Kennington Park: April 1991

Kennington Park, near where I lived in Brixton, South London

This post was originally published on my Drawing my way round London blog on 28 July 2011

I've been rummaging through my old sketch books and have found that quite a few of them have unused pages in them. So I have resolved to use these on new drawings before I buy any more books.

This is the first image in the sketch book I'm now planning to complete and here are the notes I made on the back of it when I got home:
View in Kennington Park, 26 April 1991. I had the choice of staying indoors and moping because I haven't got a job or going out in the sunshine to Kennington Park and drawing a picture. So that's what I did.

While I was drawing a young black guy stopped by, sat down and started to chat. We chatted and he watched me while I drew. From time to time I'd show him what I'd done. He'd compliment me. He told me that he lived in Brixton, not far from me. He worked at the post office from 6am - 2pm. He'd done this for three years and said initially it was difficult getting up for 6am.

At one time I showed him the drawing and said 'It doesn't look much like Kennington Park does it?' and he replied 'It's your view of the park, it's how you see it' and I found that very reassuring.'

It was nice to be reminded of that conversation and I would never have found it if I hadn't decided to fill the remaining pages up in this sketchbook.

The garden hose

I've decided to tidy up my Drawing my way round London blog so am copying some of the recent posts to Art on the Run. This was originally published on 17 July 2011.

It's been pouring with rain all day today so I made this sketch, using acrylic paint on paper, of our very wee garden. I left the french doors open and watched the rain bouncing off the roofs of the houses opposite and felt sorry for the festival goers just over the way in Victoria Park who'd paid good money to spend the weekend at the Lovebox festival.

I've signed up for the sketchbook 2012 project and it's been a few weeks since I did anything in my sketchbook so decided it was time to add another artistic effort. I have chosen the theme 'travel with me' and I am inviting the readers of my sketchbook to travel with me into a world of colour. I hope you enjoy it too.

History is now: 7 artists take on Britain

Cold war Britain set against our contemporary London skyline

We finally got around to visiting this exhibition only three weeks before it closes having talked about going for what seems for ever. The effort of getting there was well rewarded with a very thought provoking series of exhibits curated by seven contemporary artists who between them have cast their eyes (and ears) over the British cultural landscape from the Cold War until the present day.

History is now is on at the Hayward Gallery and has been staged during the run-up to the General Election on 7 May. Many of the pieces of artwork are responses to the politics of the time in which they were made and often make for disturbing viewing as memories are re-awakened and then re-examined. The seven artists are John Akomfrah, Simon Fujiwara, Roger Hiorns, Hannah Starkey, Richard Wentworth and Jane and Louise Wilson and I think they curated roughly a decade each.

The rocket above, on the sculpture terrace, was the only item we could photograph and I noticed in the accompanying notes that it was built between 1955-56 which was the same time I was in utero so you could say this exhibition covers my entire lifetime. On entering the exhibition you find yourself more-or-less in present day Britain and as you work your way through the galleries you travel back through the decades until you reach the 1950s.

I found I had conflicting feelings towards many of the items that I looked at during this visit. For example I found the rocket, which is a piece of military hardware and a weapon of destruction, oddly positioned on a sculpture terrace. I imagined visitors at the Private View politely circling it with glasses of champagne in their hands.

Earlier on in the exhibition I was intrigued by the costume designed by Consolata Boyle for Meryl Streep in The Iron Lady, 2011. The Iron Lady in question was our Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher. As I looked into the case containing this outfit I was reminded of the time I visited Grantham Museum after the 'great' lady had died and gazed in a similar way at her Prime Ministerial blue, silk suit that was displayed on a mannequin. I noted that she was rather taller than me and bulkier too but she was well proportioned so it didn't show and the silk was a beautiful blue. I remember being surprised that I could admire anything about Mrs Thatcher since I could never be described as supporter of the Conservative party or her values in particular.

Elsewhere in another gallery I was again taken back in time to 1982 when I looked at the photos of women protesting at Greenham Common against the government's decision to allow American cruise missiles to be based there. I remembered going there on a day trip by coach, at the behest of one of my colleagues, to join in the Embrace the base event where 30,000 women joined hands around the base, sang songs and lit candles. At the end of the day I went back to my life in London and some of the women resolutely stayed on in the camp continuing their protest.

And finally, I took in the galleries devoted to the BSE epidemic also known as Mad Cow Disease (1989-1990) and the Foot and Mouth outbreak in 2001 which caused a serious crisis in tourism and agriculture. We began with examples of scrapie in sheep which is a fatal, degenerative disease of the central nervous system and is caused by a prion and related to BSE. There is film footage of a young Damien Hurst talking about his fascination with animals which began with visits to the Natural History Museum and a couple of exhibits of his work which make me feel squeamish. At this point in the proceedings I thought I would be very lucky indeed to avoid developing some ghastly disease and consoled myself with thoughts of coffee and cake.

If you'd like to put yourself through an emotional wringer and see how Britain has changed over the years the exhibition runs until Sunday 26 April 2015.

Still life drawing at the Estorick

The outside gate to the Estorick on Canonbury Road

Yesterday found me at a still life workshop at the Estorick Collection of modern Italian art. I love looking at still life painting and occasionally try doing some but I don't really feel that I know what I am doing so I hoped this workshop would shed some light on its mysteries.

This workshop, which was the first of two free workshops, was organised by the Stuart Low Trust in partnership with the Estorick. There is no charge and anyone can join in. The Stuart Low Trust (SLT) is a health promotion charity based in Islington, north London. There were about 14 of us all told: some people were clearly old friends and others were there for the first time. The Stuart Low Trust regularly run all sorts of social events from gardening to days out and a philosophy forum.

Before we put pencil to paper we were treated to a tour of the current exhibition of Renato Guttuso: Painter of Modern Life. He lived from 1911-1987 and is one of Italy's most widely respected modern painters and I have to admit in my ignorance this was the first time I had ever heard of him. We were told that during Mussolini's rule, which lasted for more than 20 years, artists were very constrained in what they were allowed to depict.

Guttuso, who was Sicilian, railed against these constraints and chose instead to chronicle the deprivations of the ordinary Italian citizen in paintings full of symbolism that if you take the time to read carefully are very revealing. We spent some time studying one painting with an upturned and empty bird cage, a candle holder with no candle, a light bulb that wasn't on, a wicker basket with no food in it and an animal skull. This all implied austerity that had been endured for a long time.

Now it was our turn to assemble a still life and I ended up in a small group who worked from the same set of objects and, hey presto, it included an animal skull. I present here one of my initial drawings in graphite where we 'took a line for a walk'. Now I've worked on this I hope I will have the courage to complete an unfinished still life of a rose and some fruit on a plate.

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

From the Forest to the Sea: Emily Carr in British Columbia

I expect that most artists be they musicians, actors, dancers, performance poets or visual artists like myself experience periods of self doubt and feelings of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, being unproductive and just plain down in the dumps. I've certainly being feeling just like this recently and briefly cheered up enormously on discovering that Emily Carr felt just the same for lengthy periods!

Emily Carr is one of Canada's best loved artists but she was unknown outside north America, until now, because there is currently a major exhibition of her work on display at Dulwich Picture Gallery. She was born in 1871 in Victoria, Vancouver Island to well-to-do English parents. Whereas most artists I know benefit from around four years training or six if you do a Master's degree, Emily was able to spend three years studying art in San Francisco followed by five years in the UK, firstly at the Westminster School of Art and then in St Ives. She then succumbed to a mysterious illness which was diagnosed as 'hysteria'. According to Wikipedia hysteria described 'unmanageable emotional excesses' but we can only guess how Emily's illness manifested itself. This in turn led her to being admitted to a sanatorium in East Anglia for 18 months so by the time she was 30 she'd led a pretty adventurous life.

In 1907 she took a trip with her sister Alice up the west coast of British Columbia to Alaska. This was a pivotal moment in her art career because this was when she first encountered the totems and villages of indigenous peoples (today known as First Nations) and she decided she would make it her business to record their lives and artefacts in situ as she believed that their culture was doomed to disappear. To this end she endured rigorous journeys and battled with the elements so she could visit and record deserted villages she found along the way.

Then in around 1910 she felt she needed to develop her artistic skills even further so she set off for Paris where she encountered and learned from les Fauves (French for 'the wild beasts') and post-impressionist painters. With all this knowledge under her belt she exhibited, in 1913, dozens of views of First Nations' villages in her new post-impressionist style which went down like a lead balloon and she failed to attract buyers.

At this point, feeling discouraged, she pretty much quit painting and became a landlady. This is when my heart went out to her - what a state of affairs after all that work. Fourteen years later she got to know Lawren Harris a prominent member of the Group of Seven artists who encouraged Emily and she began exploring her native landscape with its rainforests and magnificent trees. You can see many of these vibrant, lively paintings of trees in this exhibition and I defy you not to feel enlivened by the time you reach the end. I would love to have illustrated this post with an example of her work but I don't want to contravene copyright so I offer you one of my own since Emily and I have a love of trees in common.

The exhibition is on until 8 March 2015

Vermezo Park, Buda ©Heather James 2014

Forty Hall & Estate, Enfield

Clare Twomey 'Everyman's Dream' in the Great Hall

Yesterday afternoon I was sitting in a small room on the first floor of Forty Hall listening to Sir Nicholas Rainton, Lord Mayor of London, explain why he had chosen Enfield in particular to build his house. He explained that as a Puritan he would be surrounded by like-minded people and that it was as far out of London as you could ride without having to change horse.

I obviously wasn't eavesdropping on a real conversation, since Sir Nicholas Rainton died in 1646, but instead I was enjoying listening to a recording made by actors designed to bring the house and grounds to life. Forty Hall is Grade 1 listed and 'is a fine architectural example of the change in style from medieval to modern.' The house and estate are now owned by Enfield Council which must be quite a responsibility since in the past it has been owned and occupied by a number of influential families.

The people who care for this impressive pile appear to have successfully navigated the tricky task of preserving its many layers of history while allowing it to live in the present. The tour around the house is easy to follow but there are surprises which greet you en route. If my mobile phone had been smart enough I could have listened in to servants as they went about their duties which would have been fun. You are encouraged to pick things up and open closed doors. One of these eventually leads you to Sir Nicholas' bedchamber which is surprisingly austere and there you can learn about the bequests he made in his Will.

Clare Twomey 'Everyman's Dream'

Within this setting there is currently an exhibition called Legacy: Two works about Hope and Memory. It is to commemorate the centenary of the outbreak of World War I and while it isn't specifically about war it is about 'personal loss, legacy, testimony and commemoration'. Clare Twomey's Everman's Dream is on display on the ground floor in the Great Hall and in the Parlour. Clare Twomey works in ceramics and her installation consists of many identical bowls and on inside each one is a simple line of text in gold leaf of how an individual would like to be remembered. An air of peace and quiet permeates the house and this is especially noticeable where Clare Twomey's work is on display and it is this silence that allows you to hear the hopes of all these people who are present in these bowls.

Upstairs on the first floor is Julian Stair's Reliquary for a Common Man. Julian Stair made a recording of a relative of his who, I think, was his great-uncle who reminisced about his youth and how he was drawn to either Communism or Socialism. You could listen to this gentleman talking while watching old colour cine footage of him as a younger man relaxing on holiday and then turn around and see still photos of him through his life. Julian Stair is also a potter and had made a container that included some of his relatives ashes in the fabric of the pot as well as containing the ashes which I found a bit disturbing (assuming I understood the work correctly).

From this floor you can look out on the lawn and you can see inscribed into the turf the words in large letters LEST WE FORGET which I imagine is another reference to World War I and the view takes you to an avenue of trees that leads the eye to the site of Henry VIII's Elsyng Palace, but that is another story.

The exhibition is on until Sunday 2 November.