Posts from the ‘Art’ Category

Jul 9

The Daily Sketch ITALIA – Norms in Venice

The Daily Norm’s Italian season has officially kicked off, and as such is just another of the infamous PIIGS (Portugal, Ireland, Italy, Greece and Spain – the woe of the EU) which is getting the whole-hearted support of my blog. And of course, where The Daily Norm goes, so too must the Norms themselves, and this week you can join these little white blobs as they traverse the boot of Italia itself, bouncing from one destination to another, making their own “Grand Tour” through the country’s most famous sights.

It may make sense to go from South up to the North in the hope that as the summer months heat up, the Norms can catch the cooler breezes of Northern Italy as the days of July tick along. But Norms don’t really think logically, and as they don’t have feet, let alone legs, they can hardly be counted upon to understand the best way to navigate Europe’s most famous boot. The Norms therefore have started off in the North of Italy, and where best to commence their tourist trail, than in La Serenissima herself, undoubted Queen of the Adriatic, Venezia.

We join the Norms as they sample, as every well-moneyed tourist should do (I note at this point that I have never been able to afford the great privilege of a gondola ride, although I have used the vaporetto, the London bus equivalent of the stretch limousine), the glory of the Grand Canal by gondola, floating gently along this main watery artery of Venice, under the city’s most famous bridge, the Rialto. Need I say more? Welcome to Venice…

Norms in Venice (2012 © Nicholas de Lacy-Brown, pen and ink on paper)

© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm, 2001-2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

The Daily Sketch: Norms on the Underground (normsonline.wordpress.com)
The Daily Sketch: Norms at the Damien Hirst Exhibition (normsonline.wordpress.com)

Jul 8

10 Comments

Sunday Supplement ITALIA – Tuscany Wharf: 15km to San Gimignano

It’s ITALIA Season on the Daily Norm, celebrating, for at least two weeks, everything that’s fantastic about Italy. And to kick of the season, here on the Sunday Supplement, the weekly showcase of my art, I am featuring my 2010 painting, Tuscany Wharf: 15 km to San Gimignano.

I was inspired to paint the scene when my Partner’s family and I were driving through the incredibly beautiful green and golden rolling hills of the Tuscan countryside. The journey, from Donoratico down on the coast up through the hills, past Volterra and on to San Gimignano involved so many curves and bends and meanders through the Tuscan countryside that when we reached a road sign advising us that after around 90 minutes of said meandering, we were finally within 15 km reach of our final destination, my Partner, whose face was very green by that point, breathed a huge sigh of relief, or as much of a sigh as could be mustered after a double dose of very soporific travel sickness tablets.

As we approached San Gimignano, a UNESCO world-heritage protected town, famous for its collection of medieval towers which grew taller with each new construction as rich merchant families sought to compete with one another, the view was better than ever. Approaching the town from some distance, seeing the iconic towers gradually emerging from behind the brow of a set of undulating hills, was quite a sight, and one which I have attempted to capture in my painting, which celebrates all the beauty of the Tuscan countryside from rows of perfectly lined up vineyards and golden fields with rolled up hay, to the curly-wurly road itself, rising and falling over and around the crests of hills, lined by cypress trees and Italian pines.

However what makes this representation of Tuscany different is that sliced through one part of the landscape is a vertical insight into another world. It’s industrial Northern England, a scene with such industrialised toxicity that the smoke bellowing out from the factory chimneys pour into the Tuscan scene, filling turquoise skies with a decided collection of clouds. The English scene, which was inspired by the works of L. S. Lowry, was inserted by way of marked contrast to the beauty of the Tuscan scenery. However both scenes appear to be in sync, as if they represent the same geography in a parallel universe. Where the tuscan hills roll upwards, the english scene follows the same trajectory, with a row of cramped terraced houses following the same incline of the Tuscan hill. Where in tuscany there is a round bail of hay, in the English scene, the bail of hay is replaced with a cylindrical oil container. Similarly the roses, planted next to a vineyard so the grape grower can detect disease early, is replaced by the barbed wire keeping trespassers off the industrial site. Thus it is that the two landscapes appear inescapably conflicting, and yet coexisting in perfect union.

Tuscany Wharf (15km to San Gimignano) (oil on canvas, 2010 © Nicholas de Lacy-Brown)

San Gimignano,Tuscany (leggotunglei808.wordpress.com)

Jun 28

6 Comments

Celebrating all things radiant in RED – a photographic homage to Louboutin

It was only yesterday that I was extolling the virtues of all things red. That vibrant, rich colour, instantly attractive to the human eye, seducer of souls, seller of sex, and now the renowned glossy seller of stilettos in the form of Louboutin’s red-soled masterpieces. And it is in homage to that said innovative shoe-maker-to-the-chic that I have taken inspiration from the rosiest, most ravishing reds I could find, scanning through my photos and picking out some of my favourite photos which all have that rich, vibrant colour in common. Welcome to my world of Red…

: My painting of Segovia, in Spain (oil on canvas, 2010)

: The emblematic London telephone box

: That’s my mummy!

: Red bar in Madrid

: Coca-cola has made red its own – café in Toledo

: Candles in Barcelona Cathedral

: Complex stamen of the Hibiscus

: Blood red cala lily

: Gates of the bull ring – Granda, Spain

: Juicy strawberries aplenty, at the Mercado San Miguel in Madrid

: Autumn leaves – Richmond (London)

: Sun-dappled hibiscus

: Red, red rose

: Chairs (looking like red blood cells) in the Fundacio Juan MIro in Mallorca

: Paris’ chic art nouveau Metro

: A beef tomato

: Red roses, the epitome of romance

: Red stained glass, in Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia, Barcelona

: Pillar box and a phone box – red, the colour of London

: Plenty of red (and a bit of blue) – Plaza Mayor, Madrid

: Poppy

: Pharmacy sign in Volterra, Italy

: An abundance of tomatoes, Borough Market, London

: Marbella’s Almeda park fountain

: Mini pavlovas and my ceramic Las Meninas souvenir

: Vibrant geraniums

: More geraniums

: The red lights of Amsterdam

: Big red boat in the Albert Docks, Liverpool

: That perfect red rose

: Autumn berries in Richmond

: Just in case… fire bucket in the Port Vell, Barcelona

: Victorian post box, Wandsworth

: And again

: Seeing in the New Year with a burst of red

: Red autumn leaves, Richmond

: Red cocktail, with a zingy lime twirl

: Red walls on the Passeig del Born, Mallorca

: Cherries aplenty at the Mercado San Miguel in Madrid

It’s all in the Sole: Christian Louboutin celebrates 25 years at London’s Design Museum (normsonline.wordpress.com)

Jun 27

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It’s all in the Sole: Christian Louboutin celebrates 25 years at London’s Design Museum

Glossy red lips, emblematic red telephone boxes, and the sumptuous vivid spiraling red of a voluptuous red rose. There is something about red which strikes a devilishly powerful impact. In fact scientists declare that red is the colour most instantaneously attractive to the human eye: and it’s true. Look around a room, survey the rainbow of colours and shades all around you, and the first colour you notice will always be red. No wonder then that throughout the ages, it’s the scarlet woman, the red lights of shady backstreets and the unctuous red-painted lips of Hollywood prima donnas that have become so indubitably emblematic of seduction, attraction and the height of munificent glamour.

No wonder then that when one, previously unknown French Cameroonian son of an ébéniste (ivory wood carver) turned shoe-maker decided to place a seamlessly lacquered vivid red sole on the bottom of his women’s shoes, he became an instant hit. When you see a woman in high polished black stilettos sauntering down the street, and as her shoes lift with each step, you see a hint of glossy red, you know that the woman has taste – instantly glamourous, emblematic of sexy chic and seductive sophistication, that red sole can only mean one thing, and have only one maker – it’s a work of art, and it’s made by Christian Louboutin.

Fetish shoes

Yes, Louboutin, iconic French designer and the man who made red soles his signature, is now celebrating an illustrious 20 years of shoe design, during which time he seized the shoe, and in particular the daringly high stiletto, and lifted it into a new ascendancy of design significance, when, through darlingly innovative designs, and unhindered imaginative genius, he made the shoe the star of the show, as well as the means to make a woman’s legs, and figure, beautiful. Such is the theatricality of his designs, that it comes as no surprise that in celebrating 20 years of iconic shoe design, London’s Design Museum on the South Bank has put on the show of all shows, like a retreat into the cabaret of 1900s Paris at the Moulin Rouge, as a vast illuminated stage, a playground carrousel, and a garden of delights play host to shoes and only shoes, singled out and exhibited in all their fantastically original glory.

The Dita Von Teese hologram

The exhibition exudes the playfulness of Louboutin. At its centre is a wonderfully raunchy Hologram video of the deliciously sexy Dita Von Teese, herself spectacularly bedazzled in a pair of sparkling diamond-encrusted Louboutin’s, demonstrating just how seductive a woman in these shoes can become. Meanwhile at the back of the show is a den of iniquity, a naughty display of fetish shoes designed to push a woman to the maximum of pain and pleasure and panda to every man (or woman’s) every sexual desire when shoes are their ultimate proclivity. I loved the little garden, when crazy platformed shoes were displayed like fantasy creatures in Alice’s wonderland, and the recreated studio of Louboutin himself, where a vast array of objects, instruments and other paraphernalia provide daily inspirations for his ingenious creations.

But amongst all of this showmanship, let us not forget that the stars of the show are the shoes – and there were so many beautiful designs it’s hard to choose from amongst them. But being something of a magpie, I was instantly attracted to all those which sparkled, while the delicate sophistication of shoes and boots covered in lace held a particular attraction. But amongst all of these design gems, from hugely built-up platform boots, with corset-style laces crisscrossing up to the thigh, to sleek yellow open-toed stilettos bursting with tropical flowers, perhaps one of my favourites was the most understated of all, the simple, sleep shiny black stiletto, albeit with that trademark red sole and a frighteningly high 5 inch heel.

The shoes amazed, the red soles seduced, and the diamonds and studs aplenty dazzled, yet when I left the exhibition, I still came out wondering why and how Louboutin had hit upon the red sole that has become his signature. How did he stumble upon it? What was his inspiration? All of this goes unexplained in the history of Louboutin’s 20 year retrospective, and at £125 a pop, I wasn’t about to put my hands in my pocket and pay for the vast (and admittedly very beautiful) exhibition catalogue to find out. Besides, I was too busy trying to escape from the unnecessarily copious groups of “girly” women, giggling all over the place and drooling over shoes they could barely ever afford, enjoying themselves far too much and occasionally yelping as though on a hen night. This is art darlings, take your window-shopping to Aldo.

So why is Louboutin worthy of my praise? I am after all a man. I’ve never worn a stiletto, let alone owned one, and, unless I undergo some kind of hither unanticipated breakdown in my life, never intend to. Well the answer is simple – it’s because Louboutin has suspended his shoes into a design ascendancy which goes way beyond dress choice. These shoes are art, pure and simple, and best seen encircled by a spot light, up on a little stage or under a glass cloche where they belong, preferably sans foot, sans sweat and definitely sans ground surface to scratch that perfect lacquered red sole.

Christian Louboutin is on at the Design Museum, Shad Thames, London until 9 July.

Shoes With A Red Sole (beautifulcurious.wordpress.com)
Sound the shoe horn: Christian Louboutin and Dita Von Teese have launched these ‘ooh-shoes’ (mirror.co.uk)
Christian Louboutin retrospective breaks records (fashion.telegraph.co.uk)
Christian Louboutin Doesn’t Care If Your Feet Hurt (newsfeed.time.com)

Jun 25

2 Comments

Summer Exhibition at the RA: How a private view can make the mediocre marvellous

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: When the viewing conditions are right, even the most mediocre of art can appear wonderful. When your mood is carefully massaged by fortuitous circumstances, your mind will be opened, and you’ll look for the positives in everything. Look what happened a few months back with the huge David Hockney exhibition at London’s Royal Academy: On my first visit, the gallery was so packed I came out spitting blood (almost literally as the hustle in the giftshop between usually restrained “Friends” of the RA to grab as much Hockney merchandise as possible almost ended up in fisticuffs). What was all the fuss about Hockney? He can’t even paint, I thought, bitterly. However, when I went back a few weeks later at the behest of my partner, first thing in the morning, tactically skipping the first couple of rooms and emerging, victoriously from the crowds into an empty exhibition beyond, I began to see what all the fuss was about. The paintings were so atmospheric, airy, colourful, pleasing. It was all about the viewing conditions.

The central Matisse-red gallery complete with sculpture by Leonard McComb RA

The same, now, can be said for my experience of the Royal Academy’s most famous annual offering, the Summer Exhibition, which I attended, with my mother, last night. So used to the unseemly crush of packed-in spectators, all vying for space in the Small Weston Room to see the small paintings squeezed unapologetically onto the wall from floor to ceiling, I would always leave the Summer Exhibition feeling resentful. Why had I just spent good money to go along and see a load of same-old mediocre paintings, small canvases of flowers and ovens and animals, not to mention Tracey Emin’s hideous, crass doodles and the repetitive works of the closed-club Royal Academicians? But not this year. Yes, the same old Royal Academicians still dominate, and yes, the ridiculously crap works of Tracey Emin, now named “Prof. Tracey Emin RA” after her recent ascendancy to the role of RA Professor of Drawing (what a joke) are still conspicuous by their unashamed lack of skill (and because of the hundreds of “sold” dots stuck to the frame because people seem to think scrawled depictions of half-vaginas are valuable), but the difference this year was that I attended on a private view. There were literally 80 of us in the entire venue, and those rooms are big. Once the small gathering had dispersed around the place, we frequently found ourselves quite alone in the huge Royal Academy galleries.

The “wave” hanging of small paintings

It was wonderful! Feeling so airy, ephemeral, and almost important, we glided around the galleries in such a good mood that we actually started to point out details of all the paintings, noticing the colours and the skill involved, complementing, and sometimes even tempted to buy and generally loving the whole affair. We were also treated to a talk by the charming Harry Baxter (an “artist educator” at the RA) whose insight into the exhibition made the whole thing instantly accessible and immediately unpretentious. This year’s show, the 244th in the RA’s history was, he explained, a homage to the small and the beautiful, an intentional contrast to the Hockney “Bigger Picture” exhibition where crowds had crammed into the galleries to see vast paintings made up from multiple small canvases. The focus on “small” can only be a good thing – it meant that rather than squeeze into the tiny rooms with hundreds of others to see all the small works, this year the huge central galleries were given over to countless small paintings (some 1,500 in all) which were hung around the walls like a wave of moving art. It wasn’t quite a Salon floor-to-ceiling hang, but it was an all-embracing journey from one artist’s expression to another’s.

So amidst all this good feeling, what were my favourite works? Top of the list has to be Buffalo Grill by Scottish artist Jock McFadyen, not least because I used to eat in one such of the French chain restaurant bang opposite the Moulin Rouge in Paris. This huge green canvas, with an off-centre, almost hazy image of the American-looking chain restaurant made for quite an impact in a gallery in which it easily dominated. It’s almost like the blur of the restaurant viewed from a fast-moving car, and yet the top of the restaurant is crisp and clear, like an after-image of the place stamped onto your retina.

Buffalo Grill (2004) © Jock McFadyen

Top of my list of sculptures, meanwhile, was the super-shiny bronze creation by Leonard McComb RA, Portrait of a Young Man Standing. Only a shame that it has the very modest price tag of £600,000. Against a red painted central gallery (apparently painted as such in homage to Matisse) and reflecting in its polished surface the paintings hung all around it, the sculpture looked truly remarkable. Second place for sculpture had to be given to Professor David Mach RA, whose cheetah made from coathangers, Spike, is an incredible feat of innovation (as was the brilliant recreation of the head of Michelangelo’s David built from the heads of matches, also by David Mach).

Top half of Leonard McComb’s Portrait of a Young Man Standing

David Mach RA, Spike

The architecture gallery was pretty interesting this year, bordering more on the surreal, not least with CJ Lim’s Dream Isle: London, the Victorian Sponge Cake which was a model imagining just that – a city shaped like a sponge cake! Also amongst the architecture were the predictable inclusions of Olympic stadiums and other Olympic buildings, as well as the new King’s Cross station concourse.

C J Lim, Dream Isle: London, the Victorian Sponge Cake

I also loved this by Graham Crowley…

Red Drift No. 3, © Graham Crowley

And this by one of my favourite Royal Academicians, Stephen Chambers RA

Stephen Chambers RA, I Know Trouble (And She’s My Friend)

While this, by Tracey Emin, appalled me…

Upset, by “Prof” Tracey Emin RA

I could go on, and there is of course plenty to look at, and to mention, but hopefully the photos I have included in this post will provide a hint of the wonders on show (except of course for Tracey Emin’s “Upset” which is included purely for the purposes of demonstrating how a totally talentless media novelty can rob some poor talented unknown of a huge amount of wall-space and all the opportunities that go with it).

The Royal Academy don’t always get it right, but with this year’s Summer Exhibition, they really seem to be progressing. Perhaps it’s because of the new president, Christopher Le Brun, or maybe it’s just because of the space all around me, the exclusivity and of course the complementary wine… It’s a question which remains as yet untested, but if you want to have a punt, go and visit the show – as the name suggests, it’s on all summer, and you can find out all of the details here.

Royal Academy’s Summer Exhibition finds a new focus (theweek.co.uk)
Summer Exhibition, Royal Academy – review (thisislondon.co.uk)
Summer Exhibition 2012, Royal Academy of Arts, review (telegraph.co.uk)

Jun 24

3 Comments

BP Portrait Prize – Hyper-photorealism is all very well, but I want to see the Artist’s soul on the canvas

As something of a postscript to my post on Friday about the Queen’s Portrait exhibition is a short note about another exhibition currently showing at the National Portrait Gallery, the BP Portrait Prize (It’s clever marketing that requires an exhibition’s integral name to be precursored by the name of an international petrol conglomerate, although I’m not too sure how happy I am having to represent said marketing on my own blog just by nature of naming the exhibition). Anyway, I digress. The exhibition, which is now in its thirty-thid year, features some 55 works selected from an open submission of 2,187 international entrants. The sole requirement of entry is that the work is a portrait, painted in the last year.

The height of photorealism – Lindsay Lohan © Ben Ashton (2012)

This year, like most years before it, the Judges of the Prize seem to have been unashamedly seduced by the skills of artists painting photorealistically, rather than with soul. It’s now as predicable an aspect of this show as the British summer is full of rain that when you wander into the exhibition, you double-take, wondering whether you have strolled into a photography exhibition rather than a painting one. The artist paints so fantastically well, and plies his craft with such faultless skill, that one cannot see a single brush stroke and one would swear blind, even upon being 10 centimetres distance from the canvas, that this is a photo before you. This is all very well – there is no denying the skill, and absolute kudos needs to be given to these artists for executing the works with such sophistication – but the problem for me is that, if I wanted to see an exhibition of photos, I would be elsewhere. It is also, to my mind, the inherent problem of the annual offerings of the BP Portrait Prize, and what, for me, makes it all a bit boring.

These paintings do not look like paintings, and as such they do not strike me as bursting with the emotional impact that a very paint-plastered canvas exudes. In the manic multitude of Van Gogh’s plentiful brush strokes, you can identify with the bursts of energy expressed by the artist when he went about executing the work, while in the fragmented, abstracted portraits of Picasso, you can identify with an artist bursting with innovation, with a rebellious streak who wants to give more, to change art as we know it, to pioneer new forms of expression.

Swallow, © Alexandra Gardner 2012

By contrast when you look at the works hung in the BP Portrait prize, first you need to challenge your preconception that the work is actually a photograph, and then you spend your time staring at the work wondering how it is painted. But all of this emphasis somewhat takes away from the story of the sitter. The emotion is somehow lost in the perfection. When you can see no sign of an artist’s presence on the canvas, it becomes craftsmanship, and not art. It loses it’s soul. I compare these works to an exquisitely well crafted table – I would glance at the work and admire the virtuosity of the craftsman, but I would not attempt, nor be able to engage with the work in the same way as I can when an artist’s soul is poured onto a canvas.

The Dialects of Silence (Portrait of Michael Longley) © Colin Davidson 2012

There were some exceptions in this year’s show, and it is therefore unsurprising that these were my standout favourites. In Colin Davidson’s The Dialects of Silence (Portrait of Michael Longley), there is a superbly executed focus on his sitter’s melancholy eyes, which are practically photographic, but then as the work spans outwards, it becomes more and more fragmented, as swathes of paint are hastily applied to the canvas, but with no less effect. This work demonstrates both the soul of the sitter, and the passion of the artist, and that is why, for me, it works incredibly well as a portrait worthy of artistic merit. I also liked Alexandra Gardner’s Swallow which had something of the Gauguin about it. Yes it’s just a portrait, but the insertion of the striking yellow wall paper and the presence of a swallow around the sitter’s neck makes you interact with the work, wondering about the significance of the swallow, and no doubt captivated by the use of bold colour, and realism contrasting with the two dimensional black outline which circumnavigates the figure.

Mr Kitazawa’s Noodle Bar, Tokyo
© Carl Randall

However my favourite work of the show was undoubtedly this one, Carl Randall’s Mr Kitazawa’s Noodle Bar, Tokyo. This “group portrait” is startlingly original for a number of reasons: the viewpoint from above, its composition: customers on the right, servers on the left, the slice of city life seen through the window, and the exclusive use of black, white and shades of grey. I love the apathetic, indifferent stares of the customers, minding their own business, indulging in quick dinner in a hostile urban environment, thinking no doubt about work and the pressures around them. On the left we are met with the equally impassive stares of the workers, tired after cooking all day and bored of the relentless monotony of their work. But in the middle of this we have this almost embrace, the only human contact in the whole work, when the worker gives a bowl of food to a customer, or the other way round – because they both hold the bowl with two hands, it is akin to a loving embrace, a fusion of worker and customer, and composition-wise it provides the work with a horizontal variance to otherwise brash vertical lines. Brilliant.

Is that a photo?: Silent Eyes © Antonios Titakis (2012)

If the BP Portrait Prize included more works like this every year, it would be a startlingly interesting show. But as ever with exhibitions judged and chosen by a group of outdated art professionals and even a representative from BP (who clearly knows so much about art) we will continue to be shunned by a group of high-gloss works which, like any photo, reflect the viewer and push him away, rather than a show of works which, because an artist has bared his soul or painted a scene of such dynamic composition and interest, the viewer is captivated and invited in. For me, it’s this relationship between artist and viewer which is not just integral to the power and purpose of art, but central to the very definition of what “art” really is, whether it be triggered by a portrait, a landscape or an abstract clutter. Remove the soul of the artist, and the painting becomes just one more image to add to the ever changing visual landscape of the fast-moving world around us. A fleeting encounter, without a lasting impact.

Mature nude wins BP Portrait Award 2012 (independent.co.uk)
Photorealism to the max! (ameliawilsonblog.wordpress.com)

Jun 22

1 Comment

The Queen: Art and Image – at the National Portrait Gallery

You can’t blame the National Portrait Gallery for cashing in on HRH Queen Elizabeth this year. Since her Diamond Jubilee celebrations at the beginning of this month, the popularity of the Queen has been at an all time high – in fact over 90% of those recently polled stated that they were satisfied with the Queen, figures which represent the significant surge of support which is now felt for the Royals in England. In the meantime, tourist numbers lingering outside Buckingham Palace, visiting Windsor Castle, and pouring into souvenir shops all over London have soared . So adding an exhibition of portraits of the Queen into the mix seems like an obvious choice, not least because, having been the subject of at least one official portrait in every of her reign, as well as the subject of numerous photographs and unofficial tributes, there are so many portraits to choose from!

Queen Elizabeth II (Cecil Beaton, 2 June 1953)

I therefore went along to the NPG’s exhibition, The Queen: Art & Image today expecting 60 official portraits lined up, each recognising a gradual change in the Queen’s image, from glamourous young Queen in her 20s, to the Nation’s favourite grandmother. However to my surprise, the exhibition was a little light on the official portraits. In fact it was a little light on paintings altogether, instead concentrating on the Queen’s image, as masterminded by officials, and seen through the lens of the paparazzi, captured on camera. That is not to say that the exhibition was not historically narrative and collectively interesting.

Queen Elizabeth II (LIghtness of Being) © Chris Levine (2007)

Queen Elizabeth II (Equanimity) (© Chris Levine, 2007)

The show begins and ends with the masterful 3D works of Chris Levine, Lightness of Being and Equanimity. These have to be amongst my favourite portraits of the Queen. The way they are mastered – a print on a lightbox, multilayered so that the Queen’s posture changes as you move around the work, is startlingly realistic. It has never been so possible to feel as though you are meeting the Queen, when in reality such an opportunity is stored away in a box of other pipe dreams such as the big retirement mansion and everlasting fame. Every wrinkle is there to see, but unlike the horrendous portrait by Lucian Freud, also included in the show, the portrait is truthful and yet still utterly glamorous, not least Lightness of Being which captures the Queen, eyes briefly closed, in white ermine, white pearls, and her glittering crown. Even her hair glimmers with a silver sheen rather than dull grey.

Queen Elizabeth II (Dorothy Wilding, 1952)

From this impressive start, the exhibition heads back to the 1950s and thus begins a chronological exploration of the Queen’s changing image and public portrayal. I suppose thinking about it, a load of official portraits would have always been a little contrived, as artists seek to flatter and do deference in the employ of this almost supernaturally important sitter, while photographs capture the Queen as a real person, a loving mother, happy relaxed tourist and here, in the 1950s section, as a glamourous, almost Hollywood worthy young Monarch, with a perfect figure and natural celebrity smile.

It is from this point that we begin to see the Queen mature from glamorous young starlet into a rounded family woman, but one who had to bare the full weight of the royal responsibility of her solitary role, as many of the portraits demonstrate. Through the 60s and 70s, her posture becomes more official, and her stride seems more confident and self-assured. Still, moments of rare relaxation, such as the Queen laughing on the decks of her beloved Yacht Britannia are captured during this period, which was probably the last decade of uninhibited happiness before the traumas of the future descended upon her.

Queen Elizabeth II by Patrick Lichfield (1971)

Elizabeth I (this is not a typing error btw) by Gerhard Richter 1966

Queen and Prince Philip survey floral tributes after the death of Diana, Princess of Wales © Peter Nichols, 5 September 1997

Moving into the 1980s, you see the Queen fall into the shadow of Princess Diana, the attention of the public transferring to this more volatile of characters. In the meantime the Sex Pistols released a single, God Save the Queen, with controversial lyrics suggesting the Queen belonged to a “fascist regime” (the artwork for which is included in the exhibition), Gilbert and George betrayed the Queen and Prince Philip in the shape of the “cross potent” (a symbol of the Austrian Fascist party) and Andy Warhol hinted at the superficiality of the Queen in his series of lithographs of the Queen painted as part of his fixation on the cult of celebrity. Onto the 90s, when most of the Queen’s children’s marriages fell apart and her beloved Windsor Castle sustained severe fire damage. While who could have predicted the shock of the late 90s, when Princess Diana tragically died, and the Queen fell victim to a media hunt as the papers decried her failure to show her face in the immediate aftermath. The turbulence of the period is captured by the exhibition, and it is perhaps appropriate that Lucian Freud’s portrait, the ugliest of the them all, is hung at the end of this period.

Queen Elizabeth II, Andy Warhol (1985)

Queen Elizabeth II, Lucian Freud (2001)

Onto the new millennium, where things get good again. The popularity of the Queen surges, and the portraits of the Queen become more respectful, portraying the Queen as a genuine person, a consistent and beloved figurehead, and a cherished icon of not only the nation, but the world. Here hangs another of my favourites and one of the most recent portraits by Thomas Struth, commissioned especially for the Diamond Jubilee. The photograph, which features Prince Phillip and the Queen slightly off centre, sat relaxed on a green, rather elaborate sofa, is delightfully accessible, like a family portrait – you can see every vein, every wrinkle of both sitters, suggesting a warm, human aspect, which is always surprising in those who seem so inaccessible. I also love the portrait for demonstrating the bond between Phillip and the Queen, who sit fairly formally, but who are nevertheless the clear support of one another, forming a single union with a bond which is clear for all to see.

I loved too this portrait by Annie Leibovitz (2007) which, with its solitary and dramatic background, and with the Queen dressed in a cloak, references the paintings by Annigoni, and photographs by Cecil Beaton placed at the beginning of the show. And thus, as the exhibition ends, the portraits come full circle, as we see a Queen as much loved now, as then, a Queen who inspires in us all a deep sense of reverence and respect, and for we British, is someone of whom we can be resolutely proud.

Queen Elizabeth, Annie Leibovitz (2007)

The Queen: Art & Image is on at the National Portrait Gallery until 21 October 2012.

Photos: Art work featuring Queen Elizabeth II (abcnews.go.com)
Queen Elizabeth II: The portraits (itv.com)
Unseen Queen – the new exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery (thisislondon.co.uk)
Exhibition guide: The Queen: Art and Image; National Portrait Gallery (telegraph.co.uk)

Jun 21

4 Comments

The Daily Sketch: Summer Solstice?

Summer Solstice? Could have fooled me. The calendar may show June 21st, but this year’s longest and lightest day of the year had something decidedly dark about it, as thick grey clouds lingered over the UK all day, burgeoning upon us a winter’s worth of damp, windy wet weather. And all this on the first day of summer? No wonder then that at Salisbury’s infamous prehistoric monument, Stone Henge, the usual crowd of slightly “buzzing” pagan (“new age”) revelers were somewhat down in numbers, and perhaps a little dizzier than usual as the much promised summer got lost somewhere around mainland Europe, as the skies in Britain unfolded around them, and the solstice sunshine was irreverently blanketed in a thick layer of obstinate, wet cloud. But such is the English summer. The first day brings with it what promises to be another few months of depressing drizzle, with the following inevitable results: rained-off Wimbledon, squidgy Olympic opening ceremony, water-logged open air theatre and an August from the ice age. God bless the Brits – try as we might, life in the Summer outdoors is never quite going to work for us. Still, the weather can never take the strawberries and cream away from us. Even if they are imported from Egypt. Pimm’s anyone?

Summer solstice: Facts about the longest day of the year (columbiamissourian.com)
Summer Solstice 2012: Why It’s the Longest Day of the Year (thesciencebulletin.wordpress.com)

Jun 17

Sunday Supplement: St Ives

We Brits are so accustomed to heading down to Gatwick and jetting out to the Mediterranean, the French Countryside or the Aegean Sea for our summer holidays that we forget what we have on our doorstep. It’s not that we can be blamed – look at us now. Mid-June, almost the longest day, and last week we had temperatures in the region of 12 degrees. Last Monday in fact that skies were so dark as they spouted out a continuous torrent of abusively heavy rain that I felt as though apocalypse had fallen. However on the rare occasion that the weather actually behaves in correlation with the seasons, England can do summer holiday like each of its European neighbours.

I love my photo of old women on a bench – so marvellously English

There’s nothing quite like an English summer – Pimms in the garden on a setting sun, when the grass goes slightly dewey and the sunlight dapples on the dinner jackets and ballgowns of attendees to Glyndebourne Opera, or open-air Shakespeare in Regent’s Park; picnics under willow trees, next to ponds quietly humming with the sounds of multi-coloured dragonflies dancing across the surface of lily-pads; and the coast. The English coast is emblematic of old-school summer holidays, as men took out their handkerchiefs and tied knots in the corners to make a hat providing scant protection of their bald-batches, children risked breaking their teeth on a lump of sticky-sweet “rock” complete with writing running through the middle, and others took up exploring in rock-pools searching for crabs and shrimps and other creepy crawlies which lurk in amongst the rocks and seaweed when our extreme tidal system takes the sea way out beyond the beach.

Yes, this IS English sea!

Together with this tradition, you expect to find plenty of seaweed, lots of rocks and stones and a slightly dull tinge to the seawater, making it altogether a more English, slightly less comfortable affair. But last year when I headed down to Cornwall, right at the bottom of our fair nation, I was flabbergasted by the site of such a stunning coastline, with such sapphire-sparkling crystal-clear turquoise waters that I could have been in the Caribbean. No wonder then that the little harbour town of St Ives has proved such an inspiration to generations of artists (Barbara Hepworth and Ben Nicholson being two foremost examples of modern times) that the world-famous Tate Gallery has set up an outpost there.

Well when I stayed last year, I too became inspired by the burst of very mediterranean colours that were all around me and, when I was, ironically, sat in the garden of my family home in Spain on the Mediterranean itself, I took to my canvas and recollected the beauty of what I had seen in Cornwall a few weeks before.

My painting of Cornwall uses a simple colour palate with fresh oranges, greens and purples, while the turquoise qualities of the sea are reflected in all their beauty. I’ve introduced something of a cubism element when tackling the many rocks which frame the coast and most unusually of all, I’ve actually painted an impression of how the light dappled upon the canvas when I sat painting it in my parents’ garden, with the light cast through the intricate mesh of the jasmine tree. In this way I have forever captured a St Ives imbued with the light of the Med where I was inspired to paint it.

In addition, take a look at this little gallery of some of my photos from St Ives so you can see what inspired it.

: Yes, this IS English sea!

: I love my photo of old women on a bench – so marvellously English

Have an amazing Sunday.

© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm, 2001-2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Sunday Supplement: Fish in Four Quadrants (normsonline.wordpress.com)
Sunday Supplement: High Perspective (Viewed from 21c) (normsonline.wordpress.com)
Sunday Supplement – The Joie de Vivre Triptych (normsonline.wordpress.com)
Sunday Supplement – Metamorphosis: Pond Life in the Afternoon (normsonline.wordpress.com)
Sunday Supplement: Achean adventure and Cruise thru Cubes (normsonline.wordpress.com)

Jun 14

2 Comments

My Muse, the Lily

There’s nothing new about an artist being inspired by nature. It’s the main source of inspiration for most artists, particularly those who prefer the aesthetic merits of the lush and diverse countryside, the wide expanses of ocean and the changing effect of light and seasons. But what struck me today, as I sat on my sofa taking more than a momentary glance at a vase of supermarket-bought lilies next to me, was that in just a humble flower, there is so much incredibly complex beauty. Captured on camera, you have the opportunity to focus in on the individual features of the flower, its stamen, its stems, as well as the flower’s relationship with its surroundings – exit from the water, and entry into the water, as a suction bubble forms around the stem, whose angles are in turn distorted and multiplied by the effect of glass and water. When framed by a camera lens, stamen become complex, furry organisms, worthy of intense interest and query. In the same way simple stems become stripy, complex sculptures, criss-crossing like the motif from a Japanese silk screen. On the leaves, intense ribbing creates a delightful landscape of rise and fall, light and shade, while each petal resonates with different shades of white, as the delicate edge comes into focus, and the centre of the flower softens into shadow.

For me, it only takes a vase of flowers to inspire, and with a camera, I can seize upon this ripe source of inspiration, creating a hundred different photographic canvases from this one group of four lily stems, as each photo in turn proffers an abstract dance of white, green and orange, and the humble flower becomes artistically abundant, deconstructed and captured forever in art’s two dimensions.