Rupert Toovey’s Articles – Page 94

John Piper’s Brighton Aquatints

John Piper – ‘Regency Square from the West Pier’, plate III, circa 1939

John Piper was one of the leading artists of the 20th century Modern British Art Movement. He worked in the abstract, romantic and classical traditions as a painter, ceramicist, writer, designer and printmaker. Piper’s 1939 illustrations for the book ‘Brighton Aquatints’, have been credited with the revival of the aquatint as a 20th century print medium in Britain.

The book consist of twelve aquatints of Brighton. Two hundred standard copies were printed and a further fifty-five copies were hand-coloured by the artist. The prints were not signed, although Piper did sign and dedicate some copies of the book. The illustrations were printed by the two Alexander brothers who had a basement workshop in Henrietta Street, Covent Garden, London. The watermarks which appear in the paper are irregularly placed and are styled as a hand raised in blessing, a head, said to be that of Christ, and the date 1399.

The process of creating an aquatint involves exposing a plate, usually of copper or zinc, to acid through an applied layer of granulated, melted resin. The acid incises the plate between the granules creating areas of evenly pitted surface. This can be varied by applying additional resin, scraping and burnishing. Different strengths of acids are also employed. When the grains are removed and the plate is printed it results in variations of tone. The effect often resembles watercolours and wash drawings, hence the name Aquatint.

Rooted in the English tradition John Piper’s work often relates to a place, be that a landscape or a building. Piper brings a particular quality of engagement to his subjects. He captures the poetic, his emotional response and thoughts, as well as the essence of the physical reality. These themes and responses belong to the English Romantic tradition. Piper seeks to look beyond what is immediately apparent; to what the artist Paul Nash referred to as the ‘genius loci’, the spirit of the place, ‘a reality more real’.

John Piper - ‘The Royal Pavilion’, plate II, circa 1939

John Piper’s ‘Brighton Aquatints’ combine technical innovation with exceptional draughtsmanship, complexity and detail. They are accompanied by a very personal introduction by Lord Alfred Douglas and notes to each image by the artist.

This ‘Piperesque’ view of Brighton re-acquaints us with the familiar. I was in Brighton last week as a sea fret rolled in causing the Brighton Pavilion to shimmer in the bright spring sunlight. The scene was reminiscent of Piper’s view of the ‘The Royal Pavilion’ which remains remarkably unchanged from his 1939 aquatint. In his notes Piper describes the building’s extravagant beauty and the great affection in which it is held.

The Royal Pavilion, Brighton in the spring sun light

In ‘Regency Square from the West Pier’ we are reminded of a view now lost to us. John Piper describes how the pier appears like a ‘dazzling white meringue, brittle and sweet…florid and grand as anywhere.’ Regency Square is laid out on a gentle slope in the view beyond.

In both these aquatint prints the use of acid at different stages in the process has created the texture of the grass and background. Stopping out varnish repeatedly applied has been used to create the waves and skies.

John Piper wrote quoting Constable ‘Painting is with me but another word for feeling…’ Piper’s ability to use landscapes and buildings as a focus for his emotions has the effect of gifting the world with, what has been described as, ‘a human sensibility’. These qualities are apparent in ‘Brighton Aquatints’. His work gives an extraordinary articulation of the English vision and spirit.

John Piper’s ‘Brighton Aquatints’ rarely comes to the market and so it is with some excitement that I am looking forward to Toovey’s specialist Book sale on Tuesday 21st April, in which a copy, signed by the artist, will be auctioned with a pre-sale estimate of £2000-3000. (View the lot here)

By Revd. Rupert Toovey. Originally published on 15th April 2015 in the West Sussex Gazette.

Utagawa Hiroshige: Master Japanese Print Designer

Utagawa Hiroshige – ‘The Rokugo Ferry at Kawasaki’

One of the best known of all Japanese woodblock designers is Utagawa Hiroshige (1797-1858). Hiroshige’s landscape prints are internationally acclaimed and are amongst the most frequently reproduced of all Japanese works of art. They are defined by their unusual compositions and humorous depictions of people involved in everyday activities. His exquisite observation and depiction of weather, light and season are exemplary. Hiroshige’s work proved hugely influential for many leading European artists including Claude Monet and Vincent van Gogh.

Hiroshige worked in the latter part of the Edo or Tokugawa period (1603-1867). The Tokugawa shogunate had become the unchallenged rulers. It resulted in what has been described a ‘centralized feudal’ form of government.

In contrast to this agrarian society a vibrant community of merchants and businesses grew up in towns and cities in the early and mid-19th century, at the time Utagawa Hiroshige was working.

For the first time urban populations had the means and leisure time to support a new culture of theatres, geisha and courtesans. This search for pleasure became known as ukiyo (the floating world), an ideal world of fashion and entertainment. Pictures and prints depicting images of the everyday in this new society became known as Ukiyo-e – scenes of the floating world. However, Hiroshige’s depiction of people is recurrently bound up with the landscape.

Utagawa Hiroshige – ‘Night Snow at Kambra’

Hiroshige combined his print making with his inherited position as a fire warden. In 1832 he was invited to join an embassy of Shogunal officials on a journey which allowed him to observe the Tokaido Road, the Eastern sea Route which followed the coast through mountain range to Kyoto. The resultant series was called ‘Tokaido Go-ju-san-Tsugi’ (The Fifty-three Stations of the Tokaido). The three prints illustrated are early states of the polychrome woodblock oban prints from this series. They date from around 1833.

Oban refers to the most common size of Japanese print usually measuring approximately 23.5cm x 36.5cm.

The production of Japanese woodblock prints involved the artist, whose design would be pasted to the block so that the engraver could cut it. Straight grained cherry was often used as it allowed for fine detail to be carved. The printer would then print the image. As many as ten blocks were used to achieve the diversity of colour. At each stage of the process proofs would be made for approval.

Hiroshige’s lyrical depiction of ‘Night Snow at Kambra’ is poetic. We are left with a sense of the stillness and silence which often accompanies snow. It is late and no lights are apparent in the houses below as the villagers trudge home.

Utagawa Hiroshige – ‘Evening Squall at Shono’

In contrast ‘Rain storm at Shono’ portrays farmers and porters running for shelter as the sudden downpour of rain darkens the sky and obscures the mountains. The figures, angle of the rain and the wind in the trees, lends the image a sense of urgency and movement.

In ‘The Rokugo Ferry at Kawasaki’ we witness pedlars and women on a pilgrimage, in a ferryboat. On the far shore a laden pack-horse and palanquin wait, with Mount Fuji on the horizon beneath the sunset.

These three examples formed part of a collection of eight polychrome woodblock oban prints from the The Fifty-three Stations of the Tokaido series by Utagawa Hiroshige. There is always a premium for early states and they realised a total of £17,500 in two lots at a Toovey’s specialist auction. Blocks would often be altered and reused. These later states can still be bought for a hundred or two and represent wonderful value for the potential collector.

This important artist dominated Japanese landscape printmaking and was a major influence for many leading European artist.

Utagawa Hiroshige’s scenes so often depict travellers along famous Japanese routes providing us with captivating sights. But it is the intimacy with which he portrays people in snow and rain in all seasons which never ceases to delight me.

By Revd. Rupert Toovey. Originally published on 8th April 2015 in the West Sussex Gazette.

Patron & Artist Celebrate the Triumph of Love & Hope at Easter

The St Mary Magdalene Chapel, Chichester Cathedral, with Graham Sutherland’s ‘Noli me tangere’.

Over the centuries, it has always been the gift of great artists to reflect upon the world we all share and to allow us, through their work, to glimpse something of what lies beyond our immediate perception. The 20th century brought the shared and shocking experience of war to two generations. In 1944, the artist Hans Feibusch in his book ‘Mural Painting’ wrote, “The men who come home from the war, and all the rest of us, have seen too much horror and evil; when we close our eyes terrible sights haunt us; the world is seething with bestiality; and it is all man’s doing. Only the most profound, tragic, moving and sublime vision can redeem us. The voice of the Church should be heard loud over the thunderstorm; and the artist should be her mouth piece as of old.”

Graham Sutherland – ‘Portrait of Walter Hussey’, begun 1965, oil on canvas, Pallant House Gallery (Hussey Bequest, Chichester District Council, 1985).

It has often been the role of enlightened patrons to enable artists to express their visions. In 1942, as bombs fell upon Britain, Walter Hussey, on Kenneth Clark’s recommendation, commissioned Henry Moore to carve ‘Madonna and Child’ in the warm hues of Hornton stone at St. Matthew’s, Northampton, where he was vicar. As the sculpture was nearing completion, Hussey talked to Moore about a number of artists he was considering for a large painting in the south transept, opposite ‘Madonna and Child’. Henry Moore unhesitatingly recommended Graham Sutherland.

Hussey had in mind the Agony in the Garden as a subject. Sutherland confessed his ambition “to do a Crucifixion of a significant size” and Hussey agreed. Writing of the finished work, Kenneth Clark, then Director of the National Gallery and responsible for the War Artists project, said, “Sutherland’s Crucifixion is the successor to the Crucifixion of Grünewald and the early Italians.”

Graham Sutherland – ‘The Crucifixion’, 1947, oil on board, Pallant House Gallery (Hussey Bequest, Chichester District Council, 1985)

In 1955, Winston Churchill’s last ecclesiastical appointment was to install Walter Hussey as Dean of Chichester Cathedral, where his influence bore much fruit. Hussey can be credited with commissioning most of the exemplary 20th century art at Chichester Cathedral. How appropriate, then, that Walter Hussey’s gift of much of his art collection to Chichester should reside at Pallant House Gallery.

Sutherland’s 1947 version of the ‘Crucifixion’ from the Hussey Bequest is displayed at Pallant House Gallery. It illustrates the artist’s obsession with thorns as metaphors for human cruelty; their jagged lines are reflected throughout the composition. The American military published a book of photographs which featured scenes of the Nazi concentration camps, including images of those held captive at Belsen, Auschwitz and Buchenwald. To Sutherland, “many of the tortured bodies looked like figures deposed from crosses” and he acknowledged the influence of these photographs on his Crucifixions. Here, Jesus Christ’s body hangs lifeless upon the cross, the shocking red of his blood accentuated by the fertile green. There is agony in the body’s posture, the weight clearly visible in the angular shoulders, chest and distorted stomach. This is a God who understands and shares in human suffering. Graham Sutherland, a Roman Catholic, was sustained by his Christian faith all his life. He commented that he was drawn to the subject of the Crucifixion because of its duality. He noted that the Crucifixion “is the most tragic of all themes yet inherent in it is the promise of salvation”.

In Sutherland’s versions, a generation united in their common story finally had depictions of the Crucifixion which reflected their experience of the world and yet spoke loudly of the triumph of hope in response to the tragedy of violence and war.

Graham Sutherland’s vibrant oil on canvas ‘Noli me tangere’ of 1961 was commissioned by Walter Hussey for the St Mary Magdalene Chapel in Chichester Cathedral.

The painting depicts the moment on that first Easter morning when Mary Magdalene becomes aware that she is in the presence of her risen Lord who has just spoken her name. As she reaches out to touch him his gesture stops her. The angular composition of the figures, plants and staircase allude to the Passion narratives which lead up to and include Jesus’ crucifixion. At the centre of the painting is Jesus Christ dressed in white symbolising his holiness and purity. Christ’s finger points towards God the Father symbolising His presence. Graham Sutherland invites us into the narrative at this liminal moment so that we, like Mary, might acknowledge Jesus, our creator, teacher and friend, as advocate and redeemer of the whole world.

Here we witness the triumph of hope and love over evil and hatred.

There are a number of special services and concerts at Chichester Cathedral in the coming days to mark Holy Week and Easter. For more information and times go to www.chichestercathedral.org.uk. To find out more about Pallant House Gallery, 9 North Pallant, Chichester, PO19 1TJ, its collections, exhibitions and opening times go to www.pallant.org.uk or telephone 01243 774557.

By Revd. Rupert Toovey. Originally published on 1st April 2015 in the West Sussex Gazette.

Spring Unites Sussex & The Channel Islands

Postcard titled 'Weighbridge during Potato Season, Jersey'

As March draws to a close it marks the procession towards the end of the great reflective Christian season of Lent. The name Lent probably has Anglo-Saxon origins coming from a word meaning ‘spring’, which refers to lengthening days. Recently we have been blessed with some beautiful bright days punctuating the grey skies.

Colin De La Haye in the granite potato sheds at Bel Val Farm, Jersey

Last Sunday I found myself in the company of my cousins, Colin and Paulette De La Haye. They farm Jersey Royal potatoes on land bought by Paulette’s family in the late 19th century. Bel Val Farm sits confidently in its landscape in the North East of the Island of Jersey. For them this is not work, it is a way of life filled with dedication and love.

Our conversation moves, as it usually does, from the world of fine art auctioneering to the important business of this year’s potato season. One of my great delights of the year are the first Jersey Royal potatoes. There is something hopeful in their arrival. Their flavour, texture and colour, for me, marks them as the finest potatoes in the world, especially when they come from Bel Val Farm!

I comment on the chill in the wind and note that the covers are back on the early crop. Colin has the most extraordinary connection with the land. He observes and understands the language of the seasons and nature in a remarkable way. He says “We’re expecting the largest tide of the year tonight, it’s a full moon and the tide comes with the moon. If you are going to get a frost it will be with the Easter moon. Frost comes with the tide this time of year.”

Jersey Royals have been a major export for the Island for more than a century. The postcard illustrated here was sold in a Toovey’s specialist Paper Collectables auction. It depicts the bustle at the harbour during the potato season in the early 20th century. At this time there were hundreds of small farms and growers. Today there are just twenty growers. The Jersey Royal is one of the few truly seasonal crops. Its season lasts just a few months. Each year approximately 30,000 tonnes of Jersey Royals are exported to the UK, worth some £29 million pounds. The value of this crop comes from its unique flavour and that it is one of the earliest new potatoes of the season.

Being early to the market is important to a successful season as there is a premium to the price. Colin explains that each potato seed is individually stood up by hand in some 20,000 boxes over the winter months. They are stored in their potato sheds, some of which are built of granite and overlook the bay. With the eyes facing up it gives the seed an advantage once planted. The earliest Jersey Royals traditionally came from the steep sloping fields known as côtil which catch the sun and guard against the frost. Colin and Paulette’s côtil are so steep that they have to be ploughed with an ancient horse plough attached to a winch at the top of the slope. Vraic, gathered seaweed, is still put on some of the crop to improve the condition of the soil and the flavour.

Colin’s organisation, care and stewardship of the land always impresses me. He and his team will plough, plant, prepare and cover a field in a single day. But there is always the unknown in farming and in particular the weather. I ask Colin how this season is looking, he replies optimistically, as he always does “We haven’t had any frost since the 8th and 9th of January so that’s been ok.” He pauses and smiles wryly and continues “We’ll see what tonight brings. We need a bit of sun now to warm them up.”

Colin’s Jersey accent reminds me that whilst Jersey is part of the British Isles its rich history and traditions mark this proud Island people’s independence.

Always optimistic, attentive to the seasons and tides Colin is rooted in his landscape. Paulette and Colin’s hard work, stewardship and generosity is always inspiring and is to be admired.

Lent affords us time to reflect, a punctuation mark in our busy lives, a time to be reminded of things that we might, for a moment, have forgotten and to rediscover the familiar anew. So look out for the first of the seasons Jersey Royals they may well be from Bel Val Farm!

By Revd. Rupert Toovey. Originally published on 25th March 2015 in the West Sussex Gazette.

Investing in British Antique Furniture Crosses Generations

A set of eight George III mahogany dining chairs

It is remarkable to reflect that between 1968 and 2001 prices for British antique furniture grew pound for pound faster than property in the South East of England during the same period.

In 2001 British antique furniture suffered a correction in prices which set a trend of falling values in this market over more than a decade. But in more recent times I have witnessed not only a firming of prices for antique furniture at Toovey’s but the beginnings of growth.

An 18th century walnut bureau with cross and feather banded borders

The Antique Collectors’ Club Antique Furniture Annual Price Index for 2014 has just been published. According to this index many sectors of the British antique furniture market have held their position, with what they describe as a ‘stable set of [results for] Walnut, Georgian Mahogany, Regency and even Victorian indices’.

The extraordinary percentage growth over two generations to 2001 was partly due to the exceptional value for money that antique furniture represented in 1968. These relatively low prices did not last for long. Growth was underpinned by strong demand from the United States and a passion for English country house taste amongst domestic UK buyers.

The correction in the market began with the tragedy of 9/11 and the terrorist attack on the Twin Towers in New York. After this Americans seemed to reassess their business overseas and their love affair with traditional British art and antiques, largely withdrawing from the market. The comfortable and timeless taste of the English country house fell victim to the success of companies like IKEA, whose famous marketing slogan ‘Chuck out that chintz today’ had begun in 1996. Furniture joined the ranks of the disposable commodity; something which still sits uncomfortably with my sense of the need for good stewardship of the world and its resources. Proper furniture became ‘brown’. The austerity of minimalism had arrived.

But fashion and international crises are not the only things which affect markets. Over my thirty years as an antique and fine art auctioneer I have observed that collectors’ markets are driven by our human associations with objects. I regularly hear people in the saleroom remark “Oh my Granny had one of those!” Often the things we most love will have come from, or have associations with, our grandparents or an older generation. After all grandparents are home grown heroes! Our tastes are frequently informed by these sentimental attachments. Objects and art provide the prompts to fond memories and stories, which make up the patch work quilt of our lives.

So what is underpinning a recovery of interest in British antique furniture? Overseas buyers have been returning via the internet. And there is growing interest from a large minority of UK buyers. It includes a younger television generation with eclectic tastes which include antiques. They, like me, find it hard to reconcile that a piece of flat-pack furniture can be thrown out and into the landfill to answer fashion. They understand the beauty and quality of an antique mahogany piece of furniture. They are generations whose grandparents have delighted in these pieces. In turn they are delighted that no new trees have been felled to answer their furnishing needs and they comprehend that these pieces will last beyond their grandchildren. These exciting individuals are passionate about history but delight in the new and are not afraid to mix antique and modern pieces. Like the post-war generation many of them are renting their homes. Unable to plan the ‘rosebuds’ over the door in the same way as the generations of home owners before them, they are turning to their interiors to give expression to their individuality and creativity. The uniqueness of antiques provides a vehicle for this expression. British antique furniture once again represents exceptional value for money.

Prices for good quality walnut, Georgian mahogany and Victorian furniture range from hundreds of pounds into the low thousands. Perhaps the market is set for the growth in prices witnessed from the late 1960s to 2001. It would be wonderful if antique furniture could once again prove to be a successful alternative investment. One thing is for sure, if you are investing in British antique furniture it will continue to delight you and successive generations of your family. It offers beauty, practicality and a pragmatic path to better stewardship of the world and its resources. Antique furniture is ‘green’ not ‘brown’.

By Revd. Rupert Toovey. Originally published on 18th March 2015 in the West Sussex Gazette.