St Martin in the Bullring I

    In the morning before the concert we had a wander around the city centre - we headed sw from the hotel to St Martin's church in the Bullring, and in doing so we left the new glitzy city of Selfridges and Harvey Nichols and entered another, older city, the other Birmingham. 

     St Martin's is the mother church of the city.  It stands just above the valley floor of the River Rea.  Yes, Birmingham has a river.  Actually, one of several of the blink-and-you-miss-it variety.  The spire, for all its blunt hard-faced competition, remains a city landmark.

    From most angles the church appears, apart from the tower and spire, low and squat - rather bunker-like from some directions.  What the visitor sees today is a nineteenth century rebuild of the original.  The only original structure left is the inside of the tower.  The rebuilt church is largely the work of the architect J A Chatwin (1830-1907) whose work we have encountered before on this blog.  (He was, you may remember, the great grandfather of the novelist & travel writer Bruce Chatwin.) Hammered dressed masonry, and rich Dec period detailing in a rather Lincolnshire manner.* All rather solid and prosperous looking.  No expense spared.  Slightly contrasting use of Derbyshire and Grinshill stone - the latter from Shrewsbury. Both sandstone, with one used for the walls and the other for the details, my guess is that they were chosen in preference over the local, and friable, New Red Sandstone, for their resilience in the smoky atmosphere of the 19th city.  Chatwin seemingly had a lot of fun with gargoyles etc.  I don't know who designed the ironwork on the great w door, but it is splendid.  All pomegranates and foliage in the Arts and Crafts tradition.  The church was damaged in the war and restored in the mid-fifties.

     Sadly, the church was locked.  I have been in some years ago and all I can recall is that the interior was a lot less solid than the exterior would lead you to believe.  On the s side are a series of service buildings - church hall, vestries etc - built over the churchyard;** to the e the earlier stuff in a rather Arts and Crafts manner by the next generation of Chatwin architects, Philip and Anthony Chatwin (1873-1964); and to the w Modernist (prob 1970/80s, but actually 2002-3 by the firm APEC) - a sort of reinterpretation of Ye Olde England.  The latter looked as though it were in need some attention if only from a window cleaner.  The whole area is somewhat shabby with people sleeping rough around the church.  At times I felt I was intruding.

     Beyond the church is the market.  It was like stepping back into the 1970s.  In all a long way from Selfridges.

*    Chatwin's rebuilding took its stylistic cues from P C Hardwick's restoration of the tower in the early 1850s, when  original Dec details had been found during the course of the work. The use of hammer dressed masonry, however, was Hardwick's own contribution.

**  There is a tiny strip of churchyard to the north of the church.  And although it is a small remnant of the what was once there it is a welcome sight there being so little greenery in that part of the city.

Sibelius in Birmingham

  For an instant God opens His door and His orchestra plays the Fifth Symphony

    A return visit to Birmingham mid-week, a chance to see family and, of a birthday treat a return to the Symphony Hall and the CBSO.  The matinée concert consisted of three works: 'Threnody (in memory of Jean Sibelius)' by Grant William Still, Piano Concerto no2 by Prokofiev and, after the interval, Sibelius's mighty 5th Symphony. A cracking afternoon it was, with the CBSO in fine form under conductor Jonathon Heyward.  The soloist in Prokofiev's fiery 2nd piano concerto was the Korean Yeol Eum Son.  It was a dazzling performance of what, to me, sounded a virtuoso piece.  A work that swings, violently at times, between Romanticism and Modernity.  It was all very Russian; the influence of Mussorgsky evident, the Rachmaninov less so.  (Though apparently it is there.)

     And then the Sibelius.  This I have to say is one of my favourite pieces of music.  One that holds a special place in my imaginative and emotional life, as I suspect it does for many people.  For Sibelius himself the composition took on a mystical aspect, as the quote at the beginning of this post demonstrates.  As he wrote in his diary (21.05.1915) 'Today at ten to eleven I saw 16 swans.  One of my greatest experiences!  God, how beautiful....nature mysticism and the pain of life!  The finale of the fifth symphony.....ligature in the trumpets!!  This had to happen to me, who has been an outsider for too long.  So I've been in a holy place today.'  He is writing here of the great 'swan theme' or 'swan hymn' of the final movement, the moment the whole symphony has been building to, the moment of integration. 

     This was the first time I have the symphony heard it live, and I was not in any way disappointed.  A bright, sparky performance, I can't pick out any moments in particular as the whole thing was so immersive, rather like floating down a rapidly moving river, however I do remember how the finale was noticeably brighter and tighter than some recordings which tend to emphasize the 'pain of life' aspect.  This finale, in this performance, was radiant, triumphant with 'nature mysticism'.  

     I think I will end this review with another quotation from Sibelius: 'Music is, for me, like a beautiful mosaic which God has put together. He takes all the pieces in his hand, throws them into the world, and we have to recreate the picture from the pieces.'

The Habitat Catalogue VI: 1988

      I had bought this, the 1988 edition of the Habitat catalogue, because I was looking for the Arts and Crafts fabric range that Habitat produced in that year in collaboration with the V&A.  The aptly named 'V&A Collection'.  I'm really intrigued by this collection (which also I have discovered, as of 7.10.24, also included ceramics) as it revived designs by Arts and Crafts masters such as C F A Voysey.  Images of these designs are available on the V&A website but information there and elsewhere is quite scarce.  There are any number of Habitat fabrics dating from 1988 on the museum website which therefore, I presume, formed part of the collaboration but only about half a dozen are obviously 'Arts and Crafts'.  If sales of second-hand curtains on eBay are anything to go by, the designs 'Madura Tree' and 'Madura Leaf' were the most popular patterns.  The two Voysey fabrics, 'The House that Jack built' and 'Alice' both designed for children, included in the collection are almost as popular, but other designs such as 'Hemlock' are yet to appear.  Maybe the name was off putting.

     The first sentence I typed here when thinking about writing this post was: 'It is as though something has crawled into a corner and quietly died', and there is no ignoring the fact that looking through this catalogue in the days after it arrived was a disappointing experience.  Not only were the hoped for Arts and Crafts fabrics not featured, but something quite vital had indeed died.  Images too small, the submergence of everything in a gloop of sleekness.  Everything is bland and just a little corporate - I'm not sure whether this just a reflection of the wider culture, or of the internal machinations of the company. Then there is the absence of texture. Gone too are those little articles that, perhaps, set the Habitat catalogue apart from its competitors.  There is an almost unnerving sense of claustrophobia - the 1988 catalogue is a very introverted product caught up in its own 'materiality'; the room sets more enclosed, arid; there are less items on view that are unavailable to but at Habitat.  The items that suggested the life of owner of the room.  In addition, majority of the photographs are far too small, and to be honest, I found it difficult to find suitable content to photograph for this blog.  Looking back at the distance of a fortnight, however, most telling thing, and not a first glance that noticeable, is the absence of the introductory letter from Terence Conran himself.  
     Since then, I have somewhat modified my attitude.  The older Habitat is still there.  There are some good design to be found - lovely glass wear, cutlery and kitchenware.  There is a whole plethora of good fabrics designed by Collier Campbell, some of which may have been designed back in the 1970s.  Yet because of the design of the catalogue all these good things have to be actively searched for.

     (All the patterned fabric below is, I believe, by Collier Campbell.)

     

St Michael, Clyro

      Of all noxious animals, too, the worst is a tourist.  And of all tourists the most vulgar, ill-bred, offensive and loathsome is the British tourist.

     To Hay-on-Wye on Thursday (only four books bought).  Thursday chosen because it was market day - always the best day for visiting a country market town.  On the way back home, we made a small detour to Clyro, just over the Wye from Hay and at the very south east tip of old Radnorshire.  My interest was sparked a couple of years ago by watching, on YouTube, a documentary made for the BBC by Sir John Betjeman on the 19th century clergyman and diarist Francis Kilvert.  'Vicar of the Parish' was made in 1975/6 (broadcast Thursday 29th July '76), directed by Patrick Garland and produced, for BBC Wales, by Derek Trimby.  It has a wonderful melancholic air, and good use is made of the 'Sea Slumber Song' from Elgar's 'Sea Pictures'.  There is, sadly, evidence of Betjeman's increasing Parkinson's Disease; he spends most of the time in front of the camera sitting down.

     Francis Kilvert, born 1840 in Wiltshire, came to Clyro in 1865 as curate.  He stayed until 1871, when he returned to Wiltshire before returning to the Marches in 1876 to the living of St Hamon in Radnorshire. From 1877 until his death two years later he was vicar of Bredwardine over the border in Herefordshire. His diaries, started in 1870 and continued until his death, open a window onto rural provincial life in the 1870s.

     And so, to the church.  It stands in the midst of a large graveyard.  All that remains of the Medieval structure is the study w tower - belfry stage added 1897.  The rest of the church was rebuilt in the 1850s by the Hereford architect Thomas Nicholson (1823-1895).  Chancel and nave with north aisle.  Decorated detailing. Local rubble stone with bath stone (?) dressings.  Betjeman sometimes wondered if Victorian churches would ever 'soften'; judging by St Michaels perhaps not.  The interior, with the exception of the chancel is light-filled and not at all bad, though on the dull side.  There are few furnishings of note.  Lavish funerary monuments in graveyard.

The Habitat Catalogue V: 1981/2

     So here I am with yet another vintage Habitat catalogue.  This time from 1981.  A rather jaunty cover, mainly blue and yellow, busier than before with just a smidge of vulgarity.  The aesthetic has changed - more sharper and hard-edged, less homely.  That change detected in the 1978 edition continues to grow.  It could be said however that the covers are at variance with catalogue interior, which tells a slightly different story, in that it is more evenly balanced between the new hard style and the old 'humanism'.  In fact, some of the images, say of the 'Arbour' bedroom range, look like they've been used in earlier editions, however the presence of a new wallpaper range 'Kandi' on the wall shows that the image was taken specifically for the 1981/2 edition. Habitat as evolutionary, and perhaps even conservative.  As for the eclecticism of earlier catalogues, apart from the lighting, Art Deco Revival has disappeared, as have the Liberty prints, but the Laura Ashley inspired 'ditzy' print 'Tangleweed' remains.  Brown is on the way out and there is an increase of bright primary colours and pastels, with mixed results.  The best of the new fabrics is 'Fleur des Champs', but all the other new fabrics are discarded by the time of the 1985 catalogue.  There are no Collier Campbell fabrics in this edition.
     One of the delights of the Habitat catalogue are the little extras in the way of articles.  This edition has four written by members of the Conran stable such as Stephen Bayley* (Bauhaus furniture), and Antonio Carluccio (Italian cooking).  I guess, in a way, it makes Conran seem like Henri Gautier Villars.

     Several of the new style home sets, it has to be said, are really quite awful. The worst is the room created by Stafford Cliff; perhaps not bad in itself, but hardly domestic.  More suitable for a commercial space. Born in Australia, Cliff, I should remind you at this point, had been the Art Director of the Habitat Catalogue for 10 years from 1971; this then could be either his final catalogue, or the first without him.  I know that this is tantamount to heresy, but I'm that not that impressed with the room set designed by Terence Conran either.  It just seems a bit tired.  The work of a man with a busy schedule and little time to spare. But then, I suppose, Habitat seems to have quite the history of bad design**, in the same way it was quite good at simulacra.  Anyway, the good....

The bad....

 And the strange....

*  Described once as 'Robin to Conran's Batman'

** For example, pattern design, which, on what ever surface, was always a bit of a weakness.

The Mechanics Institution, Neath

      To Neath Great Fair on Wednesday.  Soft, almost wistful, sunshine and the streets of the town centre full of stalls and people.  The founding charter was granted in 1280 by Gilbert De Clare, making the oldest Charter Fair in Wales.  At one point it was one of nine fairs held in the town annually.  As you might have guessed it is the sort of event I approve of, however it has, perhaps, seen better days.  We went home after an hour

     It was my first visit to the town and I must say I was pleasantly surprised though the place is in need of some tlc.  Its bones, however, are good, and it is certainly pleasanter than the centre of Swansea.  There is enough to draw me back.  Nestling in the quiet enclave of Church Place we found this rather fine example of Victorian Classicism:  The Mechanics Institution of 1847.  Alfred Russell Wallace was the architect. It is still in the Georgian tradition, yet the detailing, which has a curious flatness to it, has a freedom that would have not been tolerated back in the day.  Interesting play between textured wall and smooth mouldings.  It is now the office of the local civic society.

Own work: The Temple of Bacchus, Stowe

     Of late I've been rather interested in garden structures, such as follies and banqueting houses, and, slightly tangential, to that the influence English garden structures, such as those by Vanbrugh and Kent had on French Neo-classicists such as Claude-Nicholas Ledoux.  I'm particularly drawn to the over-scaled and dramatic architecture of Sir John Vanbrugh.

     Here is my interpretation of a now lost building by Vanbrugh - The Temple of Bacchus that once stood in the gardens at Stowe, in Buckinghamshire.  It was built in 1719 for Viscount Cobham and survived until the 1920s when it was demolished for the school chapel designed by Sir Robert Lorimer.  
     I accidentally discovered a photographic illustration of the temple in a book in the horticultural library at Aberglasney.  It was my first I encounter with the building and I was very intrigued - it had drama and heft.  A quality of presence and mystery.  It was, I thought, a suitable subject for a painting, but could find very few other illustrations of the temple? and those were of poor quality or too small.  However I wasn't to be deterred, and so here then, based on those meagre resources, is my evocation of a lost part of our architectural history, our patrimony.  Mixed media, 23 x 46 cms.