Whitworth Work of the Week

We know it’s been a while since this blog has been updated. In fact, we’re no longer going to utilise Work of the Week. Instead, we have launched a new and exciting blog called a Place Between the Trees, where we will continue to keep you updated with life on the Visitor Team here at the Whitworth.

You can visit a Place Between the trees here:

A big thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed Work of the Week over the years. All of these posts will remain archived online, so that you can still enjoy them any time you want.

Many thanks,

Blanket

Barbara Brown, 1987

Machine-knitted wool

Barbara Brown was a high profile 1960s British designer. Born in Manchester in 1932, Barbara Brown was considered one of the prolific designers of 1960s Britain. Originally commissioned by Heal’s fabrics, Brown’s characteristic 3D designs and bold futuristic compositions quickly earned her the reputation of one of the golden girls during the 1960s and 70s. Brown’s bold futuristic designs reflected a confidence which swept through the country during the 1960s, where post war Britain began to get optimistic about the future again, rejecting the drab browns of the make-do-and-mend era.

Alongside another of Heal’s superstars, Lucienne Day, Brown played a part in this shift in society, where young people were turning away from the traditional one-size-fits-all textiles - and indeed values - of their parents’ generation. Brown and Day’s contemporary home fabrics and furnishings played a part in the new wave of attractive and affordable design available to the general public instead of just the elite few. Day even exhibited her work at the Britain Can Make It exhibition, intended to boost morale across the nation.

Despite being such a prolific designer, Brown’s name is not as well-known as Heal’s principal client, Lucienne Day. It is not so much that Brown was working in the shadow of Lucienne Day, as Brown came a little later than Day’s debut, but perhaps due to the associations her designs have with the 70’s: her bold geometric designs and shades of browns and oranges epitomise 1960’s and 70’s style, and, along with avocado bathroom suites, carry a certain stigma as an era of somewhat garish household décor, gladly forgotten by those who grew up in it. Lucienne Day’s work tended to heavily feature nature and natural patterns, something which is considered classic and is repeatedly returned to in fashion still today. At the time, however, Brown’s home furnishings were much-loved and considered very contemporary. They were sold at prices, which enabled customers to replace household items every few years as fashion changed. Tom Worthington, Heal’s owner, invested in designers who produced compositions exemplifying the changing moods of the decade.

For many, the 1960s is considered to be an era of revival of handicrafts and more modern ideas were combined with traditional crafts. Heals designs worked with designers to create a range of colourways to print their fabrics, something which immediately strikes you up on entering the Barbara Brown exhibition here at The Whitworth, particularly ‘Piazza’, ‘Colonnade’ and ‘Recurrence’, bold shapes in a range of colours reminiscent of pop art prints. But it is not these designs that capture my attention most, but rather, the multi-coloured linear patchwork blanket hung in the far corner: ‘Blanket’. This piece stands out from the rest, not only as the only one made of wool, but through its composition; a kaleidoscopic island of block colours which give way to more muted tones. Despite its vibrancy, the piece has an air of unobtrusiveness, displayed by the exit and somewhat cut off from the rest of the exhibition space.

After taking a particular interest in this piece, believing it to be wholly different to its counterparts in the main exhibition space, I come to discover it is actually a lot like the others in that it is highly exemplary of the era: It is a traditional craft adapted for commercial production (machine knit), and it exudes the confidence characteristic of the era. The blanket’s patchwork block colours are joined with a seamlessness that is only achievable through this method of production and near impossible through hand knitting.

The effect of mass production on home furnishings in the average UK household was immense and, for me, the machine knitted blanket is a marker of this shift from a culture of homemade furnishings of the war and post-war era to the more shop-bought consumer culture of the 1970s. In the  1980s, handicrafts of times gone by, including home sewing and knitting, were in rapid decline throughout the western world; shop bought clothes and machine-knitted items were so readily available to buy, and often much cheaper than the cost of fabric or wool and a pattern to follow -  and much less effort to make. By the 1990s, wool suppliers were becoming obsolete and wool shops suffered. Looking at Barbara Brown’s ‘Blanket’, I think it somewhat represents the beginning of the end for homemade creations and makes me think of the ‘fast-fashion’ throwaway culture of today. As appealing as the piece is to the eye, it is rather a bittersweet experience to learn of the implications of mass producing items that used to be handmade. On the one hand, this meant the average – and even poorer - households could brighten up their living spaces and keep up to date with fashion trends without breaking the bank. On other hand however, it is another reminder of how machines have replaced crafts and dying art forms, as well as a reminder of our increasing dependence on high street manufacturers and our almost inescapable relationship with them.

The textiles industry, however, is currently under scrutiny for a number of reasons (working conditions in overseas factories, the carbon footprint of mass production and overall unsustainability, to name just a few) and there’s the very beginnings of a shift in today’s culture, where people are beginning to confront the problems of the textiles industry. One indication of that fact is the revival of traditional crafts, especially amongst the younger generations. For many, returning to handmade crafts - or learning for the first time - is not just about trying to create a revolution in the textiles industry, but it’s also a way of connecting with past generations, learning the skills of our grandparents, for whom making clothing and furnishings was an accepted part of life.  My Nanna taught me to knit and when we talk about different techniques, complicates stitches and tools, I feel as if I’ve picked up an old forgotten language which provides me with a glimpse into her past and how she used to live.

Work #71

A Widow in her House, 

Near Flagstaff, Transkei, 1975

David Goldblatt, Silver gelatin print

Drawn into the Elizabeth Price's show under the heading 'Mourning', David Goldblatt's 'A Widow in her House', is on display as a very literal interpretation of the term. This print was donated alongside 115 other prints by Goldblatt himself to the Victoria & Albert Museum in 1987. At the Whitworth it's on loan from the V&A as part of the exhibition curated by Elizabeth Price, IN A DREAM YOU SAW A WAY TO SURVIVE AND YOU WERE FULL OF JOY. 'Mourning' brings together different states of grieving, and proves that there is a universal experience of grief.

As the title suggests, this print depicts a lady captured in situ reclining on the floor of her bedroom in a traditional mourning pose. The intimate setting of the bedroom and her stoic posture creates a sense of quiet beauty. She is alone and blinded by a 'doek', a cloth which was often used to indicate the marriage status of African women; which is used in this instance to cover her eyes. The alternative full title of the piece reads, 'A widow of three months. The black 'doek' over her eyes will gradually be lifted during the first year of her mourning. Flagstaff, Transkei, 1975', this shows that since she has lost her husband three months ago, the 'doek' is only slightly raised, and she is left partially sighted with no option but to cast her eyes downwards which gives her a tragic air of vulnerability.

The photo was taken in Transkei, near Flagstaff on the Eastern Cape which implies this tradition of grieving may be part of the Xhosa (South African people traditionally living in the province of Eastern Cape) custom of 'Ukuzila', which translates as abstention. Ukuzila refers to a set of actions undertaken during the mourning period immediately after the death of a loved one. The widow is expected to remain on the floor of her bedroom during the week immediately after the passing of her husband, to abstain from activity, and to restrict food. It is believed that after one year the deceased will become an ancestor or guardian and will protect the family after death. In some cases her family will also cleanse the widow's house, which involves removing most of the furniture. Goldblatt's image appears to capture this moment of grief beautifully and poignantly; here, the room appears almost bare, with only the necessities. Every detail of the widow's gestures implies mourning and emphasise the intimate details of the Ukuzila customs, from the bare shrouded furniture, to her dress. The controlled nature of the widow's gesture conveying mourning or remorse, emphasises the attentive detail with which Goldblatt composes his images, offering a rare glimpse of this private moment.

The photograph was captured in 1975 during apartheid, which is crucial to the purpose of the image because many of Goldblatt's photographs have this political context. Following the election of the National Party in 1948, social structures were imposed on communities across South Africa to create racially segregated communities. Goldblatt scrutinised the political climate by magnifying these social structures to create a comprehensive photographic social history of life under apartheid. Goldblatt was of Lithuanian-Jewish descent; his parents had been brought to South Africa in the 1890s as children to escape persecution. He therefore identified with those who faced discrimination under apartheid and, despite not campaigning publicly, he opposed the National Party throughout his lifetime by associating himself with the white liberal movement. For instance, during 1986 he collaborated with anti-apartheid activist Nadine Gordimer to create 'Lifetime: Under Apartheid', and took part in other exhibitions with a similar sentiment. During the following year he donated the majority of his work to the V&A. Worried by the intensified conflict he was experiencing in South Africa, he wanted his work to be seen as a documentation of that time and accessed by an international audience. "His achievement, though, is as a photographer not of large or terrible events but of conditions and states. By focusing not on the central events of a nation's chronic crisis but on the specific textures, objects, and incidents of its daily experience, Goldblatt has compiled an overall indictment and a panoramic history." - David Frankel, Artforum, 2002.

His photographs are less explicit than photojournalism, they have a dignified and non-violent approach which makes the images appealingly real. They look instead at the intimate details of life under apartheid, providing a more textured approach to documenting social histories. Placed within this context this image is a sensitive portrayal; her gestures become a wider concern. We immediately identify tragedy and grief in the image because mourning is a universal experience.

Once apartheid had been lifted, Goldblatt turned his attention to colour photography, but he continued to capture inequality and struggles of many South Africans throughout the subsequent decades. For many, his move to colour photography coincides with the end of the apartheid movement and was symbolic of independence. However, Goldblatt still desaturated his images for fear that it they would be 'too sweet, too colourful'. Certainly Goldblatt has since emphasised that there was little immediate change in post-apartheid South Africa, and that the same values were as relevant in his body of work in the period after apartheid. Today he is considered one of the most prolific photographers of the period.

"When I started taking photographs again in 1998, after completing 'South Africa: the Structure of Things Then', I experienced no bump. It was almost a seamless transition; seamless in the sense that I found my concerns were exactly the same as during the apartheid years. This surprised me because during the years of apartheid there was obviously a much more potent sense of purpose and of concern. It was then that I realised my concern is with values. Looking at 'Boksburg', for instance, I was asking myself how it was possible to be so apparently normal, moral, upright - which almost all those citizens were - in such an appallingly abnormal, immoral, bizarre situation? This goes back to values, to how one balances these extraordinary differences in values." David Goldblatt, 2002.

A Widow in her House can be seen in Elizabeth Price Curates: IN A DREAM YOU SAW A WAY TO SURVIVE AND YOU WERE FULL OF JOY until 31st October 2016

Rosy Whittemore (Visitor Team Assistant)

Photos by Jack Makin (Visitor Team Assistant)

Sources

Victoria & Albert Museum, A Widow in her house, near Flagstaff, Transkei. Available at: [http://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O199896/a-widow-in-her-house-photograph-goldblatt-david/]

Victoria & Albert, David Goldblatt. Available at: [http://www.vam.ac.uk/content/articles/d/david-goldblatt-and-the-v-and-a/] David Goldblatt, Kith, Kin & Khaya. South African Photographs. Johannesburg (2010), p.192

South African History Online (2016) David Goldblatt. Available at: [http://www.sahistory.org.za/people/david-goldblatt]

David Goldblatt: Photographs from South Africa (1998) Introduction. Available at: [http://www.moma.org/interactives/exhibitions/1998/goldblatt/index.html]

Sean O'Toole (2002) artthrob, Issue No. 64, December 2002. Available at: [http://www.artthrob.co.za/02dec/artbio.html]

Peter Magubane, Vanishing cultures of South Africa, Marriage. Struik publishers (1998)

Work #70

Effigy of Eleanor of Aquitaine, Queen of Henry II of England, from Fontevrault Abbey

Unknown Artists, Early 13th century, cast c.1852-4

Plaster cast with restored pigmentation

(On loan from the Victoria and Albert Museum, given by the Trustees of the Crystal Palace)

IN A DREAM YOU SAW A WAY TO SURVIVE AND YOU WERE FULL OF JOY, curated by Turner Prize winning artist Elizabeth Price, encompasses a wide range of works dealing with the reclining or recumbent body. The plaster cast copy of the effigy of Eleanor of Aquitaine dates to between 1852-4, and is one of a number of horizontal works that represent the act of mourning. It is currently on loan from the Victoria and Albert museum.

Full-length effigies, known as a ‘gisants’ (French for ‘recumbent’), were common in the high and later middle ages as funerary monuments for the nobility and royalty in churches. Lying on her deathbed with her head propped up and an open prayer book in her hands, the effigy of the deceased queen straddles the line between living and dead, and hints at the eternal life which she and her contemporaries would have hoped for. Indeed, as well as serving as a focal point of remembrance for high ranking individuals, effigies such as this would have served as shrines at which prayers could be offered to speed the soul of the deceased from Purgatory and into Heaven.

Despite being in her late eighties when she died, the style of the time was to present idealistic representations of individuals, hence why her features conform to standards of beauty and royalty at the time. The Queen is depicted wearing a dress that would have been painted in bright colours, and over the wimple that was a common accessory of the time, sits the crown that defined her. The original effigy was carved from alabaster and sits alongside an effigy to her second husband, King Henry II, and one of her sons, King Richard I (commonly known by his epithet, ‘the Lionheart’) in Fontevrault Abbey, France. The effigy of Eleanor shows traces of a bright blue pigment on her robes, whilst her dress underneath would have been carved with intricate patterns. This aim to recapture the vibrancy and colour of life - to make it appear as though the queen herself was lying recumbent - stems from earlier funerary practices, where the corpses of royalty and nobility would be dressed in splendour and put on public display. Despite attempts at preservation, the cadaver would inevitably start to putrefy, occasionally resulting in the body exploding in situ. Earlier stone effigies from the medieval period often included actual hair and teeth from the deceased. These effigies served as earthly reminders of the people they represented, their wealth and prestige, and of a society which had to confront death more frequently than our own.

The high quality of the sculpture hints at the status Eleanor had during her life. The heir to the vast holdings of Aquitaine in the west of France, Eleanor was married off to the future King of France, Louis VII. Eleanor accompanied her husband on the second Crusade, where tension between the married couple grew. Following a disastrous campaign, which resulted in the crusading forces being massacred by a Turkish army as they marched to relieve the siege of Acre, Eleanor returned home and procured an annulment, marrying Henry of Anjou only two months later. When her new husband ascended the English throne in 1154 as Henry II, Eleanor went from being Queen of France to Queen of England. In an often explosive marriage, Eleanor had to manage the ambitions of her sons with that of her husband, which culminated in Eleanor being imprisoned by her husband for fifteen years. Upon Henry’s death, Eleanor was released by her son, King Richard as one of his first acts in power. Still active late in life, she underwent an arduous journey to Castile in her late seventies in order to negotiate a marriage proposal, and was even briefly held captive by an ambitious lord. She retired to Fontevrault abbey, where she died in 1204.

The effigy to Eleanor of Aquitaine does little to hint at the incredible life she lived, but the nineteenth century plaster-cast copy of the original does underline the enduring fascination about her. The plaster cast has been hand painted in order to reproduce some of the qualities of the original. It is, in many ways, a monument to a monument; a celebration of the craftsmanship involved in carving the original alabaster effigy. The fact that the original craftsmen are nameless, as are the nineteenth century plasterers, hints at a connection between the two sets of artists who were working 600 years apart.

The effigy of Eleanor of Aquitaine can be seen in Elizabeth Price Curates: IN A DREAM YOU SAW A WAY TO SURVIVE AND YOU WERE FULL OF JOY until 31st October 2016

Matthew Mullen (Visitor Team Assistant)

Photos by Jack Makin (Visitor Team Assistant)

Further Reading:

Helen Castor – She-Wolves: The Women who Ruled England before Elizabeth (2010)

Mark Duffy – Royal Tombs of Medieval England (2011)

Your Views

We love hearing from our visitors. Have you seen this work on display and want to share your views or send us a creative response?

It’s been one month since WARP festival, a weekend of music, art and dance programmed by the Whitworth Young Contemporaries, a youth group of 15-25 year olds. Thousands of people came to the gallery and park during that weekend to enjoy the unexpected. Roxanna Sultan, a member of the WYC, was heavily involved in the planning and execution of the festival. Here, she looks back on the challenges and triumphs of staging a warped weekend...

 Over the 25th and 26th of June, the Whitworth Young Contemporaries worked alongside the gallery to host a festival, unlike any other in Whitworth Park. Aiming to celebrate the commissioned ‘Ghost Tree’ by artist Anya Gallaccio as well as the youth groups work, both inside the Whitworth and the park were transformed with decorations suspended from trees and hand painted festival signs. Showcasing the best of Manchester’s up-and-coming artists, musicians and performers, our young people were able to participate in programming and curating the free event.

 Entering the site early on Saturday morning, I noticed the weather take a turn for the worst as everyone grouped together in order to complete the final touches. The Teenage Market traders arrived and promptly set up their stalls as WYC members rode around the local area and Oxford Road on our bespoke bicycles fitted with sound systems, hand decorated and painted. As the volunteers, staff and WYC gathered in the Art Garden to take group pictures the excitement built and the clouds dispersed. Opening the main stage at 12pm the festival began to come alive. Families set up picnic blankets, relishing in the sounds of young musicians/composers, Michael and Ben from Brighter Sound. Workshop tents were quickly full with people busy creating models with clay and screen-printing WARP Festival tote bags.

 Responsible for main stage artist liaison, I spent most of the day chasing our WYC host, Pat and assisting the music acts, as well as moving equipment and making sure artists were being interviewed backstage. As I was the only young contemporary with a radio I was also responsible for responding to any requests or questions from staff positioned around the park and inside the gallery. The art sheds, which all featured an interactive element, were teeming with young people and families. Within our ‘fairytale’ shed, decorated outside with intricate, hand crafted sweets and candies, we commissioned a storyteller who read passages from his grandmother’s diary. There the public were able to sit down and have a very intimate experience, in contrast to the more traditional performances around the park.

 As the day progressed more and more of a crowd built around the main stage and within the gallery. Young teens and children dominated the Minecraft workshops, hosted by the Whitworth. Throughout the day the park remained a hub of energy for everyone wanting to get involved. However, within the building was a much more relaxed and calm atmosphere, with our WARP cinema in the Grand Hall showcasing films chosen by HOME. Walking through the park, seeing young people eating, drinking, dancing and generally enjoying themselves made me feel extremely happy to have been a part of planning the event, especially once our headliners and good friends, Cul De Sac showed up. We all headed for the main stage to watch beat boxer, Biggun perform with his Dad in tow as well as Pat free styling alongside. Bigguns experienced and skilled vocal performance echoed throughout the park as our sound system perfectly projected the heavy bass.

 Anya Gallaccios ‘Ghost Tree’ attracted attention from all ages. Young people stood in awe at the base of the tree and gazed up to observe the bold steel structure, polished to perfection. As I listened to the sounds of the Future Skills stage, set up in our glass café overlooking the park, I realised we had created something special that would leave a longstanding impression with our peers and the rest of our generation. Once I had finished helping one of the music acts, Henge, unload their theatrical costumes and instruments I went to participate in the activities around the park. Surprising the festivalgoers were KAPOW collective and the Awkward Peaches doing pop up dance performances around the park and within our performance area. A group of four women, painted green and adorned with twigs, branches and leaves moved hypnotically to a chilling soundscape.

 The Art Sheds became quiet nearing our headline acts; BurgaBoy and Children of Zeus prepared the crowd. Most of my work for the day was done and JoJo, our main stage coordinator, suggested I enjoy myself. Finding other WYC members, friends and family, we swayed to the soulful sound of Tyler Daley and KonnyKon that Unity Radio had programmed. Burning my mouth on cheesy chips and gravy did not distract me from the massive achievements of our youth group, all working hard to ensure the weekend was a success.We assembled in front of the stage for the exclusive collaboration between Cul De Sac and Kaleidoscope Orchestra. The crowd only grew as the 24 piece ensemble worked their instruments, covering contemporary modern music from the likes of Major Lazer. Shortly after getting warmed up the four talented lyricists, Cul De Sac appeared on stage. Looking around I noticed I was surrounded by my colleagues and friends all equally enjoying the experience and I felt completely content. Every person on stage gave so much energy; both independently and collectively, the crowd chanted ‘ENCORE!’ and received a final performance of ‘Know We Now’, which was the perfect end to WARP Festival.

Programming an after party within the gallery was an amazing idea as the public quickly queued for our ticketed yet free event. The night was spent with Whitworth staff, WYC members, our peers and many of the WARP performers dancing to the international sounds of So Flute, who hosted in the Grand Hall. Deck chairs filled the South Gallery and a man strummed away freely on his guitar while people still full of energy battled on the arcade machines. For me personally, to see the Whitworth so alive at night with young people able to appreciate and use the space was worth all the hard work. Midnight came too soon; we slowly emptied out of the building and a very talented friend commended us on whole event, saying, ‘YOU’VE SMASHED IT!’ and with that I took my swollen feet home.  

We are continuing to highlight our amazing #whitworthvolunteers. Our volunteers dedicate their free time to bringing art, education, and well-being to communities surrounding the Whitworth and beyond. We chatted to Maria Ramos -- our Textile Assistant Volunteer, who works in direct contact with some of the textiles from our extensive collection. Maria finds volunteering here to be a great way for her to learn how an art gallery works from the inside. "The first time I saw the building a few months before the reopening I fell in love! When I had the opportunity to see the inside during my first volunteering meeting, my love was confirmed!" 

Maria also finds volunteering rewarding, since it "gives you the opportunity to offer something to the community." Through volunteering for almost 18 months, Maria has shared some great experiences with staff and other volunteers, from the pure enjoyment of the exhibitions to the interesting conversations with visitors. She's gained confidence, valuable work experience, and ultimately "a place where I feel at home." 

We also spoke to Imogen Webb who volunteers in the Collections Centre and as a Family Workshop Assistant during the school holidays. Imogen says she wanted to be involved with the 'next step' of the Whitworth after seeing the gallery before it closed for redevelopment. She sees the Whitworth as 'a vibrant, impressive, characterful and open place, a contemporary and cultural creative hub local to me.' Imogen loves sharing her passion for art with the public, colleagues and friends, and views the Collections Centre as a space where visitors are brought closer to the gallery and its collections.

'It (the Collections Centre) is an artery in the body of the Whitworth, and I enjoy being custodian for this small space linked to a bigger picture. Volunteering in enrichment.' As well as giving so much to the gallery, Imogen also says she has gained a lot from volunteering. 'The training sessions and opportunities offered to volunteers are diverse, numerous, and valuable. I feel part of a talented, forward-thinking, and friendly community all beavering away in this city for the betterment of themselves, other people, Manchester, and beyond.'

Work #69

Paul Nash 1889-1946

The Field of Passchendaele c. 1917

Pen and black ink, coloured chalks and bodycolour on dark grey paper

 (On loan from Manchester City Galleries)

The First World War had a profound impact on many British artists but none shows a transformation in their work quite like that of Paul Nash. Prior to the war, while some of his contemporaries were forming groups, creating manifestos and embracing Modernist movements from the continent, Nash followed a different path. His pre-war paintings looked back to William Blake and Samuel Palmer and he had a deep affinity with the ancient British landscape – he is known to have personified aspects of the landscape, most notably a group of tall elm trees that grew at the bottom of his garden in Iver Heath, Buckinghamshire. Nash wrote that ‘they appeared to be hurrying along stooping and undulating like a queue of urgent females with fantastic hats’.

In Visions From the Front 1916-18, trees feature predominantly throughout the works of art, but in Nash’s images they are utterly changed in character from his pre-war work. Some are upturned and splayed out, others stand up straight and frazzled, all are blasted and torn. These branchless and lifeless stumps have come to represent the millions of people who perished on the battlefields of northern France one hundred years ago.

The Field of Passchendaele (c.1917) is no exception; spindly black trees haunt the background and in the very centre a tree is forced out of the ground by its roots. But there are also less symbolic, more literal signs of human destruction. A military coat, impaled on a bloodied barbed wire fence, hangs limply, the sleeve dipping into one of the flooded craters. A reddish hue can be seen through the central bomb crater, perhaps showing the clay soil beneath or perhaps emanating from a rotten corpse. Helmets, rucksacks and scraps of metal are strewn across the landscape – the refuse of war.

 Nash was appalled by what he saw in late 1917 and his letters home describe the nightmare vividly; his condemnation of the war becomes clear when he declares:

“I am no longer an artist interested and curious; I am a messenger who will bring back word from the men who are fighting to those who want the war to go on for ever. Feeble, inarticulate, will be my message, but it will have a bitter truth, and may it burn their lousy souls.”

By the time Nash made these drawings and penned his resolution, he had already been deployed to the front, invalided back to Britain with a broken rib, and subsequently returned to France as an official war artist. However, if we look back to spring 1917, Nash’s first impressions of the trenches were rather more ambivalent. He wrote in a letter home:

“The willows are orange, the poplars carmine with buds, the streams gleam brightest blue and flights of pigeons go wheeling about the field. Mixed up with all this normal beauty of nature you see the strange beauty of war.”

Like many of his comrades with an artistic/Romantic bent, the destruction and desperation of war was feeding his imagination and many of his pictures from spring 1917 onwards depict colourful scenes undisturbed by war. One only needs to compare these earlier pictures (Spring in the Trenches, Ridge Wood 1917) with The Field of Passchendaele to gauge the horror inflicted upon those who took part in the battle described as “the blindest slaughter of a blind war” – a fate which Paul Nash so narrowly avoided.

By the time of the armistice in 1918, the energy of Futurism and Vorticism had dissipated and those artists who had seemed so ready for war in 1914 were crushed by the experience of it. In a parallel development, Paul Nash, the painter-poet of landscapes in watercolour had produced some of the most distinctive, memorable and shocking images of the western front and was similarly affected by his experiences at the front.  Nash suffered a severe breakdown in 1921, diagnosed as ‘war strain’, and to recuperate he lived for several years at Dymchurch on the Kent coast, painting the shoreline and the ancient landscape of nearby Romney Marsh.  These subjects became a preoccupation in his work until 1925.

Nash would go on to be one of the nation’s most admired artists. He was known not just for his war pictures but also for prints and book illustrations, theatre and textile designs and surrealist inspired landscapes. Many of these will be on display at a major retrospective which opens on the 26th October at Tate Britain. In the meantime, there is another exhibition, on tour from the Imperial War Museum and featuring some war paintings by Paul Nash, currently on show at York Art Gallery called Truth and Memory: British Art of the First World War.

 Guest Post by Harry Cassidy (Whitworth Visitor)

Photos by Jack Makin (Visitor Team Assistant)

Further Reading

Boyd Haycock, D. (2010), A Crisis of Brilliance: Five Young British Artists and the Great War

Graham-Dixon, A. (1999),

A History of British Art

Harrison, C. (1994),

English Art and Modernism, 1900-39

http://www.iwm.org.uk/learning/resources/british-art-of-the-first-world-war

YOUR VIEWS

We love hearing from our visitors. Have you seen this work on display and want to share your views or send us a creative response? Let us know on social media using the hashtag #workoftheweek

We are continuing to shine a light on our amazing #whitworthvolunteers who dedicate their free time to bringing art, education and well-being to communities surrounding the Whitworth and beyond. With our #whitworthWARP festival and #ESOF16 just around the corner, our volunteers will be key in helping across these and many other events in Manchester.

We chatted to Rebecca Bailey who is a Collections Centre and a Loans Out Volunteer. Rebecca started volunteering here because of our amazing collection and our commitment to enthusing other about it. “The Whitworth has always aimed for 'the perpetual gratification of the people of Manchester’ and its dedication to do so oozes from the gallery’s place and its people!”. Through volunteering she has gained an “insight into both visitor engagement and ‘behind-the-scenes’ processes’ and is “thoroughly enjoying each in equal part!”.

 We also spoke to Alex Smith, who works as a Family Workshop Volunteer. Alex started volunteering at the Whitworth because she enjoys working with people, doing fun activities and having a generally great time! She enjoys being an Event Volunteer because there are "loads of different styles of events, for all kinds of people" and "the programme is really engaging and easy to be part of!" Which Alex feels is the most important aspect. "I've learnt about artists and ways of creating that I hadn't heard of before. Creating things seems more possible and achievable." 

Work #68

Vincent Van Gogh 1853-1890 The Fortifications of Paris with Houses 1887 Pencil, black chalk and watercolour on grey paper

Red and green. I've always liked the combination of these two colours, since it reminds me of Christmas. The contrast of Santa's red and the tree's green used to make my heart flutter with the image of blissful Christmas. Thus, I was impressed when I first saw Van Gogh's The Night Cafe as part of a postcard gift set of famous paintings when I was a schoolchild. The cafe is filled with lonely, sad and fatigued people with hunched shoulders and the angry-looking man in the middle. Van Gogh's exquisite reds and greens create a totally different, macabre energy far from Christmas there and I was mesmerised by the sad and destructive clash of the colours in the painting. That was my first encounter with Vincent van Gogh.

"I’d begun to sign my canvases, but I soon stopped; it seemed too silly to me. On a seascape, however, there’s a very outrageous red signature, because I wanted a red note in the green."

(13 Aug. 1888)

Recently, I have met him again where I work, through his piece, The Fortifications of Paris with Houses, which is currently on show in our Collections Centre as part of the show, We Are Willow - Berlin. We Are Willow presents the themes of isolation, voyeurism, escape and disorientation through ‘Berlin’. The artists have selected some pieces that correspond to their music and photography, and Van Gogh's work is one of them. When I first encountered the work, I was quite surprised for several reasons. I'm an admirer of Van Gogh's art, but I had never seen this work. Furthermore, the work is so beautiful, sad and poetic, full of mysteries and stories, and whilst I am used to his oil paintings, this is an exquisite watercolour.

The fortifications around Paris were constructed between 1841 and 1845 for the defence of Paris from invasion. They failed as a defensive system during the Franco-Prussian War (1870-71) but by the 1880s, the area beyond them was used by working class people for recreation. Van Gogh mentioned in his letter "I am definitely not a landscape painter, when I do landscapes there will always be something of the figure in them." and indeed, we can find some figures in this painting as well. The two characters in the foreground have been created with only the feeble outline of black chalk, leaving nothing but a ghostly, surreal trace of them. I think this part, the ghostly couple, is the highlight of the painting, giving lots of room for your own imagination to explore. When pared with the music of We Are Willow, feelings of loss, memory and longing come to mind.

A lady is seen walking alone in the background, and I believe she could be the same lady seen in the foreground, considering their similar shapes and structure. The sky above the lady in the back is quite dark as if it will soon rain, or it might already be raining, since she is holding an umbrella. However, the sky above the couple is brighter, and in the expression of the ground, you can see very bright lemon-yellow brush strokes underneath the couple, as if lots of small pieces of sunshine are pouring upon them. I imagine the couple in the front is the projection of consciousness from the woman walking behind. The projection of happy, sunny days with her love, days which don't exist anymore. It reminds me of the power of the dead over the living. The couple's vision in front might be reflecting the woman's repressed longing and yearning for her lost love, and then this painting could be connected to the Freudian notion of "the return of the repressed". In same aspects, the painting is very "uncanny"(unheimlich), if I were to borrow from Freud again.    

Van Gogh's other work Starry Night over the Rhone also comes to mind when viewing this work. Putting two lovers in the foreground, the stars are sparklingly glittering like golden flowers in full bloom in dark, greenish-blue. It shows the dreamy combination of nature and romance, and the beautiful sky, stars and the river seem to bless the couple's love, pouring a dazzling shine upon them. I think that piece is an excellent contrast with the Fortifications of Paris with Houses. About the lovers and their romance, the former is showing the moment of climax whereas the latter is depicting the days of loss. You can observe how Van Gogh is using nature and landscapes in his paintings to express the sincere emotions of the people exploring them. It is quite significant for me that Van Gogh has chosen a grey paper for this work since it adds a gloomy atmosphere to the painting, and I think it was the right choice for composing such a sad and sentimental nocturne about loss and memories.  

Van Gogh is quite well known for living against the social norms. Therefore, when I read a collection of Van Gogh's letters to his brother Theo at school, I was surprised to find a different artist to the one I was looking for. He was not the man established by social discourses, a "tortured genius and a madman." He was a very focused, diligent and hard working artist practicing, studying and agonising about his work all the time.

During his lifetime, Van Gogh sold just one painting and a series of sketches out of his 879 works. He had to struggle with poverty all the time, eating in a soup kitchen and borrowing money from his younger brother. However, he kept drawing and left extraordinarily beautiful art works full of vitality, unique style and honest emotion. In some aspects, his words about Kee remind me of his great, unrequited love toward art "risking his life" and "having his reason foundered" as he said. Thus, let me end this writing with his own words.

"From the beginning of this love, I’ve felt that unless I threw myself into it unreservedly, committing myself to it whole-heartedly, fully and forever, there would be absolutely no chance for me, and even if I’ve thrown myself into it in the above-mentioned way, that doesn’t alter the fact that the chance is very small. But does it matter to me if the chance is larger or smaller? I mean, must I, can I, take that into account when I am in love? No- no thought to the winnings- one loves because one loves. 

To love - what a business!"

(10-11 Nov. 1881)

We are Willow - Berlin closes Sunday 12 June 2016

http://www.whitworth.manchester.ac.uk/whats-on/exhibitions/currentexhibitions/wearewillow/

Hwan-young, Seong (Visitor Team Assistant)

Photos by Jack Makin (Visitor Team Assistant)

References

vangoghletters.org/vg/letters.html

Further Reading 

The Letters of Vincent van Gogh, Penguin Classics

Your Views

We love hearing from our visitors. Have you seen this work on display and want to share your views or send us a creative response?

To celebrate #volunteersweek we are shining the spotlight on the backbone and heart of the gallery, our #whitworthvolunteers. Over the next few weeks you'll meet some of our volunteers who dedicate their free time to bringing art, education and well-being to communities surrounding the Whitworth and beyond. With our #whitworthWARP festival and #ESOF16 just around the corner, our volunteers will be key in helping across these and many other events in Manchester. 

To help launch this exciting new project, we spoke to our Volunteers Manager, Fiona Cariss. As the Volunteers Manager, Fee looks after 130 Whitworth Volunteers and is at the head of the Volunteers Programme at MIF and this year's ESOF16. 

"I remember visiting the Whitworth for the first time with school when I was 12 years old and I wrote a poem about one of the exhibitions. I've visited ever since and seen gigs here, choirs, rap battles and baby workshops. It's not just about the artwork here - the team put on such diverse events and workshops and we're constantly striving to attract new visitors all the time.

 I've gained a lot more knowledge about art from working at the Whitworth. I've loved getting to know the many artists and works in our collection, which is incredible! Thanks to the Whitworth, along with a lot of volunteers, I am now a trained Walk Leader with Ramblers and Macmillan Walking for Health programme, I am a Dementia Friend and trained in Mental Health for Young People and many more! I feel very lucky to work in this striking building and with such a multi-talented team." 

Work #67

Derrick Greaves (1927- )

Victor Musgrave and Monika Kinley (1980)

Mixed media collage on canvas

This outstanding portrait sees Victor Musgrave and Monika Kinley presiding over the current Portraits exhibition as well they might, it features 25 works from the Musgrave Kinley Outsider Art Trust on display out of nearly 800 donated to the Whitworth.

Many visitors pay close attention to the work and often discuss their reactions to it with Visitor Team Assistants. However, we don’t always know the answers to the variety of questions we get asked, so, with the kind assistance of the James Hyman Gallery, Mr Greaves has very generously answered those questions himself.

Question: What is it made of? Is it wood veneer?

Derek Greaves: The support was an ordinary canvas, at the time I frequently used existing canvases which I had around in the studio and the paper, usually cheap cartridge paper, was collaged onto the canvas support. Sometimes many thicknesses of this collage paper was used.

Q: Was it commissioned or how the portrait came about?

D.G:  At that time II would engage in drawing pairs or couples that I knew - Monika Kinley was my agent then and Victor Musgrave, her partner, was an old friend and had written a forward for me in an Arts Council catalogue.

Q: Did it require sittings or was it a moment with them that caught his interest?

D.G: The sitting for this portrait took place in my studio at Woburn after dinner.

Q: The time period for the clothing/fashion seems difficult to define but the More cigarette and the hairstyles evoke a image of a glamorous Richard Burton and Liz Taylor type couple but Victor and Monika wear the somber clothes akin to a religious order; was this how they looked or was you trying express an seriousness or intensity about the couple?

D.G: Victor was wearing a bulky poncho, he was always very aware that he had to protect himself against cold draughts and was sensitive to sudden drops in temperature. The long cigarette or cigar that Monika was smoking is the kind of long cigar that she preferred. That was habitual. I was not trying to express a seriousness or intensity about the couple, they were like that, both very serious and both intense.

Q: How did you come to chose that pose ? Monika sitting at Victor's knees suggests an informal sitting around after dinner but her raised finger could be that of an acolyte declaiming on behalf of a leader.

D.G: Monika's raised finger was also habitual and was usually a way that she drew  attention when she was at auctions.

Q: Did they like it?

D.G: I gave the portrait to Monika Kinley and both of them liked it well enough I think. I am very pleased that it is in the Whitworth collection.

Trustees of the Musgrave Kinley Outsider Art Collection generously presented the entire collection to the Whitworth Art Gallery in March 2010. The gift was facilitated by the Contemporary Art Society. The Whitworth would also like to thank the Eric and Salome Estorick Foundation for their significant support of the Musgrave Kinley Outsider Art Collection.

'Victor Musgrave and Monika Kinley' can be seen in the Portraits Exhibition until 23 October 2016.

Dave Brind and David Dennehy (Visitor Team Assistants)

Photos by Jack Makin (Visitor Team Assistant)

FURTHER READING

http://www.jameshymangallery.com/artists/101/statement/derrick-greaves

Listen to The Whitworth Director Maria Balshaw leading a discussion about the changing relationship of ‘Outsider Art’ to the mainstream art system.

https://soundcloud.com/thewhitworth/sets/intuition-symposium

The Guardian obituary of Monika Kinley

http://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2014/apr/06/monika-kinley

YOUR VIEWS

Work #66

 Ben Rivers

Bandits’ Camp part of the film installation The Two Eyes Are Not Brothers (2015)  - 19 minutes 32 seconds

16mm film transferred to video 

Co-commissioned by Artangel and the Whitworth.

 The Two Eyes Are Not Brothers is an exploration of different ways of storytelling in Morocco through the mediums of filmmaking and installation. Hovering somewhere between documentary and fiction, the work presents multiple ways of looking, telling and re-telling stories. Featuring unedited footage, films about other filmmakers making films and also film portraits of two individuals – one a storyteller, the other a character within someone else’s story. All shown within ‘cinemas’ constructed from salvaged film sets that mimic the abandoned sets in the Moroccan desert.

The two Moroccan-based writers/storytellers that have heavily inspired The Two Eyes Are Not Brothers are Paul Bowles (1910-1999) and Mohammed Mrabet (1936-). Paul Bowles was an American author and translator who lived in Tangier, Morocco for most of his life. Famous for writing stories that were inspired by Morocco, the works were often centred around the themes of language and the exotic landscape. Mrabet is a Moroccan storyteller, artist and was Paul Bowles’ muse in the 1940s. He features in his own film within this installation, telling the camera (and us) two of his own dark fables. Rivers cleverly uses these two writers to distil the essence of both their place and their stories for this work.

The installation is Ben Rivers’ loose interpretation of Paul Bowles’ brutal short story A Distant Episode (published in 1947). The story is about a Western Linguistics professor who is abducted by Saharan bandits and has his tongue cut out. The bandits force the professor to now live in a beautiful but sinister suit fashioned from tin-can lids, his only purpose now is to dance for their entertainment. A Distant Episode interrogates the role of language within different cultures and the divisions that separate them, particularly between the Western and the North African world. Bowles uses the incredibly visceral metaphor of removing the professor’s tongue to remove language to see how this alters his identity and link to the outside world. The story has lent Rivers some of its strongest imagery and characters. The clearest link within the installation to the adaption of Bowles’ story is in the film Bandits’ camp.

 Bandits’ camp is charged with themes of power, masculinity and post-colonial arrogance. It is a raw footage film set in the fictional camp where the professor is being held. Due to the nature of the film being unedited, instead of providing a glimpse into the narrative, it provides a unique viewing experience of watching a film that is still being created. It’s observational filming that reveals its own making to us.

"What we see here is all the shots I’ve taken in this one camp, completely unbroken, unedited, exactly the way I shot them in camera with all the mistakes and all the repeats. I really like all the actors’ looks at the camera especially as they’re non-professional actors. I like the way they look at each other and at me and the camera. There are some really nice little moments” – Ben Rivers.

The footage depicts the bandits acting, singing and talking amongst themselves between takes. There are no English subtitles in this film to provide translation of the dialogue. The intention here is to read this situation visually not literally. To use our imagination to suppose the conversations and scripted lines that we are witnessing. The lack of direct translation immediately creates the sense of being an outsider - like Rivers in Morocco. Paul Bowles’ work frequently centred around the theme of being a creative outsider in a foreign land. This post-colonial idea of being an outsider in another country and having the confidence to be creatively free is (according to Ben Rivers) something often experienced by filmmakers in places like Morocco.

Whilst depicting the powerful (bandits) the film also depicts the powerless (professor in the tin-can suit). In Rivers’ version of A Distant Episode the professor has been swapped for a film director (another self-referential nod to the act of filmmaking). However, we don’t know that from watching this film, all we can see are several scenes of the figure dancing over and over. These scenes are mesmerisingly beautiful but also have sinister undertones due to the surreal nature of them. The film also features flashes of other moments that (being out of context without a narrative) give the film a dream-like quality.

The exhibition is dramatic and labyrinthine in both its concepts and its literal physicality. These film sets - having been taken out of their natural context - are given a completely new meaning. The Whitworth's spaces give these salvaged cinemas an imposing, sculptural quality that dominate in the dark. Now the outside/back of these film sets can be viewed and their intriguing aesthetic details are intentionally revealed to us. Rivers also reverses the intention of a film set with this installation, turning them into cinemas to show rather than shoot film within. Archived sound brings this work together - music, chanting and thematic sounds resonate across the galleries, bleeding into each viewing of each film.

The Sky Trembles And The Earth Is Afraid And The Two Eyes Are Not Brothers is a feature film that Ben Rivers created at the same time as The Two Eyes Are Not Brothers installation. The Bandits’ camp and Las Mimosas footage that features within the show at the Whitworth is unedited material shot for the feature film but re-appropriated for the installation. The feature film and the installation are inter-connected but are significantly different. The feature film follows one clear linear narrative in a conventional feature film format; compared to the installation that is a non-linear, fragmented version of multiple stories. Rivers describes the installation as being an “exploded view of ideas”.

There is a sense of tension, an uneasiness that builds during the viewing and re-viewing of these films. A feeling of anticipation that is ultimately unfulfilled because there is no narrative pay off at the end. Instead of a straight-forward narrative The Two Eyes Are Not Brothers creates a complex, multi-layered impression of all the components that influenced this work - the Moroccan landscape, filmmaking and the evocative stories of Paul Bowles and Mohammed Mrabet. 

 Holly Matthews (Visitor Team Assistant)

Photos by Jack Makin (Visitor Team Assistant)

 Further reading:

https://www.artangel.org.uk/project/the-two-eyes-are-not-brothers/

Rivers, Ben. The Sky Trembles And The Earth Is Afraid And The Two Eyes Are Not Brothers, (2015, Artangel, London). This Artist’s book is available in the shop at the Whitworth.

YOUR VIEWS

We love hearing from our visitors. Have you seen this work on display and want to share your views or send us a creative response?

Work #65

Wallpapers: 'White and Gold' c1959-61, Lightbown Aspinall (WPM). Palladio

Magnus range. 

Presented by CW group (2011).

A gallery is a public space, but when you are invigilating you are privy to seeing some visitors having a personal or private viewing of an artwork. I’m sharing the ‘White and Gold’, 'Turquoise and Gold’ and 'Chocolate and Gold’ wallpapers from Lightbown Aspinall’s Palladio Magnus range as my Work of the Week, because of the effect they had on a visitor who was clearly having a 'Whitworth Moment’.

This very smart and distinguished-looking gentleman spent maybe ten or fifteen minutes enjoying and remarking on the Wallpapers exhibition with his friend (who then wandered off into another exhibition).  They were obviously having a lovely time and as an invigilator you sometimes have to make the decision whether to engage and chat to visitors or simply leave them in their contemplation. This time I decided I had to approach this gentleman because a big smile had crept on to my face as I watched him move around. I was intrigued by the experience he was having and wanted to find out what was making him so happy.  

I found he was delighted to talk about the exhibition which he thought was fantastic and had left him pretty much awestruck.  He had travelled from London to see our Tibor Reich and Wallpapers exhibitions and everything he’d seen had clearly stirred something in him.  I’m guessing he’d been an Art or Design student in the early 1960's because he told me the three wallpapers had had such a great impact on him, he then recalled how ground-breaking the Palladio range was. This range was issued by Wall Paper Manufacturers Ltd, who (following the 1951 Festival of Britain) embarked on an initiative to introduce contemporary design through their collection of Architects’ Book of One Hundred Wallpapers.  A branch of WPM was an innovative Stockport-based family business - Lightbown Aspinall. They were the driving force in forging relationships with and commissioning some of Britain’s top-ranking designers to produce the ambitious Palladio Magnus designs.  

My visitor explained how the big and bold patterns were classic examples of the Palladio Magnus collection, making direct reference to the 16th century Venetian architect Palladio, and that the specific aim of these was to pique the interest of a new wave of architects designing public and commercial buildings.  The designs were bestowed with names like ‘Sheraton’ (1961), ‘Alhambra’ (1963), denoting grand architectural style and aspiration.  

Apart from simply enjoying the wallpapers my visitor further contextualised for me how pivotal the mid-1950s were for wallpaper manufacturers and home furnishing suppliers. They were responding to the public’s new-found optimism in post-war Britain, alongside a new appetite for cool new design, textures and colours in their interior (and fashion) tastes.  

I don’t think my visitor had ever seen these wallpapers hanging on walls before. Now here they were in rich and sumptuous ivory, turquoise, coffee and gold hanging in their four metre glory.  We playfully wondered how fabulous and fitting they might have looked in a plush and sophisticated hotel or restaurant like The Savoy!

Time does fly when you’re having fun as my hour’s invigilating was up and I parted with my very happy and fulfilled visitor, having enjoyed sharing the knowledge and playfulness of his 'Whitworth Moment’.

Emma Allison (Visitor Team Assistant)

Photos by Jack Makin (Visitor Team Assistant)

YOUR VIEWS

We love hearing from our visitors. Have you seen this work on display and want to share your views or send us a creative response?

Let us know on social media using the hashtag #workoftheweek

FURTHER READING

Work #64

Lee Godie 

‘Prince of Chicago’ (undated) ballpoint pen on canvas

Presented by The Musgrave Kinley Outsider Art Trust

“I’m a French Impressionist and better than Cezanne” declared American born Lee Godie when she appeared outside the Art Institute of Chicago in 1968 at the age of 60. Then unknown, she spent the next 24 years selling her work and living on the streets of  Chicago. By 1991 she was a familiar enough figure for the Mayor to issue a proclamation: 

“Now, Therefore, I, Richard M. Daley, Mayor of the City of Chicago, do hereby proclaim September 6 - October 8 1991 to be Lee Godie Exhibition Month in Chicago and urge all citizens to pay homage to a gifted artist."

The author - Michael Bonesteel - describes her appearance:

“Godie could be found selling her art from along north Michigan Avenue and Water Tower Park. You couldn't miss her. Big orange circles were painted on each cheek, eye shadow over her eyes and thick, black eyebrows above her natural ones (all applied from the same paint-box she used to make her pictures). Her preferred clothing consisted of bolt-ends of material which she wrapped around herself in a sort of makeshift Indian sari fastened with safety pins. She never wore pants because she considered them unladylike, yet she was perhaps the first woman to make a fashion statement by wearing a brassiere outside her normal clothing. In the winter, she wore men’s heavy orthopaedic shoes and more than one rabbit-skin coat pieced together from other coats. She often wore a felt hat with a brim over dirty, snarled, grey hair that hung to her shoulders."

Lee Godie would sit with half unrolled canvases and invite those she felt were ‘artistic’ or one of Chicago’s beautiful people to buy. Priced between $25 and $90, the purchase would include a song and dance routine. She had an unfortunate prejudice though; she would not sell to anyone with blonde hair. Her work now sells for between $2,000 and $13,000.

Little is known about how Godie ended up homeless. She kept her belongings,painting materials and salvaged window blinds she used for canvases in lockers at the bus station. A local high end store kept safe her money. Only in extreme weather would she live indoors. The Wall Street Journal published an article on her in 1991. The daughter Godie had abandoned at the age of three read it and identified her, this led to them being reunited. Godie was still living on the streets with dementia and was moved to a care home by her daughter. This is where she taught her daughter to draw and paint during her last years.

Outsider artists can sometimes be described as being unwilling or unable to engage with the traditional art establishments. Godie often worked inside the Art Institute of Chicago and ‘The Prince of Chicago’ is thought to be inspired by a Picasso artwork depicting the ballet master Léonide Massine from the Institute's collection.

It is a work that provokes strong reactions from our younger visitors along the lines of:  “It’s rubbish” or “I could do better”. In response, I’ll let Godie speak for herself: “Now I always try to paint beauty, but some people say my paintings aren’t beautiful. Well, I have a beauty in my mind, but it isn’t always easy to make paintings beautiful.”

‘Prince of Chicago’, ‘Figure of a Girl’ and ‘Chicago – The Heaven on Earth’ (all by Godie) can be seen in our Portraits exhibition until 23 October 2016.

David Dennehy (Visitor Team Assistant)

Photos by Jack Makin (Visitor Team Assistant)

YOUR VIEWS

We love hearing from our visitors. Have you seen this work on display and want to share your views or send us a creative response?

Let us know on social media using the hashtag #workoftheweek

FURTHER READING

Art Institute Chicago

http://www.artic.edu/blog/2011/03/15/lee-godie-french-impressionist

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lee_Godie

Work #63

Nii Obodaii

'Who Knows Tomorrow' (2009)

 As one of a series of prints from the project 'Who knows tomorrow', Nii Obodai presents this black and white digital print from his exploration of Ghanian identity. 'Who knows tomorrow' was a collaborative project between Obodai and the French, Algerian photographer Bruno Boudejelal. Driven by a philosophical understanding of their country, Boudejalal and Obodai travelled around Ghana together for six weeks, exchanging ideas and photographing landscapes and communities. The aim of the project (published by Les Éditions Des L'Oeil, with funding from the French embassy) was to encourage Ghanian 'introspection', to focus on the positive strength of the country, which they believed should completely detach itself from its historically colonial past and take responsibility for itself. This search for meaning in contemporary Ghanian culture is evident throughout Obodai’s contribution; he presents an optimistic vision of Ghana as a poetic and spiritual country with a wealth of potential.

 In this particular image we see a girl and boy at the forefront of the image running into the distance on a windswept beach against glazed over skies. The camera angle appears quite low which seems to suggest a first person childlike perspective, which creates the impression that we are involved in their activity. The vignette effect, where the corners of the print appear to erode, helps to establish the image in the first person. Obodai has often noted that, for him, the camera lens is a source of sight. He captures images without detachment, but directly through the subject's minds eye. Obodai is therefore working closely with his subject to create authentic subjective work, which promotes self-sustainability, social consciousness and responsibility.

“When I create an image it’s not with a detached eye but with the reasoning that I am part observer, explorer, creator and messenger, with an artist’s inspiration from nature’s expression of being.” - Nii Obodai

Obodai is experimental with film embracing light leaks, blurring and natural elements in his work. They are prints without the formulaic pretensions that a high resolution image may have. Instead the images are subtly blurry and captured in black and white, which also gives them a simplistic nostalgic quality. This is reflective of Obodai's attitude towards Ghana, this simplistic method presents an authentic way of capturing contemporary African life, images of immense poverty are replaced in Obodai’s work with vitality and youth. 

“I desire to engage the past, traveling the places that create memory and thus to see a way into the future. I explore the zones between tradition, improvisation and modernity, documenting a New Africa. In this landscape of wonder, with its unlikely adeptness, cultures merge, positive traditions remain in contemporary living, faces of the Diaspora return home and spiritual stories are told not to be forgotten." - Nii Obodai 

As expressed in the Whitworth's own 'We face forward’ exhibition catalogue, within this print ‘the children are of the beach as much as they are on the beach’, this suggests the children have an inherent quality. This sense of belonging is evident throughout the rest of the series ‘Who Knows Tomorrow’; the images have frequently been linked to Obodai's own being, and demonstrate that he retains strong roots in Ghana. This is evident in Obodai's biography; he was born in the capital Accra, and lived in England and Nigeria for much of his life. Despite this he has now returned to Ghana. His father was the first mayor of Accra when it gained independence from the UK in 1956, and had been a close associate of President Kwame Nkrumah, the first Ghanian President since independence. 

Obodai explores these political connections by making subtle references to the independence movement, for instance a five-pointed black star, which is symbolic as a statement of Ghanian independence. The title of the project also contains a subtle reference to Eric de Chassey's political treaty also titled 'Who knows tomorrow', which was a reflective documentation of Africa at the beginning of the 21st century. This is an investigative title which is ultimately left open ended and unanswered; it challenges conventional Western understanding of Africa, and establishes a positive ideological basis.

The Whitworth acquired this print in 2012 (along with several more from the series ‘Who knows tomorrow’), the same year as Obodai featured his work in the Whitworth’s exhibition ‘We face Forward: Art from West Africa Today'. Curated by Bryony Bond and Mary Griffiths, the title of the exhibition was taken from a welcoming speech made by the Ghanian president Kwame Nkrumah at a conference in 1960 on ‘Positive Action and Security in Africa’ where he stated, 'We face neither East nor West; we face forward.’ as an attempt to revive the spirit of Ghanian culture and inspire hope to the next generation. The Whitworth places this work in an international context here in the Portraits gallery, presenting Ghana globally as an authentically rich country, avoiding stereotypes and common misconceptions about what it is to be Ghanian.

 Rosy Whittemore (Visitor Team Assistant)

Photos by Jack Makin (Visitor Team Assistant)

 YOUR VIEWS

We love hearing from our visitors. Have you seen this work on display and want to share your views or send us a creative response?

Let us know on social media using the hashtag #workoftheweek

 FURTHER READING

Nii Obodai & Bruno Boudjelal (2010) Who Knows Tomorrow, Les Éditions Des L'Oeil.

Bryony Bond & Mary Griffiths (2012) We Face Forward: Art From West Africa Today, Cornerhouse Publications

Nii Obodai, Biography, Available at: [https://niiobodai.wordpress.com/about/]

Another Africa, part of the Guardian Africa Network (2012), Ghanaian photographer Nii Obodai - in pictures, The Guardian. Available at: [http://www.theguardian.com/world/gallery/2012/dec/04/ghana-photography-nii-obodai]

Stephen Baptist (2012) Nii Obodai: What Happened to Our Dream of Independence, Another Africa. Available at: [http://www.anotherafrica.net/art-culture/nii-obodai-what-happened-to-our-dream-of-independence]

Work #62

George Frederic Watts 

‘Love and Death’ (1887-88)

Made between 1877 and 1887, Love and Death was the first work acquired by the Whitworth Institute. Though there are many versions of Love and Death, the one held at the Whitworth can be regarded as the principal one. This version, although not the earliest, was the one Watts exhibited at the opening exhibition of the Grosvenor Gallery in 1887, where it caused a sensation. The Whitworth had tried to purchase the work from Watts before this date, led by Sir William Agnew, a prominent member of the Whitworth Committee. However, Watts had initially refused to sell it, which is a clear indication of how much he prized the work. However, on hearing the Whitworth's intentions to bring art and education to the people of Manchester, Watts, impressed, reconsidered and presented the picture as “a sign of being in fellowship with the movement you and your colleagues are instituting.”

The historic importance of Love and Death to the Whitworth may be the reason why, despite its monetary value, it was not sold off during the Gallery's financial troubles of the 1920s and 1930s. In 1997-8, the work's enduring significance ensured that it featured prominently in the Symbolism exhibition at the Tate Gallery in London, which then travelled to Munich and Hamburg. In 2000-1 it was also loaned to an exhibition about the artistic influences on the filmmaker Alfred Hitchcock, which was shown in Montreal and then travelled to Paris.

The subject was inspired by a portrait commission of the 8th Marquis of Lothian, and depicts Love as a winged youth with large crushed wings vainly trying to defend the House of Life, being brushed aside as the cloaked figure of Death enters a doorway. The roses around Death have begun to wither in response to her presence. Watts’ described this painting as ‘the progress of the inevitable but not terrible Death, who partially but not completely overshadows Love.’ The picture is not so much a memento mori as it is an image of consolation for an age continually faced with the presence of death in everyday life.

Born in London in 1817, George Frederic Watts was a popular English portraitist, sculptor and landscape painter of the Victorian period. A driving force behind the Symbolist movement, Watts became famous in his lifetime for his allegorical works such as Love and Life, and Time, Death and Judgement. He left behind a body of Symbolist work that addressed key issues of the time such as morality, mortality, poverty and Victorian loss of faith, among many other concerns. His commitment and ardent passion for art led to critics dubbing him ‘England’s Michelangelo’.

Like his contemporaries, John Ruskin and William Morris, Watts saw art as a means to social reform but was conscious of the fact that the Victorian public would not tolerate or appreciate works that reflected harsh truths about the society they lived in. However, understanding the Victorian public’s appetite for art and their preoccupation with symbolism and high emotion, Watts knew that the public would look at works that told the same truths through myth and symbol. Watts himself said, “I paint ideas, not things. My intention is less to paint works that are pleasing to the eye than to suggest great thoughts which will speak to the imagination and the heart and will arouse all that is noblest and best in man.”

His works acted as a looking-glass reflecting the intricate layers of Victorian life and the difficult position Victorian society found itself in; on one hand, the Victorians were on the cusp of the modern world, and on the other, they had a foot in the past. Watts astutely tapped into this sense of uncertainty and quiet hysteria and attempted to leave his mark on a society trying to forge a collective identity as well as living as a set of disparate individuals. In a note accompanying a group of drawings, also acquired by the Whitworth Institute, Watts wrote that, “the endeavour is to identity Art with the best in the conscience and action of the age…to give expression to the direction of modern thought upon the great problems that have reference to human spiritual and moral nature.”  

Tahmina Rahman (Visitor Team Assistant)

Photos by Jack Makin (Visitor Team Assistant)

YOUR VIEWS

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FURTHER READING

The Whitworth Art Gallery: The First Hundred Years (paperback edition, 1988)

Work #61

Otto Dix,

‘Portrait of Otto Freundlich’ (1923)

The lithograph by Otto Dix, which is currently on display in the Portraits, is a black and white print of Otto Freundlich made in 1923.

The term lithograph means literally ‘stone drawing’.  The process uses the smooth surface of a limestone slab or zinc plate.  It was developed at the end of the eighteenth century. The technique depends upon the antipathy of water and the greasy crayon or ink with which the design is drawn freely on to the stone or plate.  Alternatively, the design may be drawn onto a sheet of prepared transfer paper and then transferred to the stone.  The completed image is treated with nitric acid and gum arabic to set the image, dampened, and when an inked roller is passed across, the plate ink adheres only to the greasy image and not to the rest of the printing surface, being repelled by the moisture.  The impression was traditionally printed using a scraper press with a bar that scraped across the back of the paper laid face down on the stone or plate.  It is an effective way of making multiple images from the same design; the impression on display is one of an edition of one hundred and forty.

I often asked myself who was Otto Freundlich to find himself in the exhibition and who was the artist Otto Dix. In order to answer these questions, I need to give both the artist and the subject a biographical reading.

Otto Dix was born in Germany in 1891 and was both a painter and printmaker. He initially trained as a wall decorator but taught himself the techniques of easel painting. In 1910 he went to the Academy of Fine Art in Dresden where he studied painting. In 1914 Dix voluntarily signed up to fight in the First World War, experiencing military service on the Western front in the Battle of the Somme and on the Eastern front against the Russians. In December 1918 he was discharged from the army after being decorated with the Iron Cross. Dix continued his studies afterwards at Dresden Academy of Fine Art but was so greatly affected by the atrocities he had seen in battle that his art reflected those experiences. After returning to art school, Dix was tutored in printmaking by Conrad Felixmuller and most of his prints during this early period were black and white lithographs using the starkness of the black ink against the white of the paper.

Otto Dix’s artistic style changed with the development of new movements and politically aware artistic groups , and as such, Dix experimented with his art and exhibited at both the Expressionist exhibition of 1920 and the Dada Exhibition in Berlin in the same year. In 1919, following on from the success of the Berlin Secession group, Dix became a founding member of the Dresden Secession; the main aim of secession was to look for an alternative to the conservative state-run associations of artists. Alongside this Dix was active with another political group of artists, which took its name from the November Revolution of 1918 that resulted in the emergence of the Weimar Republic. The group was mainly a collective of Expressionist artists and architects linked by their shared socialist values and with the express wish to have a greater say in such issues as the organisation of art schools and laws around the arts. The November group members consisted of such luminaries as Hannah Hoch, Wassily Kandinsky, John Heartfield (Helmut Herzfeld) and Otto Freundlich.

During the 1920’s, Dix’s work was still political but he used images of nudity and sexuality along with violence to replace the images of war. In 1926 he was appointed to a professorship at the Dresden Academy. However, almost as soon as the Nazis came into power in 1933, he was sacked from his post on the grounds that his work was morally offensive. Dix’s work was removed from museums and galleries all over Germany and was confiscated by the Nazis, only to be shown in the Degenerate Art Show (Entartete Kunst), culminating in the infamous Munich show in 1937. The cover of the catalogue to accompany the exhibition was an illustration of a sculpture that had been manipulated and disfigured from the original work. That art work, The New Man, was made by Otto Freundlich.

Otto Freundlich, who was born in 1878, became a painter, sculptor, stained-glass designer and writer. Initially studying art history, he then studied sculpture in Berlin a few years later. In 1908 he moved to Paris and spent the next few years with Picasso and Braque in Montmartre, when they were experimenting with early Cubism. He split his time between Paris, Berlin and Cologne until 1914, exhibiting during this period in the Berlin Secession shows. After the First World War, Freundlich lived in Berlin and was instrumental in setting up the November group of which Dix was a member. Freundlich also wrote for a radical newspaper called Die Aktion (The Action). He would continue to write for political newspapers throughout his life. In 1919, he was responsible for organising the first Dada exhibition alongside Max Ernst and Johannes Theodor Baargeld.  Freundlich’s work started to evolve from early Cubist foundations and developed a Constructivist theme which impressed Walter Gropius enough that he tried to make him a teacher with the Bauhaus, but the appointment was opposed by the faculty.

In 1924 he moved to Paris and exhibited regularly at the Salon Des Independants and was active in the politics of art in Paris at the time, joining many political artist groups and setting up others such as Abstraction Creation, whose members included Ben Nicholson and Alfred Reth. During the 1930s, Freundlich exhibited widely in Europe, having shows in Holland, Switzerland and at Peggy Guggenheim’s Gallery in London. In 1939 he achieved some success in the Salon Réalités Nouvelles in Paris alongside Mondrian, Kandinsky and Kupka, However, in Germany his art was thought to be degenerate and alongside Dix was shown in the Degenerate Art show. Freundlich’s sculpture was chosen for the cover for the accompanying catalogue.

Otto Freundlich was a Jew by birth but knew little about the Jewish faith. When the war started in 1939, Freundlich was captured by the French and kept as an enemy alien but was released with the help of a group of artists including Picasso and fled to the Pyrenees in 1940. In March 1943 he was arrested again and sent to the Drancy concentration camp near Paris from where he was immediately sent to Lublin-Maidanek extermination camp in Poland and died the same day.

I’m sure you will agree that, reflecting on their biographies, both these artists more than deserve their place on display in Portraits

Dominic Bilton (Visitor Team Assistant)

Photos by Jack Makin (Visitor Team Assistant)

 YOUR VIEWS

We love hearing from our visitors. Have you seen this work on display and want to share your views or send us a creative response?

Let us know on social media using the hashtag #workoftheweek

 FURTHER READING

www.moma.org/collection_ge/artist.php?artist_id=1559

www.moma.org/collection_ge/artist.php?artist_id=1996