Quiet Witnesses

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.

The Dark Monarch's Door: Sven Berlin's studio in St Ives

This ghostly indicator is to be found on the door of a two-storey building in Porthmeor Road, near the Island in St. Ives, Cornwall. Possibly rendered in his hand, the inscription denotes the studio of sculptor, painter and writer Sven Berlin, one of the last surviving members of the St Ives School. The son of a Swedish timber merchant from Sydenham, Berlin never received formal art school training, and was mainly self-taught. His previous career was as a music hall dancer, which bought him into contact with such luminaries of the profession as Bud Flanagan and Nervo and Knox. He came to Cornwall in 1938, and received some training in watercolour from Arthur Hamley, an artist based in nearby Redruth. He spent some time as a gardener in 'Little Park Owles', the large house belonging to painters Adrian Stokes and Margaret Mellis which overlooked St Ives Bay. It was through Mellis and Stokes that he came into contact with Ben Nicholson, Barbara Hepworth and their coterie, and was later affiliated to the infuential 'Crypt' group, which also included artists such as Bryan Wynter and Patrick Heron. Beginning World War Two as a conscientious objector, he changed his opinion of the conflict after becoming deeply affected by some naval bombing in the Channel, subsequently serving in the Army in France. During his tour of duty, he sent back a series of diary-like letters to Stokes, and these formed the basis of 'I am Lazarus', which was published in 1961. It was during the war that he also spent time working on the first (and some would say definitive) monograph on Alfred Wallis, the primitive painter first 'discovered' by Nicholson and Christopher Wood, who began painting in his eighties 'for company', and who died in Madron Workhouse in 1942. First published in 1948, Berlin portrayed Wallis as an 'exploited genius'- to quote Peter Davies in Berlin's obituary from 1999. Berlin's verdict of Wallis' fate angered Nicholson, and as a result, he became estranged from what he perceived as the Nicholson stranglehold in the dealings of the Penwith Society, which largely dominated the St Ives movement.

Berlin's graphic style most resembles that of Henri Gaudier-Brzeska, particularly in those images that accompany his own books, According to Davies; 'his subjects were "folky', concentrating on harbour life, on the fishermen and on labourers. Such motifs were no more mundane than they were polemical or political; a flamboyant, expressionistic use of colour imparted a mood of almost mythical intensity'.

Berlin left Cornwall in 1953, profoundly disillusioned with the abstract formalism of the St Ives movement and, encouraged by Augustus John, moved to the New Forest, and became fascinated with the gypsy communities residing there. Romany culture became the pivotal component in his novel 'Dromengro; Man of the Road'. published in 1971. His continued interest in fishing and the fishing community also produced the 1964 book 'Jonah's Dream'. Berlin ran a small zoo in the 1960s with his second wife Helga, and it was during this period that he produced 'The Dark Monarch', a barely-fictionalised sort of roman-a-clef, based on his experiences in St Ives. It was withdrawn from sale after four successful libel actions by the extended families of some of the original St Ives painters. He returned to canvas painting in the 1970s, living on the Isle of Wight with his third wife, and his final years were lived in Wimbourne in Dorset, where he continued to write. He produced an autobiography, entitled 'Coat of Many Colours' was published in 1994 and followed by a second volume in 1996, entitled 'Virgo in Exile'.

The Museum of British Folklore at Tate Modern

Over the hot Bank Holiday weekend, Tate Modern hosted 'The House of Fairytales'. In the looming shadow of the former power station, a number of events were staged, and the Museum's caravan (not to mention its charismatic curator) proved a popular attraction amongst the puppet shows and performance artists. We went down in the afternoon of the very hot Sunday to find Simon, as-ever resplendent in his new coat, sporting the now-famous Stephen Jones stovepipe, talking to visitors and taking them through the delights of the caravan's magical interior. Viewed at a distance from the Turbine Hall, the caravan looked resplendent with its fluttering bunting and its fantasmagorical fairground livery and, as ever, Costin cut a dash as he moved through the animated crowds at the event. See the Museum of British Folklore website for details of Simon's upcoming appearances around the country, or my earlier post for the full tour itinerary.

Festival!

This little cut-out was given to me some years ago by Abram Games, designer of the 1951 Festival of Britain logo. Having just rediscovered it between the pages of my copy of 'A Tonic to the Nation', the catalogue of the exhibition staged by the Victoria and Albert Museum in 1976 to mark the Festival's 25th anniversary, I thought it was high time that the little ballerinas danced once more. Also shown is the original invitation for 'Black Eyes and Lemonade', the exhibition of British popular art organised by the Whitechapel Art Gallery under the direction of Barbara Jones. Bringing up the rear, a copy of the general catalogue for the Festival, also featuring Games' iconic design of Britannia's head with compass points. He once told me that he added the string of bunting as an afterthought when the organizers decided it would lend the design a more festive touch.

The Shell Ladies of Margate

Margate's famous seafront has seen a clutch of new and glamorous visitors this Summer. Broadstairs-based artist Ann Carrington has created a bevy of conchological beauties that have set the town alight with their magical arrival. Based on the miniature shell figures so familiar to our collective childhoods, and still available in some seaside shops, Ann took their old-world charm and ran with it, all the way, it would seem, into the hearts of Margate's residents. The project has recently culminated in the grand unveiling (by Ann's son Isaac) of a nine-foot high bronze figure based on Turner's mistress Mrs. Booth. She stands on the Harbour Arm and gazes longingly out to sea, whilst her retinue of twelve other ladies are painstakingly fashioned from hundreds of real scallop shells collected from local fishermen in the area. Gliding mysteriously from place to place by means of hidden castors, these striking figures are based on the town's famous former residents, amongst them Baroness Orczy, author of 'The Scarlet Pimpernel' and Phyllis Broughton, the renowned Gaiety Girl from the 1890s. Walls and windows on Margate's seafront have recently been embellished with eye-catching signs, which enquire of the casual onlooker; 'Have you seen the Shell Ladies of Margate?' with the traditional Victorian device of the pointing hand that leads the way to their seaside lair. At once utterly contemporary, yet also possessed of an elegiac yearning for things of a bygone era, Carrington's Shell Ladies look set to lead the town towards its proposed reinvention as the jewel of the Kentish coast, dazzling all in their wake. To see more of the Shell Ladies of Margate, and to read about their creation, see www.anncarrington.co.uk