burra was able to create an incredible atmosphere of suspense with heightened drama.  Although his subject altered radically over the years, there is always a sense that something isn’t quite right as he imbues even happy scenes with a sinister quality.  His works are humorous but disquieting, both comic but tragic; we are always left with questions and never quite know what Burra wanted us to think.  But that is the point.  After all, he famously said that he never ‘never tell[s] anybody anything’ so he wanted us to work it out for ourselves – or maybe not.

I was pleased to see how busy the exhibition was.  It is Burra’s seedy depictions of social scenes that grab us, opening windows into the underbelly of a world we have not visited.  John Rothenstein suggested that they may ‘constitute the most grand and the most vivid interpretation of the least reputable seams of society by any painter of our time’.  Although I’d have liked to see a few more of his idiosyncratic bustling urban scenes, the exhibition is great to allow an overview of the Burra that few people know.

Edward Burra, Three Sailors at a Bar, 1930. Image via www.hh-h.com

I’m not sure you’d leave Chichester loving Burra if you don’t already but if you have the Burra bug, like me, then it’s definitely worth rushing down to this.  I hope that before too long there will be another opportunity to talk more about Burra but, right now with only two days left, I urge you to jump on the train or head over via The Stoop and see his work for yourself.

Edward Burra is at Pallant House Gallery until 19th February 2012.  Also, in room four is a small David Dawson exhibition which includes his wonderfully intimate photos of Freud – some of which are at the NPG – and his own lesser known paintings.  David Dawson: Working with Lucian Freud is on until 20th May 2012, www.pallant.org.uk.

Getting to know Lucian Freud…

8 Feb

Although Lucian Freud died last year, the exhibition of his work at the National Portrait Gallery is very much a living show, a survey curated in collaboration with the artist.  This is not meant to be a tribute show or a memorial retrospective and the NPG did not try to change the feeling of the hang they were working on with him.

Instead, it is a show spanning seven decades of Freud’s portraiture and it does this beautifully.  Paintings of people were central to Freud and, indeed, he felt that all of his works were portraits.

Lucain Freud, Girl with a White Dog, 1950-1. Image via www.guardian.co.uk

The exhibition comprises 130 works from which it is possible to trace Freud’s stylistic development and his movement towards a denser application of paint.  It starts with the early works – head and shoulders portraits where an often alarming tension permeates the canvas as though Freud had not quite become comfortable with his own hand.  In the mid-1950s, when he began using stiffer hogshair brushes and loosening his style, he also started to work standing up – a drastic change for an artist who had always painted while sitting down, in a confined space.  From here on, you can feel his work become more alive and energetic as he moves around the canvas and uses his whole body to paint.  After Freud stood up, he said he never sat down again.  This is the start of the Freud that we truly know.  The canvases then increase in size from the 1980s when he seems to offer himself and his sitters breathing space.

Lucian Freud at the National Portrait Gallery. Own photograph.

Broadly chronological, the exhibition begins in 1940 with a portrait of Cedric Morris, Freud’s tutor at the East Anglian School of Painting and Drawing; it ends with the unfinished work that was on his easel when he died.  For many, this final piece will be the highlight – a huge unfinished portrait of David Dawson – Freud’s studio assistant and closest friend – with his whippet, Eli.  Portrait of the Hound is a deeply affectionate work, showing the intimacy between artist and sitter, their mutual understanding and respect.  Both the dog and Dawson are completely relaxed in Freud’s presence.

Lucian Freud, Portrait of the Hound, 2011. Image via www.artknowledgenews.com

Enough has been written about Freud’s many lovers and children that I do not feel the need to discuss Freud himself in depth – I don’t want to detract from what an amazing exhibition this is.  This is Freud’s life in paint showing the cast of fascinating characters he met along the way.  With sittings often taking several months (some even years), the works are a result of Freud’s intimate study and concentration.  His relationship with the sitters is often attributable to the success and fame of his portraits.

Lucian Freud, Nude with Leg Up, 1992. Own photograph.

The show includes many of Freud’s well-known works such as portraits of Francis Bacon, Leigh Bowery and Sue Tilley.  Benefits Supervisor Sleeping, one of his many paintings of Big Sue, set a world record of £22m when it sold in 2008.  I was lucky enough to see Sue, posing in front of the three portraits of her including in the exhibition.  Her vivacity and larger than life personality was infectious and seeing one of Freud’s sitters up close brought new meaning to the work.  His truthfulness is inescapable.  Freud’s expert depiction of flesh (acres of which can be seen on show here) was in part attributable to his use of Cremnitz white – a dry pigment with a stiff consistency (it has so much lead content that the tube weighs twice as much as normal) that he began to use the mid-1970s.

Sue Tilley posing in front of one of her portraits. Own photograph.

Usually when I go round an exhibition, I make copious notes but this art is so incredible that it speaks for itself.  I’m not trying to discredit the critics who find that a biographical approach is inevitable when discussing Freud or the many excellent monographs on his life which have told me so much about Freud over the years but, here, you must just look and revel in the opportunity that is being afforded you and give his work the close attention it deserves.  It is an intimate exhibition and the scale of some of the smaller rooms is intended to mimic the scale of his studio.

Lucian Freud, Interior with Plant, Reflection Listening (Self-Portrait), 1967-8. Own photograph.

My only criticism, and this is really a sign of the exhibition’s greatness. is that it will be too busy.  It was even a scrum at the preview this morning.  The works deserve quiet solitude but the small rooms here are going to be unbearable at peak times.  This criticism, however, just shows how incredible Freud is.  He deserves the heaving throngs that will fill the NPG from tomorrow.

Lucian Freud, detail of Reflection (Self-portrait), 1985. Image via www.dawn.com.

This is a living exhibition; Freud’s paintings allow us to see the real people behind the paint with human frailty at its most magnified.  There’s no hiding in a Freud, no distractions – the works are compositionally simple and successful.  He scrutinises every detail and the intensity of some of his paintings still has the power to shock us 40 years on.

There are many works here that we know but far more that we don’t.  This show is a triumph.  Most people can recognise a Freud but, until this exhibition, I don’t think many could understand the evolution of his painting.

Lucian Freud Portraits is at the National Portrait Gallery from tomorrow until 27th May 2012, www.npg.org.uk.

 

Haunch of Excellence: ten British post-war greats…plus Sprüth and Bischoff/Weiss

7 Dec

It seems impossible to walk down a street in Mayfair without bumping into a familiar art face. As a consequence, due to all the chatting, a five minute walk often takes fifteen minutes.

I did finally make my way up Dover Street and get to Sprüth Magers who are showing a series of new works by Louise Lawler.  Lawler’s photographs seek to explore the presentation of artworks and the context in which they are viewed – whether in private homes or in galleries.  Her work forces us to look at art out of its normal context, making us consider how we view, and idealise, these artworks, and questioning how our opinions are modified by the manner of display.

Louise Lawler at Sprüth. Own photograph.

The current exhibition sees Lawler photographing two works by Richter – his Mustang-Staffel and Schädel – during their installation in Dresden. Through her manipulation of the original dimensions, she questions how the art world distorts artworks.  These two new sets of work lack her usual charisma but the concept is fascinating and it is a concise, playful show.

I also popped into Bischoff Weiss’ Chain Chain Chain. I found this to be a strange show and one where it is important to understand the conceptual rationale before visiting.  Curator, Glenn Adamson, who is also co-curator of Postmodernism at the V&A, has wanted to explore this project for a long time.  Looking at art as a commodity, and the commercial status of both artists and artworks, he examines commodity fetishisation and how artists can slow down the commodity chain that flows so readily around us.

Zoe Sheehan Saldana, Adult Life-Jacket, 2008-09. Own photograph.

As well as physically referencing chain as a material (which crops up frequently in the show), the title also evokes the commodity chain itself by mimicking and underpinning it; Gyan Panchal and Nicole Cherubini’s work evokes shipping containers or packing materials through highly aestheticised objects.

The best way to understand the complex chain of Adamson’s thoughts is to hear (or rather, to read) it from the horse’s mouth and this is best done by picking up the small pamphlet that accompanies the show.

Onwards, as I headed up Bond Street in the freezing cold to Haunch of Venison for the Mystery of Appearance – the show I had been looking forward to all day. Who could not be excited by the list of post-war British artists involved?  The list of ten artists includes some of Britain’s most important painters – Michael Andrews, Frank Auerbach, Francis Bacon, Patrick Caulfield, William Coldstream, Lucian Freud, Richard Hamilton, David Hockney, Leon Kossoff and Euan Uglow.  The new front entrance to Haunch was only unveiled two days ago.  What used to be a shoe shop (how apt for me) has been transformed to become such a beautiful extension of Haunch that I can’t even pretend the loss of the shoe shop is tragic.  In fact, I can’t even now remember what shoe shop once stood here.

The new Haunch entrance on New Bond Street. Own photograph.

The title of the exhibition comes from Francis Bacon who said ‘To me, the mystery of painting today is how appearance can be made. I know it can be illustrated, I know it can be photographed. But how can this thing be made so that you catch the mystery of appearance within the mystery of making? …one knows that by some accidental brush-marks suddenly appearance comes in with a vividness that no accepted way of doing it would have brought about.’  Bacon himself here acknowledges the mystery of these artists’ genii – their ambition and the effect of their work is often mind-blowing.

Francis Bacon, Pope I – Study after Pope Innocent X by Velázquez, 1951. Image via www.haunchofvenison.com.   

The exhibition retains the artists’ individualities while introducing an enlivening conversation between them.  Yes, such conversations have taken place many times before (often in our auction houses) but, with art this great, this dialogue will never become staid.   The influence these artists still exert is sensational.   The exhibition also examines the personal relationships between the artists themselves some of which began in the late forties.

Upstairs at Haunch with David Hockney, The Room Tarzana, 1967. Own photograph.

Several of the works have come from major public galleries while some of the pieces from private collections have not been on display in years.  With the recent sad deaths of Freud and Hamilton this show is timely and poignant.  The exhibition does not pretend to be an overview – more of a personal selection by the curator.

Richard Hamilton, Respective, 1951. Own photograph.

Opening with a selection of nudes, in the second gallery the exhibition moves onto landscapes and portraits.  These are followed by a focus on the special significance of the Old Masters to the artists, concluding with a focus on their interpretation of space and lens-based imagery.  What this exhibition does is highlight quality and excellence, re-evaluating this group of incredible artists – their motives, their stories and, most importantly here, their conversations.  Hours after the PV, I’m still struggling to pick a favourite – the sheer power of the Bacon, the textured dynamism of the Auerbach, the delicacy of the Freud portraits or the sensitivity of the Hamilton drawings…  All the works are sublime.

Leon Kossoff, Seated Woman No. 2, 1959. Own photograph.

The catalogue with essays by Catherine Lampert and Tom Hunt is equally stunning and the perfect companion to the show.  Although some of the relationships or conversations remain elusive, the paintings are all brought together by a sense of timeliness and a commitment to their medium through which the study of the human condition is touching and powerful.

Mystery of Appearance at Haunch of Venison. Own photograph.

Mystery of Appearance is a beautiful exhibition and one that I will certainly return to during the daytime when I can further appreciate the works flooded by natural light from the Haunch skylights.  But, in the meantime, wow!

Louise Lawler: No Drones is at Sprüth Magers until 23rd December 2011, www.spruethmagers.comChain Chain Chain is at Bischoff/Weiss until 28th January 2012, www.bischoffweiss.comMystery of Appearance: Conversations between ten British post-war painters is at Haunch of Venison until 18th February 2012, www.haunchofvenison.com.

From West to East and a Walk in the Park – Thursday of Frieze Week

14 Oct

Thursday of Frieze week and I was already exhausted with so many things yet to see.

Walking down Savile Row, I decided to pop into a new gallery and I’m pleased I did. Pilar Ordovas made headlines earlier this year when she announced plans to open her own gallery space. She was already well-known among the art world elite, partly for organising the famous, record-breaking sale of Lucian Freud’s Benefits Supervisor Sleeping. She isn’t shy of press. Having worked at Christie’s and managed London’s Gagosian, Ordovas decided to go it alone. One of the things that will make this space successful, other than Ordovas’ skill and vision, is her access to, and unique relationships with, artists. This first exhibition perfectly highlights her past experience. Having managed the estate of Valerie Beston (the private director of the Marlborough Gallery to whom Bacon bequeathed an astonishing collection of his works) in 2006, Ordovas was able to conceive this exhibition.

Ordovas on Savile Row. Image via www.ordovasart.com

Irrational marks: Bacon and Rembrandt is a museum-quality, academic exhibition, hidden within the walls of a commercial gallery. This will be the first show to explore the connections and influences of Rembrandt’s late self-portraits and Bacon’s own self-portraits. The creative dialogue between the two artists is extraordinary. The exhibition also displays a number of working documents, found in Bacon’s studio after his death, splattered with paint, discarded after they had inspired the great artist. They are absolutely fascinating. Ordovas is certainly doing something new.

Downstairs at Ordovas on Savile Row. Image via www.ordovasart.com

An art history professor friend once asked me if I’m conservative (I don’t think he meant in the political sense). ‘Yes’, I replied. ‘And, do you like Francis Bacon?’ he asked. ‘No, I love Francis Bacon’ was my response. ‘Well, then you are definitely not conservative’. Many years on, having seen people’s often extreme reactions to Bacon’s work I more fully understand what he meant but, to me, Bacon’s works are exquisite. The style may often be grotesque but they are sublime.

25 Savile Row is a beautiful space although the ‘frosting’ in the window actually looks as if they have not finished unpacking and we were unsure if they were actually open. Directly opposite Hauser & Wirth, I don’t think the galleries will conflict with one another as they are so different. Pilar Ordovas is helping to create a new arts hub in the heart of Mayfair.

Ordovas. Own photograph.

After lunch, I headed over to Frieze which, this year, felt like a chore. With more galleries than ever before, I thought the fair was remarkably bland. Still obviously feeling the effects of this long drawn-out recession, no-one had taken any risks. The VIP day having passed, most of the gallerists weren’t that bothered by the ‘general public’ bustling past their stands. Desks piled high with coffee cups and ipads (normally about three per stand) were far more amusing than the art and I couldn’t resist capturing the ennui.

Fed up at Frieze. Own photograph.

When we finished the long trek and my fellow fair-goer said his feet were hurting, I knew my moaning was justified. My legs ached. My stilettos clacked with less vigour than usual.

With no cabs to be found, I hobbled to Haunch craving the glass of wine that awaited me. This exhibition at least perked me up again – or was that the wine? Ahmed Alsouandi is an Iraqi artist who lives in New York. He uses the grotesque to explore war and conflict and the consequences of these atrocities. His deformed figures rework, and are inspired by, greats such as Goya and Bacon.

Ahmed Alsouandi at Haunch of Venison. Own photograph.

His vivid, over-saturated, palette both enhances the horror and detracts from the subject matter in an ironically joyous tone. Whilst his many influences are apparent, his work is certainly unique and his style his own. The turbulence and disfiguration are more a comment on general human conflict and physical disruption than specific warfare. From a distance, they could be mistaken for bright abstract patterns. Get closer, and you see tortured bodies, dismembered limbs and even a lone eyeball.

I’d forgotten how great the floor here is – a wonderful dark wood that works so well with whatever they hang. My signature photo would have shown this but my friend refused to squat on the floor of one of London’s major galleries to photograph my feet. The gallery was buzzing and, considering the competition this week, that is a mark of how good this show is.

Ahmed Alsouandi at Haunch of Venison. Own photograph.

Next on my list was Flowers Gallery – not the one in Mayfair unfortunately, I like to make my life difficult. Nicola Hicks has long been recognised as an important British artist. Having exhibited with Flowers for many years now, this demonstrates how astute the gallery were in picking her as a major talent after her selection in 1984 by Elisabeth Frink for their annual Artist for the Day exhibition. Her latest exhibition, which takes over the downstairs galleries at Flowers on Kingsland Road, is a new series of plaster sculptures based on Aesop’s Fables, the well-known children’s’ stories supposedly written by a slave in Ancient Greece in the 5th century BC.

Nicola Hicks’ Aesop’s Fables at Flowers. Own photograph.

Don’t be mistaken and think Hicks is merely depicting the Fables in illustratory form, as you couldn’t be more wrong. Instead these stories act as a catalyst for her work, providing a creative springboard for her wonderful imagination. The detail is incredible – the loose, tactile nature of the plaster means these works need, and deserve, closer inspection.

Although Hicks’ works have developed over time, she has been interested in animal forms from day one. Always heartfelt, she is able to do extraordinary things to her materials and contorts plaster in fantastic ways.

All of the anthropomorphic characters from the Fables are present, frozen in time for us to admire. The creatures are loveable and endearing, a humble theme for a wonderful artist who here explores empathy and beauty in a stunning new series of work. I have always loved Hicks’ sculpture so this exhibition was a treat for me. Who couldn’t fall for her dogs, gazing lovingly out with puppy dog eyes?

One of Hicks’ gorgeous dogs. Own photograph.

Upstairs is an exhibition by artist, Simon Roberts. Roberts is obviously a talented artist – he travelled across England in a motorhome for a year from 2007-2008 photographing England at leisure. His large horizons and country scenes play on a tradition of English landscape painting, studying our national identity in turn raising key social, economic and political issues. He finds beauty in the mundane but the photographs do not stand up to the brilliance of the exhibition downstairs.

Simon Roberts, Keynes Country Park Beach, Shornecote, Gloucestershire, 11th May 2008. Image via http://we-english.co.uk/. 

I had planned to head to an exhibition at the Hospital Club but gossiping away over dinner next door and resting my weary limbs made me realise how tired I was. Or was that the wine too? Anyway, there was no chance I was going back into the West End again that night.

Irrational Marks: Bacon and Rembrandt is at Ordovas until 16th December 2011, www.ordovasart.com.  Ahmed Alsoudani is at Haunch of Venison Yard until 26th November 2011, www.haunchofvenison.com. Nicola Hicks: Aesop’s Fables and Simon Roberts: We English are both at Flowers, Kingsland Road, until 19th November 2011, www.flowersgalleries.com. For more of my Frieze photos, see www.facebook.com/chloenelkinconsulting.

Frantic at the Fringe – Part II

20 Aug

After a full Scottish breakfast, I was ready for Day Two and to carry on with my art trail.  I had allocated another morning for four galleries and I knew this was going to be tight.  Having recovered from all my walking the day before, and having seen the threatening rain clouds, I decided to stick with trainers to help speed up the day’s madness especially as my last Fringe show wasn’t scheduled to end until gone midnight.

Before you even enter the National Gallery of Modern Art, there’s plenty of opportunity to have seen Tony Cragg’s work as six of his sculptures are situated in the grounds, some amongst Charles Jencks’ Landform.  Although slightly outside the main hustle and bustle of Edinburgh’s frenetic centre, this gallery is definitely worth the cab ride (or walk or bus if you don’t have any time restraints).

Tony Cragg, Luke, 2008, and Declination, 2004. Own photograph.

 This is the first Cragg exhibition in Britain for more than a decade, focusing on two groups of works from the past 20 years.  Cragg’s Early Forms are derived from the vessel motif while the Rational Beings series is characterised by tall columnar shapes in bronze, wood, stone, plaster and steel in which facial forms appear and disappear.  Vessels are among the simplest and earliest surviving man-made forms and are important markers of past cultures.  Cragg takes these vessel types and mutates them into new forms, creating a vast array of unique sculptures.

Tony Cragg, Early Forms St Gallen, 1997. Image courtesy of the artist and via www.nationalgalleries.org.

 His works are always engaging with an element of mystery.  His biomorphic sculptures are mesmerising, encouraging visitors to explore the pieces from all angles.  The different media provide varying levels of finish, created by an incredible process of building up circular or elliptical cross-sections on a vertical axis which are then cut and shaped.  The sculptures are overtly abstract yet the figurative form always breaks through.  Cragg has studied the different facets of the human face, and here, and in his vessels series, he pushes the boundaries of repetition and re-exploration of an object.

Tony Cragg, Accurate Figure, 2010.  Image courtesy of the artist and via www.nationalgalleries.org.

 Surrounding the works are 100 or so of his drawings that offer a fascinating insight into the artist’s working process.  Cragg began his career as a laboratory assistant and at an early age used drawing as a means of understanding the experiments he was conducting.  Some of the drawings look like biometric coding recalling this past career – a series of shapes that almost seem to attack the paper.

Although his style has changed dramatically over the years, Cragg has always stuck to his guns and remained a sculptor.  He varies his media impressively at times but he has never conformed to changing tastes, he works with what he’s good at and he is a very skilled, enigmatic sculptor.

Tony Cragg. Own photograph.

 Cragg’s works are extraordinary.  The carved faces are distorted and warped, exploding with creativity and hidden facets.  That Cragg has managed to create these shape-shifters in bronze is an amazing achievement – they appear weightless, floating in space.

Tony Cragg, Distant Cousin, 2003.  Image courtesy of the artist and via www.nationalgalleries.org.

The former Dean Gallery, just across the road, has now been rebranded as Modern Art Two.  While Modern Art One is housed in an imposing neo-Classical building, designed in 1825 and used as an institute for fatherless children, Modern Art Two was built in 1833 as the Dean Orphan Hospital.  Modern Two, in partnership with the Edinburgh International Festival, is exhibiting work by Hiroshi Sugimoto, a photographer who goes back to the origins of his medium and blends art with science. As with the Tony Cragg exhibition, the gallery has presented two series of works by Sugimoto.  In the first, working from original negatives, Sugimoto is able to bring to life images by Fox Talbot that are 160 years old.  He spent several years locating and acquiring Talbot’s rare negatives and has enlarged and developed these to reveal works that are haunting, almost painterly in their evocative power.  These dimly lit, blurry images reveal ghosts of the past which Sugimoto has brought to life.  These photographs have incredible depth and you need to look deep into the works to see and grasp the image.

Hiroshi Sugimoto, Louisa Gallwey and Horatia Feilding, at Lacock Abbey, August 29, 1842, 2009.  Image courtesy of the artist and via www.nationalgalleries.org.

In his second series, Lightning Fields, Sugimoto looks at the effect of violent electrical discharges on film.  Placing the film directly on a metal plate in a dark room, Sugimoto charged a generator until he could feel the hairs on his arms stand on end, before releasing a charge of 400,000 volts.  By using this process, he has managed to freeze lightning, capturing blooms of light erupting in the darkness, frozen in time for eternity.

Hiroshi Sugimoto, Lightning Fields 168, 2009. Image courtesy of the artist and via www.nationalgalleries.org.

This is a photography exhibition yet not a single shot has been created by a camera – the works are visually striking and beautiful.

Hiroshi Sugimoto, Lightning Fields 226, 2009. Image courtesy of the artist and via www.nationalgalleries.org.

As part of the festival, Richard Wright was commissioned to create a painting in the west stairwell of the Gallery.  Wright has only made a few permanent paintings in the past and few for public buildings.  The repeated pattern in this painting recalls a bud or a flower, referencing the fleur-de-lys image.  Wright is particularly interested in the history and function of a building and the rows and rows of delicate shapes are intended to bring to mind the generations of orphans who used these stairs.

 

Richard Wright, The Stairwell Project, 2010.  Image via www.edinburghartfestival.com.

Next, with time whizzing by, we cabbed it to the Scottish National Gallery to see Dame Elizabeth Blackadder’s retrospective.  I know it seems I’ve been taking a lot of cabs (especially as I’m in flats) but, trust me, I have walked an incredible amount on this trip.

This exhibition marks the artist’s 80th birthday, spanning the six decades of her career to present her diverse body of work.   Blackadder is important in the history of female artists; she was the first woman to be elected to both the Royal Academy and the Royal Scottish Academy and, in 2001, she was honoured with the title Her Majesty the Queen’s Painter and Limner in Scotland.  The drawings from her student days are lovely and it is fascinating to see her develop an interest in the relationship between objects – hence her still lifes.  Her studies from nature are the best-known of her works (watch out for her watercolour of a pheasant, an enchanting depiction that deserves close examination) and I was surprised by the sheer range of her other subjects.  One room, for example, is dedicated solely to her visits to Japan in the 1980s and her exploration of its culture.

Elizabeth Blackadder, Grey Table with Easter Eggs. Image via www.nationalgalleries.org.

Her flower studies have long been famous and easily recognisable.  Her flower woodcuts are really superb and, in some ways, preferable to her paintings; their strength of form provides a powerful contrast to the delicacy of her watercolours.

She is an artist with a very different kind of fame to the likes of Anish Kapoor or Martin Creed and this is highlighted by the fact that the majority of these loans come from private collections.

Elizabeth Blackadder, Tulips. Image via www.nationalgalleries.org.

One thing that did irk me as I wandered around was the placement of the wall labels on the dado.  What were they doing down there?! I know I’m a stickler for labels, wall colour and all that but it looked as if the hanger had run out of time and just shoved them anywhere.

Some of Blackadder’s paintings are very sensitive offering new perspectives on familiar scenes and she has revitalised established traditions but I don’t feel this exhibition presents her in an exciting light.  She’s a great painter but it’s easy to leave this exhibition feeling nonplussed.

Elizabeth Blackadder in her studio, November 2010. Image via www.scottish-gallery.co.uk.

Downstairs, The Queen: Art & Image was absolutely packed showing people’s love for the Queen and our monarchy.   Including a wide range of works, the exhibition traces Her Majesty’s reign across six decades from the age of deference to the era of celebrity.

This is the opening site for a  touring exhibition that marks the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee next year (it will be at London’s NPG in 2012).  Including formal portraits, media photographs and contemporary responses and portraits, the works explore traditional representations and push the boundaries of the visual language of Royal portraiture.  The exhibition celebrates the incredible range of artistic creativity that the Queen has inspired.

Eve Arnold, Queen Elizabeth II. Image courtesy of the artist and Magnum Photos and via www.nationalgalleries.org.

Our Monarch is a subject of relentless visual scrutiny.  Photographers, such as Dorothy Wilding, emphasised her youth, elegance and glamour while Cecil Beaton’s Coronation photograph concentrated on her dignity and regal splendour.  Each artist has sought to capture the Queen’s different qualities.  During the 1960s, her image became more informal, creating an impression of domesticity and playing up her role as a mother.   She was shown as lively, spontaneous and fun, advancing the idea of an ‘ordinary’ monarch.  The diversity of her image in the 1990s shows the trouble the Royal Family were facing at the time.

The exhibition includes the provocative Sex Pistols’ poster God Save the Queen designed by Jamie Reid as well as works by Andy Warhol, Gilbert & George and Lucian Freud.  There is a Sugimoto photograph of the Queen’s wax mannequin and a Struth photo from this year in which I feel the Queen looks slightly uncomfortable.

Thomas Struth, The Queen and The Duke of Edinburgh, 2011. Image  courtesy of the artist and via www.nationalgalleries.org.

The Queen’s image has engaged millions over the years.  Through all the varied portrayals, one thing remains firm, her enduring loyalty to the nation, her beauty and her dignity.

The Edinburgh Art festival has grown this year.  To help showcase its diverse and incredible programme, the organisers have commissioned artist J. Maizlish to draw a map of the City and participating festival venues.  It’s gorgeous and definitely a helpful aid for people who don’t know Edinburgh very well or for those who are feeling brave and have the time to seek out all the galleries!

 

J. Maizlish, detail of Sites of the Edinburgh Art Festival, 2011. Image via www.edinburghartfestival.com.

The problem with Edinburgh in August is there is just too much to see.  Admittedly, this is a wonderful problem with which to be faced.  Art, theatre, comedy, music and literature literally spout from the city’s every pore.   I always wish I had more time in Edinburgh, there is always more I want to see. Maybe I should just stay for the month…  Bring on the 2012 Fringe.

Tony Cragg: Sculptures and Drawings is at Modern Art One until 6th November 2011, Hiroshi Sugimoto is at Modern Art Two until 25th September 2011, Richard Wright: The Stairwell Project is a permanent installation in Modern Art Two, Elizabeth Blackadder is at the Scottish National Gallery until 2nd January 2012, The Queen: Art & Image is at the Scottish National Gallery until 18th September 2011, www.nationalgalleries.org.

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