Augustus Leopold Egg (1816-1863) is a minor British Victorian era artist known most for his tryptic, Past and Present, depicting the breakup of the traditional Victorian family. This is worth a post in itself so I will save it for a later date. Travelling Companions was painted towards the end of his life. I think it is a terribly prescient work of art and so look forward to discussing it with/at you.
August Egg was at pain to combine popularity with moral and social activism in his paintings which was similar to how his friend, the writer Charles Dickens managed to do with his novels. Egg and Dickens became great friends and jointly founded the “Guild of Literature and Art”, which was a philanthropic organisation which provided welfare payments to struggling artists and writers.
Egg’s early works of art were mainly illustrations of literary subjects as well as historical incidents taken from the accounts of the seventeenth century diarist, Samuel Pepys. He also showed great interest in Hogarth’s narrative works, which often had a moral theme such as Marriage à la Mode and The Rake’s Progress and it was probably these works that inspired Egg to complete his moral narrative painting, The Life and Death of Buckingham. My Daily Art Display
Would you believe this painting can be found at the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery and will be the first piece I seek when returning there once it is safe to do so. One can see Menton, near Monte Carlo on the French Riviera (a popular Victorian holiday destination) outside the window. The two companions are perhaps headed hither for their holibobs. One can discern they are heading to the town from the direction the tassel in the window is swaying.
My highlights include the magnificent silk or satin dresses, billowing between them in the cramped first class carriage. The light depiction is superlative and the representation of the folds of the fabric are truly masterful. The same lauding can be applied to both of their flowing hair which looks silky and soft. I am also impressed by the black fringe adoring the seam of the sleeves. There is also a detail on the reading girl’s hands which is notable, she is wearing teal leather gloves. Remember everything in a painting is a choice by the painter. I wonder why he chose a leather glove? Did Michael Jackson take inspiration from Leopold Egg? I think not.
Leopold Egg as Depicted by Richard Dadd (not the originator of the Dadd bod)
There are many interpretations of this piece on account of Egg’s previous works containing hidden suggestions of morality. These two could either be sisters or different aspects of the same woman, or indeed different women wearing the same frock. Some believe the waking woman is the product of the sleeping one – as in the projected version of the sleeping one. The sleeping woman may well be dreaming of herself on the train, reading! Another reading is that Egg is shunning those who sleep on trains, showing those who are more proactive to be superior.
My interpretation is more along the lines of this latter one, though I would shy away from describing literary pursuits as superior. I would say the message is that neither party are superior to the other because they are both ignoring each other and perhaps ought to engage in conversation, sharing something so that they both might garner a new perspective and become more well rounded. This is my interpretation: a critique of those not living in the moment.
Overall I think it is a gorgeous painting which displays Egg’s manifold talents. I am glad to have been able to discuss this with you today and hope you enjoyed this post as much as I did composing it.
Have you ever asked yourself the question; is there such a thing as artful violence? John Wick answers this violently in the affirmative. Perhaps I am late to the party reviewing this film, but I was so astounded by John Wick that I could not but extol its virtues. Directed by Chad Stahelski and David Leitch (the former being Reeves’ stunt double in the Matrix), this film offers excitement, excellent acting and explosive beautifully co-ordinated fight scenes.
There are, broadly speaking, two ways to go when it comes to fight sequences. The first is to bust a few moves then use lively camerawork and quick edits to make an indifferent pugilist look like The Grandmaster. The more challenging route is to choreograph an extended sequence, sit back, frame a nice wide shot and let the actor carry the can. Given that first-time directors Stahelski and Leitch are both veteran stunt co-ordinators, that fact that they opt for door number two is not surprising. The assured proficiency with which they conduct John Wick’s symphony of gunplay, however, is. Empire
Interestingly, while both Stahelski and Leitch directed this film, the latter is credited as a producer due to MPA regulations only allowing one director. (It may well be another regulatory body but the point is the same).
In terms of plot, John Wick tells the story of an ex-assassin whose wife passed away and sent him a puppy in lieu of marriage. No, in seriousness, Iosef Tarasov (Alfie Allen), son of mobster Viggo Tarasov (Ian McShane), decides he likes the look of John Wick’s 1969 Mustang. He asks Wick his price “у каждой суки есть цена” to which Wick replies “не эта сука”. I’ll let you translate for yourselves. Iosef, not content to take не эта сука for an answer, decided to storm John Wick’s house, beat him up, murder his new puppy and steal the Mustang. Iosef did not bet on Mr Wick being an ex associate of his father’s and merciless killing machine.
From the use of colour and music to the scenery-chomping by supporting players Willem Dafoe and Ian McShane, these are guys bursting with a love for genre cinema but aren’t too enslaved by affection to let in a little air. There’s a wonderful free spirit with the use of New York City locations that ditches verisimilitude for storytelling. The Surrogates’ Courthouse downtown is actually a Bosch-ian dance club with an interior of Scarface-esque hot tubs? Who in their right mind would disagree! Guardian
Overall I liked this film because it was mindless violence, portrayed beautifully and with some heart. One could look at this film as a vengeance tale for a small puppy, but I see it as a well-crafted ode to the beauty of vengeful violence. Every move in every fight scene is beautifully choreographed and seamlessly executed by Reeves, a veteran of the action movie genre. The plot is hearty and there are some wonderful scenes, most notably in the Red Circle club. I do so hope you will enjoy John Wick, allow him to transport you to a world of wonderful violence, far removed from the current agony in which we find ourselves.
Gertrude Abercrombie (1909-1977) was an American surrealist artist, whose works denoted sparsely furnished interiors, barren landscapes, self-portraits, and still-lifes. Based in Chicago, she was known as the ‘Queen of the Bohemian artists”. Abercrombie was involved in the Chicago jazz scene and was friends with musicians such as Dizzy Gillespie, Charlie Parker, and Sarah Vaughan, whose music inspired her own creative work (Warren, Lynn, Art in Chicago 1945-1995, Thames & Hudson, 1996)
Abercrombie with Dizzy Gillespie, 1964
It should be noted that Abercrombie was a fan of René François Ghislain Magritte, on whom I will likely do a piece in the coming weeks. Let us now look at Coming Home (below).
Getrude herself was a tall woman who considered herself ugly and witch like. She would frequently accentuate her tallness by wearing a wide brimmed velvet hat and would delight in people recoiling in horror at her (Weininger and Smith 1991, p. 19.). She admitted that the women in her paintings are invariably the artist herself. Coming Home is an eery piece. Every detail of it is quite eery in fact. Observe the diamond shaped clouds, the three pointed roof peals, the dilapidated state of the paint around the house. The windows seem grubby also. I also love the creepy twisting tree at the left of the painting. All of these details add up to a wonderfully creepy painting about what seems to be a witch coming back to her far away home. Where is she coming from? What is in her red briefcase? Why are the ground floor windows so long?
By the 1940s, Abercrombie had developed a lexicon of motifs with cryptically autobiographical significance that would recur in her paintings throughout the rest of her career: shells, eggs, black cats, doors, bowls of fruit, Victorian furniture, moonlit landscapes. In Untitled (Blue Screen, Black Cat, Print of Same),1945, a blue folding screen and a black cat stand in a nearly empty room; the scene is doubled in the painting-within-a-painting hanging on the room’s wall, resulting in a bizarre mise en abyme. ArtNews
This piece was came to my attention following a major Art Forgery ring bust by the FBI recently. DB Henkels’ home was raided and numerous suspected forgeries were found, including this marvellous piece by George Copeland Ault titled Morning In Brooklyn 1929. I just wanted to bring this to your attention because I find it absolutely wonderful. Ault was a Precisionist painter, like his contemporaries Charles Sheeler and Ralston Crawford (the latter’s work was also forged in the FBI bust). I love everything about this painting. I love the sharp angles, the half shut windows, the gorgeous motor, the changing height and colours of the buildings – this is a throughly joyous painting. Look at the sky detail also!
In summation, I hope these two paintings have brought you some small joy. They are perhaps simpler and less detail than the impressionist masterpieces of the late 19th century which I review more frequently but these are no less enjoyable. I am experiencing a sort of modern art explosion of late and am grateful to be able to share this with you, dear readers.
There are very few albums which give me pause. There are fewer which make me stop everything and recognise instinctively that I have discovered Album of the Month. Brian Davison’s Every Which Way is one such album. How did I alight upon such an album? The story is quite ordinary I assure you. I went for a walk to the closest piece of green on the map to me (the perils of city centre living include not much fresh air). On our way back from Calthorpe Park (established 1857, don’t you know) I spotted the Diskery. Now, being someone who is inwardly wary of shocking colour combinations, I never thought much of it in the past. But when I went in, I was amazed by the sheer variety of vinyl available. And you’ll never guess what was playing on the shop stereo at the time…
Bass Guitar – Alan Cartwright
Drums, Percussion – Brian Davison
Electric Piano, Acoustic Guitar, Lead Vocals – Graham Bell
Engineer – Malcolm Toft, Roy Baker
Lead Guitar – John Hedley
Painting [Cover] – Nan Cuz
Producer – Brian Davison
Reeds, Flute, Backing Vocals – Geoffrey Peach
And so my love affair with Brian Davison’s Every Which Way began. Bear in mind that in these COVID times one is loath to spend too much time in confined indoor spaces outside the home. Therefore I heard only one track from the album but this was enough to activate my spidey senses. More on this later.
The vocals are handled by Graham Bell, who sang for the equally obscure Skip Bifferty and whose voice has the same quality as a young Stevie Winwood: in-tune, soulful shout-style belting. Brian Davison—recently of The Nice until that band fell apart—delivers the kind of percussion work that I don’t often get the pleasure of hearing on hard rock records- nuanced, powerful and engaging, rather than self-indulgent and boring. The rest of the line-up is equally up to the task. The Vinyl Press
The first track, of six, on this wonderful album is Bed Ain’t What It Used To Be. The opening is extraordinary, laying bare the foundation of fantastic talent which would carry through the rest of the album. The opening notes are an example of the extraordinary production which is to follow. The drumming is just sublime. There is a bluesy feel in the guitar playing and the repetition of lyrics to emphasise the sorrow Davison must have felt at the time of writing. Watch out for the saxophone, which is withering at points. The first time I listened to this album in full was directly after hearing Alice Coltrane’s Journey In Satchidananda. The withering, tortured saxophone of Bed Ain’t What It Used to Be followed so well.
Castle Sands is a wonderful contrast to the preceding track. The flute is in direct contrast to the guitar and drum mastery of the previous track which is so surprising. Who expects flutes in prog rock? Jethro Tull almost certainly took inspiration from this. Then again they might not have. Who is to say? There was also a mention of mental health in the lyrics also, which really surprised me. Listen out for the waves crashing at 2.35. Groovy.
Sat and watched the passing day
Where people cried and tried to say
Expression of a different kind
Crying in their mind
Go Placidly is a more up tempo track to lead us into All In Time, which we shall discuss shortly. The sequencing in this album is really stellar. Not lyrically rich but there are some special phrases which stuck out to me. This is the perfect song to precede All in Time.
With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams
It is still a beautiful world
All In Time is the first track I heard of this album while at the Diskery. I maintain this is the standout on the album. A 9-minute anthem, this is epic on a scale reminiscent of The Tale of Brave Ulysses by Cream (listen to Toad for a drumming masterclass) or selected pieces from Spirit’s 12 Dreams of Dr Sardonicus. The ‘Ooh Child’ followed by the drum and guitar combination is masterful. This builds up to a crescendo at 5 minutes where the track really takes off. The saxophone mimicking the guitar is inspired. The abrupt ending is almost rude!
What You Like is a slower track to calm us down after the scale of the previous track. The drums are the highlight for me as well as the insistent whining saxophone which really adds to the track. The saxophone and guitar solos towards the end of the track are on another level.
Finally, The Light is an exemplary ending. The guitar at the beginning is magnificent. Overall in the track, one gets a sense of the extraordinary collective talent that was felt in the first track and indeed throughout the album. The undercurrent of the drums and guitar throughout the track add to the strong drive which propels this track forward.
Overall, Brian Davison’s Every Which Way is an experience best heard. It totally took me by surprise. My three key observations are as follows:
This album is a totally unique, one of a kind collectible.
When considered collectively, the talent displayed by this band is breathtaking.
It is a great shame that Brian Davison Every Which Way made only one album before breaking up.
I hope you enjoy and appreciate this beautiful jewel in the crown of rock history.
Where to begin with Dalí? Salvador Dalí (1904-1989) was a Spanish painter known for his technical skill, visionary craftsmanship and bizarre imagery in his work. He was influenced by Renaissance and Impressionist masters, beginning his early career with a fascination with Cubism. In the late 1920s, Dalí developed a keen interest for surrealism. This interest was introduced in his most famous work, The Persistence of Memory 1931 (below). This is perhaps one of the most famous surrealist paintings of all time. Today, however, we will be looking at a later surrealist offering, the Metamorphosis of Narcissus, 1937.
Dalí’s artistic repertoire included painting, graphic arts, film, sculpture, design and photography, at times in collaboration with other artists. He also wrote fiction, poetry, autobiography, essays and criticism. Wikipedia
Narcissus was a youth of great beauty who loved only himself and broke the hearts of many lovers. The gods punished him by letting him see his own reflection in a pool. He fell in love with it, but discovered he could not embrace it and died of frustration. Relenting, the gods immortalised him as the narcissus (daffodil) flower. Tate Modern
Metamorphosis of Narcissus 1937 Salvador Dalí
This painting for me is quite extraordinary. What an awesome and impressive way to present the story of Narcissus. the left side of the painting shows Narcissus before the fall. The pool is deep and the stare is intense. In the background are a plethora of shapely people, presumably his rejected lovers, lamenting his ignorance of them. There is a little blue in the sky to the top left of the painting.
The second half is the metamorphosed Narcissus, whose transformation happened in the moment. His figure is turned into a limestone sculpture which is holding a seed from which the new Narcissus, the daffodil, will emerge. This spherical object can be interpreted as an egg, seed or bulb, all of which signify new life. This is a pedagogical retelling of the of the myth of Narcissus, while being an illustrated poem and exquisite artwork at the same time. There are so many elements to this piece which draw one’s attention. The emaciated horse-like creature at the bottom right of the painting, the chess board at the top right with the lone nude male figure, turned away and the breadth of the blue sky on the right as compared to the left – all of these command our attention.
Note the third Narcissus figure in the background atop the mountain in the back right.
Dalí also composed a poem published in Éditions surréalistes, which read as follows:
Under the split in the retreating black cloud
the invisible scale of spring
is oscillating
in the fresh April sky.
On the highest mountain,
the god of the snow,
his dazzling head bent over the dizzy space of reflections,
starts melting with desire
in the vertical cataracts of the thaw
annihilating himself loudly among the excremental cries of minerals,
or
between [sic] the silences of mosses
towards the distant mirror of the lake
in which,
the veils of winter having disappeared,
he has newly discovered
the lightning flash
of his faithful image.
There is a subtle implication that Narcissus will fade away into the stone until he disappears. This is indeed a cautionary tale against over indulgence in narcissism.
In the 1930s, he explored a surrealistic method that he defined as paranoiac-critical. It consisted of trying to connect with the subconscious in a sort of paranoia state in order to visualize irrational images and optical illusions and also to perceive a connection between elements that apparently don’t have any. During his time exploring this technique, he painted many of his famous works, like The Persistence of Memory and The Metamorphosis of Narcissus. Study
Dalí described paranoiac critical painting as a “spontaneous method of irrational knowledge, based on the critical-interpretative association of the phenomena of delirium” in The Conquest of the Irrational, published in The Secret Life of Salvador Dalí, New York 1942.
Dalí was also given the opportunity to meet Sigmund Freud, a man he had admired for some 20 years prior to completing the Metamorphosis of Narcissus. He hoped to use the meeting to discuss the psychology of narcissism. He was given the permission to sketch Freud (below).
Despite the memory of this nastiness, and Freud’s general distaste for modern art, he couldn’t help but be impressed with Dali. “Until then,” he wrote to Zweig, “I was inclined to look upon the surrealists… as absolute (let us say 95 percent, like alcohol), cranks. That young Spaniard, however, with his candid and fanatical eyes, and his undeniable technical mastery, has made me reconsider my opinion.” Open Culture
Overall, The Metamorphosis of Narcissus is quite a splendid surrealist piece which explores an ancient myth while bringing to the fore the dangers of narcissism and over indulgence. I hope you have enjoyed these musings as much as I have enjoyed considering this striking piece of art.
