Grayson Perry: Who are you?

My map to 'Who are you?' that I clutched all the way round the exhibits

A friend and I visited the National Portrait Gallery yesterday to explore Grayson Perry's exhibition 'Who are you?' I've been pondering this question all day and the answer is 'I'm not sure'.

Fourteen exhibits have been artfully displayed within a number of galleries that contain artwork on permanent show. This was a collaborative project with Channel 4 and was shown on television before Christmas 2014 and, as the leaflet explains, they 'are not primarily concerned with what the subjects look like' they are concerned with identity.

The first item is a self-portrait of Grayson Perry but unlike most portraits you don't get any idea of what his appearance might be like. This is because it is an intricate, visual mind-map in four large etchings of his experiences, anxieties and relationships. I found it so interesting I could have spent my entire visit absorbed by this one piece alone.

This is where the leaflet came in very handy because it too was a map, of the gallery, and for me it turned into a comfort blanket so at least I knew where I was even if I didn't know who I was. And funnily enough piece number two is called 'Comfort Blanket'.  It is an enormous tapestry that wouldn't look out of place in a Tudor palace and was designed to be reminiscent of a bank note with the Queen prominently displayed on the right hand side.

As we trailed through the galleries we stopped to look at the permanent collection of portraits of the great and the good and these were very much concerned with how the subjects were portrayed. There are a number of portraits of Winston Churchill, who died 50 years ago, starting young but getting older and fatter but still recognisably the same person.

On we trailed visiting exhibit number three: Melanie, Georgina and Sarah looking glorious in their shiny glaze. I was particularly taken with 'The Ashford Hijab' (exhibit number six) but sadly I can't find a link to it to show you. I also enjoyed seeing the Suffragettes, a bust of Queen Mary and self portraits by the artist Henry Tonks who put fear into many an art student while he taught at the Slade School of Fine Art.

I was a bit stunned on entering room number 29 when I thought I was looking at a painting of Josef Stalin wearing a white uniform only to discover it was of Sir Frank Swettenham (1850-1946) by John Singer Sargent. I found the 'Memory Jar' (exhibit number eight) very poignant as it's concerned with the loss of memories as a result of dementia but I cheered up enormously when I ran into the portraits of the Brontë sisters by their brother Branwell which I have seen in reproduction but never in 'real life'.

I had trouble finding 'The Earl of Essex' (exhibit number 12) and my companion had to lead me to it so small was it and hidden in plain view in a cabinet. I was glad to see it and enjoyed its commentary on the quest for celebrity and instant fame. And the final piece is called 'The Deaf' and this was designed to look like a punk rock poster. It makes it clear that the deaf regard themselves as a distinct culture to be celebrated not a section of society suffering from a disability.

As someone who tends to stick to drawing and painting realistic scenes with the occasional foray into the abstract I'm impressed with the range of approaches Grayson Perry has employed in this exploration of what lies beneath the surface of appearances and the meaning of personal identity.

National Portrait Gallery: until 15 March 2015

Isabella Blow: Fashion galore

Somerset House is an atmospheric setting for an exhibition reviewing the 30 year career of Isabella Blow. I'm not generally interested in high fashion, I regard it much like Formula One racing — a rarefied field inhabited with people who might as well be from another planet.

I do find Isabella Blow intriguing though and I assumed that, because she was of noble lineage, she would also be filthy rich because how else could you maintain the eccentric lifestyle she appeared to enjoy without loads of cash. How wrong was I? Her Wikipedia page reveals that she had a series of odd jobs including working as a cleaner for two years in London and at a shop selling scones which made me warm to her having myself done similar work in the past.

This all changed when she moved to New York to study Ancient Chinese Art. Before long she was introduced to the to the fashion director of the US edition of Vogue, Anna Wintour and employed as her assistant which set her on her path to becoming a stylist and fashion editor in her own right.

Heaven knows what the daily life of a fashion assistant might be like. It makes me think of the film The Devil Wears Prada starring Meryl Streep set in the fashion world and said to be loosely based on a certain, very famous fashion magazine. Anyway Isabella obviously thrived in this culture eventually returning to London and establishing herself as a fashion director of Sunday Times Style and Tatler magazine.

This exhibition consists of more than 100 items from her own collection of clothes, hats and shoes. They include garments from fashion designers she launched like Alexander McQueen, Philip Treacy and Julien Macdonald. Isabella had a natural sense of style and an eye for future fashion trends. She discovered Alexander McQueen and bought his entire graduate collection for ₤5,000 paying it off in weekly ₤100 instalments receiving one garment a month in return. This must have been a risky investment but one which clearly paid dividends for both parties. Isabella also discovered models Sophie Dahl and Stella Tennant and collaborated with various photographers and became a legendary figure and patron on the international fashion scene.

The easiest way for me to appreciate these garments was to look at them as though they were sculptures made from fabric instead of items for wear and then they made sense. I loved Philip Treacy's hats most of all. Some of them resemble helmets made out of wonderful materials which almost completely obscure the face. Others are made from feathers and look as though they might take flight at any moment. One of them had a ship in full sail on top of it. In addition to the garments on display there are family photo albums from when she was a child. One of the films playing on continuous loop has her describing where her desire for beauty came from. She said something like: "We lived in a horrid pink house with a 1970s car port outside it and in the distance was this beautiful house we owned and couldn't afford to live in." There is also an excerpt from an interview with her in around 1996/7 where she exhibits a lively and vivacious side to her that was very attractive.

Towards the end of her life she suffered from severe depression attempting suicide more than once. Her influence in the fashion world was waning, she had had the sadness of infertility to contend with and her parents had divorced when she was young which must have left its mark on her and in addition she also had money worries. To top it all she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and she committed suicide in May 2007.

This was such a sad end to an extraordinary life which was clearly not an easy one. Isabella Blow was one of life's individuals and it's hard to imagine any other fashion director commanding the level of public attention or having the same influence on the international scene as she did.

Somerset House
20 November 2013 - 2 March 2014

In praise of patterns

A sample of fabric we have in our house which I really like

In the summer of 1979 I, along with 30 other students in the same year, was ready to graduate from art college having spent three years grappling with the problems posed by graphic design or Visual Communication as it was known at Bath Academy of Art. In order to pass our degrees we had to be interviewed by an external examiner. All I can remember about him was his first name was Ken (I think), he dressed in black and was a bit intimidating.

Last Saturday's Sudoku which I
solved for once

I'll be the first to admit that my efforts at design were hardly setting the place on fire and it's always possible that by the time Ken reached me he'd run out of things to say or was sick of talking to anxious students. Anyway, the only thing I can remember him saying to me in a rather disparaging tone was 'you work in patterns'. He was unimpressed to say the least and for years afterwards this phrase echoed around my mind as in 'you work in patterns therefore you can't be any good at design.'

So the years rolled by and I discovered, while working in magazine and newspaper design, that I loved solving visual problems. I thrived on looking for the visual patterns in a layout which aren't always obvious but when they work well enable the reader to understand more easily what the author is trying to convey.

I don't remember being given the chance to counter Ken's argument all those years ago but I will now I have 35 years experience to draw on.

Finding patterns and designing patterns has an honourable tradition. Textile design has employed patterns of varying complexity for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. I'm sure the code breakers working at Bletchley Park during WWII were seeking patterns in the codes in order to try and beat the Germans. In my small way I enjoy grappling with Sudoku puzzles and finding the patterns to solve them — quite often they defeat me. Since I can't help but look for patterns everywhere I'll continue to celebrate them by producing sketches like the one below which is full of them.

A wet Monday in Marseillan April 2013