'Y Cymru Ramantaidd'

     To Carmarthen yesterday and the former palace of the Bishops of St David's at Abergwilli, now the Carmarthenshire Museum. We were there to visit the 'Romantic Wales' exhibition - 'Y Cymru Ramantaidd'.  And quite the little treasure trove it was.  There were works by Turner (obviously), Samuel Palmer, and David Cox; John Nash, Graham Sutherland, and John Piper.  I was much taken with two of the works by Piper: Llanthony Abbey of 1941, and Grongar Hill of 1942.  'A Welsh Funeral, Betwys y Coed', of 1847-50, by David Cox was rather a revelation in terms of technique; vibrant brushwork, almost Impressionist.  And then there was Turner's 'Tintern Abbey' 0f 1792, watercolour on paper with graphite underdrawing.  Masterly.
     My favourite, however, was Samuel Palmer's sensuous oil painting of 1835-6. 'Pistyll Mawddach'.  I think Samuel Palmer must be one of my favourite artists.

     The palace dates back to the Middle Ages, and went through various vicissitudes Post-Reformation.  In 1904 it suffered a fire and was subsequently restored by the Arts and Crafts architect W D Caroe (1857-1938).  The 'Buildings of Wales' implies that he played with fast and loose with the extant historical details on the exterior.  He is responsible for acres of roughcast.  The interior is interesting, if rather institutional; the best room is the chapel which, although over pewed, has some very good detailing.  Not a room designed, though, for ritual.

Kettle's Yard

     "I thought we'd make our way to Kettle's Yard, if that's alright."
     "I was hoping you'd say that."

     Well, not exactly a verbatim transcript of our conversation on Tuesday morning as we were leaving 'Hot Numbers Coffee' on Trumpington St. And that's about it - if you've read this blog before you will know all about Kettle's Yard and why it is so unbelievably special - on with the photographs!!!

St Edward, King and Martyr, Cambridge I

     Tucked away, in the remaining warp and weft of the Medieval city, stands St Edward's church, midway betwixt St Benet and Great St Mary.  From King's Parade you enter a narrow, atmospheric alley between shops - St Edward's Passage.  In a short while you emerge in a small urban space, quite picturesque, almost village-y.  Sadly that atmosphere is not maintained at the e end, where the massive Guild Hall looms over all.

     St Edward's, is itself a rather village-y affair, humble with an interesting mix of materials particularly the use of plaster, which here and elsewhere in se England suggests the 18th & early 19th century.  There is a slim w tower, short nave (no clearstory), and chancel with two large chapels that were built to serve two of the University colleges - Trinity Hall on the N & Clare College on the S.*  They were apparently constructed post 1446, though the s chapel, if I didn't know better, looks entirely Dec to me (Yes, I know the tracery is probably 19th century or later).  It reminds me somehow of the s elevation of the chancel of St Benedict in Lincoln, although they are in fact completely different designs.   I can't help feel the design would be improved by a high pitched roof.  Wide, flat e end; e window by Sir George Gilbert Scott.  The church has been rather harshly restored at some point in the 19th century, probably by Brandon.  The west window and door are particularly regrettable.  I think Sir Albert Richardson worked here in the 20th century.

    A long time ago, when we were teenagers, a friend and I worshiped in this church one Sunday morning, sitting behind two elderly ladies, one of whom spent the whole service loudly criticizing the priest.

* Reginald of Ely, the first master mason of King's College chapel, has been suggested as the designer of these chapels, but the evidence is flimsy.  Firstly there is the question of the window in the s chapel.  It is supposed to be like Ely's tracery at King's College Chapel, but I can't see it.  Secondly, how can we trust the current tracery anyway?  If it was Ely's work it would be incredibly anachronistic.  Nearly a hundred years out of date.

Great St Mary, Cambridge I

     I am in Cambridge. Here for three days.  I arrived yesterday after a 'trying' journey from the Infernal City, and I am staying in the serene St Catherine's College on Trumpington St.  My room is very close to the chapel and inside, at the moment, a choir is practicing.  In less than half an hour the college clock will strike the hour.

     This morning, earlier, before I had to be at the station to meet a friend, I went to Great St Mary to take some photographs for the blog. Sadly you will have to wait until a day or so for some pictures of the interior as there was some sort of conference going on.  This large church, which I described in a previous post as Anglican establishment, being both the civic and University church, and the sort of church where ambitious incumbents pass through on the way to deaneries and bishoprics.  Appropriately enough, it stands poised between 'Market Hill' and 'Senate House Hill', the academic centre of the University.  It is built of stone (rubble and ashlar) and some brick.  The stone will have come across the Fens from the quarries of the Limestone Belt, such a Barnack and Ketton.  It is a Late Gothic basilican plan church with square ended chancel and side chapels; an ostentatious display of the mercantile wealth and piety of the city* and the prestige of the University.  A proud building rather like the other great burghal churches of E Anglia and Essex, such as Lavenham and Saffron Walden.  Rubble walled aisles contrasting with sophisticated ashlar clearstory.  No n porch, but on the s side there are the rood loft stairs and a south porch which looks entirely Victorian.  Apparently, it is a copy of the Medieval original. The base of the w tower is of the same period as the church but the top story and battlements are Post-Reformation.  It is surrounded by a small graveyard, but, I believe, it was once hemmed in by buildings to the e.  Below the e window is the Boer War Memorial, cast bronze in a Gothic frame.  Restorations by Essex, Salvin, and George Gilbert Scott.

* Cambridge was than a mercantile city plugged in, via King's Lynn, to an international trade network across northern Europe as far east as the Baltic.

A Night of Extremes: 'Toomorrow'

     I have, for the past few years, been on a quest to find the definitive and positive cinematic depiction of Swinging London, and I have come to the conclusion that that search is essentially futile.  Such a depiction simply does not exist.  The best films, cinematically, are, at the very least, ambivalent, if not sharply critical.  Of the others, the not so good, 'Otley' makes a fair stab at things, but the 'Swinging London' setting is perhaps coincidental.

     On Wednesday, after a day in Cardiff, we made another fruitless attempt.  We watched 'Toomorrow', 1970, directed by Val Guest, who called the film 'the first space musical'.  Harry Saltzman and pop impresario Don Krishner were the producers.  Val Guest wrote the screenplay.  The result is simply dreadful.  It even fails to have any camp appeal.  A fledgling pop-group, the terminally twee 'Toomorrow' (assembled Krisher), are abducted by aliens who need their oomph restored, but judging by the lackluster acting the band may not have had that much oomph to spare.
     Apart from a groovy spaceship, the best bits are: an early film performance by Olivia Newton John, and the appearance of Margaret Nolan as the alien 'Johnson'.  Hers is quite the best performance, as the film briefly transforms into a 70s sex comedy.  Sadly, Olivia Newton John has her wings clipped throughout. And what those two fine actors Roy Dotrice and Roy Marsden are doing in this car crash heaven knows.

     The finale of 'Toomorrow' was shot in the The Round House, a vast former railway shed in north London, used then, as now, as an events venue.  Included in the DVD extras is a 1969 recording of a performance of 'I could Turn on You' in the Round House by the American theatre troupe 'The Living Theatre'.  Dreadful, but of a completely different magnitude.

Toomorrow

1970

Producer:               Harry Saltzman, Don Krishner

Director:                 Val Guest

Cinematographer: Dick Bush

Joanna Crawford

 

     A few minutes ago I heard of the death of Joanna Crawford.  The name will probably mean little, or nothing to you, but she was one of the best art teachers I have encountered.  She taught Life Drawing at Stamford Art Centre on Thursday morning, until Lockdown struck.  Her classes were invariably full, with people travelling some distance to attend.  She was shrewd and preceptive, perhaps a little daunting, and she managed to draw out the best from us, no matter our level of skill.

      I know little of her life, except I believe she was born in Poland, possibly of German extraction.  She taught 'the rude soldiery' of the British Army at some point, and had a china shop in Stamford, and in retirement she taught life drawing.  

     Moving here, I missed the her and the life drawing classes immensely.

Currently reading.....

     This arrived in the post yesterday.  The final instalment of Anthony Powell's great, patrician novel sequence 'A Dance to the Music of Time'.  I've been reading them on and off for years with varying levels of enthusiasm.  The first three novels in particular are slow going.  Things, however, pick up with 'At Lady Mollys'.  I am currently reading the penultimate novel 'Temporary Gods', set in Venice and London. 

     A quick word about the front covers.  'A Dance to the Music of Time' has had various cover designs in its time.  However, two series stand out.  The first is that designed by Osbert Lancaster (1908-1986) for Penguin in the 1960s.  Lancaster, writer, illustrator, cartoonist, and designer for the stage, (largely self-taught) was a friend of Powell and the 2nd novel in the sequence, 'A Buyer's Market', is dedicated to Lancaster and his first wife Karen.  Powell described him thus: 'bristling moustache, check suits, shirt and tie in bold tints'.  Lancaster had a reputation as a dandy.  His austere pen and ink drawings give a good sense of 'British Mid-century Frugal'. A feeling of anomie pervades.

     Later editions such as this - the Fontana Books edition of 1977 - are the work of Mark Boxer (1931-1988) the magazine editor, illustrator, and cartoonist (completely self-taught).  As remarked, I think, on Wiki, Lancaster provided the locations, and Boxer the characters in the form of cartoons.  Vigorous, characterful and enviably confident.  As you can see above.