tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60151778196556195172024-03-16T00:08:32.527-07:00Graham WardGraham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.comBlogger61125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-49382637855932030422017-03-15T03:45:00.003-07:002017-03-15T11:53:01.530-07:00Buffalo Stance: The Legacy of Ray Petri<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The frills and furbelows of the short-lived New Romantic Movement having been consigned to the back pages of fashion history, a maverick collective made up of photographers, designers and artists, under the loose direction of stylist Ray Petri, quietly defined a particular look of 80's urban youth culture, the legacy of which continues to influence contemporary trends in fashion and photography to this day. Many have defined the eighties as the decade in which style dominated substance, but Petri's work under the 'Buffalo' collective was, in many senses, the antithesis of the 'matt-black designer decade with which we have come to view the decade that was to follow after the punk explosion of the seventies had irrevocably re-written the rules of style and politics. Post-punk, style magazines such as <i>The Face, I-D </i>and<i> Arena </i>began to posit Petri's work as a pointer for all that was to follow, and the blueprint for an uncompromisingly urban style that has since inspired a generation of designers, stylists and photographers who saw themselves as outside the 'normal' confines of the industry. Buffalo seemed the logical product of the do-it-yourself post-punk generation, and the antithesis of that self-serving careerism that defined much of the eighties in Britain and the United States. Initially difficult to interpret by the mainstream, the Buffalo aesthetic was first and foremost, concerned with a certain kind of hip, urban attitude that rapidly filtered into the mainstream. </div>
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Petri's vision for Buffalo can now be viewed as prophetic, shadowing as it did, contemporary fashion's 'post-gender' identity, and laid the ground for the merging of sportswear with high fashion, a trend that is now seen as universal. Construed as a multi-faceted 'state of mind', Buffalo pulled together influences from a number of seemingly random sources, melding pin-sharp, layered tailoring with the famous MA-1 flying jacket (an essential element of skinhead attire), vintage Levis and lace. Headgear was everything from bowlers to Native American war-bonnets. Nothing, it seemed, was off-limits. Hugely influential, and undoubtedly the style-bible for the decade, <i>The Face </i>defined the way we wore and heard during the heady years of its duration. Editor Nick Logan consciously steered the content of the magazine in increasingly more diverse directions, and spearheaded the still-undefined Buffalo style in many of its issues. The groundbreaking cover that featured a male model bare-chested under a military jacket and sporting a kilt with a Union Jack slung over one shoulder was to influence the likes of a generation that included Alexander McQueen and Jean Paul Gaultier, and it is more than probable that the mainstream would never have witnessed the likes of David Beckham in a skirt without Buffalo's legacy in the 1990s. Jamie Morgan, undoubtedly the most significant photographer of the Buffalo movement, was responsible for one of the most iconic covers of the magazine's history, the 'Hard' issue that featured Felix, then a 13 year-old east end boy in a formal chalk-strip jacket, knuckle-duster gloves and a feathered homberg with the legend 'Killer' cut from a 'Red-top' headline. The image was groundbreaking, and was followed by other, equally iconic covers. The 'Hot' issue saw model Nick Kaymen (forever identified with the Buffalo collective, as well as the famous Levi's ad campaign) in a skiing hat with aviator shades and whitened lips, an orange elastoplast fixed across one eyebrow. </div>
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Writing in 2007, designer Kim Jones stated; 'Ray Petri is an inspiration for most people in menswear. He worked with a loyal group of people to create a new aesthetic, and his references were so on-target that they are still relevant today. This is extremely rare in fashion, where everything seems to move so quickly'.</div>
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Petrie (he later dropped the 'e') was born in Scotland in 1948. At the age of 15, his family moved to Brisbane where he formed a band called 'The Chelsea Set', playing R&B classics and Motown covers. Sensing that his life in Australia was becoming too provincial, he came to London in 1969 and launched himself into the emerging gay club culture, and undertook classes at Sotheby's in order to learn about the antique market. By the early eighties, British club and fashion culture has become a rag-bag of post-punk style, where sartorial fragments of the past had converged and taken to the streets. Petri somehow found his calling as a sort of fashion arbiter, and as an overseer, began to develop an innate sense of what was required to create an image that would last in the ever-changing universe of the fashion genre. Rather than relying on agency models and gym-buffed blonds, he cast mixed-race teenagers and dressed them in designer clothes that he paired with underwear, sportswear and vintage pieces, and the effect was uncompromisingly tough and sexually charged. Recalling Ray Petri, photographer Jean-Baptist Mondino says: 'Ray created an entire personal world' and 'was obsessed with 'bad boys, Jamaican culture and Native American imagery, and was always surrounded by a crowd of beautiful people. [Buffalo] was a true collective - in a way it reminded me of the Surrealist movement, but everyone was cool and relaxed...'</div>
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Mondino, who over the years collaborated with Petri on videos and editorial spreads, sees him more as a designer than a stylist. 'He reshaped clothes to create silhouettes that simply did not exist at the time. He loved the idea of classic Italian tailoring done in a Caribbean way. From the front, the boys appeared effortlessly dressed, but in the back they were completely pinned, tucked and taped. Ray was obsessed with extra-long shirt sleeves, so he would cut them off at the shoulder and re-attach them with big safety pins so they stuck out under suit jackets...'</div>
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Much of the Buffalo look was defined by the juxtaposing of differing sartorial elements; boxer shorts and army boots worn under a trench coat or Lonsdale genital protectors worn with lace tops and knitted bobble-hats. He took the name for the emerging group of photographers and stylists from Jacques Negrit, a bouncer at the <i>Les Bains Douches </i>nightclub in Paris, The management employed a private security firm staffed by imposing men from Guadeloupe who wore the famous airforce MA-1 jackets with 'Buffalo' emblazoned on the backs. It was claimed also to be a reference to 'Buffalo Soldier', Bob Marley's famous song about black infantrymen who fought in the U.S. Army against native American tribesmen. Petri's posse wore the cobalt-blue version of the jacket, which became a sartorial byword for the Buffalo style. Singer Neneh Cherry was to cement the movement with her 1988 hit 'Buffalo Stance', which spread the word about the style throughout the world. Cherry met Petri en route to Tokyo, where he was producing a show using London teenagers as models. Says Cherry; 'None of us were into here-today-gone-tomorrow fashion, which is why we gravitated to one another. Ray was always consistent, and he taught us that we shouldn't be afraid to be honest'.</div>
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Poised to receive the mainstream recognition and financial success that many in his slipstream enjoyed, Petri became infected with the AIDS virus. 'He was one of the first well-known personalities in London to get the disease, and at the time, not everyone knew how to react' stated milliner Stephen Jones at the time. 'Sometimes, people would move away from him at fashion shows, or they wouldn't invite him at all'. A notable exception was the designer Jean Paul Gaultier (for whom Petri was a huge influence), who held a front-row seat for Petri until his death in 1989. 'Ray died just as fashion was becoming more commercial' concludes Jean Baptiste Mondino. '...but I don't think that he would have approached things any differently than he always did. Most of his friends have made some money over the years, but to tell you the truth, we get a little bored a lot of the time...'</div>
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Buffalo photographer Jamie Morgan, writing after Petri's death, opined that 'Ray, being gay, wanted to show that a man can be sexy, well-groomed, beautiful; all the things that are now associated with gay men. He made it okay for heterosexuals to own that, whereas only women had before. Buffalo is very, very inclusive for all men, and you see it now when someone like David Beckham wears a sarong. He would never have worn that sarong if Buffalo hadn't put a man in one...'</div>
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<!--StartFragment-->Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-38320149106869655262017-01-21T10:18:00.000-08:002017-01-23T06:40:52.242-08:00Out of the Strong Came Forth Sweetness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnV5pEml-QbZKTH5k2PcdQhVhWmN43v_YzvGVBVc_yz5duMj2x23oHcsyEgazzaM1DxsGWb96JjXcq7JWN7NN4SwXTNbXhhtrO7gvN1N3KQnYs9745uvJUYADztBldt1kPKRFHAMf3DsFJ/s1600/FCO_TAT_SYRP907_-00_Tate-and-Lyles-Golden-Syrup-Tin-2lb-907g-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnV5pEml-QbZKTH5k2PcdQhVhWmN43v_YzvGVBVc_yz5duMj2x23oHcsyEgazzaM1DxsGWb96JjXcq7JWN7NN4SwXTNbXhhtrO7gvN1N3KQnYs9745uvJUYADztBldt1kPKRFHAMf3DsFJ/s320/FCO_TAT_SYRP907_-00_Tate-and-Lyles-Golden-Syrup-Tin-2lb-907g-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Few examples of iconic packaging have sustained the longevity of the Lyle's Golden Syrup Tin. Against all odds (and probably little resistance) its design has endured without significant alteration for almost three hundred years, save perhaps the bringing of weight and content descriptions into the 21st century (and, for example, on the occasion of the Queen's Golden Jubilee, where the distinctive banner over the lion was appended by an impressive crown and a cheer of suitable lettering to mark the auspicious occasion).<br />
<br />
Born in Greenock in 1820, Abram Lyle was, by the 1860s a successful owner of a fleet of ships that brought sugar from the West Indies. In 1881, he sold his shares in the company and with his three sons, opened a new refinery on the Thames at Plaistow adjacent to those of the sugar cube magnate Henry Tate (these two giants of the sugar industry would later merge in 1921, forever lending legendary status to the partnership). Lyle's problem was to effectively turn the bitter, hitherto wasted by-product of the sugar-refining industry into the sweetly viscous syrup for which his name is perhaps best known throughout the world, and it was a research chemist named Charles Eastick to which the task fell. Eastick was an expert in the specific properties of sugar and its refining process, and Lyle wasted no time in employing his services. Almost an overnight sensation, the syrup was initially dispensed from wooden barrels for local consumption and it was in 1885 that the first distinctive green and gold cans with their cryptic Old Testament imagery began to appear on cornershop shelves. 'Out of the Strong Came Forth Sweetness', and the seemingly eternal mystery of the lion which defines the very essence of the tin's design, relates to an episode from the Book of Judges, and to Samson in particular. Judges relates the slaying of a lion by the strongman whilst en route to woo a prospective wife from among his Philistine oppressors. On returning homeward, Samson discovered that a swarm of bees had made a honeycomb within the dead creature's carcass, and he availed himself of its sweet delicacy. Here then, is offered up a riddle with which he confronts his oppressors during the wedding feast that was to follow: 'Out of the eater came forth meat, and out of the strong came forth sweetness'. The image of the dead lion with his emerging swarm of bees has intrigued us down the centuries, and remains perhaps the most tantalising aspect of the product's distinctive packaging, and the element by which the tin is regarded by millions with nostalgic affection. There is also perhaps, a further, slightly tangental dimension to the image of the recumbent beast and his swarm of insects - that which centres around the ancient concept of <i>Bugonia</i>, or 'The Ox-Born Bee'. Bee Wilson, in her groundbreaking study of man's eternal relationship with the honey bee, discusses what is perhaps the oddest of all ancient theories on the origins of how these creatures came into existence and how their species were generated and sustained, namely, that they were somehow spontaneously fashioned from the dead body of an ox. The Latin poet Ovid (43 BC - AD 18) declared that 'Swarms rush from the rotten ox, and one extinguished life produces a thousand'. The notion that a decaying carcass might give birth to living bees is fanciful by any standards, yet bizarrely, this was an accepted explanation for the existence of bees of more than 2,000 years. In part it was a reflection of the yearning of man to control the miraculous creatures and, by extension, thereby to have domain over death itself. The Greeks coined this supposed process of creation <i>Bugonia </i>(literally 'Birth from an Ox') and since both creatures were revered in equal measure, opined that the death of one might give rise to the life of the other. Columella, an agricultural expert writing in the 1st century AD, went so far as to believe that oxen and bees were related. In Rome, the process of <i>apes facere </i>was spoken of; namely, the practice of 'making' bees; as though they might be manufactured at will by human beings. Ovid further writers of the use of a rotten ox to 'recover bees by art', and creating them in this manner meant that mankind could dream of standing in relation to bees as gods did to mankind. The superstition that the life of bees derived from the carcass of dead oxen predates those of the Roman poets however. A version of the belief possibly began in ancient Egypt, where the sacred Apis bull was worshipped for its fertility and its strength, as the bee was for the miraculous, healing properties of its honey, and where belief in the reincarnation of the soul was strong. In ancient Arabia, there was a similar belief-system involving a dead horse. Here, we must return to Samson and the bees, perhaps the best-known variant of the <i>bugonia </i>legend, and to our familiar gold and green tin. Samson's story is allegorical - which is not to say that the ancient attachment to the concept of the Ox-born (or in this case Lion-born) bee was merely fanciful or symbolic. There were many complex tenets to its process, chiefly centred around the method by which the ox must be killed and processed so that the conditions are rendered perfect for the genesis of the swarm to issue forth. Particular emphasis was given to the surrounding conditions of the carcass, with strict geometrical consideration given to the chamber in which the process was carried out. Fragrant thyme played a crucial role, as did the timing of the decaying process - strictly thirty days (after which the chamber was opened for a further eleven, at which point, the miraculous cluster of bees were alleged to swarm 'like summer clouds') and the creature reduced to horns, bone and hair. Belief in the process of <i>bugonia </i>persisted into the Renaissance and beyond, and from ancient poetry to prosaic British methods of animal husbandry. In the 1600's, a Mr. Carew of Anthony, claimed to have successfully manufactured bees from the carcasses of yearling calves, and maintained his swarms not in hives but rather in the decapitated heads of pigs, convinced that the burying of dead cattle at the end of April would produce honey-making bees by Summer. Shakespeare refers to the bee 'leaving her comb in the dead carrion' and Ben Jonson, writing in 'The Alchemist' of 1610 stated; 'Beside, who doth not see, in daily practice, Art can beget bees, hornets, beetles, wasps, out of the carcases and dung of creatures yea, scorpions of an herb, being rightly placed?'<br />
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The unique design of the Lyle's Golden Syrup tin is recognised the world over, and by the Guinness Book of World Records as 'Britain's oldest branding'. In our fast-paced and visually changing world, its appeal remains constant thanks to its sense of the eternal.Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-13635543715629757242017-01-17T11:42:00.000-08:002017-01-18T09:20:48.347-08:00Poster Boys for the Beat Generation<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: "georgia";">With the
possible exception of ‘Shakespeare and Company’ founded in 1919 by Sylvia Beach
and forever associated with the likes of James Joyce, Ezra Pound and Ernest
Hemingway, City Lights Bookstore, opened in 1953 by poet Lawrence Ferlinghetti
and Peter Martin retains its heritage as the cradle of the Beat Generation
Movement, and one of the few truly great independent bookshops in the United
States. Six decades have passed since the birth of the Beat explosion became
the byword for the burgeoning counterculture in American literature, and
Ferlinghetti’s famous store, located in San Francisco at 261 Columbus Avenue,
remains a destination for book-lovers the world over. Expanded several times
during its 63-year history, City Lights continues to keep the flame of the Beat
Generation alive, with extensive titles by the leading figures of the movement.
Famed for its reprints of important
texts from such luminaries as Ginsberg and Burroughs, there are also sections
on politics, philosophy, music, spirituality and ‘alternative’ lifestyle. With
its famous masthead ‘A Literary Meeting-place since 1953’, City Lights remains
the premier outlet for writers and readers seeking an alternative American
voice. In 1955, Ferlinghetti launched City Lights Publishers with the
now-famous ‘Pocket Poets’ series, and throughout the decades, has published a
wide range of both poetry and prose titles, with over 200 still in print.
Recognised and respected for its commitment to innovation and progressive
ideologies in poetry and fiction, it remains a resistant force in the face of
conservatism and literary censorship, and holds to the tenets of its founders
as an invitation to participate in what they termed ‘the great conversation’
between authors of all ages. Though renowned throughout the literary world, the
store has retained its sense of intimacy, with a liberal dose of anarchic
charm. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: "georgia";">Perhaps the
most enduring image of the store remains its poster of Jack Kerouac and Neal Cassady,
based on a photograph taken by Caroline Cassady in 1952. Available for sale
since it appeared in the 1950’s, the image was also used for the Penguin
reprint of Kerouac’s ‘On the Road’. First published in 1957, it remains perhaps
Kerouac’s most defining literary achievement – and certainly the work for which
he is most recognised. A classic roman a’ clef, Kerouac employed the key
figures of the Beat movement as characters, including himself in the guise of narrator
Sal Paradise. On publication, the New York Times hailed it as ‘the most
beautifully executed, the clearest and the most important utterance yet made by
the generation Kerouac himself named years ago as ‘beat’ and whose principal
avatar he is’. Continuously in print, ‘On the Road’ was chosen by Time magazine
as one of the greatest works in the English language, whilst <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Modern Library </i>ranked it 55<sup>th</sup>
on a shortlist of the best novels of the 20<sup>th</sup> century. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: "georgia";">Caroline
Cassady’s iconic image for the City Lights Bookstore poster was taken in the
early fifties during one of the trio’s many road trips. She met Neal Cassady in
1947 whilst studying theatre arts at the University of Denver. Cassady, a
working class man with literary aspirations, was close friends with budding
writers Kerouac and Ginsberg, and the complexities of their conjoined
relationship was detailed in her memoir ‘On and Off the Road: Twenty years with
Cassady, Kerouac and Ginsberg’, published in 1990. She tolerated Cassady’s
ramblings with Kerouac (and also their on-off sexual relationship)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and competed with a series of women
throughout their tempestuous marriage. After ‘On the Road’ was published – in
which he was forever mythologised as Dean Moriarty, Neal served three years in
San Quentin for selling marijuana to an undercover policeman. On his release in
1963, the Cassadys divorced. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #535353; font-family: "georgia";">Caroline
Cassady’s enduring photograph of Jack and Neal shows two men at the apex of their
beauty, and as avatars of their era, and there is a timelessness to the image which transcends the age of its capture. Lovingly referred to as
‘The Boys’ by Ferlinghetti, the photograph retained its appeal long after the
bloom of the Beat Generation faded, and it remains the essence of both
innocence and experience for those that blazed their own trail in the decades
that followed. <span style="font-size: 16pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
</div>
Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-66905325233677649162013-11-12T02:55:00.002-08:002017-01-18T06:22:59.983-08:00Sun and Salt, Figure and Ground: The Prints of Keith Vaughan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Keith Vaughan (1912-1977) belonged to a
generation of serious painter-printmakers anxious to discover their identity in an artistic universe not only shattered by the events of the Second
World War, but also one which had become largely dominated by European and American
forms of abstraction, where the language of figurative painting was seen to
possess little validation after the reality of recent global events. Chosen to
undertake the vast mural for the Dome of Discovery at the 1951 Festival of
Britain, he was also represented in the landmark exhibition ’60 paintings for
‘51’, Vaughan was regarded in high esteem by both contemporaries and discerning
collectors at this early stage of his career, and possessed of an
uncompromising sexual identity as a gay man (which he shared with Francis Bacon
and John Minton), Vaughan’s figurative work is imbued with a potent male
presence which remains as powerful and uncompromising to the contemporary
onlooker as it did to the awakening audience of the forties and fifties.
Reaching his professional peak with a major retrospective at the Whitechapel
Art Gallery in 1962, Vaughan’s work mirrored the sudden shift of artistic
emphasis that had been dominated by major European and American centres of art,
and ushered in the Pop Art generation with which the art world of Britain in
the sixties is most strongly associated. Despite a career eclipsed by
contemporaries such as Bacon and Freud, Vaughan maintained a powerful
creative output which was to last until his death in 1977. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A timely reassessment of
Vaughan’s life and work has recently been published to accompany an exhibition based on major archive holdings of Vaughan's work at the Aberystwyth University School of Art Museum, and chiefly brings together his overriding preoccupations;
the figure and the landscape. Three scholarly essays – on drawing and book
illustration by Colin Cruise and on Vaughan’s photography by Simon Pierse, the
text also includes a masterly and important re-appraisal of Vaughan as a
printmaker by Robert Mayrick and Harry Hauser. Now much sought-after by
collectors of the post-war artistic era, Vaughan as print-maker has perhaps
failed to attract the scholarly attention this branch of his work justly
deserves. Mayrick and Hauser examine Vaughan’s
printed imagery of the 1950s, beginning with the iconic ‘Festival Dancers’ of
1951. They discuss Vaughan’s lithographic landscapes chiefly populated by
lithe male figures in the act of labour and repose. Recalling in his journal of
1940 ‘naked bodies browning in the sun and salt’, his printed images of the
period reflect a sensual world imbued not only with hard work but also with forbidden
sensuality; Vaughan's private preoccupations made uncompromisingly public.
The authors also touch upon Vaughan’s early linocuts, made during his public
school days, which were, by his own insistence, of 'little artistic concern' to the artist himself. Indeed, it was only in 1963, when invited by the Refern
Gallery to edition some prints that had lain undiscovered for over a decade
that a re-interest in the print medium was awakened in him. Whilst these early
linocuts would suggest the influence of Edward Gordon Craig, whose images
distilled the human figure to its very essence, Vaughan’s exposure to
developments in colour auto-lithography in the late 1930’s and throughout the
forties, advocated by contemporaries such as John Piper (and by commissions
from such as Frank Pick at London Transport and Jack Beddington at Shell-Mex,
who actively commissioned artists of Vaughan’s generation to explore the print
medium, commissioning unsigned, open-edition prints for distribution among
public institutions) proved to be the creative fulcrum for what was to follow. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Continuing to largely focus on male figures in landscapes, all of Vaughan’s
extant lithographs were made over a relatively short period. The lithographic
medium appealed greatly to a generation of British artists such as Vaughan and
his contemporaries as the technique was relatively new and –most crucially-
unburdened by the long tradition of other print disciplines such as the
wood-block and the etching plate. Finely crafted etchings and woodcuts that had
been so popular during the inter-war years now seemed staid and conventional by
comparison to a generation in pursuit of the new. Lithography also possessed
the appeal of immediacy, somehow in direct, gestural alliance to the very act
of painting itself. Resolving to shake off his former Neo-Romantic associations,
Vaughan now forged a new direction in both painting and printmaking, and the
latter proved to be the most effective medium for him to make the transition
from his drawings and previous works on paper, preparing him for a decade of
ravishing lithographic imagery.</span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-41955719988458602802013-03-19T10:40:00.002-07:002013-03-21T13:08:25.277-07:00The Everyday Illuminated: 'Black Eyes and Lemonade' revisited<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Organised for the 1951 Festival of Britain, 'Black Eyes and Lemonade' was staged at London's Whitechapel Gallery by artist, designer and writer Barbara Jones in collaboration with Tom Ingram. This ground-breaking exhibition challenged established notions concerning the cultural value attached to so-called 'everyday' or vernacular objects. The show, divided by the curators into specific categories such as Home, Birth-Marriage and Death, Commerce and Industry, was a celebration of the Everyday, mirroring Jones' fascination for the commonplace, possibly otherwise-overlooked elements of British popular culture and of the values associated with objects both machine-manufactured and handmade when placed within an exhibition construct. Stressing in her exhibition manifesto that 'the museum eye must be abandoned', Jones curated a provocative spectacle that posed challenging questions about hierarchies of value, creation and consumption. It was an exhibition that also championed judgements associated with object-making, creators and collectors, whist also challenging established notions of consumerism and mass-market appeal of the period. Many of the objects on display at the 1951 exhibition had come from Jones' own collection. A lifelong avid gatherer of the unorthodox and unusual. they were sourced from markets. secondhand dealers and often, directly from the makers themselves. Additional items were sourced during a trip at the beginning of the Festival year that Jones made in a converted London taxi with Ingram, which they purchased for £30.00. A passenger seat and a near-side door was installed, but the rest of the car's interior was left clear for transporting the spoils that were discovered during the course of the trip. Jones was to opine that once outside London, the iconic black cab was a rarity, and it proved a major factor in the success of the venture. 'We bought the whole popular art scene right up to date', she stated in her catalogue contribution for 'A Tonic to the Nation' that accompanied the 1976 exhibition at the Victoria and Albert Museum and which marked the 25th anniversary of the Festival of Britain. She went on to say that 'as far as I know, this was the first time it has ever been done: things currently on sale in the shops and posters on the hoardings, plaster and plastic ornaments...were all displayed as works of art'.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The title of the 1951 exhibition derives from the Thomas Moore poem <i>Intercepted Letter</i>s or <i>the Two-Penny Postbag</i> of 1813:<i> 'A Persian's heaven is easily made: 'Tis but Black Eyes and Lemonade'</i>. The exhibition featured exhibits such as ship's figureheads, waxworks from Tussauds, fireworks, Victorian Valentines, quilts. engraved pub mirrors, narrow-boat painting, carnival masks, Salvation army uniforms and children's toys. The selection also embraced the seasons and traditional festivities specific to towns and communities throughout the British Isles. All the exhibited objects were made and sourced in the United Kingdom. The Whitechapel exhibition was hugely popular with visitors throughout the months of the Festival, and their visit made them appreciate more fully, the rich variety of vernacular art that surrounded and informed their daily lives in a way hitherto unimagined. The new and the commonplace were displayed intentially side by side and, as Jones' goes went on to say; '...by the end most people felt able to accept a talking lemon extolling Idris Lemon squash and Bassetts Liquorice Allsorts isolated under a spotlight'. By extension, she recalled a borrowed waxwork of the late-lamented Chief Rabbi of Whitechapel having to be relocated as the local Synagogue felt that the effigy was placed too near to the talking lemon for dignity to be duly observed. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Simon Costin, director of the Museum of British Folklore, in partnership with Dr. Catherine Moriarty, design historian and curator of the Design Archives at Brighton University, have collaborated with the Whitechapel Gallery Archives to re-examine and re-evaluate the importance and cultural significance of Jones' contribution to the 1951 Festival of Britain half a century on and in the light of contemporary views of art, design and culture. Original installation photographs from the 1951 exhibition are included, alongside items once belonging to Barbara Jones from the Tony Raymond collection, now in the holdings of Brighton Design archives. There are fireworks from the collections of the Museum of British Folklore, original correspondence between Jones and the Whitechapel Art Gallery, as well as that which was sent to manufacturers and makers of objects for the original exhibition. Central to the current exhibition is the famous Airedale Terrier fire-surround that featured in the original show and which was discovered in the vaults of the Design Museum. 'Black Eyes and Lemonade: Curating Popular Art' runs until September 1st in the Pat Matthews Gallery, Whitechapel Art Gallery, 77-78 Whitechapel High Street, London E1 7QX</span></div>
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Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-12287890176115187972013-01-09T15:07:00.001-08:002013-03-21T13:18:13.370-07:00Dark Matter: Pavel Tchelitchew's 'Tattooed Man'<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Variously referred to as 'Man with Tattoos' or 'Portrait of a Tattooed Man', Pavel Tchelitchew's iconic portrait was painted in Paris in 1934, and was, up until the time it was sold at Sotheby's, New York in 2010, in the collection of the actress Ruth Ford. Her brother, the writer and publisher Charles Henri Ford was Tchelitchew's life-long partner, who died in 2002, Ford herself dying in 2009 at the age of 98. Her apartment in New York's Dakota building was crammed with masterworks by Tchelitchew, amongst other 20th-century masters, and this astonishingly powerful portrait of a man, darkly-attired in an acrobat's leotard, was estimated to sell at auction for between $250,000.00 and $350, 000.00.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Tchelitchew was born in Russia in 1898, and fled after the 1918 Revolution, eventually to Paris, where he settled in the artistic quarter of Montparnasse and was soon feted by the artistic and literary <i>haute-monde</i> of the day, notably by Gertrude Stein and her lover Alice B. Toklas and later by Edith Sitwell (who was largely responsible for introducing the painter and his work to British collectors). His work would later evolve into a Neo-Romantic style, with an overwhelming sense of the metamorphic, where stellar and planetary aspects became an essential component to portraits already imbued with mystical and dream-like cadence. It is the economy, however, of Tchelitchew's portrait of the unknown sitter that attests to his skill as an interpreter of the male form in both power and stillness. Hewn from the dark background, the subject is clothed in the one-piece costume rendered by the painter even darker than the surroundings that he emerges from; an Ariel-like figure anchored to the earth by the encroaching blackness that engulfs him. In repose, the face is passive; the averted gaze belies little emotion yet, framed by his raven-black forelock, he is rendered equally as a figure or vulnerability and as an object of the sitter's- and, by extension - our desire. In starkest counterpoint to the darkness around him is the blueness of his tattoos against the warmth of golden skin that truly make this perhaps his finest work of the period. There is a subcutaneous glow to the flesh, a blurring to the edges of the ink beneath the epidermis that single out this astonishing painting as one of his greatest. The gesture of strong arms crossing to shield a stronger yet somehow vunerable body serves to better define the dense tracery of the designs that decorate him, truly fixing our gaze, and rendering him an illuminated angel against the impenetrable darkness at his back. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Ruth and Charles Henri Ford were devoted siblings who, by virtue of their family wealth, were able to indulge their joint passions for the arts and patronage to an unpresidented degree. Their separate apartments in the iconic Upper West Side Dakota building were the settings for some of the most famous literary and artistic gatherings of the era. Charles was the author of <i>The Young and Evil, </i>written in 1933 and regarded as the first novel in the U.S. to explore themes of homosexuality and 'genderqueerness'- a term coined much later in the century to describe a group or an individual who exists outside of 'normal' modes of sexual and social <i>mores.</i> Gertrude Stein opined that Ford's novel 'beat the Beat Generation by a generation' and focuses on the lives of a group of artists as they write poetry, have sex and generally lead the lives of artistic outsider-itinerants, moving in and out of New York's cheap apartments and rented rooms. It's candor was astonishing for the period, and rocked the established literary world to the core. Rejected by almost every major American and British publisher, it was picked up by Obelisk Press in Paris and became an early counter-cultural phenomenon which anticipated and pre-figured the novels of William Burroughs and Hubert Selby by two decades. Ford's circle inevitably included the leading gay lights of his generation: photographers Hoyningen-Huene and George Platt-Lynes most notably, as well as luminaries such as Cecil Beaton, Leonor Fini, Carl Van Vechten, Orson Welles and George Balanchine. Ford was photographed by Beaton for <i>Vogue </i>in 1937, wearing a costume designed by Salvador Dali. Ford bought Tchelitchew to New York in 1934, having begun a relationship that lasted their lifetimes. Ford was also the instigator and publisher of <i>View</i>, a magazine that was seen as the pivotal Surrealist publication of the pre-and post-war period in Europe and the U.S.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The majority of the works in Ruth Ford's collection were gifted to the actress during the painter's lifetime, with many more bequeathed to her on her brother's death. It is highly likely that Tchelitchew's masterly portrait of the Tattooed Man came to her latterly, and was thought to be amongst the most significant of his works in her possession. It epitomizes the painter's work of the period, made all the more fantastical by the enigmatic nature of the subject whose decorated forearms hint at some sort of inner psyche which we, the onlooker can only attempt to guess. Lincoln Kirstein, the painter's biographer and contemporary stated that 'Tchelitchew became absorbed with the idea of metamorphosis, a collective object or image composed of other complete images- and their interplay, balance, contrast and opposition in which there was a ceaseless dialogue of the whole with its parts'.</span></div>
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Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-27796323876788844562013-01-09T12:15:00.001-08:002013-03-19T13:52:02.924-07:00The Bicycle Thieves<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Universally hailed as one of the greatest films ever made, Vittorio De Sica's 1948 Academy award-winning masterpiece, 'The Bicycle Thieves' ('Ladri di biciclette') defined an era in cinema. In postwar, poverty-stricken Rome, a man, hoping to support his desperate family with a new job, loses his bicycle, his main means of transportation for work. With his wide-eyed young son in tow, he sets off to track down the thief. Simple in construction and dazzlingly rich in human insight, 'Bicycle Thieves' embodied all the greatest strengths of the neo-realist film movement in Italy: emotional clarity, social righteousness, and brutal honesty.</span>Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-38296182498458016712012-01-17T10:03:00.000-08:002012-01-17T16:00:56.761-08:00Claire de Rouen<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9rWD3o4FLU_BQCXr3Sp5b4wYUuQbUIGMmAFwLsjV2VAzmL0wtUXRkPglHsw5iq9T0OEX2XqkH4JQg6pDJNqBJdXaAyAkfcXAj2rWFMwqSg8TG4T-iShzBo1HaEZ4TKlmmjVgVL3nVFVuq/s1600/claire+de+rouen.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9rWD3o4FLU_BQCXr3Sp5b4wYUuQbUIGMmAFwLsjV2VAzmL0wtUXRkPglHsw5iq9T0OEX2XqkH4JQg6pDJNqBJdXaAyAkfcXAj2rWFMwqSg8TG4T-iShzBo1HaEZ4TKlmmjVgVL3nVFVuq/s400/claire+de+rouen.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698663478076651218" /></a><br />Claire de Rouen, the doyenne of fashion and photography books, has died after a long illness. I first met Claire in the late seventies at the Photographer's Gallery, where she was an eternal presence behind the counter that served as the diminutive bookshop in their Newport Street premises. To this day, I regret the non-purchase of a Minor White monograph which Claire predicted 'would become extremely sought after in years to come, darling'.<br /><br /> During the eighties and for most of the nineties, she was the force behind the photography and fashion department at the original Zwemmer bookshop in Charing Cross Road. Her breathtaking knowledge of the subjects made her the icon of fashion students and famous photographers alike. I had the pleasure of working with her during her short-lived tenure with Shipley Art Booksellers. It is however, for the shop that proceeded this period that she will best be remembered. She was afforded the governance of a small premises on the first floor of a sex shop at the Tottenham Court Road end of Charing Cross Road, and it soon became a mecca for the faithful as well as the neophite to the world of photography and fashion. The shop was easy to miss, but a discreet neon sign in the window directed the determined to their destination like a beacon. It flourished as much by word of mouth as any website, and garnered a reputation among a dedicated cognoscenti for whom Claire's advice was paramount. With her trademark bob and a fringe that skimmed those smokey, intriguing eyes, Claire's dress-sense was immaculate; her look was timeless and never disappointed. Usually sat by the till, her faithful pug Otis curled beneath the desk, she would direct customers to whatever newly-published book she thought might suit their needs and tastes, but often, she simply delighted at your own discoveries amidst the stock. Seldom resorting to the shop's database, she knew her books by heart, with rarities temptingly encased in a vitrine which were never priced but which she would be more than happy to let you examine. Collectors were legion, and giants of the photography world sought her out when they were in town. Bruce Weber was a regular visitor, and Claire was an early advocate and seller of his monographs. David Bailey was a huge fan, stating that Claire's was 'probably the best photography bookshop in the world' and it was Bob Carlos Clark who persuaded her to open premises under her own name.<br /><br />Born Claire Alphandri in Alexandria in the early thirties, her age was always a notoriously-guarded secret. She attended art school in London and married Reid de Rouen in the 1950s. She met John Nichol in the mid 1980's, and they lived and worked together until her death this week. Claire was passionate about the things she loved, and kept her manicured finger firmly on the fashion pulse of her time. Her mystery and allure added greatly to the shop's atmosphere. She was a tireless champion of young photographers and fashion students (the newly-graduated Alexander McQueen adored her) and she often displayed their work in the stairwell gallery adjacent to the shop. Her stock of fashion and photography magazines from around the world was unrivalled. <br /><br />Claire de Rouen books will continue without her, but her legacy will live on there for as long as it remains open, as I trust it will for many years to come. The world will be poorer without her, and her throne within the pantheon of fashion and photography will remain unoccupied. It was a privilege to have known her.Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-62223056128050796642012-01-12T08:05:00.000-08:002012-01-12T10:41:30.691-08:00The Lion Roars in Rye<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNDkwNLnYZB6u2ewAIsLWryawRYo5O-UMO2xTR4uVfkPwkETre8Ukq00IDN9jFhykNHa5oElKShvbbsBIDhq0CEfG974UJYmhWMdwpGskdoQClnBGDIl2smAXZIUp1XWCy4Qtv7sVk3Alv/s1600/lion+street+store.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNDkwNLnYZB6u2ewAIsLWryawRYo5O-UMO2xTR4uVfkPwkETre8Ukq00IDN9jFhykNHa5oElKShvbbsBIDhq0CEfG974UJYmhWMdwpGskdoQClnBGDIl2smAXZIUp1XWCy4Qtv7sVk3Alv/s400/lion+street+store.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696777800269169298" /></a><br />William Morris's epithet of having nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful has never seemed more apposite than in the case of The Lion Street Store in Rye, East Sussex. Owned and operated by former milliner Sarah Benton, the shop has been open only a few short months, but it has clearly already attracted a huge following which spreads far beyond the ancient Cinque Port town. Situated just down from the historic St Mary's church which crowns the Rye skyline, Sarah has created a light and airy space and stocked it with objects of desire which are a feast for the eyes and the senses. The best in contemporary-designed items effortlessly blend with carefully-chosen vintage pieces, all of them bought together with an assured sensibility which makes the shop such a mecca for all who hanker for the unique and the unusual in their home. With all the panache of a Bawden vignette for Fortnum and Mason, Nicholas Frith's masterful logo of the sailors and the friendly lion perfectly captures the mood of the shop, as elsewhere, fabric dolls by Jane Foster and textiles by Lisa Stickley sit alongside one-off toy theatres by Emily Warren. Knitted creatures by Donna Wilson become the outriders in a vintage Triang truck, whilst distressed children's desks open to reveal their treasures. Sarah shares with her customers a passion for the miraculous images of the likes of Robert Taverner and Edwin La Dell, and the card racks overspill with the cream of British 20th-century printmakers. Wire baskets are packed with handwoven Irish blankets, fashioned from recycled wool, whilst elsewhere are screen-printed boy and girl-shaped cushions that somehow evoke the days of 'Look and Learn' and the Ladybird series of books so beloved of our childhoods. In the coming months, Sarah hopes that the store will become a regular venue for literary and musical events, and is keen to organise one-off specialist exhibitions of artists and craftspeople. With a contemporary eye fixed firmly on the sensibilities of similar institutions such as St Jude's Gallery, Loop in Islington and Old Town in Holt, Sarah's conviction that people deserve to have the very best in British art and craft is everywhere evinced at the Lion Street Store. The ancient town of Rye has never seemed so fortunate to have this newcomer in her midst; I urge you to beat a path to its' lovely painted portal. <br /><br />The Lion Street Store. 6 Lion Street, Rye, East Sussex TN31 7LB<br />www.lionstreetstore.comGraham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-69961406580091700922011-11-15T12:11:00.000-08:002017-01-17T11:26:29.356-08:00Drella does Rainer: Warhol's poster for Fassbinder's 'Querelle'<span style="font-style: italic;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijnxNcp6-tv0GruW8ppVQL6u88wiJT3g6fyAB7DhNe_iK-yshvLkE12rcTNsptiGx9QRefdr3_6i7LEWewB4_ta9a4vVCtIe9QwEDs3EQ1PtI7o7TEjrgycpldlZR_1cxnMyJyV6bVFxOh/s1600/querelle.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675318591295225234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijnxNcp6-tv0GruW8ppVQL6u88wiJT3g6fyAB7DhNe_iK-yshvLkE12rcTNsptiGx9QRefdr3_6i7LEWewB4_ta9a4vVCtIe9QwEDs3EQ1PtI7o7TEjrgycpldlZR_1cxnMyJyV6bVFxOh/s400/querelle.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
Andy Warhol's poster for Rainer Werner Fassbinder's 1982 film adaptation of Genet's <span style="font-style: italic;">'Querelle of Brest'</span> uses an original photograph culled from a 1977 series of screenprints entitled <span style="font-style: italic;">Sex Parts</span>, and remains one of his most potent and memorable images. Now highly desirable by collectors, the original poster was issued in a number of colours (pictured is the grey version), and despite Warhol's interpretation bearing no direct reference to the film itself, somehow retrospectively at least, succeeds in being thoroughly synonymous with Fassbinder's vision of Genet's 1946 novel. The film was Fassbinder's last, and European distributors in particular, released a plethora of promotional material, from giant 7-sheet billboard images to artfully-airbrushed portraits of Brad Davies, who played Genet's eponymous murdering sailor-hero. Warhol's photographic image of two boys is overdrawn in his customary style with off-register lines and blocks of colour, and possibly recalls the characters of Querelle's brother Robert, and Gil, his fellow matelot and murderer. Frank Episale, in his riveting review <span style="font-style: italic;">'Genet meets Fassbinder'</span> in <span style="font-style: italic;">Bright Lights Film Journal</span>, states that 'Genet's <span style="font-style: italic;">Querelle</span> bought Melville's <span style="font-style: italic;">Billy Budd</span> out of the closet and exposed the coded homoeroticism of the all-male naval vessel inhabited by men and boys in tight white pants to a wider, largely heterosexual audience'. Fassbinder's film pays visual homage to James Bidgood's 1971 American underground arthouse classic <span style="font-style: italic;">Pink Narcissus</span>, in which a handsome male hustler fantasizes about a kitsch universe where he is the central character in a number of set-piece encounters. By extension, the gay French photographic duo Pierre and Gilles owe a debt to Bidgood's fantasy-world by placing their protagonists in a number of highly-wrought and glitteringly-enchanted settings where there is more than a nod to Genet's muscular matelots in all their campy eroticism. Fassbinder's set for <span style="font-style: italic;">Querelle </span>is highly stylized and uses overly-wrought lighting techniques reminiscent of those which he employed in <span style="font-style: italic;">Lola </span>a year earlier. Frames are shot within frames, and the misty murk of Brest is re-imagined with phallic towers and dark culverts where lurk and lean the denizens of Genet's twilight world. Episale concludes his review by reminding us that by the time the film was released, 'Susan Sontag had already published <span style="font-style: italic;">Notes on Camp</span>, Stonewall had come and gone', and that '[The Village People's] YMCA had been appropriated by wedding DJ's'.Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-12802474151367279612011-10-25T10:49:00.000-07:002011-11-15T11:13:00.461-08:00Pryde of Place: The Beggarstaff Brothers and 'Don Quixote'<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1-d-MZjnKsT1pcBSGHtqyidu74zQRaOBW394F_dcyRpY6Dn-il_L95yf8xXUumKM3S-gsFk50AUZDSabrz7T-z9bZLJ_BW7OmyufdJM6VqHbrWMCnXZRJS608fpdJ6BOLbM7Rg-Fq-Zyu/s1600/Beggarstaff+Quixote.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 383px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1-d-MZjnKsT1pcBSGHtqyidu74zQRaOBW394F_dcyRpY6Dn-il_L95yf8xXUumKM3S-gsFk50AUZDSabrz7T-z9bZLJ_BW7OmyufdJM6VqHbrWMCnXZRJS608fpdJ6BOLbM7Rg-Fq-Zyu/s400/Beggarstaff+Quixote.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667488462465334402" /></a><br />Arguably the finest of all the poster designs created by William Nicholson and James Pryde, working under the aegis of the Beggarstaff Brothers, was for a play entitled <span style="font-style:italic;">A Chapter from Don Quixote</span> which opened at the Lyceum Theatre on 4th May 1895 with Sir Henry Irving in the title role. The production, based on an incident in Cervante's novella, consisted of two scenes contrived out of an adaption by W.G.Wills, but as it was not deemed sufficient for a night's entertainment, it formed part of a triple-bill. Convinced that Cervantes was worthy of more serious treatment than that conceived by Irving for the play (in attempt to divert the audience's attention from the poverty in Cervantes' text, Irving included extravagantly comic antics and slapstick elements in the narrative), the Beggarstaffs introduced the dramatic graphic device of the windmill in place of the village pump, around which the main action of the play took place in the second scene. Their authentic depiction of Rosinante, Quixote's horse, replaced a more robust creature (a veteran of the London stage) that Irving attempted to make more pathetic by the use of make-up to replicate the fictional creature's emaciated look. The Beggarstaffs made three separate versions of the <span style="font-style:italic;">Don Quixote</span> poster. The first, dating from 1895, was a collage that lay for many years in Nicholson's studio before being acquired by the Victoria and Albert Museum. The second version was then superceded by one that was later published in the 1896 edition of <span style="font-style:italic;">The Idler</span>, and the third- a simplified version of the first two- was presented to Irving, whom, it was said, thought it too bold a design for use on London theatre hoardings. Pryde later claimed in his autobiography that not only did Irving commission him and Nicholson to design the poster, he paid them a hundred pounds for the result. <br /><br />The Beggarstaff design for <span style="font-style:italic;">Don Quixote</span> poster remains one of the most iconic images in British graphic history. Colin Campbell, the leading authority on the graphic work of Nicholson and the Beggarstaff Brothers, refers to the poster as the earliest large-scale work in which 'the lettering was conceived as part of the composition from the very beginning'. The poster design also shows the full impact on Pryde and Nicholson of Toulouse-Lautrec, for whom their admiration was boundless at the time. Pryde was quoted in <span style="font-style:italic;">The Idler</span> as saying that Lautrec was 'one of the few artists who understand what a poster is and should be'. The French artist's design for <span style="font-style:italic;">La Goulue</span> at the Moulin Rouge of 1891 was of particular significance to Pryde and Nicholson, and showed how flat, ungradated masses of colour could artfully be combined with line, and how light and dark forms could be contrasted as a key component of the overall design. Lautrec had also demonstrated the decorative potential of a simple black mass as a means of enhancing the pictorial interest in the work, and in turn, the Beggarstaff poster for <span style="font-style:italic;">Don Quixote</span> displays this to stunning effect, particularly in the contrasting form of the horse's head juxtaposed against the dark hulk of the windmill, and the way in which the liminality of the sails are cut off by the extremities of the design.Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-8606101772707350442011-01-10T09:58:00.000-08:002017-01-18T08:23:46.614-08:00I Was a Boy Dalek<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitjVn7RYFxL-5fp8jLdWVYD0mePDvBozHgeKhsneDWhLByo2eZUvnjvqENHPbqyIRblxAhqOdULVFb336ZCzpkGRv4jTtmLjQ2W8aXs3Bp3M7R_ElRcWt6tJM5D5HsP6Em-7QgdWd3VmGV/s1600/dalek_suit.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560618242975987682" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitjVn7RYFxL-5fp8jLdWVYD0mePDvBozHgeKhsneDWhLByo2eZUvnjvqENHPbqyIRblxAhqOdULVFb336ZCzpkGRv4jTtmLjQ2W8aXs3Bp3M7R_ElRcWt6tJM5D5HsP6Em-7QgdWd3VmGV/s400/dalek_suit.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 288px;" /></a><br />
The Dalek Playsuit is an enduring memory and, given the plethora of Dr. Who-related merchandise that has resulted from the programme's phenomenal rebranding and re-invention, it seems that this particular item of early Dalek merchandise is one that tends to remain in the minds of those of us who are of a certain vintage, and for whom Saturday evenings were spent cowering behind the couch with delight and terror in equal measure. I was particularly struck to see this advertisement from an old Marshall Ward mail order catalogue, as doubtless, it was the very same one that caught my childhood eye and possessed my every waking hour all those many years ago, so much so that my beleaguered mother was driven to distraction by my constant badgering until it was sent away for (and at the outrageous cost of 66/6. it must have been intended to be a gift for several birthdays and Christmases combined). Let's face it, in the light perhaps of today's more finely-tuned aesthetic sensibilities, the Dalek Playsuit was, by anyone's standards, a superannuated bin bag, through which a sink plunger was thrust through one hole, a plastic potato-peeler through the other. It came down to just below the knees (despite the floor-length apparition we see in this somewhat overstated illustration) and lent the wearer the appearance of being clad in a futuristic mini-dress such as Courreges might have dreamt up for the catwalk. The head-piece was fashioned from stout cardboard, silvered on the outside, and with a series of die-cut slits through which one just about saw the direction of travel; the 'skirt' hung down from its base, whilst that dome was a sort of inverted saucer that sat on your head like a coolie-hat. The eye-piece was fixed, and was basically a large ping-pong ball on a stick. The colour of the skirt was red, and the trademark 'balls' on the Dalek's skirt were printed in white. I more or less lived in it (again, much to the frustration of my poor mother, who later decreed its fate) and when I decided to leave home, aged probably about eight or nine, it was my going-away outfit. I would like to imagine that to this day, there might be some soul who retains a glimmer of recollection that, whilst driving in Sussex in the sixties, they glimpsed the apparition of a Dalek wandering down the central reservation of the A22 like a revenant from a dream. Miraculously, I got as far as the pig-farm (the marmalade sandwiches having by then run out by then, thus posing something of a dilemma as regards supplies for any ongoing journey), whereupon I was duly returned on the back of the farmer's tractor (again, this must have been something of a sight to an unwitting onlooker). The days were numbered for the Dalek playsuit: my mother, at her wit's end, finally consigned it to the flames of our kitchen Raeburn on the very night of the Royal Variety Performance when the Beatles were blazing their own trail before the Queen of England. This act of iconoclasm on her part proved a step too far, as it set fire to the chimney at the exact moment the Fab Four took to the stage. A postscript. I am reliably informed that any Dalek playsuit that has survived (either flood or fire) commands huge prices on the vintage market; six to eight hundred of anyone's money, and that no one I know has ever seen one offered for sale, nor as a collector, possessed one in adulthood.Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-65637553778460409222011-01-06T10:44:00.000-08:002011-01-06T13:17:47.394-08:00A Child's Christmas in Wales<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSjgQGF-2wLor_oujCNJtHeuV_XQ0fEgfoxI6ajpsJ_qJXJqMzNLs4JDhJev8NFxfdUCGGkltjCQeU17657xc6Yi7qn4bxTHhb7Fb5oAk3dsNwyjN-0uzxCt7IvEytTwQCbseD6e4F6cbO/s1600/dylan+thomas2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 333px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSjgQGF-2wLor_oujCNJtHeuV_XQ0fEgfoxI6ajpsJ_qJXJqMzNLs4JDhJev8NFxfdUCGGkltjCQeU17657xc6Yi7qn4bxTHhb7Fb5oAk3dsNwyjN-0uzxCt7IvEytTwQCbseD6e4F6cbO/s400/dylan+thomas2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559146347273274690" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWVOBI9HjOyE3pG_ziXixZHq7Ny6VjG0zmDTcKE5fYCbsclFzGd77I2ik6NhVYy_LVue7dZM7mKjUukFCYC4PkDKbPTa5fkdgFzyY1_rpvt0vR3X0zjSsVfnDYiqTbEXPfayferKYAYH7l/s1600/dylan+thomas.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 333px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWVOBI9HjOyE3pG_ziXixZHq7Ny6VjG0zmDTcKE5fYCbsclFzGd77I2ik6NhVYy_LVue7dZM7mKjUukFCYC4PkDKbPTa5fkdgFzyY1_rpvt0vR3X0zjSsVfnDYiqTbEXPfayferKYAYH7l/s400/dylan+thomas.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559146160324758578" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUM_8woDOhHvTCLSRYf4yvCE2I7A98Q04M2O-DSaVyU5TtiIBHNBAr1U7TKWGXMj15DM7CzY2OyDsBiae6eoofyySqtHGjJQkShzNgWeM8qkQG25Oi8l6ZRrjAIL7slEQ4qxUcTmTdBcS_/s1600/dylan+thomas+3"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 308px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUM_8woDOhHvTCLSRYf4yvCE2I7A98Q04M2O-DSaVyU5TtiIBHNBAr1U7TKWGXMj15DM7CzY2OyDsBiae6eoofyySqtHGjJQkShzNgWeM8qkQG25Oi8l6ZRrjAIL7slEQ4qxUcTmTdBcS_/s400/dylan+thomas+3" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559145934625547122" /></a><br />As Christmas tails away for another year, here are two spreads and the cover from a charming little edition of 'A Child's Christmas in Wales' by Dylan Thomas. Printed by the Belmont Press, Northampton for J.M. Dent and Sons, the book was first published in the United Kingdom in 1968, an earlier edition being issued in the U.S. in 1954. It features beautiful woodcut vignettes by Ellen Raskin, which perfectly compliment Dylan's evocative account of a Welsh childhood Christmas. The image of the town with its cloud/constellation- the heavens above it and the sea beneath- is wonderful, as is the laterr vignette of toy soldiers standing guard by a towering glass epergne of sweets, and elswhere, a roaring fire with flaggons and mistletoe. This classic work for children ends with the following stanza: <br /><br />'Looking through my bedroom window, out into<br />the moonlight and the unending smoke-coloured snow,<br />I could see the lights in the windows<br />of all the other homes on our hill and hear<br />the music rising from them up the long, steadily<br />falling night. I turned the gas down, I got into bed. I said some words to the close and<br />holy darkness, and then I slept'Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-59761821063881935672011-01-05T14:20:00.000-08:002011-01-05T15:08:06.302-08:00Pet Shop Puginesque<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDA_U4l8HcJEIe6g367crFmazI3YhMk7AY1Jhm3deUpfJ2ChGot7H5u3VSXiXwhnFi3YI-w-Ym7_7kdHgfUN8qWUhAU6qd71xulJETXM4qbCM_BIdFeSu62t6WM2JfaEboU40zVWeR48Hy/s1600/IMG_0250.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 175px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDA_U4l8HcJEIe6g367crFmazI3YhMk7AY1Jhm3deUpfJ2ChGot7H5u3VSXiXwhnFi3YI-w-Ym7_7kdHgfUN8qWUhAU6qd71xulJETXM4qbCM_BIdFeSu62t6WM2JfaEboU40zVWeR48Hy/s400/IMG_0250.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558830522302763554" /></a><br />This Gothic psalm-board was made for me by Russell Thomas, and hangs in the stairwell of my house. The quotation is from 'West End Girls' by the Pet Shop Boys, and it is a line that has always intrigued me. My initial thought was to have it embroidered on a sampler in the Victorian style. I then considered a more oblique treatment, with aircraft carriers and spitfires on a cushion cover, the stanza perhaps picked out in Trajan <span style="font-style:italic;">a la</span> Ian Hamilton Finlay. It was Russell who came up with the notion of a psalm-board such as would display hymn numbers to a congregation of church-goers. Fittingly, the frame is fashioned from an old pew-end, the gold-leaf lettering laid on a granite ground. The typeface is Sirona, which lends the piece its pleasing quality, particularly the kerning on the R and the K, as well as the caps on the A and N, and the G is as Gothic as it comes. I adore the enigma of this couplet, coming as it does at the end of this classic eighties electro ballad with its haunting 'How far have you been?' vocal rejoinder. I once glimpsed the Finland Station from the window of a coach bound for Leningrad, and to this day, wonder just what motivated Messrs. Tennant and Lowe to fashion such a wonderful lyric as this.Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-53957474303152202722010-12-30T03:42:00.000-08:002010-12-30T12:12:14.386-08:00Saracinesco<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYqZMWci26RyWSSU3UhAUcGQphZkSmBAlRQ3bOJVlNNzZ2zyzBb8PQoDpaHrYkjzBQ16WY7OFWHLOOusukD9PvbxRzJGYOx3JCOdc0Bxqsskmpm7DDmVJmpCBX0JFxok_D5hNBO4QTXEbo/s1600/sarisinesco.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 355px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYqZMWci26RyWSSU3UhAUcGQphZkSmBAlRQ3bOJVlNNzZ2zyzBb8PQoDpaHrYkjzBQ16WY7OFWHLOOusukD9PvbxRzJGYOx3JCOdc0Bxqsskmpm7DDmVJmpCBX0JFxok_D5hNBO4QTXEbo/s400/sarisinesco.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556441770383364706" /></a><br />Painted in 1961, <span style="font-style:italic;">Saracinesco</span> is among a series of works made by the Cornish artist Peter Lanyon as a result of a trip he made to the hillside region of Italy situated some forty miles to the east of Rome. Lanyon, whose work is forever associated with the landscape of West Cornwall, had found himself increasingly at odds with certain elements of the St Ives school of the period; a small, fractious community which Lanyon perceived had been infiltrated by 'foreigners' who in no small measure had contributed to the battles for governance being played out between the Penwith Society and the St Ives Society of Artists. As a result, he published an essay <span style="font-style:italic;">The Face of Penwith </span>in the Cornish Review, an article that owed, he claimed, much to the ethics of the artist and critic Adrian Stokes, whose concept of 'outwardness' chimed with Lanyon's own, very Cornish sensibilities. Having known Stokes since the late 1930s, he described himself in a letter to the editor of the Cornish Review as 'an artist whose debt to Stokes may never be paid', and quoted the following passage from Stokes's <span style="font-style:italic;">The Quattro Cento</span> of 1932: <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">'The process of living is an externalisation, a turning outward into definite form or inner ferment. Hence the mirror to living which art is; hence the significance of art and especially as a crown to other and preliminary arts of the truly visual arts in which time is transposed into forms of space as something instant and revealed. Hence the positive significance to man (as opposed to use) of stone and stone building.'</span><br /><br />In <span style="font-style:italic;">The Face of Penwith</span>, Lanyon applied Stokes's ideas of revelation, particularly in terms of the landscape of West Penwith, and what, in his terms, he defined as being essentially Cornish. In mining, for instance (a subject which found a rich, continuing seam in Lanyon's work), as well as in in fishing and farming, the industry of Cornwall are construed as a commerce between the Cornishman and what lies beneath; ie, the tin, the fish and the nutrients. This process of delving and drawing to the surface is manifestly apparent in Lanyon's major works of the late 40s and 50's, particularly <span style="font-style:italic;">Botallack</span> of 1952 and <span style="font-style:italic;">St. Just</span>, his masterpiece of 1953. The continuous process of drawing these buried and occluded elements to the surface of the land and sea are aptly mirrored in the works of a painter who knew the form and nature of landscape as intimately, in Tacita Dean's words, as he knew 'his own skin'. <br /><br />Shortly after the article in the Cornish Review was published, Lanyon and his wife travelled to Italy, where they spent a month visiting the places Stokes had mentioned in <span style="font-style:italic;">The Quattro Cento.</span>'One must follow the Master' he said to Patrick Heron in relation to Stokes and Italy. Whether Lanyon recognised in these very particular landscapes, the process of externalisation that Stokes had identified in his writings is not known, but a series of paintings and drawings were produced by Lanyon as a consequence of his time spent in the hill villages outside Rome. At Anticoli, Lanyon saw an ancient settlement still steeped in a bucolic way of life, where animals and people co-existed side by side, and where the natural cycle of life, death and renewal was mediated by myth and tradition. This cycle was memorialised in <span style="font-style:italic;">Primavera</span>, the largest of the group of paintings made at Anticoli. Painted as Spring came to this mountain region where the villages, and those living in nearby Saracinesco, celebrated its arrival with festivities, reflected by Lanyon in hot, bright colours that vibrate with an energy so consonant with the resurgence of the new season and its cycle. <br /><br />Lanyon visited Italy for the last time in 1957, arriving in Rome at the end of February. He visited Lake Nemi and Albano, and returned to Anticoli and Saracinesco. Over the next year, he made pictures related to these specific places. In 1961, after an affair had ended, he returned to the subject of Saracinesco, and began work on the last and perhaps greatest of his Italian series, writing of it as: <br /> <br /><span style="font-style:italic;">'A celebration of a high place and beyond where not only fireworks but moon rockets search for things beyond the primitive proportion of an Italian hill town. The fiesta and the sacrifice are still a part of our behaviour...'</span>Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-61206568490819050172010-12-02T10:53:00.000-08:002011-01-05T13:34:16.344-08:00The Lost Domain of Alain-Fournier<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNM2hEB6Y8YQyH5oX6wbSR4Jh7tbq4ADXgxW74OdTbzQoU6xffUphARwtBp2cJ8z3xwQ1GyhQ5j6yiUpb9g4HQ_y3DFWDY0PxwKXSbcFuyuZh5hxI50O9o4rpB5R8WAElJkA0psgyWh71P/s1600/le+grandes+meaulnes+cover.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 254px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNM2hEB6Y8YQyH5oX6wbSR4Jh7tbq4ADXgxW74OdTbzQoU6xffUphARwtBp2cJ8z3xwQ1GyhQ5j6yiUpb9g4HQ_y3DFWDY0PxwKXSbcFuyuZh5hxI50O9o4rpB5R8WAElJkA0psgyWh71P/s400/le+grandes+meaulnes+cover.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546165004084328562" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQNasafRa-8x_pYjWMX3PJtW0b7GtVQFBllAdQjADgBrVLgPfpYw6O0UW16ykb2tVNekmcn9seM0-pYEoQDPbJjdlxBn4UF-PecRhwhK4kHjHm35RJduLMrXhdSD33VC7Mfar02MWWvwcA/s1600/Le+Grandes+Meaulnes.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 260px; height: 391px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQNasafRa-8x_pYjWMX3PJtW0b7GtVQFBllAdQjADgBrVLgPfpYw6O0UW16ykb2tVNekmcn9seM0-pYEoQDPbJjdlxBn4UF-PecRhwhK4kHjHm35RJduLMrXhdSD33VC7Mfar02MWWvwcA/s400/Le+Grandes+Meaulnes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546163593826904994" /></a>in progressGraham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-67532996645793879932010-11-16T09:12:00.000-08:002010-11-17T02:25:32.884-08:00Crossing the Snowline<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLjbvTH34u7JA6YpRJypjCjic0wiicLC7Hn17X15x-XUYq_9wFHnR65X3cISfARqdVzZh56bRi6LjAEf0OMSq9z3dby0_eSqsC_ihBrzjasFKzuqzq5TStK_HjueWjW08mm1c7zM0qzoDs/s1600/stainer+poem.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 283px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLjbvTH34u7JA6YpRJypjCjic0wiicLC7Hn17X15x-XUYq_9wFHnR65X3cISfARqdVzZh56bRi6LjAEf0OMSq9z3dby0_eSqsC_ihBrzjasFKzuqzq5TStK_HjueWjW08mm1c7zM0qzoDs/s400/stainer+poem.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540197079805674034" /></a><br />'Crossing the Snowline' is the evocative poem from Pauline Stainer's same-titled anthology of 2008. Recreated here in Photoshop by me, it was an attempt to lend extra emphasis to the words by re-rendering them typographically. Stainer's reference to 'the Sculptors of Kilpeck' relates to the church of Saints Mary and David's in the village of the same name in Herefordshire. Built around 1190, the church is notable for its extraordinary corbel carvings of human faces, animals, fish and mythological creatures. Eighty five of the original ninety one corbels astonishingly survive, including a spectacular example of a sheela-na-gig. The visual impact of Stainer's stanza 'the jubilation of wolves spilling into the cloister' is equally spectacular, as is the notion of a statue of 'the sleeping Christ' 'chiseled from the living tree'. Stainer opined that the collection of poems was 'the record of [a] journey out of a long fallow following the death of [her] daughter'. In a contemporaneous review of the book, it is said that the poems 'cast a blue light, the light of mourning, and that the collection is 'poised between these insistent blues and the yellows of the sun prayers with which it closes, enacting the long journey from death to rebirth, grief to hope, out of the 'solstice on its hinge/of salt and fire' and back into the light'.Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-34719477250655816612010-11-16T08:53:00.000-08:002010-11-16T08:55:26.356-08:00Broadstairs Gothick<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUOTvYU3cVYBtcGsV1EdchrRGo_ioSYI_Tga3LcEXEgC9hZJSBcH62C-OMpShUtj04fu7d2rQUexDgkCVHXFga1KELqn5ys2lACW9m43VuaKj_7UQtYHq4ee0v3qL7kNnZxqH929nZrFTy/s1600/IMG_0225.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUOTvYU3cVYBtcGsV1EdchrRGo_ioSYI_Tga3LcEXEgC9hZJSBcH62C-OMpShUtj04fu7d2rQUexDgkCVHXFga1KELqn5ys2lACW9m43VuaKj_7UQtYHq4ee0v3qL7kNnZxqH929nZrFTy/s400/IMG_0225.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540192217091157826" /></a>Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-91253514821274894352010-10-06T12:57:00.000-07:002011-01-10T07:00:18.237-08:00All Saints<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFivpknjAbxVH09lEg9IeC4Beyo2v6AXyDHNk3srgYF_GBtLE78aVcJk3FC-ONYNiB7YIcWuWCnYuqN6K0pR9hx6Nw2PTogbGShjjaxSg-l8gzniabgwU5HluXoc6-WDLpN4BMIJM54LFA/s1600/saints.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFivpknjAbxVH09lEg9IeC4Beyo2v6AXyDHNk3srgYF_GBtLE78aVcJk3FC-ONYNiB7YIcWuWCnYuqN6K0pR9hx6Nw2PTogbGShjjaxSg-l8gzniabgwU5HluXoc6-WDLpN4BMIJM54LFA/s400/saints.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525025054586746770" /></a><br />This beautiful book was given to me by my friend and former colleague Rowland Thomas. Whilst the beautiful cloth binding is striking of itself, the contents are equally wonderful. Published in 1946 by the Department of Anthropology, Santa Fe, New Mexico, the text is by one E. Boyd, and the book was designed by Merle Armitage. Fine collotype plates illustrate 24 examples of bultos, santos and retablos of the principal holy figures of the New Mexican religious canon, and include the Holy Child of Atocha, Our Lady of Guadalupe, San Ramon Nonato and San Isidro. Such depictions of religious figures, be they carved from wood or depicted on skin or gesso panels, were considered at the time that the book was written as purely folk-art; 'at one end of the a scale of church art', yet the author mentions at the opposite extreme, the magnificent retablos of the high Spanish Baroque, by way of stressing the powerfully primitive nature of their creation. The book cites principal santeros (the makers of such religious art), and there is a comprehensive appendix of holy figures and their locations throughout New Mexico. This is an ex-library copy, and retains the stamps of London University and the American Library in London. It also contains the original acccession card, still attached to the rear endpaper; it is interesting to note that the date of its last borrowing was December 4th, 1959 - the day I became four years old. With one and two-colour line drawings on the title and end colophon by P.G. Napolitano, this is a wonderful example of a very particular type of American book; one which retains its appeal for its subject-matter and its period of publication, yet also somehow succeeds in feeling as modern as tomorrow.Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-18194940056226911332010-05-06T14:15:00.000-07:002010-10-06T12:53:12.053-07:00Ravilious and the Wilmington Giant<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2FmtI_nvmQcMZf43fSrUKVlE2mrUhtAW-uFZut1tFMMbfXpSbnzkP3CieMA3hpBdmVshdS4FxHLpWpRkZrjZM0oPCSaWilSxG4RsS2t96NgPu1ssTv_yU6Dh_r9FpcaiIVm0H-hLkumXV/s1600/Wilmington.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 350px; height: 290px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2FmtI_nvmQcMZf43fSrUKVlE2mrUhtAW-uFZut1tFMMbfXpSbnzkP3CieMA3hpBdmVshdS4FxHLpWpRkZrjZM0oPCSaWilSxG4RsS2t96NgPu1ssTv_yU6Dh_r9FpcaiIVm0H-hLkumXV/s400/Wilmington.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468269130707154114" /></a><br />Of all his enduring images, Eric Ravilious' 'Wilmington Giant' of 1939 remains perhaps my favourite of the series of watercolours he executed during the decade before the outbreak of the Second World war. The giant figure, reputed to be the largest representation of the human form on earth, is one of a series of prehistoric chalk figures cut into the turf of chalk hillsides in Southern England, notable in Dorset and, in this instance, on Windover Hill near Eastbourne in Sussex. The image of the Long Man of Wilmington first appeared in Ravilious; work in a 1929 engraving, and initially conceived it as a female figure opening the doors of death. In later works on the Wilmington Giant, it has been suggested rather that the male figure is a representation of Saturn opening the Gates of Day, the uprights that we popularly construe as twin staffs, originally intended by his creators to represent the perimeters of the doors of Heaven. <br /><br />Ravilious initially intended his series to form the basis of a children's book on Chalk FIgures for the Puffin series; once can only imagine how striking an addition such a book would have proved. The painted series also included The Cerne Giant, the Wiltshire Westbury Horse (which he painted on two occasions, one where it is glimpsed through the window of an expertly-rendered train carriage, the other from the top of Westbury Hill, immediately below the Iron Age hill fort of Bratton Camp, a diminutive train in the distance) and also the Weymouth and Osmington horses, all three of 18th-century in origin. He he also undertook a hugely atmospheric depiction of the Uffington Horse in Berkshire, where the figure is depicted at a distance through fields of waving grassland, which somehow renders the reality of its true scale as almost illusionary, yet no less powerful.<br /><br />Having been brought up in Eastbourne, and so closely associated with the town, Ravilious remains perhaps the most consumate portrayer of the surrounding Downland landscape, and- in the twentieth century at least- is the artist most closely associated with it. Instinctively-attuned to its contours, his dry, economical brushwork tangibly rendered the enormity of the Sussex landscape in a manner in which no other artist has successfully achieved, and solely devoid of humanity (one is at odds to discover any signs of population in these images), the very paucity of paint, and the relative expanse of visible paper on which the work was made, gives Ravilious; downland series the quality that Christopher Neve terms as 'irrisistable dryness'. In his essay 'Ravilious and Lightheartedness', which appears in his masterful collection of essays 'The Unquiet Landscape (Faber & Faber, 1990), Neve particularly cites Ravilious' image of the Wilmington Giant, and suggests that there are elements within the painting which cold be construed as a presaging of the conflict to come, particularly in terms of the heavy cumulus clouds that swirl around the apex of Windover Hill, the dark and shadowy rendering of the dip in which the figure is situated and- perhaps most of all in the string of barbed wire which cuts dramatically across the picture plane as a portent of the oncoming war. Given this, there is somehow a strong sense of defiance present in Ravilious' entire series of Hill Figure paintings, whilst elements contained within them serve to remind us all-too acutely of the artist's own eventual fate, disappearing as he did over the storm-laden skies of Iceland in his role of Official War Artist. Let it be noted, however, that there is a patch of hopeful blue in the sky above the Long Man, and undoubtedly, Ravilious would have intended this to be understood and interpreted as such.Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-76002459554955305082010-01-29T10:58:00.000-08:002010-01-29T11:34:04.673-08:00Jones the Word<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-lK5FTy22A3svrGxBnS4MTLCj3ASe2DXwqnpy5BeDF1yAYeCnsNQzb4qUMq0CaYCV6Jjk6s0b_0dlpifBtd4v831y0xcP03JzsBnhk5GJWzNnUTri1g9dsIpbmne5dniCq4zlLXNFPwlq/s1600-h/David+Jones+Inscription.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 323px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-lK5FTy22A3svrGxBnS4MTLCj3ASe2DXwqnpy5BeDF1yAYeCnsNQzb4qUMq0CaYCV6Jjk6s0b_0dlpifBtd4v831y0xcP03JzsBnhk5GJWzNnUTri1g9dsIpbmne5dniCq4zlLXNFPwlq/s400/David+Jones+Inscription.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432238572346303554" /></a><br />Of all his prodigious artistic and literary output, the painted inscriptions of David Jones (1895-1974) remain my most favourite. One of the most significant first-generation of British modernist poets, his work was informed by his Welsh heritage and by his Catholicism. T.S. Eliot considered Jones to be a poet of major importance, and <span style="font-style:italic;">Anathemata</span> (1952) was said by W.H. Auden to be the most important poem to have been written in English in the 20th century.Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-24088937091069525192009-12-19T05:06:00.000-08:002010-01-29T13:16:24.748-08:00Model Behaviour<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5dWarG-VUDdSdmzmCQ8uqCjNvEMrTLftcggAwDfcwbUHmX8wNrUo3oEnS5kzXzfY5SgGkPxfhh9XF2dU13JQYMkr9Nkqd9R45rPMbnacOae1O71U_s_9WFHrLl1NWpsdlFstwTwFfqa6j/s1600-h/Pet+Shop+Boys.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5dWarG-VUDdSdmzmCQ8uqCjNvEMrTLftcggAwDfcwbUHmX8wNrUo3oEnS5kzXzfY5SgGkPxfhh9XF2dU13JQYMkr9Nkqd9R45rPMbnacOae1O71U_s_9WFHrLl1NWpsdlFstwTwFfqa6j/s400/Pet+Shop+Boys.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416933199085373538" /></a><br />Released in 1991, 'Behaviour', the fourth studio album by the Pet Shop Boys somehow became an instant elegy for a generation. The collection of songs were deemed by <span style="font-style:italic;">Entertainment Weekly</span> to be 'heartfelt expressions of romantic distress, plus their best tunes yet'. Elsewhere, epithets such as 'sublime', 'unforgettable' and 'magnificent' were bandied about the popular music press of the time. In his blog 'A Film Canon', Billy Stevenson echoes the sentiments of all for whom the album remains firmly lodged within the heart and mind as ' pop music's answer to Proust's madeleine', and so it proves (and continues so to do) with the passing of the years, despite what has continued to be the PSBs burgeoning pop canon. The video for 'Being Boring'. the album's opening salvo (and arguably, it's most unforgettable song) was shot by Bruce Weber and, watching again with the sober benefit of experience, it appears somehow akin to a Golden Age before the Deluge, with it's seductive images of sublimely beautiful young people at play in a perfect world; somehow, as though the <span style="font-style:italic;">Jeunesse D'ore</span> of Alain-Fournier's <span style="font-style:italic;">'Le Grand Meaulnes'</span> have been beamed to the suns of California, and suffused with the perceived perfection of an <span style="font-style:italic;">Abercrombie and </span><span style="font-style:italic;">Fitch</span> universe. Stevenson continues that 'Behaviour' 'deals more with mnemosexuality than homosexuality; that is, sexuality as a search for sexuality, a journey limited by its own vocabulary, and so only accessible in terms of more general, ostensibly asexual, expressions of yearning. It feels as though the Boys only invoke betrayal- and more generally, the confessional mode- as a pretext for wider reflections on the passage of betrayal and time', and so it proves for me, all these years later, a bringing to mind (as it specifically did with Tennant) all of those who have been swept away by the ravages of time and circumstance- yet remain in memory as sharply as do these songs. As 'Court and Spark', Joni Mitchell's sublime, LA-infused album of 1974 similarly attests, there are collections of songs which simply fuse us irrevocably to our time, and can never set us free. 'Behaviour', therefore, is the touchstone for a generation of gay men, in particular- which fixes us to period when our world was less grave, but which still somehow allows us that breath of memory, the joys of love and friendship- and a recollection of a time before the Fall.<br /><br />When Tennant was interviewed for the <span style="font-style:italic;">South Bank Show</span> in 1991, he spoke eloquently about 'Being Boring'. 'A lot of our songs come about through personal experience. 'Being Boring, which I think is one of our best songs,..I was reminded of a party we had when I was living in Newcastle as a teenager' - and where the invitation purportedly contained a quote from Zelda Fitzgerald; 'She was never bored, mainly because she was never boring'.<br /><br /> Tennant went on to say that 'a very good friend of mine from that era had died of AIDS, so [the song] was a kind of an elegy for him, for the part of myself in Newcastle, all my friends in Newcastle, when I went to London, what I was doing then, but he wasn't there. And so it became a really elegiac song'. He also states that 'Being Boring' was 'also an attempt to do a Stock, Aitken and Waterman thing, believe it or not'. At it's essence, 'Being Boring' describes three distinct forms of remembrance; personal, familial and communal and, to quote Billy Stevenson once again 'conflates them in such a way as to characterize Neil Tennant's subjectivity as a mere function of his inescapable memory, and love as a mere memory in the making'. Elsewhere on the album, is the sweeping, magnificent 'This must be the Place I Waited Years to Leave', a song-testimony to the rigors of a Catholic school upbringing, and which, if memory serves, during the concert performances of their second tour, saw Chris Lowe in short trousers and a school cap. It could equally be the clarion for all of us who endured the bullying and privations of a Secondary education. 'My October Symphony' continued Tennant's fascination with Russian history, but also succeeded (as do so many other PSB songs- witness 'Go West' on 1993's 'Very', in referencing a sub-text way beyond the Village People original, a love-lament for all of those who leave their home to seek a fabled 'promised land' elsewhere). Stevenson speaks of 'Jealousy', the album's ultimate track, as set in a London apartment 'in which the past is almost architectural, so concrete is its presence'. <br /><br />For me, 'Behaviour' is forever the windswept majesty of Dungeness, and the animated trips into Rye with Derek Jarman, It is also the rooms of Streatham Hill, and of my dear friend David Kirkup, and my seventh-floor flat on the Old Kent Road. Listening again from the vantage-point of some twenty years, I am immediately transported back to these places and these people, and am more than glad to linger there for the duration; 'Behaviour' then, as a threnody for all that has gone before -and just maybe- for a domain now lost to us forever. A small photograph on the rear page of the CD boooklet shows the empty Arts and Crafts chair that Lowe has occupied on its front cover, the roses they cradle now strewn on the floor. If ever there was a metaphor for loss, the remembrance of time past (to plunder the Proustian epithet once more) this is it. One thing is for certain; it is with 'Behaviour' that the fabled chance-meeting of Tennant and Lowe in a King's Road hi-fi store truly reaches its apotheosis, and we, for all our gratitude, will never be the same again.Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-33724911008226657542009-10-26T10:46:00.000-07:002009-11-01T11:39:51.422-08:00Heaven and Earth; A Eulogy for William Dyce's 'Pegwell Bay'<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTyFuQ7kuPghZBIVemFrPGDzQFfjKVfUnyeFZhkyZYzjsUBEoUciIcgMocpz0oCHU7bnToxEXc3ivFCIVFSlHMol6ffsuA93-xlRbATOx39HjsR8IuRV7PJdejOw-4C1E0gBzbLM6_uMWB/s1600-h/PegwellBay_Dyce.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 285px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTyFuQ7kuPghZBIVemFrPGDzQFfjKVfUnyeFZhkyZYzjsUBEoUciIcgMocpz0oCHU7bnToxEXc3ivFCIVFSlHMol6ffsuA93-xlRbATOx39HjsR8IuRV7PJdejOw-4C1E0gBzbLM6_uMWB/s400/PegwellBay_Dyce.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396966643680779138" /></a><br />Pegwell Bay, situated on the estuary of the River Stour between Ramsgate and Sandwich, is the setting for one of the most evocative images of the Pre-Raphaelite era. Subtitled 'A Recollection of October 5th 1858', William Dyce's painting was the result of a trip made in the autumn of that year, and depicts members of his family searching for shells and fossils on the beach of the then-popular holiday resort. The meticulous rendering of the cliff-face reflected Dyce's keen interest in geology, as did his careful treatment of the flint-encrusted strata of the beach below them. The barely-visible tail of Donati's comet in the sky above places the activities of the human figures below within the broader scheme of time and space, and its inclusion as a fundamental facet of Dyce's composition, mirrored his fascination with astronomy and with the workings of the heavens. The <span style="font-style:italic;"></span><span style="font-style:italic;">plein air</span><span style="font-style:italic;"></span> feel to the painting is due the fact that, following Ruskin's precepts, Dyce made his initial studies in-situ, and the entire mood of the image is charged with questions about man and his place in nature. The location is also significant, as it was believed to be the first site of early Christian activity in the British Isles and was also a famous location for fossil hunters, particularly during the Victorian era, when the fascination for all things paleontological reached its zenith. <br /><br />So expertly rendered, the chalk-cliffs of Dyce's painting are still clearly discernible to the contemporary onlooker. The car-park that overlooks the painting's viewpoint now lays in the vast shadow of 'Hugin', a viking longboat which was a gift from the people of Denmark to the population of the region in 1949 and which underwent extensive restoration in 2004. Hoverlloyd's 1960's cross-chanel port was located here, the vestiges of which have been almost entirely reclaimed by nature, particularly the concrete launch ramp that now trails off amid swathes of sedge and salt-flats now home to wading birds and willow warblers. Dominating the skyline is the mad, <span style="font-style:italic;">jugenstij</span>l tower of the Belle Vue hotel which dwarfs the Victorian flint-built cottages that surround it, whilst in the sky, a continuous stream of freight aircraft fly low over the beach into Manston airport, forever replacing the mysterious comet which, like Breugel's 'Icarus', goes unnoticed by Dyce's crinolined subjects as they search the beach for their geological treasures.Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-3135521656258893902009-10-17T12:17:00.000-07:002009-10-17T12:42:31.857-07:00Quiet Witnesses<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdodQuR5GgJBaryBkZo2C5aGHkBl6KDVvVtWjndmQgQX6CioiNDwKCa9FCt1apnqgVxGUXrRbPSot7FMiz75ILuoLCY38BiIDo40SqAMcSxyM5Rri-3g_u8lcHYxexK_AfOKjw2cYBzij7/s1600-h/IMG_0180.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdodQuR5GgJBaryBkZo2C5aGHkBl6KDVvVtWjndmQgQX6CioiNDwKCa9FCt1apnqgVxGUXrRbPSot7FMiz75ILuoLCY38BiIDo40SqAMcSxyM5Rri-3g_u8lcHYxexK_AfOKjw2cYBzij7/s400/IMG_0180.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393650448247718626" /></a><br />These simple chairs line the walls of the small North chapel of St. Clement, Old Romney in Kent. One of the most-visited of all the Marsh churches, it was built on an artificial mound to protect it from floodwaters. Old Romney churches have a sensibility that is unique, and in common say, with Fairfield and St. Mary-in-the-Marsh, St. Clement leaves a lasting impression on the visitor. Norman in origin, the nave was enlarged in the 13th century, when the aisles were added. Aside from this, it remains virtually unrestored, with an uneven floor, and a gallery which is reached by means of the narrow, somewhat vertiginous wooden staircase. Elsewhere, the rood-loft staircase, discovered in the 1920s retains its medieval door-frame. In the North chapel where these chairs reside is the mensa of the original medieval altar, with rails that date from the 18th century. The striking box pews also date from the late 18th century and retain the strawberry ice-cream pink that they were painted by the Rank film company for their film of 'Dr. Syn', based on Russell Thorndyke's novel 'A Tale of the Romney Marsh', written in 1915 and based on the exploits of the infamous 18th century smuggler in the region. The Royal Coat of Arms of George III also date back to the 18th century, which includes a lion with a benign yet smug expression. The capitals of the font are embellished with different figures and date back to the 14th century. Despite much depreciation, it is still possible to discern the characteristics of the individual grotesque creatures that they represent. Derek Jarman is buried in the churchyard, and his simple grave, marked by a solid piece of slate bearing his distinctive signature, often has flowers, messages and small votives that have been left by admirers as he lays in the shadow of the great yew near the church's perimeter fence.Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6015177819655619517.post-38022219182630340642009-10-17T09:02:00.000-07:002009-10-17T09:25:41.040-07:00Cowboy Small still rides the Range<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjZb9kThDGhjZhp4YaDunGi8ptVMpRtkeI1n6k8kInvL9i016B1kyqWKuUAf8iPzAnyvU7RNT-wiydWczdL8OaFTLvjpY1f4kU0G0p_kejFZasxohRwA5b_NGOLYnLlrmaTVG_TK5neEjW/s1600-h/20060810Cowboy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 388px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjZb9kThDGhjZhp4YaDunGi8ptVMpRtkeI1n6k8kInvL9i016B1kyqWKuUAf8iPzAnyvU7RNT-wiydWczdL8OaFTLvjpY1f4kU0G0p_kejFZasxohRwA5b_NGOLYnLlrmaTVG_TK5neEjW/s400/20060810Cowboy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393600351083420498" /></a><br />Originally published in 1949, Lois Lenski's 'Cowboy Small' remains a delightful tale beloved of children worldwide. With his horse Cactus, the diminutive Wild West character greets his readers under the Bar S Ranch sign. Cowboy takes good care of Cactus, who helps him get work done around the ranch, rounding up cattle for branding, and generally they live the good life. At night, Cowboy sleeps in the chuck wagon, sings with his friends, and sleeps under the stars. In short, easily-read stanzas, accompanied by Lenski's captivating illustrations, the daily life of the ranch is made clear to her readers. The book also includes a section which explains the equipment used by horse and cowboy, which features images of attire and equine gear. Lenski wrote and illustrated more than ninety books for children, and won many awards during her long career. This edition, with its cloth cover and charming image of Cowboy Small and Cactus dates from the 1950's.Graham Wardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894080442058389321noreply@blogger.com0