Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art. Show all posts

Sunday, 30 March 2014

Budleigh and Bushey: an unexpected centenary link








Sir Hubert von Herkomer: a self-portrait from around 1880

I’ve never been to Bushey, in Hertfordshire. Unlike the peaceful coastal town of Budleigh Salterton it seems to be very much a domitory place for commuters to London, with a population some five times bigger than ours.

But in the late 19th century it was “a sleepy, picturesque place” as one of its most famous former residents recalled. “It had no water laid on, and there was no sanitation except of the most primitive kind. The drinking-water was brought to the houses in buckets, for which the old people, who carried it round, charged a halfpenny a bucket. The one and only well from which they could obtain this drinking-water was situated quite near the churchyard, a rather doubtful proximity, according to our modern ideas. There was of course the usual well attached to each house for collecting rain-water, which I remember was considerably stocked with live matter.”

The famous former resident was the Victorian painter Sir Hubert von Herkomer, who chose to move to Bushey with his family in 1873. The only connection between him and Budleigh Salterton is that he died here in our town, 100 years ago today. Like another famous Victorian, the author Sir Henry Rider Haggard, he came to Budleigh for its peaceful atmosphere and healthy climate. Too late. His relatively short life came to an end when he was only 65.   He died in a house on the town's Marine Parade, known at the time as Matford. 

But what a full life!  Not just a painter but a pioneering film-maker, composer, author and enthusiast for modern technology. He sponsored an automobile race in Bavaria, the Herkmerkonkurrenz from 1905 to 1907, and experimented with new forms of stage lighting.  A prominent member of the Royal Academy of Arts, the Royal Watercolour Society and the Royal Society of Painter-Etchers, he was admired by Vincent Van Gogh, ranked with artists like Sir John  Millais and  was a friend of the art critic John Ruskin.

It was Ruskin who recommended him as Slade Professor of Art at Oxford University, a post that he held from 1885 to 1894. The Herkomer Art School, which he founded in Bushey in 1883 taught students from countries as far flung as Sweden, South Africa, America, and Australia. He was honoured by King Ludwig of Bavaria and Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany, and knighted by King Edward VII in 1907. 

I enjoyed discovering the two volumes of his highly readable memoirs: you can find them online at https://archive.org/details/herkomers01herkuoft

Portrait of Lord Tennyson Chalk drawing 1879
 
In these volumes you can see portraits by Herkomer of famous people of the time such as the poet Lord Tennyson.  These commissions brought him considerable wealth. 


A Spinning Party in the Bavarian Alps 
Drawn facsimile on the block for the Illustrated London News 1878 

You’ll also find examples of his sympathetic depiction of the sufferings of the poor,  inspired by the harsh conditions that he experienced during his own childhood. 


"There stood her mother, amid the group of children, hanging over the washing tub." by Hubert von Herkomer, RA. This plate, the first in the illustrated serialisation of Thomas Hardy's Tess of the Durbervilles, appeared in the 4 July 1891 issue of the London Graphic. Scanned image and text by  Philip V. Allingham.  

His illustrations of the impoverished workers of the countryside were used in the Wessex novels of Thomas Hardy, as seen above. 

Herkomer reveals in his memoirs a deep affection for Britain and its artists, although he notes with disapproval “how deep-seated are the puritanical tendencies of the English race.” However his passionate love of the countryside is unequivocal. Here, for example he goes into rhapsodies about the time that he spent in Somerset.                 

“What a country for the artist!” he exclaims. “If ever decay and neglect  enhanced nature for the  painter's art, there it is in all its artistry. The rich red soil, the undulating country, the apple-trees tumbling about in their eccentric untouched shapes (untouched by man, except to gather the fruit for cider   making), the dilapidated farmsteads; all a treasure ground for painter and   poet. In spring, the first budding of leafage, like jewels set in the deep purple  tonality given by the massing of tree branches not yet in leaf; the offset of the strong green masses of ivy growths that have taken overwhelming  possession of the stems to which they are attached, give a witchery to this corner of England unsurpassed, I should say, in any part of the world.”

 Maybe he should have settled in East Devon.
 
He would have made a valuable Patron of the Council for the Protection of Rural England, detesting as he did the rash of new buildings spreading across the countryside. “The myriads of small dwellings that are springing up on every available bit of land throughout this country, built by small and large builders, by retired tradesmen, even by frugal workmen (they do exist) who have saved a little money, poison this fair England of ours like a black plague. The origin of this satanic scourge was made clear to me when a builder showed a friend of mine a new street that he had perpetrated, and exclaimed: ‘There! that is what I call a beautiful sight, all the houses alike, and all let!’”

Equal in the intensity of Herkomer’s love of the English countryside was his attachment to Bavaria, where he was born. Later in life he discovered the beauty of his native landscape, which became a source of inspiration for much of his work. His parents had emigrated to the USA in 1851 when Hubert was only three years old, settling briefly in Cleveland, Ohio, before moving to Southampton, in England.  Art studies in London followed and in 1869 he exhibited for the first time at the Royal Academy.




His 1875 oil painting, ‘The Last Muster’  established his position as an artist of high distinction at the Academy.  It was painted after Herkomer had attended a service at the chapel of the Royal Hospital, Chelsea, the home for veteran soldiers known as the ‘Chelsea Pensioners’.  “The idea was to make every man tell some different story, to be told by his face, or by the selection of attitude,” Herkomer wrote. The central figure has slumped forward, his stick slipping from his grasp. The old soldier beside him reaches for his pulse to discover that his neighbour has indeed answered the call for ‘the last muster.’





Part of the front elevation of Lululaund, Bushey 

Herkomer’s love of Bavarian art and craft was demonstrated in Lululaund, the substantial house built between 1886 and1894 in the centre of Bushey and named after his second wife who had died shortly after their marriage.  Herkomer engaged the eminent American architect H. H. Richardson for the project, and  the house, described as ‘an Arts and Crafts fairlytale home’, may be considered his only European work.



The drawing-room at Lululaund  

Much of the construction of Lululaund and the detailed design, was the work of Herkomer himself. The stone was finished in his workshops, and the interiors fitted out with materials worked by his family. 

For Herkomer, the question of his rights as a British subject or as a German citizen was of less relevance than his life as an artist. “What mattered to me these technicalities of nationality?” he wrote in 1910. “I am”, he explained, “a British subject wherever the British flag flies, and a German subject wherever the German colours are hoisted. My case is curious, but by no means without precedent” 

But xenophobia was on the rise in the 19th century. Herkomer’s father had evidently experienced it after settling in England, where he found that there was “but little less prejudice against foreigners than in America.”

Hubert himself suffered from it during his time in Southampton. “Even I, as a boy, was under this bane of prejudice,” he recalled in his memoirs. “I well remember a horse-dealer and jobmaster - whose stables were at the end of the street - who never failed when he met me to call me such names as ‘Dutchman’, ‘Foreigner’, ‘Roman Catholic’, ‘Brigand’, ‘Vagabond’, ‘Half-caste,’ etc.”

The early 20th century saw a worsening of such prejudices.  Ironically, in view of the success of Herkomer’s ‘Last Muster’ as a work appealing to the public taste for patriotic sentiment, his star declined because of this.  It’s been said that despite being a prominent member of London art societies, as well as being on familiar terms with the royal family, he was never totally accepted by the British establishment, and was ultimately a victim of the deteriorating relationship between Great Britain and Germany.



Many blame the deterioration on the influence of the press. One journalist in particular led the way in portraying Germany as a threat to Britain. As early as 1894 Alfred Harmsworth, proprietor of the Daily Mail, had commissioned author William Le Queux to write The Great War in England, which featured Germany, France and Russia combining forces to crush Britain.   "This is the book that frightened the life out of many British people, proclaiming a German threat a decade ahead of the First World War," writes historian Max Hastings.

Twelve years later, with Harmsworth’s support,  the exercise was repeated,  resulting in the publication of the best selling The Invasion of 1910. The book originally appeared in serial form in the Daily Mail in 1906. Well before its appearance in the newspaper the public had been fed a diet of thrillers in the same vein. 

Some, like George Tomkyns Chesney’s The Battle of Dorking (1871) or H.G. Wells’ The War in the Air (1907) depicted a country invaded by a well organised enemy; others, like Erskine Childers’ The Riddle of the Sands (1903) portrayed evil German spies involved in sinister plans to destroy Britain. 

“Next to the Kaiser, Lord Northcliffe has done more than any living man to bring about the war,” wrote A.G. Gardiner, editor of The Star newspaper.

By contrast, there were many like Herkomer, who loved Britain and Germany with an equal passion or had Anglo-German families.

I can’t help thinking that their anguish, as they saw the two countries drifting towards the 1914-18 world conflict, must have almost matched that of those whose loved ones died in it. 

The creator of ‘The Last Muster’ seems in any case to have had had an almost prophetic view of how the appalling Great War would develop, judging by the description in his memoirs of the Crimean campaign: “a bitter and almost useless struggle, in a climate that vied with shot and shell to decimate the ‘imperfectly organized and badly equipped’ allied armies at Alma, Inkerman, and Balaklava.”


All that remains of Lululaund    Photo credit: Bazj (2009)

Perhaps it was better that this fine artist, of whom I knew nothing before writing this piece, did not live to witness the outbreak of hostilities. Had he in fact lived until the Second World War he would have been heartbroken to see what happened to his dream house of Lululaund.  The house, which stood on Bushey's Melbourne Road, fell into disrepair in the 1920s, was transferred to the ownership of Bushey Urban District Council and finally was demolished in 1939. It’s widely reported that anti-German feeling may have played a part in an ignorant Council’s action.  All that survives is the Grade II* listed base of the entrance porch and a section of flanking wall, part of the entrance to the former British Legion Hall in Bushey. The Hall is being redeveloped as housing. There’s a certain irony there, I feel.

However I’m pleased to see that Bushey has been twinned with the German town of Landsberg am Lech in Bavaria, where there is a Herkomer Museum.  The Hertfordshire town now has a Herkomer Road, and Bushey Museum itself has a Herkomer Room.  It’s a volunteer-run museum, and admission is free. Just like Fairlynch.

A talk about Herkomer was given by Museum volunteer Hugh Lewis on 18 March, serving as a prelude to a series of exhibitions during 2014-15. 
 
 Ten years ago, the Museum acquired a 1902 photograph album belonging to Herkomer. Because of its size and condition it has not until now been put on display. As part of the Museum's commemoration of Herkomer's centenary, the album, together with enlargements of the photos, is on display in the Jubilee Room.

The album records a visit by Herkomer, his wife Margaret and their son Lawrence to Waal in Bavaria where the artist was born. The occasion was the erection of a memorial to the fallen in the 1870/71 Franco-Prussian war, which he had designed. Herkomer was welcomed as a civic celebrity, with town band, speeches, songs and bouquets. The family then went on to nearby Landsberg, where, in honour of his mother, Herkomer had built a tower which they used as a summer home. He included some watercolours of the town in his album.

The Herkomer 1902 Photo Album Exhibition runs until 29 June 2014. Then from April 26 to September 7, an exhibition in the Art Gallery will be of drawings by Herkomer and students of the Herkomer Art School.  This will be followed, in the Council Chamber from June 29 to January 11, 2015, by the Museum’s main Herkomer Centenary Exhibition, consisting of Herkomer paintings, memorabilia and so on.  Finally, from September 13 to January 11, 2015, the Art Gallery and the Herkomer Room together will display items from Lululaund.

For more information about Bushey Museum click on http://www.busheymuseum.org

‘The Great War at Fairlynch’ 2015 exhibition at Budleigh Salterton’s very special museum! Reviews included: “Wonderful display on WW1, informative, bright and relevant. Well done!! 



Friday, 14 March 2014

Faces of War





Pic: Torso in Metal from “The Rock Drill”, bronze sculpture by Jacob Epstein, 1913-14, 
Tate Britain Photo credit Wmpearl

 To London, to see the National Portrait Gallery’s WW1 centenary exhibition ‘The Great War in Portraits.’ It must surely be a good idea to see how the big beasts of the museum world are treating this immense subject that Budleigh Salterton's little Fairlynch Museum is being bold enough to tackle.

Good war or bad war? The battle rages on. A justifiable defence of civilisation and democracy threatened by a tyrannical and psychologically disturbed Kaiser Wilhelm II? Or the senseless waste of a generation which could have been avoided? To read the historians’ and the politicians’ arguments makes my head spin.

 Exhibition curator Paul Moorhouse was unequivocal.  “The events of 1914-18 are defined by incredible loss and unimaginable destruction,” visitors are told at the start of this unsettling portrayal of man’s inhumanity to man.

The message is reinforced by Sir Jacob Epstein’s sculpture Rock Drill which greets you at the entrance.  Created between 1913 and 1915 the piece was apparently conceived as a celebration of modern machinery.

But years later, as a second World War gripped Europe, the sculptor would later see it in very different terms. “A machine-like robot, visored, menacing, and carrying within itself its progeny, protectively ensconced,” is how he described it in complete contrast in 1940. “Here is the armed sinister figure of to-day and to-morrow. No humanity, only the terrible Frankenstein's monster we have made ourselves into.”

 




















 Kaiser Wilhelm II by August Böcher
 Imperial War Museum Collection

Yet a further contrast emerges as you meet the people who dominated the European stage in 1914. On the one hand, figures from the European ruling class: symbolically posed by the artist to represent authority and stability. August Böcher’s portrait of the Kaiser, “inordinately concerned with his public image” as Paul Moorhouse describes him, is on display along with other great and good figures of the time: King George V, Emperor Franz Josef I of Austria, Tsar Nicholas II of Russia, and Archduke Franz Ferdinand whose assassination on 28 June 1914 led to the mobilisation of over 70 million military personnel. 

 




















Gavrilo Princip in his prison cell at the Terezín fortress, near Prague  
Photographer unknown

The contrast is with the image of the assassin himself: a dejected-looking Gavril Princip, photographed shortly after his arrest. “Representing different worlds in collision, they set the scene on the eve of war - ultimate power threatened by abject insignificance,” reads the exhibition label.  The effect is to stress the absurdity and unlikeliness of the motives which contributed to the outbreak of this Great War.

 





















One wall of the exhibition is taken up with the portraits of ordinary people, many of whose names we know.  Some are reproduced on the cover of the accompanying book published by the NPG. Ordinary by way of contrast with the images of the great and good. But in reality, extraordinary in their way: people like Edith Cavell, shot by the Germans on 12 October 1915 for helping Allied soldiers to escape from German-occupied Belgium. 

 















 Francisco Goya 
 Los desastres de la guerra, plate No. 3, 
(1st edition, Madrid: Real Academia de Bellas Artes de San Fernando, 1863)
Museo del Prado

The horror of the 1914-18 conflict itself is well conveyed by the NPG exhibition.   World War I was not the first time that this had been portrayed. Just look at this monstrous moment captured by the Spanish artist Goya. But with the industrial-scale use of barbed wire, gas and high explosives the depiction of suffering takes on an even more frightening dimension. 


 













  



Imperial War Museum Collection  © IWM (Art.IWM ART 3688)

The stark reality of the conflict is conveyed by works such as Gilbert Rogers’ 'The Dead Stretcher-Bearer.'  “The body of a dead British stretcher-bearer lies on a stretcher, partially covered with a sheet, within a muddy shell cratered landscape,” reads the IWM description. “The man's helmet lies in the mud behind him and a medical kit sits in the mud near his outstretched hand, which hangs limp from the side of the stretcher.”

 
  















Imperial War Museum Collection   © IWM (Art.IWM ART 4744) 

Eric Kennington’s ‘Gassed and Wounded’ is another powerful image on display, as are the terribly disfigured faces of war wounded drawn by the surgeon and painter Henry Tonks.  Click on http://gilliesarchives.org.uk/Tonks%20pastels/index.html  to see them.

This is when I began to recall uneasily the wartime work of Budleigh Salterton’s Joyce Dennys (1893-1991).  I love her many paintings on display at Fairlynch Museum. If you haven’t seen them, do go and enjoy her witty commentaries on Salterton’s social scene in the 1970s.

 




















Half a century earlier Budleigh’s favourite artist was working in a rather different style. Her VAD recruitment poster, shown above, is well known; I must have seen it in various places long before I’d ever heard her name and that of Budleigh Salterton.   

 




























 Above: Our Hospital A B C. Verses by Hampden Gordon and M.G.Tindall with pictures by Joyce Dennys. Published by John Lane, The Bodley Head, London, [1916]

Unknown to me were these illustrations that she did for books like Our Hospital ABC and Our Girls in Wartime.

By contrast with the NPG’s powerful depiction of suffering humanity these images of the wounded - taken from books on display in the Fairlynch Great War exhibition - give the impression that the Western Front was no more troublesome than the average rugby match on a public school’s playing field. Jolly japes played out by aimiable young scallywags of the type you see depicted by the illustrator Thomas Henry in Richmal Crompton’s ‘Just William’ Books.

Pure propaganda of course.

But it seems that such efforts to gloss over the reality of conflict were being challenged, judging by the NPG’s commentary. “By 1916, there was a  growing tension between those officials who were determined to sustain the war effort by presenting it in a positive light, and others, such as artists and medical staff, who were unwilling or unable to ignore its dreadful consequences.”

So much of the war was fought on the basis of keeping up appearances. The fatuously posed Kaiser Wilhelm, hiding his famously withered arm as he tries to look every inch the warrior is a perfect example. Art, no less than political alliances and military strategies, had played its part in creating and sustaining the conditions for a European conflict, writes Paul Moorhouse.   Irrespective of nationality, such “power portraits” with their assertions of military prowess “personify those deeper forces which, by June 1914, had in complex ways created the conditions for war”, he suggests.

Bertrand Russell in 1916, from the book Justice in War Time, published in 1917   
Photographer unknown

I came away from the NPG’s exhibition not much wiser as to the complicated reasons for World War I, but feeling that the truest verdict on the subject lies in the bitter lamentation of the pacifist Bertrand Russell.  It was composed only days after Britain’s entry into the conflict. 

Europe, he wrote on 12 August 1914, in a letter to the Editor of The Nation, had suddenly descended from being “a peaceful comity of nations” into a state of primitive barbarism. “And all this madness, all this rage, all this flaming death of our civilization and our hopes, has been brought about because a set of official gentlemen, living luxurious lives, mostly stupid, and all without imagination or heart, have chosen that it should occur rather than that any one of them should suffer some infinitesimal rebuff to his country’s pride."

Perhaps his photo should have been included among the exhibition’s portraits.

The National Portrait Gallery’s tribute to the victims of the Great War is a moving and troubling exhibition. It closes on 15 June 2014. Admission is free.  http://www.npg.org.uk/



‘The Great War at Fairlynch’ 2015 exhibition at Budleigh Salterton’s very special museum! Reviews included: “Wonderful display on WW1, informative, bright and relevant. Well done!!