The City, as Was

Nothing much has happened recently, apart from temperatures heading for the 90s and everyone being sick of the liars contesting the Conservative leadership.  More noise about high energy prices, indeed Boris reappeared at a meeting of energy bosses in No 10.  Nothing happened bar him getting a backhander or two I suspect.  He certainly did nothing for the cost of living increase, however, his lackeys at all levels are keeping up the pressure to bring him back.  

The drought has been declared, so I will cease from washing, though I have done one today.  Tesco and washing sheets, my life is so full!

At least football is back, though to be honest it means little these days.  So much around me has little taste today.  In fact nothing tastes, that is, it means little unlike in days gone by.  Age is having an effect.  I have no problems disliking things, so much I see is trashy and worthless, though my forefathers must have felt the same.  The 'shiny' things of the world mean less as time passes, though if I were to obtain a large source of wealth my ideas may differ.  This of course is unlikely.  So, I will just remain here, a miserable old goat.  A position, I have been told, that suits me admirably.

Atkinson Grimshaw - The Thames Below London Bridge

Joseph Farquharson - A Flock of Sheep in a Snowstorm

With the temperature reaching towards 31c and that means about 92f, I thought some would appreciate a picture to cool them down.   This artist created several similar scenes, I suppose living up north he would find this an easy country view to notice!  He created so many such paintings he was known as "Frozen Mutton Farquharson." 

As you give thanks for not putting the gas on, as you reach for yet another ice cream, consider the sheep, and indeed the painter sitting there in two feet deep snow trying to finish his picture! 

Joseph Farquharson: 1846 - 1935. 

Victorian Fishing Scene

What a good picture this is.  'The Mornings Catch,' by James Clark Hook, 1877.

This tells us much about the rough lives out forefathers lived.  Not just the danger of all night fishing in rough seas, often quite far out to sea, but also the hard work left for the women in the morning.  The fish has to be sorted, taken by creel to where customers lay in wait, and hopefully a good deal done, possibly door to door.  This on top of whatever house they possessed, possibly rented, stone or hard dirt floor, outside toilet, no running water, several children at that time being sent to school, and normal daily routine had to be followed.  

There was of course no pension, no welfare state, and people worked until they dropped, unless they, or a relative got lucky and made a fortune.  Fortunes in the 19th century could of course be made and lost within a generation.  Limited medicine, no painkillers bar chloroform, smoking, poor diet, though the fisherfolk and farmers could manage reasonably well, and most dead by their 50s.   

James Clark Hook 1819 - 1907, became quite famous for his sea pictures.  He painted so many they were known as 'Hookscapes.'  

I must admit I like sea pictures and this one, the view, the colours and the reflection of life in late Victorian Cornwall (at least many were painted there) appears true to life.  Painting however, does not indicate the smell of the fish!  In this way we are lucky.  

Drizzly Spring Musings

 

The hazy bright morning sun promised Spring warmth, as I write the drizzle is busy trying to rear Daffoldills which cower under the bare branches of the trees.  Tsk!  At least the gas is not on, the heaters are off and I no longer need to wear my coat indoors. 

As Spring deepens, it is claimed fewer people will be rushed into hospital with Covid, therefore Westminster will rush children back to school, pubs opened, shops, barbers and sundry businesses urged to return and by the end off July we shall see the hospitals full once again!  Of course it may be true that the vaccinations are having an effect, but there again it may just be those 'unnamed' people pushing in the press and on social media for a return that are behind this 'confidence.'

Nothing however, will take the smug grin of Hancocks face, as long as he is making money he cares not about the rest.  That is a sure sign of this bad government.

I believe we have an opposition but I have no idea where it is.

 

'Worcester II' by Charles William Wyllie (1853-1923).  'Worcester II' was a redundant R oyal Naval shipthat moved into the Thames in 1862 and took its place as a RN training ship.  She remained there until 1945 when replaced and moved by the navy to moorings elsewhere.  Unfortunately she was not used and slowly rotted away, capsizing and being slowly eaten by the tides.  Such a shame for a ship, but there again it saves cash in dismantling her.  

I have a penchant (whatever that is) for pictures of the sea.  Charles William Wyllie and his more famous brother, William Lionel Wyllie, both painted such works. Charles sadly moved into more mythalogical fantasies, usually featuring bare breasted women, I know not why.

It may well be more such pictures fill the empty spaces of this blog until I get out and about a bit more. Not that we can go far anyway these days...

 

Mirror

 

News is hard to come by these days.  The papers will fill space with everything and anything.  Here we see an item taken from the web, that appears to be where the press get their news these days, the item is all about a woman who saves money by searching the shops for reduced items.

Gosh!  Who would have thought that by seeking out the 'yellow stickers' you could save money?  

What surprised me is that she saves (she said) £50 a week on her total shop!  £50?  Maybe you were buying things you did not require, using expensive brands rather than 'shops own' and squandering money in a flagrant manner?  Just saying like.

The disabled, the unemployed (some 850,000 it appears), the poorest using food banks, and pensioners have been doing this for years.  But hey, anything to fill space in the media.

 

A Painter called Goodwin

Holyrood 

'Holyrood' by Albert Goodwin caught my attention this morning.  A striking, though somewhat dramatic, impression of the area at the foot of the Royal Mile.  The bright red uniforms of the Guards lit by a gas lamp, a few bright spots in the windows, an umbrella, and the typical Edinburgh rain with just a touch of light in the sky show that he painting this during the height of summer!  Poetic licence allows for an image the camera cannot catch but this is not harming anything.  There were enough photographs indicting the terrible housing conditions round the corner from Holyrood to show life was not good for the lower orders at this time.  The rain however, remains constant!

 Westminster

Albert Goodwin was born in Maidstone in the year 1845, the same year my grandfather chose to be born.  He was born on a farm on the border while Albert arrived in a builders home, one of nine children!  It has been said that photographs from the Victorian age contain many children, while in the present time they contain many older people.  Large Victorian families died out after the second world war, better wealth, better health, and better control helped.  I need not point out that my mother often referred to me as an 'accident,' without explaining why.  How many young men are called 'Albert' these days?  By marrying Victoria and becoming the queen's consort Albert gave his name to the nation paying his way.  Male children called 'Albert' did abound, as did 'Albert Road,' 'Albert Street,' 'Albert Terrace,' and a few 'Albert' pubs no doubt.  I could go on but I will generously spare you that.  Now our Albert was talented, especially in water colours which he made his specialisation, so talented that the 'Pre-Raphaelite' Ford Madox Brown among others took him under his wing when young and while he was only fifteen years of age Goodwin had one picture on show at the Royal Academy.  John Ruskin the famous man of letters, I am a man of letters also, mostly begging, Ruskin took him across Europe where he sketched and drew later turning the results into many pictures.  His paintings did have a 'Turner' like effect, at least they made an impression on me, and his landscapes delight at every turn.  Ruskin was a man who encouraged the Turner influence.  he wished Goodwin and all to paint 'beauty,' which meant the uglier side of life was ignored. 'Beauty' was supposed to lift the individual, which indeed it does, but so does a proper wage and a home with heat!

Whitby

Allowing for that artistic licence, which is another way of saying artists cheat, there is a great deal of history in the pictures.  'Westminster' for instance reveals how close the docks were to parliament.  What is now Victoria Park was at that time home to many boats, possibly their maintenance was involved although it might well be goods were transshipped even here.  The lighters, sails, and occasional figure offer a peaceful 'end of day' appearance.  This would be gladly welcomed by those working the boats as their day had started by six and was probably ending more than twelve hours later.  On top of this that artist fellow keeps shouting, "keep the boat still will you?"  The angle from which he paints the ruins at Whitby, the inspiration for 'Dracula' as you know, enables the artist to avoid all those horrid dwellings with the people in them.  

Nile Sunset

Albert Goodwin passed away in 1932 after a life travelling the world painting pictures which he hoped would show God's beauty in the world around us.  Ruskin's influence taught him the importance of drawing as well as colour, Turner and Pre-Raphaelite taught him beauty but in the end he was himself, doing what he thought right.  Historical facets can be gleamed in the many pictures he painted, around 800 in all, but it is a pity he did not show more reality of the world around.  

Why Alfred Goodwin Matters    Albert Goodwin Information & pictures    Albert Goodwin Wiki

Representation of the People?

In times past I liked to take portrait pictures.  I must have taken hundreds of pictures of people and have at least one really good one and two I like.  Now I only have the wee camera, and no models, I don't take any, which is irksome.  However I always collect such portraits if I see any I like, either paintings or photos.  Today I found myself wandering through sites offering vintage portraits and I am amazed so many see the light of day.  There is something about these I like.  The attractive women, the clever way they have been posed, the expressions.  A good portrait offers you the real person, and the person does not always like what they see!  Some photographers have a way of making the sitter what the photographer wishes them to be rather than what they actually are, and this irritates.  There are those who put the sitter in a box, or with a background that makes them something other than themselves, these are often famous photographers, but the subject is not in my view themselves, just a mannequin.  

The use of light and dark, the background that forces the eye onto the light areas is very Rembrandt like.  I think it was Karsh, a famous portrait photographer, who was instructed to spend time in art galleries studying Rembrants work before he began his own.  It shows in what he produced.  Karsh made his name during the war with a famous 'bulldog' picture of Churchill.  He obtained this after the first pose revealed a smiling Prime Minister with an expression usually give to grandchildren.  Karsh stepped forward, said "Sorry Prime Minister," and grabbed his cigar out of his hand.  The resultant expression of disgust gave the world the appropriate picture.

One day when rich I will get a camera similar to the aged Zenith 'E' or the Minolta, scrape together a lens of around 105 -150 length and go find myself some willing (cheap) models.

Until then I trawl the net.

     

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Back to Normal

The world returned to normal this morning. Vehicles sped up and down the road, the wireless offered death, despair and shock horror headlines, as did the rest of the media.  People grumbled as the passed my door, and this not surprising as the howling gales blew rain in sheets against my window, and the passers-by!  Indeed the world has forgotten the recent time of 'good will to all men,' and has returned to girning about the weather, the government, the neighbours and all else.  I, still suffering this virus have hardly slept all night. Food is not retained and I feel awful again, so normality is found here also.  My mood was not helped when the Landlords manager returned to work and informed me I will have to fix my dead oven myself!  Oh yeah?  How I ask?  They will pay but my hamfisted approach will ensure a fire that destroys half the town, what then! Bah! The rain is still coming down and I am sure the postmen will be rejoicing in such weather.  Gales blowing what mail there is out of their hands, rain filling the bags, and customers whining about 'paper mache' being put through their doors!  Up north much destruction is being caused by the storms there.  So we are not too bad I suppose.

One item caught my attention for a moment today.  David Hockney, an artist, criticised other artists, in particular Damian Hirst, for not being sole authors of their 'work.'  I found this quite amusing.  Here we have a man made famous by banal empty pictures unhappy with Damian's approach. If only either were real 'artists' and produced something that made a difference as opposed to something that made them a name then life would be better for all. Both have large bank accounts, neither cares much for any other opinion as far as I can see, yet these two are feted and prized by the chattering classes.  "It's a funny old world Saint!"

Daily Mail

Now I like looking at aircraft.  I am no 'spotter,' as I often have no idea what I am looking at, but I enjoy watching the machines fly by.  Two 'Helicopter Spotters' claim to have driven into RAF Oldham, being 'waved by' by the security men as they followed a line of vehicles entering.  They claim they thought a display was under way and innocently wandered about taking pictures of the machines.  They drove up close to one or two and were somewhat surprised after ten minutes when an armed response unit responded with arms and locked them up. Max Award and Addison Bridet were interrogated for three hours and then released.  The MOD spokesman said security had not been compromised.  Not compromised?  Two men drive in unchecked, wander about, taking photos and security is 'not compromised?  Of course it was compromised!  How easy would a terrorist have found an entrance here?  How many other bases have poor security, and many employ 'outside security' to guard the base, partly to save money and [partly to release men for other duties.  I have always found this dubious.  The armed forces ought to guard themselves, and if RAF bases are so easily entered I suspect a resurgence in the RAF Regiment after this, although George Osbourne (the Chancellor) will not allow money to be spent on this.   

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Lionel Walden

I came across this picture of Cardiff Docks by the American artist Lionel Walden  (1861-1933)the other day and am much impressed. I love realism in paint, especially when as bright as this, er... dank,  scene happens to be.  It is real life, full of action and contains a steam train!  What more could anyone ask for I wonder? Cardiff Docks themselves have declined with the years, although still in use much of the area has been regenerated and the 'Tiger Bay' reputation is not what it once was. Waldens pictures are worth a look!


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Friday Musings

These interesting houses were I read somewhere built by one of the Courtauld's for some of their (better) employees. Unfortunately I cannot find the link again and I am going on memory here. I believe they were built as late as 1926 and appear influenced by the 'Arts & Crafts Movement' begun by the middle class socialist William Morris.  They stand alone, backing on to the allotments that join the playing fields. I often wonder what they are like inside, although glancing at the windows brings scowls from the inhabitants I find, and the only disadvantage they have these days comes from the once large front garden now turned into car parking, and the tiny letterbox which annoys postmen!  Whether they are now on open sale or still tied by some agreement I cannot tell, and being broke don't really care, but I do think that if you make homes for your (better) employees you may as well make them attractive like the ones shown here.  

I saw this picture for the first time many years ago and took to it straight away.  The face of the woman, bored, depressed, or what stuck in my mind.  I just wanted to do something for her.  Who knows why this was painted, possibly it was a genuine situation the artist noted, at least it wasn't more young ballet dancers! The reality of the situation still impresses me, and reality is all that matters. 

During the high winds that crossed the centre of Scotland yesterday, causing no little destruction, flooding and turning over of vehicles, someone, I know not who, took this picture from the train while crossing the Forth Bridge. The Forth Road Bridge behind is deserted, closed because of the winds howling up the Forth from the west, and there in between the bridges we see a small boat cheerfully crossing the Forth in spite of it all. I wonder if this is an official boat, Police or Coastguard perhaps, whatever rather him than me in such weather!


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Now I am not one to Complain but,

So after the e-mails I phoned using my dying mobile phone. I ensured I charged the battery as I expected to listen to "Your call is important to us," several times before getting anywhere.  This indeed occurred and starting from being "Seventh" in the queue I soon moved up to "2nd," although I was beginning not to care when the man in Bangalore answered. We went through the whole thing again, he following his script well, and in due course sent me on to the 'Technical' people.  I can well understand a need for one to remove all the simple fault, check the connections, pay your bill etc, so I happily (ha!) waited as the music played.  What the music was I know not, the sound distorting on the phone, although it may have distorted over the ten thousand miles it was travelling of course. Eventually a lovely young Indian women cheerfully and pleasantly went through the script and tested the line.  "There is a fault on the line," she told me helpfully, and asked of she ought to call my mobile while she did what she had to do. I had informed her the battery would run out but happily (again) decided to wait the "two or three" minutes this would take.  On minute later the battery died!  She never called back, I fear to do so especially during the day, and I have now no idea if the thing will be fixed or not.  The staff were indeed friendly and efficient but I wondered how they cope with strong accents?  I speak clearly to such as they, my time in London taught me this when dealing with 'Foreign Johnny's,' but upset folks from Newcastle or Cornwall may not be so considerate!  At the moment the Internet works, but does collapse at busy times or stops for no reason, the phone remains dead.  Ah well another 24 hours may well explain it all, possibly. 

   BBC

As I type my spelling mistakes I am listening to the 'BBC Democracy Live' programme offering live debates from the UK House of Commons.  I like this site as it allows us to watch Parliament at work both in the House and in Commons Committees.  We are also offered the Scots Parliament, Welsh Assembly and the European Parliament (for what that's worth) and within a few minutes we can find live, or recorded, all our politicians lying in their teeth in every part of the nation and indeed in Europe!  This is indeed a find!  The debates never vary, the government defends, the opposition attempts to pick faults, the 'other side' is always in the wrong and facts are used to support any argument! The best occasions are when the House is almost empty and a Bill, of major or minor importance, is being debated by those with a particular interest in it. Often these can be knowledgeable or just plain funny!  The wit and friendliness of many debates are rarely reported however I find some better than the usual TV offerings. Others of course debate long and hard on Bills of major importance and very serious indeed.  Today we debate the NHS, "The other side was at fault." "Oh no it wasn't, you are."  Money amounts, in the millions, are quoted by both sides, but in the end we know the Tories will kill of the NHS if they can, and the 'other side' (Labour) want to save NHS costs also.  In the end we lose out as hospitals close, queues lengthen, and those office workers I once worked amongst still squander millions with no thought for patients anywhere!  What is the answer?  The Tories want to sell it, Labour keep it (Tony Blair would sell it also as he is well off!) but cut costs.  In short none of them know what to do!  In the end ideology, not facts, will tell.

Turner painted this in his 'impressionist style. Some tell me his paintings like this of the later part of his career are fabulous but I wonder?  I went to the gallery some years ago and saw many of his pictures 'live' and it appeared to my mind that in the end he had just got to much yellow and white paint delivered and didn't wish to waste it. As each was produced they became more or less white and yellow mixtures with added darker blobs. On a decent day I get similar experiences simply by removing my glasses.  This does not give me an 'impression' of the world around me it just leaves me falling over litter bins and park benches.  While I admired much of Turners work and I love the bright colours of such a painting I must wonder if it deserves the respect it receives, although much of that comes from fawning critics who don't wish to be different from the crowd. I would rather see the train, the sky, and the colours.  My twisted and perverse brain can accommodate these and supply a suitable impression when required. What say you?

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Last Sunshine?

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I snapped this bright blue sky this afternoon as I suspect this may be the last hot day of the year.  They say the temperature will drop considerably over the next few days, that the remains of another US hurricane will be deposited over us, with the accompanying winds to boot!  It appears a proper autumn is upon us now.  I may not go out for the next six months!  

Lady Campbell

As some enjoyed the portrait of Reynolds I add another, Lady Colin Campbell painted by Giovanni Boldini in 1897.  I first saw this large impressive painting in the English National Portrait Gallery, which you ought to visit, and was very impressed by it. The impression I received is dimmed somewhat by the restrictions of a blog, but this is a marvellous portrait. 


Gertrude Elizabeth Blood, who married Lord Colin Campbell and joined a higher social society than that in which she was bred.  However he was a philanderer and appears to have passed on a nasty disease to her. The following divorce caused a sensation (yawn) and high society rejected her in spite of he being to blame.  Well they were all at it were they not?  They still are, no morals among the high society at any time.  She turned to literary work and mixed in artistic circles. She died in 1911 in her early fifties. 
Check the link for more.


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Joshua Reynolds

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I like portraits.  This self portrait of Sir Joshua Reynolds is particularly good I thought. Instead of the usual sidelong glance and hands akimbo that we often see here he has cleverly put his hand over his eyes and brought life to the portrait.  Very good indeed I say!


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Grimshaw: Nightfall Thames

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A Saturday Night Painting

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Norham Castle

I am just trying to make an impression......

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Painting

Do you realise just how difficult it is to paint the window? Mind you is is several years since I attempted this and I had to relearn everything again. There again every time I have a tea break I need to relearn everything again but that's another matter.This takes forever this painting lark! I forgot how trying painting frames could be! Getting the brush to apply the stuff is hard enough, but getting it wiped off the glass when the brush makes a mistake is wearing me out! I had hoped to finish it, but naturally there are some bits that cannot be reached when the paint is still wet. Then there is the problem of the window dropping down when my paws are full of brush and tin, panic sets in, manhandling of wet window leaving paint on me that is somehow transferred to everything within a mile and a half! Then half an hour like 'Laurel & Hardy' until I get back into the swing of things. Naturally when I finished for the day, worn out and weary, I began to rinse the brushes under the tap. It was as I done so I realised this was 'undercoat' and not 'emulsion!' As I stared unbelievingly at my paint covered hands I realised there was no 'white spirit' in the house! (Why don't we call it 'Turpentine' any more?) This meant a sticky trail through the town until I found some from a cheerless non - English speaking type for whom smiling was a crime! (No it wasn't Mike S.) However the undercoat is now on most of the woodwork, and quite a lot of the floor, just a bit to finish when the rest is dry. Tomorrow we gloss. 'Once more unto the window we go!' As someone famous almost said.

Of course, then there are the other windows that needs doing also. I need a job to give me a rest!

Portraits

This painting is called 'The Beaver Hat' and is by the Scots painter Edward Arthur Walton.
I post it simply because I like it. In the days of long ago I used to attempt to take portrait photographs and became quite adept at this. In fact of the thousands of pictures taken I found three that were worth looking at! Sadly I have not succeeded in continuing this success story through a lack of models, although I have enquired about the availability of several lassies as they passed by. The ASBO hinders this somewhat now.

I like looking at portraits as they tell us so much, mostly indirectly. While we look at the individual shown we learn much about the society around them as well as the portrait painter or photographer. It appears to me that far too many today tell us more about themselves and little about the subject. This is very sad. 'The Beaver Hat' tells us that the date is pre-war, the 'Great War' that is, but says nothing about the lassie posing. Had she been important I suspect her name would have been well known in artistic circles, and a large fee paid for the painting. This must therefore be a model. Such hats were popular amongst the girls of the day, if they had cash, and kept many a trapper happy in the wild west, although they may well have been travelling by Model 'T' Fords by this time! This is a lovely picture, simple and straightforward, a limited background, (looks like some bedsits I have known, dull, dirty and dingy,) with the lassies face highlighted and standing out from the rest. I like it. I wonder how much this would cost in today's 'Credit Crunch' society?