Monday, 7 July 2014

BURTON CONSTABLE HALL - STAR of the EAST RIDING

 
OK, yes, I admit it, we were running away from The Tour de France, but as we made our way through the Yorkshire Wolds, past Sarah Beeny's classy wedding venue, Rise Hall, and onwards through the hinterland of the eastern East Riding, we did not ignore the event completely. We lingered by this interesting shop window in Pocklington...


...and I risked my reputation (as a bit of a prig) when I snapped these commemorative cookies in the window of Thomas the Baker's, in Beverley.

 

 
While Mr N purchased his lunch-time butty inside the shop, I was accosted by a happy, boozy band of Geordie pensioners, down for the (horse) races. "Eee, flower, I'll buy tha some if tha'll share them wi' us. Gan on, divvent resist!" I didn't know whether to be flattered or affronted.
I had regained my composure by the time Burton Constable Hall came into view.
 
 
It is very sad to say that this wonderful house is overlooked by most people - if it was almost anywhere else in the country it would be feted as a treasure house, but, at the moment, it is a neglected gem. It is full of beautiful works of art, antiques and amazing furniture. The rooms look as if their occupants have just departed and the décor is varied - arsenic green Victorian wallpaper, flat Georgian terracotta, olive and grey, 1970s acid yellow.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Sumptuous bedrooms which the late incumbent, John Chichester-Constable, arranged in the 1970s in an unsuccessful bid to tempt rich American paying guests.Previously, in 1964-65, he managed a local rock band from Hull - the Hullabaloos. They were also a bit of a flop.
    
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Memorial plaits of hair from two sisters who inhabited this room - did arsenic from the wallpaper hasten their deaths?
 
 
 
It is difficult to choose a favourite room in this dazzling house, but  flying dragons make the Chinese Room truly fantastic. 
 
 
 
 
The most notable member of the Constable family was 18th century collector, antiquarian and Grand Tourist, William Constable (1721 - 1791). The dusty remnants of his Cabinet of Curiosities await restoration, in pleasing disarray.
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
And there is more, outside the grand house...
 


 
The Constables have held the estate for more than 700 years, and also the hereditary title of the 46th Lord Paramount of the Seigneury of Holderness, which theoretically gave them the income from all wrecks washed up on the coast. In the 19th century, these included the carcase of an unfortunate sperm whale, which died after beaching at Tunstall in 1825.
The whale’s skeleton was mounted on a wrought iron framework in the grounds of the estate in 1836, where it came to the attention of Herman Melville, who would write Moby Dick 16 years later. In chapter 102 of that great book, Ishmael poses the rhetorical question: “But how now Ishmael? How is it, that you, a mere oarsman in the fishery, pretend to know aught about the subterranean parts of the whale?”
The answer comes: “At a place in Yorkshire, England, Burton Constable by name, a certain Sir Clifford Constable has in his possession the skeleton of a Sperm Whale. Sir Clifford’s whale has been articulated throughout; so that like a great chest of drawers, you can open and shut him, in all his long cavities — spread out his ribs like a gigantic fan — and swing all day upon his lower jaw.
“Locks are to be put upon some of his trap doors and shutters; and a footman will show round future visitors with a bunch of keys at his side. Sir Clifford thinks of charging twopence for a peep at the whispering gallery in the spinal column; threepence to hear the echo in the hollow of his cerebellum; and sixpence for the unrivalled view from his forehead.”

In 1992 the Burton Constable Foundation was established, following negotiations with The National Heritage Memorial Fund (which provided a generous endowment) and the admirable Leeds City Council. This established the Hall and its important art collection in public ownership.
 
 
Burton Constable Hall - please have a look if you are ever in East Yorkshire!
 
***
 

Saturday, 28 June 2014

EVERYWHERE PEACE, EVERYWHERE SERENITY

So said St Aelred of Rievaulx Abbey.
 
The view above was my first glimpse of the ruins last year, from the terrace and temples of the 18th century pleasure gardens that look down upon it.


This week, after a disappointingly fruitless hunt round the antiques shops of the Vale of Pickering (one Georgian perfume bottle and some Lidl Extra Virgin Olive Oil), we decided to explore the ruins of Rievaulx Abbey at ground level, before having a picnic.

 
The weather wasn't too bad...
 

 
...and the ruins were divertingly romantic, so at first...

 
...I didn't take too much notice of what was happening.
 


 
The skies darkened - the theme for this blog post was going to be "Peace and Serenity", but the atmosphere changed, like the weather.
 
 
"I think I'm doing what they call reportage," I said.
"I can do better than that with MY camera." replied Mr N. (See his film below.)
 
                                                           

 
I hear that English Heritage wishes to offer sincere apologies to St Aelred.
 
 
***
 
                                                                                    

Wednesday, 18 June 2014

ONLY IN BRADFORD

 
Today, it was my turn for a Birthday Treat !
 

 
 
 
Sadly, the regeneration of Bradford is taking a long time and it could be said to have lost much of it's Northern, gritty, smoke-stained charm, along with many Victorian buildings and shops, a fact be-moaned by one of its most famous sons, J.B. Priestley.


Mr Priestley now stands outside the National Media Museum, one very good reason not to give up on Bradford...
 
 
 
...and the scene of my seriously good birthday treat, a visit to Only In England, an exhibition of black and white photography by Tony Ray Jones (1941 - 1972) ...
 
 
 ...and Martin Parr, whose 1970's black and white photographs show life among the Non-Conformist chapel-goers of deepest West Yorkshire.
 
 
What a diverse and delightfully eccentric bunch we English are!
 
 
The Museum's Media Café was one of the best we've come across, with surprisingly good lunches...
 
 
...or should I just say...
 
 
...very SURPRISING food? (He only ordered a burger.)
 
***

Monday, 9 June 2014

SURREAL SUNDAY

 
Yesterday was Mr N's birthday and, of course, I'd planned a few surprises for him. One of these also happened to be a trip down memory lane for me. Many years ago I did a degree in fine art at Canterbury College of Art. The new degree course had only just been created and was run by a posse of tutors from the Jacob Kramer College of Art in Leeds, an establishment with a modest reputation for embracing the avant-garde. The first Mr N, let's call him General G, arrived with them from Leeds to join the course and was already a follower of Dada and Surrealism. He believed that the idea was the important thing - not the finished art work. Yes - conceptual art had arrived in the 1960s!
I've recreated one of his works here. The original landscape was drawn whilst travelling on a coach down to Victoria, at the start of a new term.



 

Another representation of this landscape was drawn by placing a pencil on a piece of tissue held against the coach window and moving the pencil up and down, as the fields rose and fell. The resulting drawing looked very much like this...

.

 
Bedfordshire is very flat!
 
General G was keen to use imagery that was impersonal - the art work was to convey the idea, without any sensual brush strokes and the resulting distraction of an emotional response. To this end he began to use the graphic style of vintage comics.
 
 
 
At this point in the story we met Glen Baxter, a young artist from Leeds, come down to Canterbury as a visiting lecturer. I can't remember what he taught us but he and General G got on like a house on fire and, later, when we visited his London flat, I was very impressed by a Victorian chest of drawers painted in rainbow colours, rather like the one below.
 
 
I let them talk about Dada poetry and the like, while I admired the décor.
 
*
All this is why, when I found that Glen Baxter was giving a talk about his work at the Cartwright Hall, Bradford, yesterday, I thought it would be a bit of birthday fun to go along. You probably know his work through his comic greetings cards, appealing to those of us with a taste for bizarre humour.
 
 
It was an entertaining talk, with Colonel Baxter, as he likes to be known, a youthful 70 year old, still with the shy charm and twinkling eye that I remember so well. He gave us his potted life history and talked of how his career in art had developed. One seminal moment was his first ever sale - to the American writer and illustrator, Edward Gorey. Respect!
 
An Edward Gorey illustration.
 
I was a little disappointed that he did not seem to recall his meeting with two young artists in the late '60s - no mention of his visits to Canterbury - and he was a bit dismissive of his time as a student in Leeds. I did not dare to remind him of how much I liked his painted furniture.
 
But, no matter - cartoon humour was our theme of the day and Mr N's favourite birthday present was his new Bart Simpson T shirt...
 
 
***