Secrets and Desires
Apr. 26th, 2004 03:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skyringA month ago I dropped Sydney Bookcrosser jubby off outside the National Gallery after a very pleasant early autumn afternoon in Civic. She was going to see The Edwardians exhibition and offered me a ticket that she happened to have spare. Lovely though this would have been, I didn't think my wife would appreciate my going off to see a major exhibition without her!
So today after a bunch of weekends when we had one thing or another to do, we finally went along, spending three and a half hours all told. Some extraordinary works, right from the very first painting a huge picture of King Edward by George Lambert which (naturally) included a glossy brown horse. The exhibition itself was arranged in a series of rooms depicting upper, middle and lower classes respectively.
Dame Nellie Melba was there in that stunning portrait by Bunny, as well as four or five John Singer Sargents, collectively demonstrating his genius as a portraitist. A Whistler or two. There were some extraordinary garments on display, a cape belonging to Melba, plus an afternoon dress in thick silk for a woman with an eighteen inch waist. It beggars the imagination how they could stand it.
Not a watercolour or landscape in the whole thing, mind you - it was all people doing something, and the only choice was the support, whether board or canvas. A few of Conder's insipid silk watercolours, but they hardly count, I detest them so much.
A glorious picture of a negro gardener in a corner of the thrird room - his chocolate skin contrasting with a cream background and the simple dignity of his pose likewise contrasting with the swords and batons and diamonds of the nobs and would-be nobs in the previous rooms.
Four Hugh Ramsays, including one I hadn't seen before, probably because of severe pigment cracking in the dark areas, but that nose broadcast its provenance across the room. Lovely - plus I got to say hello to Hugh's sister Madge in the Australian collection later on.
Some lovely nudes, and I left a tiny book of Anais Nin's erotica in that room. A Penguin mini paperback titled The Model, which wasn't there when I came back for a second go after a cuppa in the cafe downstairs where I left another copy. The third one was left outside underneath the extraordinary pregnant lady.
All told, I enjoyed this exhibition immensely, all the more so because we tagged along with a voluntary guide who enthused about her favorites. A lovely Hilda Rix Nicholas in the last room - the artist's grand-daughter attended the opening night in the very same dress. Some really mouth-watering stuff and it was a privilege to see them all in one spot.
So today after a bunch of weekends when we had one thing or another to do, we finally went along, spending three and a half hours all told. Some extraordinary works, right from the very first painting a huge picture of King Edward by George Lambert which (naturally) included a glossy brown horse. The exhibition itself was arranged in a series of rooms depicting upper, middle and lower classes respectively.
Dame Nellie Melba was there in that stunning portrait by Bunny, as well as four or five John Singer Sargents, collectively demonstrating his genius as a portraitist. A Whistler or two. There were some extraordinary garments on display, a cape belonging to Melba, plus an afternoon dress in thick silk for a woman with an eighteen inch waist. It beggars the imagination how they could stand it.
Not a watercolour or landscape in the whole thing, mind you - it was all people doing something, and the only choice was the support, whether board or canvas. A few of Conder's insipid silk watercolours, but they hardly count, I detest them so much.
A glorious picture of a negro gardener in a corner of the thrird room - his chocolate skin contrasting with a cream background and the simple dignity of his pose likewise contrasting with the swords and batons and diamonds of the nobs and would-be nobs in the previous rooms.
Four Hugh Ramsays, including one I hadn't seen before, probably because of severe pigment cracking in the dark areas, but that nose broadcast its provenance across the room. Lovely - plus I got to say hello to Hugh's sister Madge in the Australian collection later on.
Some lovely nudes, and I left a tiny book of Anais Nin's erotica in that room. A Penguin mini paperback titled The Model, which wasn't there when I came back for a second go after a cuppa in the cafe downstairs where I left another copy. The third one was left outside underneath the extraordinary pregnant lady.
All told, I enjoyed this exhibition immensely, all the more so because we tagged along with a voluntary guide who enthused about her favorites. A lovely Hilda Rix Nicholas in the last room - the artist's grand-daughter attended the opening night in the very same dress. Some really mouth-watering stuff and it was a privilege to see them all in one spot.
