Surprise! Rousseau's Tiger

The dense, sodden vegetation in the colourful foreground of this painting is stark and bright against the heavy, overbearing, thunderous sky. The more you look, the more you can feel the humidity of the rainforest, the painting not only looks like a jungle it entices you to feel the jungle around you. The question is that if the surprise, is the tiger surprised by the lightning, are we surprised by the tiger or are the hunters, hidden from view but suggested by the artist, surprised at becoming prey?

This oil was painted in 1891 by Henri Rousseau and was his first jungle painting, a genre which has become synonymous with his name. 

Rousseau was born in the market town of Laval in North West France in 1844. Much that is known about his life is shrouded in doubt, as he often lied about his experiences and jobs to impress his friends. What we can be certain of is that he enjoyed a normal family life and was educated in school until the age of 17. After this comes the lies- notably being forced to join the army when he was caught stealing money and cash from his job as a law clerk.

Following the success of his jungle scenes in later life, Rousseau would describe how his experience in Mexico as a regimental bandsman inspired the exotic flora and fauna, but Rousseau never left France.

He moved to a newly modernised Paris in 1868 and quickly married Clèmence Boitard. He had a child with her, who died in infancy and the marriage did not last.

He began working as a toll station inspector in 1871 and continued in the profession until he retired. Another case of Rousseau bending the truth to his advantage can be seen here. "le Douanier" means customs inspector and, dispute Rousseau readily adopting this nickname, it was a rank he never reached.

In 1880 Rousseau's first signed painting appear, depicting Parisian life and portraits of friends. He taught himself to paint and his own unique style is obvious. He allowed himself to be considered a naive painter, but he was certainly aware of academic technique and old master paintings, having taken out a copyist permit for the Louvre in 1884.

Surprise is Rousseau's first jungle painting. The vegetation is based on accurate knowledge and representation of flora Rousseau would have seen on trips to the Botanical Gardens in Paris. At the front he paints agave leaves and pointed euphorbia, a rubber plant, American fan palms and a French pinnate surround the tiger, whilst a java fig and India Bo Tree overhang the scene. The fact that all of these plants live naturally across three continents suggest again that the scene is based on the France that Rousseau saw, rather than the Mexico he lied about living in.

What is incredible though, is his accurate representation of the plants and instinctive use of colour, yet the dream-like quality he archives in his execution of the scene. He even said that "when I step into these hot houses and see strange plants from exotic lands I feel as if I have stepped into a dream".

Rousseau was consider naive by contemporary audiences and laughed at at the salon des independents where he exhibited but the avant-garde held him in high esteem. If you look closely at the original, the translucent, opalescent glaze he has applied in diagonal grey and white oil streaks across the canvas show his complex understanding of painting and his incredible skill. Again, 'naive' is probably a label the incredibly self assured artistes promoted himself.

Indeed, he used his paintings as evidence to win his acquittal when tried for fraud in 1907. So pleased was his friend Picasso, he held a soirée in honour of the occasion and claimed Rousseau was the greatest modern artist if his time.

Testimony to this are Weber's New York exhibition of his work just one year after his death.

Whilst Rousseau was a fraud and a chancer in so many ways, in so many others he was an artistic heinous who used prejudices and stereotypes to his great advantage. He would be incredibly smug to see his once-ridiculed painting hanging in such high esteem in the National Gallery today.

Writing KS2 lessons using Evelyn De Morgan's paintings

"The story of the Trojan War is one that has captivated generations. From its origins as Greek myth that taught of the destruction caused by the Gods’ meddling in the lives of mankind, to today’s ongoing questioning of the possibility Troy was real. The telling and retelling of The Trojan War, both as story and scientific investigation is a brilliant one to support the new History National Curriculum, which demands that children as young as KS1 can grasp the idea of the passing of time and the influence of one historical era on the next.

The myth itself is a thrilling tale of deceit, love, revenge and war. Eris, the Goddess of Strife and discord threw a golden apple addressed to the ‘fairest’ into a party of the Gods. Zeus sent Athena, Goddess of War, Hera the Queen of the Gods and Aphrodite, Goddess of Beauty and Love, to Paris, the son of Priam, the King of Troy, for him to judge. The Goddesses each offered him glory, but it was the promise of the most beautiful woman in the world that persuaded Paris to choose Aphrodite as the fairest and he handed her the golden apple.

True to her word, Aphrodite made Helen, the most beautiful of all the women, fall in love with Paris. Unfortunately, she was the wife of Menelaus, whose brother Agamemnon was the king of the Greek city of Mycenae. When Paris and Helen ran away to Troy together, Agamemnon led his troops to Troy and besieged the city for ten years as punishment for what Paris had done.

After a long, fruitless war the Greeks finally overthrew the Trojans with the Trojan Horse. This large wooden horse was built by the Greeks who hid their best army inside it and then pretended to sail away from Troy. Thinking they had won the long war, the Trojans celebrated by bringing the horse into their city. As they wheeled it through the city gates, the Greeks burst from it and destroyed the city, thus ending the war and the city.

This terrible and brutal end to a long-fought war can be seen in the background of this 1898 oil painting by Evelyn De Morgan. The true horror of the fight that De Morgan has chosen to depict, however, is the peril of Cassandra. A daughter of Priam, the King of Troy, Cassandra was served the great misfortune of enormous beauty and being loved by Apollo. She would not give in to his advances, even when he promised her the gift of prophecy. She took the gift, but would not succumb to Apollo, and so he twisted the gift so that her accurate prophecies would always be ignored.

Cassandra warned of the fall of Troy. She told the Trojans of their downfall and warned them not to lead the great horse in to the city. Her utter frustration and suffering is evident in De Morgan’s painting of her, as Troy burns, behind her just as she had foretold.

Pupils studying History at KS1 must learn the basics of what they will go on to study later in their academic careers. Learning the epic story of Troy is a fabulous way to engage the children with Greek Mythology, and using an object so easily readable, yet visually stimulating is an excellent way to introduce the myth. In addition, pupils can be taught that this painting was made in 1898, at the end of the Victorian period, much later than the myths. They can begin to see similarities and differences across time.

By KS2, pupils must study Ancient Greece and also an aspect or theme in British history that extends pupils’ chronological knowledge beyond 1066. Teaching pupils the legacy of Greek culture, art, architecture and literature on later periods in British history is easily achieved through this painting. As De Morgan was embarking on her painting career around 1870, archaeological exploration and discovery by the archaeologists Frank Calvert and Heinrich Schliemann, in Hissarlik in modern-day Turkey, led to a widespread interest in the possibility of Troy being real. This renewed excitement led to a great interest in the late-19^th century of Greek arts and architecture, which may be a reason for De Morgan’s subject choice.

Another reason for De Morgan choosing this subject could have been the torment of Cassandra. Cassandra is made to pay for being beautiful with the curse of nobody listening to her. It is eerily reflective of the struggles faced by women at the end of the 19^th and early 20^th centuries, as they campaigned against objectification by men and for their own voice to be heard through the international campaign for Women’s Suffrage. Evelyn De Morgan was lucky, in her lifetime, to be educated and be free to follow an artistic career. She knew this and was an active campaigner for Women’s Suffrage. She has placed Cassandra, troubled and tormented, at the centre of the composition of her painting. She is telling of the fall of a nation because of the ignorance of women; it is really quite profound.

KS3 pupils must learn about the challenges for Britain, Europe and the wider world, 1901 to the present day.Women’s suffrage is a hugely important aspect of this, which is easily taught through De Morgan’s practice.

Ultimately, the passing of time and the placing of British history within world history can be overwhelming ideas to grasp. Using a vivid aesthetic starting point to tell a story that has lasted Millennia, is a particularly strong one. The fact this piece is both a primary source in itself, showing off the late-Victorian interest in Greek mythology in painting, and a secondary source, which depicts the ancient story of Cassandra, can help pupils to understand the depth of world history and the links between British and world history."

Martin Creed; What's The Point Of It?

What, indeed, is the point of a row of cacti, a ball of bluetac, a tower of loo rolls, a car on a roof or a room full of balloons? 

To entertain, to amuse, to provoke wonder, awe and disgust.

It's all here in Martin Creed's retrospective at the Hayward Gallery on the South Bank.

An artist who found fame by winning the Turner Prize for a room where the lights go on and off, is one I would usually write off and not bother with. But there was something just so intriguing about the idea of running around a room filled with balloons that I just had to visit. I didn't regret it. Each piece acts in harmony in this exhibit come installation. Every aspect is precision planned to ensure all your senses are engaged. There is a volunteer bashing the keys of a battered piano, toilet noises being played from an obvious speaker and even a cinema room playing clips of people making themselves vomit. Repulsive yet compelling.

The show, and indeed Creed's general line of enquiry, since his graduation from his Slade School days and throughout his career, probes us to answer questions of art.

Whilst this is a well-established trait of the avant-garde, I mean, Duchamp got there first with his urinal, it is the playfulness of Creed that makes his work so engaging. Ultimately, his coloured felt-tip drawings are simply quite beautiful, they have an unexpected yet genuine aesthetic quality.

"I don't know what art is"

"I wouldn't call myself an artist"

I don't think I would call him an artist either, and the show won't answer the eternal question of what art is. Creed is more a philosopher who asks his own questions in his own spectacular way.

A must see.

Sensing Spaces at the RA

There's nothing that releases your inner child quite like being told 'yes, of course you can climb on the art work!' By an RA gallery assistant.

Sadly, the giddy excitement this initially filled me with, only lasted up a spiral staircase until the top of a pine cube, before the concept was old and the novelty expired.

In this huge architectural installation, we are asked to question materials and how they create the spaces around us and how we interact with them. A great idea, but the pieces themselves were just a little boring: some twigs with a light up floor and some long drinking straws I plaited and stuck in some corrugated plastic. It wasn't exciting and I forgot I was supposed to be intrigued. Diebedo Francis Kere, who came up with this claims to want to use architecture to 'respond to the users needs'. Well sadly, I was bored and you didn't entertain me!

Curator, Kate Goodwin, says this show should "encourage visitors to question their ideas about architecture and test its capacity to move them". Until I stepped into he Grafton Architects concrete structure room, I would say this exhibition had failed; but this installation is simply awe inspiring. It's not a half-cut attempt to show off your practices mission statement, nor overly playful. There is just a beautiful simplicity to walking under tonnes of vast, geometric concrete-esque plaster blocks. They are overpowering, quite literally as they hang over you, but subtle; you still see what's ahead, they are not obscuring your view. The play with light is superb and typical of Grafton's practice. They look at how structures sit in their surroundings and they alter a landscape, a practice which shines through, quite literally, in this installation. Go and see this exhibition just for the wonder of this piece.

Royal Academy, London, until 6 April 2014

http://www.royalacademy.org.uk/exhibitions/sensingspaces/

Ten Minute Talk: Saint Margaret of Antioch, by Zurbaran

Today I will be giving a Ten Minute talk at the National Gallery in Room 30 on this wonderful Zurbaran Painting.

At the height of his career, Franciso de Zurbaran was a freeman of Seville, living there with his second wife, three children from his first marriage and eight servants. He had been invited by the town elders as they thought his distinction as a painter with dramatic Baroque flair and such daring chiaroscuro effect could boost the reputation of the town. Not only was that true, but it also boosted Zurbaran's career and he was appointed as court painter to Philip IV Spain.

Saint Margaret of Antioch was painted by Zurbaran in the 1630s, just before his career really took off. This makes it a rare and exciting painting. Zurbaran's most famous saint paintings are painted in series, such as the magnificent series of the 12 Sons of Jacob in the collection at Aukland Castle, and are painted by studio assistants, rather than solely by the artist himself.

Saint Margaret of Antioch was a peasant girl who lived in the third century in Antioch, a small town in Byzantium, modern-day Turkey. Her mother had died in her early childhood and she was raised by her shepherdess nurse, hence Zurbaran's inclusion of a crook in the painting. To aid identification further, Zurbaran dresses the girl in his painting as a Spanish peasant girl, her bag (an alfornja) and hat drawn from life; she doesn't appear ethereal, as Zurbaran's saints often do, she is a real girl. Saint Margaret's  declared her faith with a vow of chastity, which ultimately cost her her life. When proposed to, by a Governer of the Roman Empire, Margaret refused and was taken away for torture. One of her martyrdoms was to be fed to the devil disguised as a dragon. Her purity saved her and she burst from it's belly. This is symbolised by the beast crouching behind her in Zurbaran's painting. It is most unusual of Zurbaran's Baroque style to have depicted the saint as an ordinary, contemporary girl, with a tame dragon. The high drama and excitement of painting at this time would usually dictate a story of this magnitude be illustrated at crux of the tale, namely where Saint Margaret bursts from the dragon. This suggests it was painted at the patrons request. As she is the patron saint of childbirth (due to bursting from dragon) it could perhaps be intended as a tasteful wedding gift.

Despite his great fame and fortune, Zurbaran's style became rather unfashionable even during his lifetime, with the pastel tones and subtle lighting of Murrillo taking centre stage, and Zurbaran died in obscurity.

http://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/paintings/francisco-de-zurbaran-saint-margaret-of-antioch

Men in Pants at the De Morgan Centre

There's nothing quite like saying it how it is. Men in Pants is what they say you're going to get and it's exactly what you get in this fabulous exhibition at the De Morgan Centre. The focus is on a hitherto unexplored area of Evelyn De Morgan's work, her preparatory life drawings. She began her career at the Slade School of Art, one of three of the first women to be enrolled. There, she actively engaged in life drawing and drawing from sculpture. She meticulously studied the human form; both the nude and the dressed, which she would scrutinise to perfect her depiction of fabric falling over the body.

Seeing these drawings in the context of the largest collection of Evelyn's paintings allows for a fresh look at the collection. Her rigorous technique and planning of her paintings is better understood, when one can appreciate her conviction and execution of the piece. The works on paper are simply beautiful in their own right and really show off her higher understanding of how to manipulate light and line to stunning effects.

The De Morgan Centre, Wandsworth, until 26th April http://demorgan.org.uk/meninpants

Seeing Double! Sunflowers Display at the National Gallery

Today was a particularly exciting one at the National Gallery. It started with that same moment of tension you always feel when unpacking a painting that has arrived from another gallery: will it be ok? Will it be there at all?!

In this case, thankfully it was and we got the Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam's, version of Van Gogh's Sunflowers on to the wall next ot ours for the first time in 60 years. The reunion is a result of a long working friendship with the Van Gogh Museum and a collaborative conservation and research programme. This has uncovered some exciting facts about the well-loved pair, such as the light blue in the Van Gogh Museum version would have been a dark purple when Van Gogh painted it, to decorate Gaugin's bedroom for his summer 1888 visit to Arles, just before Van Gogh's famous breakdown, that incident with the ear and his spell in an Asylum.

Given the popularity (5000 visitors in the first weekend!) it seems a shame we can't have all 5 surviving paintings from this series, but even just getting these two together has been enough work for one week!

Ten Minute Talk: Christ Blessing the Children, Nicholaes Maes

If you couldn't make my Ten Minute Talk at the National Gallery today, then you can read about the fab Maes painting here instead.

Nicholaes Maes is errornously best know as a successful pupil of the great Dutch master, Rembrandt. Indeed, research and publications pertaining to his work are often investigations meriting Rembrandt with being a great teacher.

Maes was born in Dordrect, the Netherlands, during the 80 Years War for Dutch independence from Spanish rule. It was a turbulent time, but one of increasing Dutch power; by the 1650s this was one of the richest, most powerful and influential nations. The Netherlands international trade, colonisation of land seafaring power made it the first successfully globalised nation. 

Independence from Spain, granted by King Philip II was granted in 1648. In addition to the power the country gained from this, the lives of ordinary people changed dramatically. Calvinism took over, making Catholic practice redundant. This religion's ideology is rooted in the truth of the word, taking the bible quite literally and living by the work of the scriptures. This was largely driven by Johannes Gutenberg's 1450 invention of the printing press, which increased book production by an unprecedented amount. Where as once a congregation relied on images of Christ and the Priest to tell the of the Bible under Catholicism, the Calvinist regime allowed them to read the bible for themselves. These new Protestant churches were sparsely decorated; huge halls of quite contemplation. For artists, this meant a shift in patronage, from the church to the middle class trader.

It can be supposed, given the size of the canvas, which appears to be two sheets glued together, that Maes' Christ Blessing the Children was indeed created for a wealthy merchant. Certainly, he never created anything as large after this piece. What is certain is that the subject matter, a highly provocative religious sentiment, was not typical of Maes. This could either point to a less than ideal patron early in Maes' career, or his dedication to the style of Rembrandt.

What we see here is a very clever and subtly persuasive depiction of Christ Blessing the Children, Matthew 19, 13:15. "Then people brought little children to Jesus for him to place his hands on them and pray for them. But the disciples rebuked them. Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” 

This text was used by Calvinists as reason for infant baptism, and allowed them to argue against the Lutharian view that only those capable of making the choice should be baptised into the Kingdom of Heaven. Their dedication to the word of the Bible as absolute truth, meant Calvinists did baptise their children, they thought it would relieve them from Original Sin, which Maes hints to with the girl in the foreground clutching the apple. 

Other characters in this painting help to tell a story. Later in his career, Maes would focus his work on portraiture and satirical depictions of everyday life. His interest in people and relationships, as opposed to a devout religious painting, is obvious here in the look of the crowd. Whilst Christ is portrayed as an ethereal, idealised being, the crowd are rugged and ordinary. Maes has clearly drawn from life to capture the essence of the working class crowd he depicts. Clever techniques he has employed are painting a strong middle ground of people, then filling in gaps behind them with a mere suggestion of an eye or an arm; it looks a lot busier than it is. In the top left corner, we can see a child clutching a peculiar object.

Given Maes' interest in people's lives, this is likely a spool of wool, which shows that the crowd is made up of Dutch spinners. In this traditional set up the father would be the weaver and work the loom to create wool cloth, the women or 'spinsters' would spin woollen yard and the infants were responsible for 'carding' or combing out the wool fibres from the raw wool. In their haste to run to Christ, this family has brought their work with them. In is another hint of the urgency and importance of becoming part of the church.

This is Maes' only large scale religious painting. When the National Gallery first acquired it, they did so as a Rembrandt, due to Maes' careful copying of his master's work. It is ironic, perhaps, given he is mainly remembered as Rembrandt's pupil, that Maes became famous and popular only when he moved away from Chiarascuro, murky, reds of Rembrandt to the fashionable, bright Baroque style he chose later in his career.