Sunday 29 July 2007

Anyone seen a Pyrrhula pyrrhula?

Arguably the handsomest bird in the land is the male Bullfinch. Although historically rare in the west of the country, it does seem to be getting scarcer nationwide. The Common Bird Census indicates that the decline between 1968 and 1991 has been 75% on farmland and 47% in woodland, with a breeding population now of under 200,000.
The Bullfinch has never been a popular bird with fruit growers due to it's voracious spring appetite for tree buds: a flock of Bullfinches can strip an orchard in no time with a single adult removing 30 or more buds a minute. Indeed, as recently as 1996 a licence to kill Bullfinches was issued to commercial fruit growers in Kent. A Biodiversity Action Plan has been drawn up to (attempt) to arrest this decline.
Sources
Species Action Plan for Bullfinch (Pyrrhula pyrrhula) UK Biodiversity Action Plan http://www.ukbap.org.uk/UKPlans.aspx?ID=542#1

Tuesday 24 July 2007

Ben Nicholson's White Reliefs: British Modernism's finest hour

It has been claimed that Ben Nicholson's "eureka" moment came when he was carving into a piece of lino: the realisation that the carved lino was the art, (not a mere printing plate) coupled with the fact that he had Barbara Hepworth's chisels readily at hand, meant that Nicholson could start to create the greatest Modernist art to come out of Great Britain.
Whatever the origins, Nicholson's early works were certainly not original, abstract painted reliefs were being produced in the early 1920s by such artists as Erich Buchholz, and Nicholson's greatest influence at this time, Jean (Hans) Arp. The idea of entirely white painted reliefs could be seen as an inevitable result of the influences that were flooding in from modernist Europe: 'whiteness' was everywhere, from Brancusi's white studio to the groundbreaking architecture of Corbusier. White was the colour of Modernism, and Ben Nicholson was not the only member of the family to succumb: 'Kit' Nicholson, Ben's younger brother, was to design the modernist Gliding Club in Dunstable in 1934.
The white reliefs are physical, sculptural objects, and need to be seen as such. To attempt to analyze them as paintings is unrewarding and ultimately fruitless. They explore planes and depth, and come to life with the play of light across their surface. In this regard they are decorative pieces to be lived with, to be contemplated in all light conditions and seasons. They do not sit easily in the artificial environment of the gallery (in much the same way that Barbara Hepworth's work benefits so much from her garden).
Nicholson's early reliefs continue until 1939, almost stopping when he and Barbara Hepworth move to St. Ives. Here he introduces colour back into his work, which, although predominantly two dimensional still explores issues of depth, planes, and intersecting geometrical shapes. It is only when he finally tires of the in-fighting and strained relations of St. Ives and moves to Switzerland that the reliefs return, some painted white but most subtly coloured. Indeed, even some of his etchings and drawings are now 'relief' (such as 1967 (Pisa as intended)). By now Nicholson was mostly carving hardboard, which is extremely tough, and it is a measure of his mental strength and dedication to his vision (not to mention physical robustness), that he laboriously carved his reliefs using razor blades in order to achieve the exact depth and precision, getting through hundreds at the completion of a piece. As he stated in a letter to Herbert Read (quoted in Khoroche):
"The patience to use a razor blade is NOTHING, the passion to achieve an end by whatever means that is the point"
In 1982, the white relief reaches its natural conclusion at Sutton Place in Guildford, where a marble relief wall is constructed, now known as the Nicholson Wall.

Sources:
Sarah Jane Checkland (2000) Ben Nicholson: the viciosu circles of his life and art. John Murray, London.
Peter Khoroche (2002) Ben Nicholson: drawings and painted reliefs. Lund Humphries, London.
Norbert Lynton (1993) Ben Nicholson. Phaidon, London.

Illustration:
1934 (Relief). Oil on carved board, 71.8 x 96.5 cm., Tate Gallery

Thursday 19 July 2007

Corbels on display at Mary Redcliffe, Bristol



"architect by training, a painter by inclination and a photographer by necessity"

This is how the great English photographer Edwin Smith (1912-1971) described himself. Relatively ignored in his own day, and described in his Times obituary by John Hadfield as "likely to command increasing attention when some of his currently famous contemporaries are forgotten", Smith is now getting some well deserved attention (see the excellent Evocations of Place: the photography of Edwin Smith).
In an age when photography was not seen as a branch of the arts, Smith was a reluctant photographer: even stating on his marriage certificate that his occupation was 'painter', which in a way it was, as he painted everyday, as well as producing high quality woodcuts and endpaper designs. However, Smith was more than a mere jobbing camareaman: whether in Ashington, London or photographing parish churches, Smith's camera captured the essential 'genius loci' of place, infusing his photographs with a richness of tone rarely seen in black and white images. You can also see in Smith's photographs both a timelessness and a shift into post-war modernity in much the same way as in the paintings of Nash, Piper and the Neo-Romantics.
Smith, and his second wife Olive Cook, moved to Saffron Walden in the 1960s where they were part of the artistic circle that had formed around Edward Bawden (who shared with Smith a love of cats). After Smiths death in 1971, Olive Cook was a great champion for her husband's art, and was instrumental in establishing the marvellous Fry Art Gallery in Saffron Walden. She also gave one of Smith's cameras to James Ravilious, whose own work echoes the sensitivity and subtleties of Edwin Smith's.

Sources:
Robert Elwall (2007) Evocations of Place: the photography of Edwin Smith, Merrell, London
Marina Vaizey (May 2006) 'Smith, Edwin George Herbert (1912-1971)', Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, Oxford University Press, Sept 2004; Online edn.
John Hadfield (4 Jan. 1972) 'Mr Edwin Smith Painter and Photographer', (Obituaries), The Times, London, p. 12

Sunday 1 July 2007

In praise of the inventor of Linoleum

Frederick Edward Walton, born sometime before 1834, was the inventor of linoleum, that versatile floor covering now, probably, better known as a printing medium. Like many inventions, Walton discovered linoleum by accident. While attempting to develop a quick drying paint for use in the manufacture of oilcloth (another utilitarian product undergoing a retro design renaissance) Walton noticed that the skin that formed on an open tin of paint had a consistency akin to rubber. This was oxidized linseed oil, and by 1860 Walton had patented a process that enabled him to expose linseed oil to air on a commercial scale. The search for a durable floor covering had been going on for a few years, and there were many early products, such as Kamptulicon, a rubber and cork based covering. Walton substituted the rubber with his oxidized linseed oil, mixed it with cork and resin, mounted it on hessian, and linoleum was born. Linoleum (from linum, linen thread, and oleum, oil) made it's first appearance in 1863, and was patented in 1864. The Linoleum Manufacturing Company was started, a printing factory in Staines converted, and a showroom opened at 67 Newgate Street, London. The "warm, soft and durable" linoleum was advertised at railway stations, and sales started to grow, spreading from domestic interiors to offices and hospitals. In 1872 Walton set up the American Linoleum Company (originally named the Joseph Wild Co.) on the western shore of Staten Island in a town that was dubbed Linoleumville. When the company moved to Philadelphia the citizens of Linoleumville, rather miserably, renamed it Travis. Walton's patent for linoleum ran out in 1877, and despite his attempts to retain exclusive use of the name, in 1878 the High Court ruled that 'linoleum' was the name of a material, not the name of a product of one company. This resulted in rival companies, such as Nairns of Kirkcaldy selling their own linoleums. In fact Kirkcaldy (the town where Adam Smith wrote The Wealth of Nations) became the world centre of linoleum production, with six manufacturers in the town. In 1930 the Linoleum Manufacturing Company amalgamated with Barry, Ostlere and Shepherd to become Barry and Staines Linoleum Company (later Barry Staines), and at it's height, they employed around 350 people in Staines, making it the towns largest employer, churning out 3,200 sq. yards of 'Staines Lino' each week by 1956. The site of the factory is now a shopping centre, after the company relocated to Scotland in the early 1970s, with the only evidence of the factory's existence a statue of two men carrying a roll of linoleum (see illustration). Walton went on to register 88 patents, most of which involved oxidized linseed oil. One of them was a method of embossing fabrics for wall and ceiling coverings, and was marketed as Lincrusta-Walton. Incidentally, Anaglypta , which was invented by a Walton employee, Thomas Palmer, had been rejected by Walton as he saw it as a direct competitor to Lincrusta, so Palmer set up on his own. After retiring to Nice in the 1920s he wrote The Infancy and Development of Linoleum Floorcloth (1925), painted watercolours and read poetry. He was killed in a car accident on 16 May 1928, aged 94, and was buried in La Caucada Cemetery.