Kristine Hughes's Blog, page 84

CONSTABLE AT THE VICTORIA AND ALBERT MUSEUM, LONDON

Victoria here. Kristine and I were fortunate enough to attend  preview of the Constable exhibition now on view at the Victoria and Albert museum in London.

    According to the Exhibition curator, "Constable: The Making of Master reveals the hidden stories of how John Constable created some of his most loved and well-known paintings. On display are such famous works as The Haywain together with the oil sketches he painted outdoors direct from nature." The exhibition continues in London until January 11, 2015. If you are near London, don't miss it.     Constable is one of England's best-loved painters. Born in 1776 in Suffolk, he studied hard to become a painter of note, though he was elected to the Royal Academy only at age 52. The exhibition looks at the paintings he studied, and shows many of his sketches for later works that continue to capture the public imagination two hundred years later.    John Constable 1776-1837Self Portrait, from the National Portrait Gallery, London   Thomas Gainsborough, Landscape with a Pool, c. 1747Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge University Among the many influences on Constable was his fellow native of East Anglia, Thomas Gainsborough (1727-1788). Constable is said to have preferred the more natural style of Gainsborough's early landscapes to his celebrated portraiture.  Below, Landscape with a Pool in the Constable exhibition.      Claude Lorrain (1604/5-82) -- below -- was another strong influence on Constable in developing his landscape style.    Landscape with Hagar and the Angel, 1646, by Claude LorrainNational Gallery, London   Constable, Dedham Vale from the Coombs, 1802, V and A CollectionShows the influences of the Claude work above which Constable knew well.  Another early work by Constable is below.   Moonlight Landscape with Hadleigh Church, 1796Private Collection   Constable, Two Studies of Ploughs, 1814V and A Constable was a careful draughtsman as well as an inspired and imaginative painter.  He worked hard to reach accuracy in all regards, as in the studies of ploughs (above and clouds (below).  This study of clouds dates from about 1821. Another technique Constable experimented with was painting outside, in the open air. Work had to be fast to catch the light effects before they changed. The work below was done in a friend;s grdin in about an hour.  The Close, Salisbury, 1829V and A    Part of the fun of attending a press preview is watching the other writers and photographers at work.       From the text panel: "Drawing on Glass...Constable captured scenes from nature by sketching them on paper.  His initial pencil drawing could then be inked over and squared up to transfer the composition to a canvas for painting We can see this method in the surviving preparatory sketch and its finished paining Watermeadows at Salisbury."  Sketch: Watermeadows at Salisbury 1829-30  Constable, Watermeadows at Salisbury, 1829-30V and A 
Two versions of the renowned Constable painting The HayWain 1821   Salisbury Cathedral from the Bishop's Grounds, 1823V and A While preparing the exhibition, conservators at the V and A discovered an oil sketch on the reverse side of Branch Hill Pond, Hampstead.  A special mount was designed to show both paintings, showing, " a narrow clearing fringed by  trees against an unsettled sky...probably made in the late summer of 1821 or 1822 when Constable painted a number of sketches featuring similar could studies and motifs..."  Branch Hill Pond, Hampstead, 1821-22 (above)   Landscape with a Kiln, 1821-22on the reverse   Constable The Opening of Waterloo Bridge seenfrom Whitehall Stairs June 18th, 18171832, Tate Britain  This is just a taste of the many delights in this outstanding exhibition curated by Dr. Mark Evans, FSA, Senior Curator of Paintings at the Victoria and Albert Museum.  Highly recommended!!The exhibition website is here.

 

VIDEO WEDNESDAY

Who Do You Think You Are?
Davina McCallIs family legend true and is she in fact descended from an illegitimate son of George IV?!
Join her search through Regency England 
and Windsor by clicking here

INTERESTING DOORS WE SAW AROUND LONDON

White's Club


Lock's Hatters


Marlborough House gatehouse

Kenwood House

Lock's Hatters, rear door 








Scotland Office (Dover House), Whitehall

A VICTORIAN OBSESSION: THE PEREZ SIMON COLLECTION AT LEIGHTON HOUSE MUSEUM

John Everett Millais. The Crown of Love. 1875. Oil on canvas.
14 November 2014 – 29 March 2015
Today saw the opening of A Victorian Obsession: The Pérez Simón Collection at Leighton House
Museum which presents rarely seen masterpieces of Victorian art belonging to the Mexican collector
Juan Antonio Pérez Simón. Until the 29 March 2015 visitors to Leighton House Museum will
experience 52 exceptional paintings from the largest Victorian private art collection outside Great
Britain, shown for the first time in the UK. Alongside six works by Frederic, Lord Leighton (four of
which will be returning to the house in which they were painted) A Victorian Obsession presents
paintings which have seldom if ever been exhibited before by many of the most celebrated Victorian
artists, illustrating the astonishingly diverse representations of women that characterised this period of British art.

The images range from the domestic to the romantic and from the symbolic to the overtly sensual.
The exhibition’s highlights include Alma-Tadema’s magnificent The Roses of Heliogabalus (1888), an iconic image of Roman decadence which has not been exhibited in London since 1913. One of the
great paintings of the Victorian era, it memorably depicts the Emperor Heliogabalus’s suffocation of
his guests beneath a torrent of rose petals. Leighton’s Greek Girls Picking up Pebbles by the Sea
(1871) is one of his earliest and most striking ‘aesthetic’ works, placing formal harmony above
narrative content and showing Leighton as the master of English drapery. Two further works,
Antigone (1882) and the sexually charged Crenaia, the Nymph of the Dargle (1880), feature the
model Dorothy Dene. Leighton’s relationship with Dene was significant in his later years, when her
role as his principal model, muse and social companion was widely commented on.


On his collection being displayed at Leighton House, Juan Antonio Pérez Simón commented ‘It is an
honour to be a part of the journey that allows these masterpieces to be shown in such an authentic
setting, and in some cases returning to their home. It gives me great joy to know that the public will be able to appreciate these exceptional paintings, making us accomplices in our everlasting duty to
nourish the spirit.’


Frederic, Lord Leighton Greek girls picking up pebbles by the sea, 1871

Senior Curator for Leighton House Museum, Daniel Robbins said ‘It has been a wonderful opportunity to work so closely with this fantastic collection of pictures. The House is now transformed by the paintings and the paintings enhanced by setting them within Leighton’s decorative interiors; there has never been an exhibition where so many outstanding pictures of this period has been shown in such a special and sympathetic environment. It’s a unique setting and a special moment for the public to see these works, some of which are returning home to the very place they were painted.

Councillor Timothy Coleridge, Cabinet Member for Planning Policy, Transport and Arts, the Royal
Borough of Kensington and Chelsea, commented ‘It is a great honour for us to be hosting the only UK exhibition of this prestigious collection at Leighton House Museum. There could be no more fitting venue than Leighton’s studio-house where some of the works were actually painted and which was familiar to so many of the artists who are represented in the exhibition. We look forward to welcoming many new visitors to discover the museum and collection for the first time and enjoy a unique aesthetic experience.’


Venue: Leighton House Museum, open daily except Tuesdays, 10am - 5.30pm
Entry: £10 / £6 concessions / Art Fund and National Trust Members 50% discount
Ticket booking: www.rbkc.gov.uk/buytickets / 0800 912 6968
More information: www.rbkc.gov.uk/AVictorianObsession

WATERLOO 200 - THE DUKE AT THE NATIONAL PORTRAIT GALLERY

National Portrait Gallery aims for "fuller picture" of the Duke of Wellington on Waterloo anniversary
A young officer's diary destined for his sweetheart 200 years ago, a daguerreotype portrait by Antoine Claudet and Goya reworks enforced by military honours will be among the highlights when the first gallery exhibition devoted to the Duke of Wellington’s life opens next year, the National Portrait Gallery has announced.

Marking the 200th anniversary of the Battle of Waterloo, the display of 59 portraits aims to reveal how the art world took on the political, military and personal life of the Duke, including Goya’s view of Wellington entering Madrid, started in 1812 but modified twice to reflect his later honours and awards.


Francisco de Goya, Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington (1812-14)© National Gallery, LondonThomas Lawrence’s portrait was painted in the year of the Battle of Waterloo, becoming the basis for the British £5 note for 20 years from 1971.

A work by John Hoppner, of the Duke as a youthful soldier, will be one of several rarely-seen loans from the family of the Marquess of Douro, as well as the Claudet portrait, from Wellington’s 75th birthday, in 1844, and a drawing of his wife, Kitty, made by Lawrence and described as “beautiful” by curators.

A key concern of the exhibition will fall upon the soldiers who fought in Wellington’s armies, represented by eyewitness accounts and prints based on sketches by servicemen. Several satirical prints published during the Duke’s two spells as Prime Minister will also appear.

“The Duke of Wellington’s victory over Napoleon at Waterloo is well known,” observed Paul Cox, an Associate Curator at the gallery.


Benjamin Robert Haydon, The Duke of Wellington showing the Prince Regent (later George IV) the battlefield of Waterloo (circa 1844)© Stratfield Saye Preservation Trust“This exhibition provides the opportunity to examine less familiar aspects of his life, including the long political career during which he saw through important forward-looking legislation, but suffered a dramatic loss of popularity.

“I hope that visitors to the exhibition will gain a fuller picture of Wellington as a man, rather than simply as a hero. ’”

Wellington: Triumphs, Politics and Passions is at the National Portrait Gallery, London from March 12 – June 7 2015. Part of the Waterloo 200th Anniversary Commemorations, visit waterloo200.org.

VIDEO WEDNESDAY

Last Week Tonight with John Oliver: Dr. Jane Goodall Interview 

LOOSE IN LONDON: KRISTINE'S FIRST DAY - PART THREE

Victoria arrives!


In front of the hotel

Victoria here.  You wouldn't believe the scene I encountered upon entering our room at the Sloane Square Hotel.  Kristine, usually smiling and eager -- Kristine, usually dressed attractively and appropriately -- Kristine, usually eager to impart all her latest adventures -- yes, this Kristine was a faint shadow of herself.  I won't describe her appearance or her demeanor any further.  You wouldn't believe it!
Of course I had been in France for two weeks before kissing Hubby goodbye at DeGaulle and flying to Londonwhile he returned home to the US. I was thoroughly accustomed to the time zone. I was ready for our big London fiesta: over three weeks in heaven -- exploring, learning, photographing, leading The Duke of Wellington tour, more touring -- a perfect storm of delight.
Kristine and I had been looking forward to this first meeting of ours in London, which would signal the beginning of our long anticipated English Idyll. So who was this disheveled half-conscious wraith that faced me now upon my arrival in our cluttered room, already looking like the typhoon had just passed on? Well, never one to coddle -- or condescend -- I shed my own two, compact travel bags and began to chatter.  "We had a great time in Paris, blah, blah, blah..."
Two eyes made a valiant effort to open wide...and failed.  Slight acknowledgement of my arrival with a nod.
"We went to Malmaison, loved the Rodin Museum, blah, blah, yadda.....why are you sitting there in the window like that? Were you watching for me?"
At last, the wraith sat up and came alive.  "No. I didn’t want to lay on the bed because I’d have fallen asleep and then I’d screw up my sleep pattern. I have to stay awake until bedtime tonight. So, here I am, looking out of the bay window just like Brummell at Whites."
Well, not exactly, but close enough.  We managed a big hug and, ever so gingerly, Kristine began telling me of her ordeal.  And there was Big Red, all right.  Immense enough to carry supplies for the Siege of Badjos, as well as several boxes of materials for the Wellington Tour. 
Aha!  No wonder Kristine felt like a beast of burden -- she had way too much to carry. 

Kristine picks up the tale -

“I need a drink,” I told Victoria.
“I shouldn’t wonder,” she replied. “The state of you!”
“Duke of Wellington pub?”
“Absolutely! As planned. Egad, but we’ve been looking forward to this moment for months now. Our first drink together in London! Almost a month of Wellingtonmerriment ahead of us! Downton Abbey! Copenhagen! The WellingtonTour! Open Houses Weekend! Mudlarking! . . . . . . . why on earth are you wearing those things?”
I’d pulled on my fur topped boots while Victoria was rhapsodizing about the weeks ahead of us. “You’re going to have to trust me on this – they’re the only shoes I can wear right now. Everything else is too painful.”
Victoriablinked. “It’s in the 70’s outside. Those are boots.”
“I know. But they’re all I have at the moment.”
“Yeah, but it’s summer and . . . . . . . “
I grabbed Victoriaby the arm and practically frog marched her to the door, “Let’s go. I’ll tell you all about it once we’re at the pub.”
“Are you really going to wear those in public? They’ve got fur, for God’s sake.”
“I can leave a few minutes after you and meet you at the pub. That way no one will know that you’re with me. And my feet will be under the table once we get there. No one will notice my boots.”
“Don’t be silly.”
“Sorry. I thought you were ashamed to be seen with me.”
“I am ashamed to be seen with you. I said don’t be silly because I can’t go without you. I don’t know where the pub is.”
Thankfully, it was but a short stroll to the Duke ofWellington pub on Ebury Street. It was early enough that the place was nearly deserted. An adorable barman who looked to be about thirteen years old asked us what we’d be having. 


Now a strange thing happened. As you may recall, I had been dreaming of a stiff rum and Coke all day long, but now that we stood before the beer taps, I suddenly wanted nothing more than a cold pint. Unfortunately, the pub had many micro brews and specialty ales. Not a recognizable brand in sight. The infant barman was kind enough to allow Victoria and I to taste a few before we ordered.




In the end, Victoria and both opted for the Oranjeboom which was fabulous. Here's how it's described:

'Quirkily Continental', Oranjeboom is a Dutch classic and was judged the 'best draught lager in the world' at the Brewing Industry International Awards. A delicious, easy-drinking Dutch drop with a hay-like hue and a herbaceous, grassy and fruity fragrance. Citrus notes on the palate speak softly of orange, kiwi and lemongrass buttressed with a hint of caramel sweetness and a gentle, drifting finish.

After our first sips, we took up our glasses and spent a good few minutes examining and photographing all of the Wellington memorabilia ranged around the walls. They even had a copy of one of my favourite Wellington portraits, which I fondly refer to as the Grandpa Artie image.







Finally, we found an empty table and took a load off. Victoria told me about her two weeks in France, whilst I regaled her with tales of my poor feet. And the Royal Hospital.

"I still can't believe that no on there knows where the painting is hung," I said, relating the story of my search for the painting entitled The Chelsea Pensioners Reading the Waterloo Despatch.

"Or what the painting is," Victoria added.

"Yeah. I mean where else would it be but at the Royal Hospital?"

"Come to think of it, I could swear I've seen it somewhere before," Victoria mused.

"At the Royal Hospital?"

"I can't recall, but somewhere. You know, there were probably a few copies made when it was commissioned by the Duke of Wellington. It was a fairly common practice. There are at least three copies of the Lawrence portrait of Artie."

"I know. I think I've seen the Chelsea Pensioners before, too, come to think of it."

"Where? You haven't been to the Royal Hospital before today."

"Damned if I know."

"Do you think we saw it when we went to the National Army Museum?" Victoria asked.

I took a sip of beer. "Could be. It seems to me that I saw it someplace in London. Someplace connected to Artie."

"Where else in London could it be?" Victoria asked. "Horse Guards?"

"Haven't the foggiest, but I'm going to go back to the Royal Hospital when we get back to London in a few weeks time to see if they find out where it is. This mystery is driving me crazy."

Eventually, we moved on to discussing other things and ordering dinner, after which I was truly ready for bed. As I fell asleep, I thought about our agenda for the next day - the newly renovated Kenwood House and Highgate Cemetery. Life was good. Even when your feet hurt.

Next installment coming soon!

THE WELLINGTON CONNECTION: WARWICK CASTLE

From the Journal of Mrs. Arbuthnot, November 8, 1823

      We returned home on the 4th to receive the Duke of Wellington, who staid with us till the 7th, yesterday, when we came to Warwick Castle to a ball given last night by Lady W. It was very magnificent. The old Towers were lighted up, but unfortunately there was such a fog it was hardly visible. We have spent the morning in walking round the walls and shewing the Castle to the Duke, who has never been here before. It is quite provoking to see the little interest the owners of this fine old relique of Baronial splendour and power take in it. The Castle is full of fine old family pictures, and they don't know one of them; they scarcely know their way about the walls; and Lord Warwick, instead of shewing it to the Duke, told Mr. Arbuthnot he should wait till every body was gone out and then go and poke about by himself!

THANKSGIVING DINNER WITH BEN FRANKLIN

The Benjamin Franklin House Invites You to 
Thanksgiving Dinner





LOCATION: Clothworkers' Hall, Dunster Court, 

Mincing Lane, London EC3R 7AH


Thursday 27 November, 7.30pm


An American Thanksgiving feast with all the trimmings will

take place at the magnificent Clothworkers’ Hall. Roast 
turkey will be the highlight of the meal, which will also
 include corn bread stuffing, mashed potatoes, green beans, 
maple glazed parsnips, carrots and sweet potatoes, onions
 and cranberry sauce. 
Dessert: Pumpkin pie with whipped cream. 
House red or white wine included in ticket price.

Franklin, in addition to suggesting the
turkey become one of America’s national symbols, practised
cooking it as part of his early work on electricity.




Tickets: £75 Adult/ £35 Child
Proceeds support the Benjamin Franklin House


Click for our Booking Form

Book tickets early to avoid disappointment! 
.Benjamin Franklin House, 36 Craven Street WC2N 5NF
Phone: +44(0)207 839 2006 or 
Email: info@BenjaminFranklinHouse.org 

LOOSE IN LONDON: KRISTINE'S FIRST DAY - PART TWO

Leaving our hotel for the third time today, I made my way to the Sloane Squaretube station and topped up my Royal Wedding Oyster Card before getting on the District Line to Victoria Station. I changed to the Victoria Line and rode that up to Green Park, where I exited the tube station to find myself in the Park, bathed in glorious sunshine as I surveyed the rows of sunbathers in their blue and white striped rental chairs. I, you may recall, was wearing fur topped boots, whilst all around me people were stripped down to the barest minimum of clothing as they enjoyed the sunshine. “Look!” I told myself, “A British park!” I walked the short distance to the path that runs behind Spencer House from the Mall up to Piccadilly and took that up to the street. I looked down to the left to where Apsley House stands. A mere four blocks away (approximately). Home! At long last!
I was beginning to feel a tad tired and so decided to do Hatchard’s, followed by Café Nero, before strolling down to No. 1.  Oh, Hatchard’s. Someone should write an ode to this bookshop. Someone probably has, as there’s much to wax lyrical about. On this particular day, the thing I most appreciated about Hatchard’s were the chairs they had scattered about. After finding the latest title in the 44 Scotland Streetseries, I carried the book over to a chair and took the weight off my aching feet. Sitting there was like Heaven. Hatchard’s was Heaven. Bertie’s latest adventure was Heaven. Being in Londonwas Heaven. The only drawbacks were that my feet were absolutely killing me and I was beginning to feel rotten. Really rotten. Tired and achy and hot.
“Look! You’re in London! At Hatchard’s! Just down the street from Apsley House!”
“Don’t care.”
“What!? Blasphemy! Hello? London. When a man is tired of London, a man . . . . . “
“Do shut up.”
“Maybe you should have a coffee. Café Nero is just next door in St. James’s churchyard.”
“Yes, I know where it is. This is not my first rodeo, thank you. I have been there before. Once or twice. At the very least. Thank you. Ever so much. Have you any further nuggets of redundant information you feel compelled to share with me or may we simply repair now to the spot in question?”
“Well, excuse mefor breathing.”
One knows that one is not feeling at one’s best when one can’t even summon the courtesy to be civil to oneself.
I fought my way out of the chair and onto my feet. Sitting down had been a bad idea. A truly terrible idea, as now my feet positively screamed with every step I took. I hobbled over to the check-out desk and paid for my book, feeling slightly cheated when the clerk thanked me for my purchase in an American accent.




Using what felt like the last of my reserves, I found my way into the churchyard, through the market and to Café Nero, where I ordered a coffee and a raspberry muffin. Taking these outside, I sat at a table, cracked my book open and sipped my coffee. Thank God for small mercies.




“I don’t know . . . . you should be a lot happier right now. I mean you’re in London. On Piccadilly. Having a coffee from Café Nero. Down the road from Apsley House. Within crawling distance of Fortnum and Mason and the Burlington Arcade. Brummell’s statue, even.”
“You’re right," I agreed with myself. "I knowyou’re right, but somehow I can’t summon even a scrap of enthusiasm for any of it. To be honest with you, I don’t know if I’ve got the wherewithal left to get ourselves back to Sloane Squareon the tube. It suddenly all seems too much.”
“Hold on . . . . does this mean we’re not going to Apsley House?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“What? Am I hearing this right? We’re finally here, it’s just down there, and yet we’re not going? Is that what I’m hearing?”

"I can honestly say that I shouldn't enjoy it if we did, strange as it is to hear myself say that. I might be able to summon up some enthusiasm for the place if, say, you were to tell me that the Duke of Wellington was there, waiting to greet us. The first Duke, mind. Otherwise, I have no wish to take the chance of embarrassing myself by passing out cold in the Piccadilly Drawing Room. Not that I'd actually be able to climb the stairs to the first floor." So me and myself sat reading for a bit longer whilst we finished our coffee, people watching from the comfort of my chair. At last, I dragged my way out of the churchyard and along Piccadilly, sparing not a glance at the glorious window displays at Fortnums nor the merest peek at the Burlington Arcade. My eyes were fixed upon the Green Park tube station as I prayed I had enough gas left to find my way back to Sloane Square.

If I got out at Victoria Station, I'd be able to secure myself some Coke and so be able to make myself a rum and same once back in our hotel room. However, that would entail my climbing many steps out of the tube, through the Station proper to the nearest shop and then doing it all in reverse order to board the train again. It was simply beyond me. Besides, I honestly felt myself too tired to be bothered with drinking the demon rum. The situation was dire, indeed.

Thank God (and I say that sincerely) our room was ready by the time I returned to the hotel. I carried the bag with my laptop in it to the room myself, leaving Big read and my other bag for the staff to bring up.



It must be said that I've stolen the photo above off the internet and this is not exactly what our room looked like - we had twin beds, but the rest is fairly spot on. We had a window just like this one, overlooking Sloane Square. I got out my book, pulled off my boots and sank gratefully onto the bed. Then I sat bolt upright. I had two hours before Victoria arrived at the hotel. If I lay on the bed, I would surely fall asleep. I could have sworn that I'd slept on the flight over to England, but you couldn't have proven it by me. I felt exhausted. If I fell asleep now, I'd be out like a light. And up again in just two hours. I'd only feel worse by the time Victoria arrived. Oh, how the two of us had looked forward to our meeting - finally - in Sloane Square. I couldn't screw this up. I had to be awake, at the very least. So I pulled the desk chair over to the window and sat bolt upright upon it. Then I began to giggle. I was sitting in a London bow window, surveying the scene before me a la Brummell, my feet sore, my body beyond tired and my mind, obviously, deranged. I definitely should have stopped for Coke. I already had the rum. I'd packed a bottle of it in my suitcase. Which, come to think of it, may have gone some way towards the overage in the weight of my luggage.

Reader, you'll understand that as far as I was concerned, Victoria couldn't arrive soon enough.

Part Three Coming Soon!