Month: January 2019

The Best Part of Edward Burne-Jones: William Morris

Glory

The most excellent portion of the Tate’s Burne-Jones exhibition was without a doubt the stained glass, furniture, and tapestries in the final room of the exhibition, which presented Burne-Jones as a designer, which in many ways he was. Burne-Jones was one of very few at his time to value “low arts” such as textiles and stained glass as equivalent to fine art. (Art vs. Craft is still heavily debated today.) That said, Burne-Jones has William Morris to thank for these strokes of inspiration, as Morris was a designer through and through.

Morris and Burne-Jones began as schoolmates and shared homes and studio spaces as they matured. Morris’ life is well chronicled on his gallery’s website, which details the overlapping of the two artists’ lives, and in many ways elucidates their differences. Morris was even further a proponent of craft as art, himself being a master of weaving, drawing on medieval designs for his own textiles. Similarly Burne-Jones was often inspired by Renaissance art or biblical/mythical imagery. (Source.)

Both artists saw decoration as a valid and accessible way to bring art to the public, though Morris was far more of a socialist than Burne-Jones, in that regard. Morris felt guilt for the price of his work, something no common person could enjoy, and envisioned a world in which everyone supports one another and creates art by hand. Burne-Jones, on the other hand, was comfortable retreating into fantasy for the sake of avoiding politics. Art was one thing, but social change was another. While Morris’ social views were not impressed upon Burne-Jones, luckily his interest in 3D works was.

Looking more closely at the “Graham Piano” that was part of the exhibition, it almost takes on a sculpture-like presence. The hard edges and curves provide a structured feel while the soft flesh depicted on the inside of the piano lies in contrast. A womanly figure directs the cherubs in a scene that would be considered a formidable painting if it were located on canvas, but is further enhanced by its location on the interior of a piano. A piano, as an object, carries with it the hope of music, and the promise of sound, which abstract art might later try to convey. The functional use of the object, in this sense, elevates the imagery and creates an even more heavenly atmosphere.

It is a personal opinion, of course, that art which fills space is more interesting than flat pictures, but I hope that a look at Burne-Jones’ Prioress’s Tale Wardrobe or Ladies and Animals Sideboard will convey some of my enchantment with 3D art. My mind associates these works with illumination, the art of decorating a text with visuals, that it be better understood. The furniture becomes “illuminated” and takes on a greater meaning than its functional purpose as a wardrobe, piano, etc, just as a manuscript becomes something greater than simply a text to read.

There lies the bridge between art and craft, as while “art” is created for the sake of contemplation, “crafts” have a meaning beyond their functional purpose, transforming an object into a thing to be contemplated. This isn’t a perfect delineation of the difference between art and craft, but I hope it’s a new perspective to contemplate. Likewise I hope that more artists become inspired by Burne-Jones’ work, just as he was inspired by Morris’. The world always needs more textiles, stained glass, and wacky furniture.

Dale Chihuly- A Sidenote

Glory

As I headed for the exit after my visit with Turner and Constable, I happened to glance up, into the great dome of the V&A, and I was immediately glad that I had. A great blue and green glass chandelier loomed above, its organic tendrils reaching out and touching my memory.

I sent a quick picture to my mother, who informed me that the artist is Dale Chihuly, whose work I’d looked at a thousand times in my hometown museum, The Art Museum of South Texas. Everyone in town knows Chihuly’s glass, in part because it was on the museum’s promotional ads for many years, and as children, we all took our turns looking in awe at Blue Cascade, which I’ve always considered a small divinity.

chihuly
Blue Cascade, 1999 Credit: Corpus Christi Caller Times

 

However, when I looked up and saw the V&A rotunda chandelier, Blue Cascade became a mere anemone in the face of an entire reef. I had to make sure my memory did not deceive me, so I looked into the Art Museum of South Texas’ digital archives, only to come up with nothing. Sadly, the website doesn’t appear to have more than 100 or so works online, which is a real shame, particularly in this case.

I love Blue Cascade, and I love Dale Chihuly’s glass. From the Art Museum of South Texas, you can see the ocean, the Harbor Bridge, and pelicans floating on the sea’s surface. Underneath is the fish, the plants, and often, the glass. Broken bottles beat against the sand and the rocks until frosted, smooth, and safe to collect, which is just what my mother and I would do when I was a bit younger.

Glass and water have a special relationship as things that shine, refract, and hold one another. The glass may be full of water, but one look into the ocean and you’ll see that the water is also full of glass.

Chihuly’s work incorporates space, color, light, and the most whimsical forms. Like most art, his work is transformative, from sand to glass, and glass to art. Shadows and reflections cast onto walls and ceilings elevate Chihuly’s art even further, and so I must say that if you ever get the chance to see his work in person, DO IT! Without a second thought. Pictures simply can’t do it justice.

East Cowes Castle; The Regatta Starting for their Moorings, J.M.W. Turner, 1827-1828

J. M. W. Turner — Oh My God

Glory

When visiting the Victoria and Albert Museum to view the works of John Constable and J.M.W. Turner, there was clear favoritism that developed as I viewed the works of both artists. Don’t get me wrong– Constable’s more expressive works drew me in, as did the billowing clouds that populate so many of his revolutionary landscapes. It’s a bit difficult to look away once you’ve begun looking, to say the least!

That being said, when it came to Turner’s work, I could spend a thousand lifetimes living and dying in front of them– and that’s putting it lightly. The work which captured my attention most readily was the seascape of East Cowes Castle, a location which one can’t help but feel Turner had frequented.

However, when looking at Turner’s body of work, it quickly becomes clear that the magic and genius of it lies not in his locations, but in the lighting of his pieces. I initially attributed the brightness of Turner’s sun to his potential use of lead white, which many other artists of the era would have been fond of. (It’s said to be beyond replication in its glowing brightness, after all.) However, that alone cannot elevate a piece to inspire fixation as Turner’s does.

Rather it lies in his depiction of the sun, not as a cool, still dot, but as a collection of rays, waves, ellipses, etc. Turner understood, just as others during his time were beginning to understand, that the sun is not observed by the human eye as a particular shape, rather, as beams of light collecting and reflecting. As we can see, this realization served Turner well. While East Cowes Castle is not particularly sublime in nature, we are able to see this concept in Turner’s larger body of work. Sublimity is associated with grand awe or terror in the face of the natural world. This can be seen in Turner’s Snow Storm, which is a bit more expressive and conveys the sheer force of nature over man’s often futile endeavors. In his portrayal of this scene, he achieves the sublime to some degree.

Also tying in nature, there are two suns in the East Cowes Castle, The Regatta starting for their Moorings piece, one in the sky, and one reflected in the gentle waves of what is presumably the River Medina. The light spreads from the point that represents the sun, and reflects onto the landscape, sailboats, and the absolute swarm of people on the banks of the river. The people and boats stand out twofold in their warm beigey, browny tan-ness, and in the darkness that stands in contrast to the cool pale sky and bright sun. It invokes the feeling of a cool wind that blows in from the sea on an otherwise humidly tepid day. As a child of a city on the sea, I must say I like it.

Much of the paint was cracked upon viewing Turner’s pieces in person, which makes one wonder whether they cracked 150 years ago due to the sheer thickness of paint that Turner applied, or if the 150 years since the scene was first rendered have been unkind to Turner’s art. Regardless I pray that his art remains in the many free galleries of London, a city so often overcast, as a source of sunshine on an otherwise dreary day. His work is just as intended, and achieves what so many artists of his day yearned to be.

Introduction of the Artist as a Young Man

Glory

My name is Glory, and I’m a full-time student and part-time artist. I study Art Education and Public History at St. Mary’s University in San Antonio, Texas. A long chain of events involving effort, luck, and substantial assistance has led me to study in London for the duration of 2019’s Spring semester. It still doesn’t feel like reality!

I aim to write critically about art and public history, though more likely art AS public history. Every piece of art acts as a microcosm of the time period in which it was created, and additionally provides a glimpse of the artist’s world within and without.

As such, I’ve created a “museum wish list” to act as a companion/supplement to my course-directed studies, and hopefully broaden my experience of museums and art while I have the chance to explore one of the most culturally rich places in the world.

cadavre exquis
“Cadavre Exquis” 2016

 

I am an artist, aside from being a newbie on the academic scene, and I hope it flavors my content with an interesting perspective on the great works I’ll be witnessing this spring. The art attached to this post is my own,

and I hope to improve my own skill and knowledge while I’m abroad through the understanding of art mechanics– hopefully facilitated by increased gallery time. Though it began as a hobby, I hope my investment in art as a fundamental part of the human experience can be conveyed through each new post– this one is just the beginning!