Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Canady's 'Lives of the Painters'
Yesterday into a village in darkest Surrey called Compton to visit the Watts' shrine, Watts being a successful Victorian painter and sculptor who, oddly, declined a baronetage at the the time that Millais got his. The same chap whose horse we disliked on August 2nd last year.
First stop was the memorial chapel, kindly donated to the village by his grieving widow and more a memorial to some of the rather odd fancies of the arts and crafts people than anything else. Quite a promising confection from the outside, in red brick and terracotta, set amid some handsome trees, including some large beeches. Inside however, one's first thought was that the place would make an excellent film setting for something from Tolkien. All hobbits and runes - and which reminded BH of the mosaic above the stage at the Wigmore Hall. A lot of people had worked hard on the thing but the overall effect was not very holy, with the lack of holiness being highlighted by the large voices of the groups of ladies who lunched in the surrounding area. (The place might have been a village once but I expect that the nearest thing to a villager today would be the Polish housekeeper or the Filipino maid).
Second stop was the gallery, home to a large number of works of the master. Sadly the galleries were not really big enough to show the larger ones off to best advantage, something that many of them needed. One was also conscious that the chap was very into bared & stretched necks with heads turning away. Was he interested in sacrifice? Overall, the quality was rather mixed to say the least, although I did like some of his portraits. Bit of a mystery how the chap made so much money that his widow (he took a second, much younger wife, quite late in life) could set up and endow the shrine. Although not so much that they disdained money from the likes of the National Lottery. They are also in transition from a small place to a big place marked up on the tourist trail, taking buses. The systems are creaking a bit, and for my money it is a pity they were unable to continue small and cosy.
We also got to see the sculpture studio which contained, inter alia, the plaster version of the offending horse, sitting on its own little bit of private railway.
Tea room very dinky but also very crowded so we decamped for refreshment to the refectory at Guildford Cathedral.
Back home to check up what Canady had to say about the chap to find a handy one page potted biog., not terribly flattering but fair enough given what we saw at Compton. But at least we read the Canady after the event, having seen the stuff with a clean slate first. Remember the Barnes Foundation at Philadelphia which is said (by the TLS) to refuse to label its pictures - many of them very serious stuff, all paid for by sales of a potion for VD by the name of Agyrol - for this very reason.
Back home also to a very fine pizza of BH's own confection and involving cheese from more than one country. Helped along by Dr. Loosen, purveyor of a wine containing less alcohol than any wine that I remember. Good stuff though.
Rounded off the day by an unusually gripping film called 'Housekeeping', most unlike the usual sort of offering on the Film 4 early evening slot. Sufficiently moved to buy the book of the film.
First stop was the memorial chapel, kindly donated to the village by his grieving widow and more a memorial to some of the rather odd fancies of the arts and crafts people than anything else. Quite a promising confection from the outside, in red brick and terracotta, set amid some handsome trees, including some large beeches. Inside however, one's first thought was that the place would make an excellent film setting for something from Tolkien. All hobbits and runes - and which reminded BH of the mosaic above the stage at the Wigmore Hall. A lot of people had worked hard on the thing but the overall effect was not very holy, with the lack of holiness being highlighted by the large voices of the groups of ladies who lunched in the surrounding area. (The place might have been a village once but I expect that the nearest thing to a villager today would be the Polish housekeeper or the Filipino maid).
Second stop was the gallery, home to a large number of works of the master. Sadly the galleries were not really big enough to show the larger ones off to best advantage, something that many of them needed. One was also conscious that the chap was very into bared & stretched necks with heads turning away. Was he interested in sacrifice? Overall, the quality was rather mixed to say the least, although I did like some of his portraits. Bit of a mystery how the chap made so much money that his widow (he took a second, much younger wife, quite late in life) could set up and endow the shrine. Although not so much that they disdained money from the likes of the National Lottery. They are also in transition from a small place to a big place marked up on the tourist trail, taking buses. The systems are creaking a bit, and for my money it is a pity they were unable to continue small and cosy.
We also got to see the sculpture studio which contained, inter alia, the plaster version of the offending horse, sitting on its own little bit of private railway.
Tea room very dinky but also very crowded so we decamped for refreshment to the refectory at Guildford Cathedral.
Back home to check up what Canady had to say about the chap to find a handy one page potted biog., not terribly flattering but fair enough given what we saw at Compton. But at least we read the Canady after the event, having seen the stuff with a clean slate first. Remember the Barnes Foundation at Philadelphia which is said (by the TLS) to refuse to label its pictures - many of them very serious stuff, all paid for by sales of a potion for VD by the name of Agyrol - for this very reason.
Back home also to a very fine pizza of BH's own confection and involving cheese from more than one country. Helped along by Dr. Loosen, purveyor of a wine containing less alcohol than any wine that I remember. Good stuff though.
Rounded off the day by an unusually gripping film called 'Housekeeping', most unlike the usual sort of offering on the Film 4 early evening slot. Sufficiently moved to buy the book of the film.
# posted by Jim @ 3:16 AM 
