Tuesday, 20 August 2013

Exhibition: Botanicals - Environmental Expressions in Art




Beverley Allen
Musa paradisiaca, Banana flower and fruit, 2002
Watercolour on paper
This exhibition represents one of the finest private collections of contemporary botanical art in North America. Previously exhibited in the US, these fifty-four artworks beautifully document both common and rare and endangered plants with scientific accuracy to highlight the importance of the planet’s biodiversity. The exhibition and accompanying catalogue includes artworks by forty contemporary artists from around the world.  


Regine Hagedorn
Rosa roxburghii 'Plena" (China), 2005, 
Watercolor on paper

 Click here for more information.

For opening times and ticket prices please visit www.kew.org 
or email the gallery at shirleysherwoodgallery@kew.org.


Damodar Lal Gurjar
Opium poppy bunch, 1997
Tempera on paper burnished by the artist

Tuesday, 13 August 2013

Patrick Caulfield - Plants and Flowers

Exhibition at Tate Britain
5 June 1 September 2013


Patrick Caulfield "Study of roses 1976 "

I visited Tate Britain yesterday. It's been a while since I have seen an exhibition in London and after sifting through several Time Out reviews and the like, I decided that it was the Lowry exhibition that appealed to me the most. So I pootled off to Pimlico in the search of some beautiful paintings. The Lowry was indeed a fabulous show - expertly curated with the first and last rooms being full of wow-factor to make sure visitors left on a high. There was also a lovely room where the staff had painted the walls a darker shade of grey in order to accentuate the Lowry pieces. Stunning. However, it was the second show which really did it for me - as is always the way with these things. It's often the smaller, less advertised shows that I enjoy the most.

1964 View of the Bay oil on board © Patrick Caulfield 2001. All rights reserved, DACS. Estate of Patrick Caulfield 2005. All rights reserved, DACS

After an awesome smoked salmon and tuna salad at the sandwich bar around the corner I popped back into Tate with my friend Karen to see the Caulfield exhibition. We couldn't have visited two more contrasting exhibitions! 

 Patrick Caulfield at Tate Britain - Telegraph Review
Since the 1960s, Patrick Caulfield (1936–2005) has been known for his iconic and vibrant paintings of modern life which spice-up traditional artistic practices such as the good old still life. Celebrating the artist’s mastery of colour, graphic elegance as well as his wit, this exhibition at Tate Britain gives everyone the chance to reassess his influences and the legacy of his approach to painting. For me, it was a breath of fresh air, making me want to plunge head first into the world of paint.

1962 Vases of Flowers oil on board 121.9 x 121.9 cm © Patrick Caulfield 2001. All rights reserved, DACS. Estate of Patrick Caulfield 2005. All rights reserved, DACS.
What I found particularly interesting was his attraction to three subjects - plants, pots and chairs. These three things seem to feature a lot in all of his compositions (along with other things of course, like windows). The first two themes are the most interesting to me, the first because, as we all know, I am balmy for plants, the second because it is what my mum is interested in. I quite liked our two outlets being merged on a board.  

I am not entirely sure why Caulfield painted plants so much, especially roses and those typical 1970s houseplants like Mother-in-Law's Tongue (Sansevieria trifasciata) plants and Spider plants, but I do love them so very much. In some of his pieces he uses collage and cuts out the flowers so that they come out photographic in quality, while the rest is flat, bright and typically Caulfield in style. I like that technique, although possibly not so much on his work. It is something I myself would like to explore in the studio though... 

1963 Black and White Flower Piece oil on board 121.9 x 121.9 cm © Patrick Caulfield 2001. All rights reserved, DACS. Estate of Patrick Caulfield 2005. All rights reserved, DACS.

His use of line is formidable - it makes me jealous. His way of designing a complete and interesting composition with as little in the picture as possible is also enviable. There is so much I think we can learn from this guy's work. It's not botanical art by no means, but it is still life. What I am taking away from this show is his use of scale, colour, line and collage. I can't believe I am saying this, but it is time to go even bigger... Sorry Caroline, you are now too small! If you are in the area - I totally recommend this show.

Saturday, 10 August 2013

Balfour - The People's Professor

An Illustration to have been commissioned
by Balfour as a teaching aid, Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh
Last month a PhD was advertised on the Royal Botanic Garden, Edinburgh website. On the surface, it could have been a PhD in Plant Science, but it evidently was not. The Royal Botanic Garden in Edinburgh had joined up with the University of Edinburgh in applying for funds to enable them to offer a three year collaborative PhD to look into their John Hutton Balfour (1808-1884) archives and to carry out essential work in understanding the life of this mysterious Regius Keeper, his role in the botanical arena and how he conducted his lessons and facilitated research. Passionate about all historical research, I thought, what a wonderful project!
John Hutton Balfour in his earlier years,  National Portrait Gallery



After seeing the beautiful illustrations that Balfour had commissioned to help him in his teaching (I had forgotten that I had featured them before in this blog) I decided to carry out a bit of research myself. Though oddly, there isn't much information about this chap out there. This is surprising considering he was pretty much on a level-pegging with the likes of Joseph Dalton Hooker (1817-1911). In fact, Balfour and Hooker were good friends when they were young, both studying at the same University under William Jackson Hooker (1785-1865) and Robert Graham (1786–1845). The sad thing is, they fell out rather drastically after applying for the same lecturing post at Edinburgh University in 1845 (Bellon, 2004). The two men applying for the same post caused quite a stir at the time, and from what is sounds like, it became a ruthless competition between the two men and their supporters.

John Hutton Balfour commissioned illustrations, Kate Davies Designs
Hooker never got the post despite having hundreds of references, a faultless academic track record and having already been working under the previous keeper, Robert Graham. It seems that the whole petition was more about which candidate knew what to do with their merits rather than having the merit alone. Balfour was less qualified, but obviously had something the community wanted. I think there is something we can all learn from in that story. 

Probably feeling really quite heartbroken about that episode in his life, Hooker turned his attentions elsewhere and later on became a huge supporter and friend of Charles Darwin (1809-1882)  Balfour, however, did not really take to Darwin's theories, and this probably ever increased the gap between Balfour and Hooker. Maybe this is one of the reasons why we know so little about Balfour. Maybe his name got blackened with the politics in England alongside his dislike of Darwin's work? Maybe this PhD will reveal all...
 
John Hutton Balfour in his later years - check out the transformation, University of Edinburgh
I do find it interesting that Balfour chose not to embrace the theories discussed in The Origin of Species. Looking at his background we might be able to see where this comes from, although my feeling is that it isn't as straight forward as a simple Religion v Science war. Balfour started his education in Theology at St. Andrew's after being somewhat forced to enter this subject for study by his family. His father was a Reverend and his mother seemed hooked on getting him to follow in the steps of him and her own father. Balfour completed his studies, but became more and more interested in Botany and attended some lectures by the Robert Graham at the University of Edinburgh towards the end of his degree. Not wanting to give up on his botanical studies Balfour and his theology tutor Thomas Chalmers (1780-1847) managed to persuade his parents to allow him to study Medicine in the end, which in those days was as close as you were going to get to Botany. 

Botany wasn't really seen as a true academic subject fit for study and was always combined with the Medical Sciences. This is something that Joseph Hooker personally detested and something which I believe he continually worked hard all his life to rectify. Hooker did eventually change how people saw Botanical Science. It did become less amateurish and got a name for itself. He did this by cleverly changing the way he published books and papers, adopting new designs and layouts and a new language, and, of course, through all his work in enlarging Kew. This though can form another blog post! But I will say here that I feel that in the end, the two men actually needed each other in the promotion of Botanical Science. They both filled their own niches. One came up with the theories and employed new minds in the Jodrell laboratory, the other taught those new minds and passed on the theories. (Check out my blog post on Hooker's reluctance to let visitors into Kew).


A John Hutton Balfour's commissioned illustration, Helle Jorgensen
So Balfour had a background in Theology, and this could explain his reluctance to accept or adopt Darwin's theories in the Origin of Species. I guess one can only speculate, but my own feelings towards Balfour is that this isn't the reason. He appears to have been quite an open minded chap and very inclusive in his approach to teaching and talking with people. He, in my mind, was the people's professor and probably did as much as Hooker when it came to promoting Botany as a science in it's own right, although he did it a different way. When it comes to Darwin, I think that Balfour was actually just deeply concerned about the possible civic outcomes that could result from such a publication. The ever encroaching possibility that people could start to feel detached from the world. The mechanical nature of science ever undermining the enchantment that is life. I think Balfour worried that the book heralded the end of an era. The magic of not knowing where we came from was lost.

John Hutton Balfour exhibition, Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh
On the surface of things it seems Balfour was a genius in dealing with the human condition. It is with no doubt that his childhood and adolescence in Theology taught him a lot about people and I think Balfour cleverly merged his disciplines into one conduit. He fulfilled his love of botany by working with other people and passing on that love - he was a man of service. Through the use of props and paintings, Balfour could transform boring lecture rooms into colourful vibrant places for study. Large illustrations were often produced by Victorian lecturers as teaching aids, but Balfours' were just so large and so colourful that they somehow still ignite a reaction. I am not sure if you agree, but looking at that picture at he start of this post I start to feel really excited and curious. The piece is tantalising and I immediately want to know more. 

Religion in all it's forms has, of course, always been deeply spatial (Warf & Arias). Religious spaces operate an interface of two worlds - the material and the theological. Such places are polylocative, ever fluctuating between the real and imaged, the past and the future (Corrigan). They offer an area where people can reflect; coming to terms with oneself and one's place. They are often highly decorated and the architecture can be dramatic. Incense burns, stained glass shimmers and instruments sing. It is these qualities of religion which makes me feel that Balfour used his background to his advantage. I don't think he was dogmatic and preaching, he just knew what worked and with that in mind set out to make botanical science a religion on it's own. 

Another example of a commissioned illustration, Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh
From what we know so far, the illustrations were
either produced by Robert Kaye Greville (1794-1866)
or John Sadler (1837-1882)
Balfour transformed the lecture room he inherited from Robert Graham, hanging pictures all around. Isaac, his son, described his father's lecture table as forming the synopsis of the lecture. It would be filled with specimens (living, pressed, carpological) and other artifacts such as books and drawings (Noltie). Balfour always proudly stated the number of illustrations on the title pages of his books - he knew the power of the picture. As part of his application as Regius Keeper in Edinburgh, Balfour stated that he had nearly 1000 drawings on a large scale for illustrating the structure of plants (Noltie). Natural History has never been a purely intellectual pursuit. It has always had a considerable aesthetic component to it as well. Many people are attracted to study nature purely for visual reasons. Even in it's most primitive manifestation - in the form of collecting - there is delight to be had looking at the different shapes, colours and patterns of specimens (Allen). Balfour knew this.

John Hutton Balfour, National Galleries of Scotland

So after thinking about John Balfour for a while, I am left wanting to know more. I wonder if Balfour approached his lectures like a sermon? It is after all evident that he became quite a figurehead in the local community. A luminary of civic morality - the ear, the voice - a man of service. And yet there is a another layer, the Romantic layer. Balfour seems to be a bit of a romanticist looking at accounts of his work in the field. Walking in the mists of Scotland for hours on end, he eventually got the nickname 'Woody Fibre'. 

Woody Fibre, the showman and the magician (check out the portraits). There is always something appealing about these types of people. Audiences always have to play catch up and their curiosity grows. Learning becomes contagious and this sparks the debate and the quest for knowledge. With this in mind we can see how Balfour played a key role in maintaining scientific knowledge. He left the formation of new concepts to others. Sadly though, it is the intellects like Darwin that we all remember, but thing is you need both types of people for cultures to grow. Like an idea that comes too early, an idea that has no way of being passed onto other people cannot grow and is at risk of being forgotten. There is nothing as powerless as an idea whose time has not yet come, but this is equally so for an idea that can't be communicated. 

So, how marvelous for Edinburgh to be instigating this PhD. I myself am going to be watching the space for news. I am personally fascinated by Balfour's use of public space both indoors and outside. I think there could be lot of information in the archives that could be of use to contemporary curators, communicators and educators. The archives have the potential to show a yet unseen way of how 19th century Botany was spread as a popular science, and, as a consequence, the ways in which botany can be communicated today. 

John Hutton Balfour, University of Glasgow
I feel that knowledge has now sadly become a commodity and this is serious. It affects the image of science. As James Secord wrote: 'Consumers expect finished products backed by something akin to a guarantee. When knowledge becomes a commodity and then fails to deliver on its promises, by proving to be provisional, uncertain and open to conservatory, the public all to early become disillusioned. This is especially acute in dealing with complex interactions of the environment' where we are only just beginning to fully understand how nature works.  Take all those climate change models for example - none us have a clue what's really going on. 

There is so much put in front of us now that we just don't know what to do with ourselves. Take a David Attenborough program for example. You sit there, learn that the world is in danger and yet are given no real tangible route of action. We sit there in a panic, or in an emotional void not knowing what to do, and then the adverts come in, offering us a way out of the void through consumption - the last thing that the natural world needs on a mass scale. I think Balfour would have agreed that the study of Science needs to continue in a more harmonious way, where humans are nature and not something that is separate from it. In the words of Balfour:

'Science in itself cannot give peace'

or on a more personal level:

'Mathematics never healed a broken heart'


Biblography:
 
Warf, B. and Arias, S., (2008), The Spatial Turn
Allen, D. E., (2001), Naturalists and Society, The Culture of Natural History in Britain 1700- 1900
Bellon, R., (2004), A Question of Merit, Studies in History and Philosophy of Biology and Biomedical Science
Noltie, H.,(2008), Nature study: Louise Bourgeois and John Hutton Balfour Exhibition Catalogue
Livingstone, D. N., and Withers, C. W. J., (2011), Geographies of 19th Century Scince
Secord, A., (2002), PhD Thesis: Artisan Naturalists
Golinski, J., (1998), Making Natural Knowledge
Secord, A., (1994), Corresponding Interests, The British Journal History f Science, pp. 383-408
Secord, A., (1996), Artisan Botany, Cultures of Natural History, CUP
Outram, D., (1996),New Species on Natural History, Cultures of Natural History, CUP
D. Allen., (1996),Tastes and Crazes, Cultures of Natural History, CUP, pp. 394
Drouin, J-M., and Bensaude-Vincent, B., (1996), Nature of the people, Cultures of Natural History, CUP, pp. 408

Books by Balfour:

Plants of the Bible (1885)
Botany and Religion (1882)
Biographical Sketch of Dr. Golding Bird (1855) 
Biography of J. Coldstream Lond. (1865) 
Sketch of D.T.K. Drummond prefixed to 'Last Scenes in the Life of Our Lord' (1878) 
Manual (1848)
Class Book' (1852) 
Outlines (1854) 
Elements (1869) 
Botanist's Companion (1860) 
Botanist's Vade Mecum 
Guide to the Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh (1873) 
Obituary Notice of Charles Robert Darwin, published in Transactions & Proceedings of the Botanical Society of Edinburgh

Tuesday, 2 July 2013

Hiding in Spain

I saw this video on YouTube and thought I'd share it with you all. For me it's very apt. Please don't worry - am not dying (although I guess we all are to some extent), it's just a good reminder of what we need to be doing with our time. Since writing my last post I am still meditating on my take on time. I have had a few shake up calls from my family too and have a distinct feeling I really do need to get on with it. Although I need to be careful of what 'it' actually is. I have way too many ideas, and I need to break them down and chew them over for a few more days.



Despite all this deep philosophical chewing, I am having a lovely relaxing time here with the family. Henry and I frequently come to Andalucia because both our parents live very close to one another and it's great seeing them. It's even better when they live so close to such beautiful scenery!

Mum and Andrew's lake

Looking forward to my return to the UK. I can't tell you how much I have missed Drew my drawing board! I have tried to do a bit of painting in the garden here, but it isn't the same as painting on Drew. I have also missed our little back garden, and hope that everything is still alive. I am sure my housemates have done a super job of looking after my green babies! 

Saturday, 22 June 2013

Anyone can be a success,but it takes real guts to be a failure

I am currently sitting at my desk drinking a cuppa and wondering if I am doing enough with my time. Time - ever omnipresent. Tick tock, tick tock, goes the clock. I am sure I am not the only person who has this feeling. It's not always in the forefront in my mind; it isn't really now, just something in the background, a shadow. It insists that I must make the best use of my time. Obviously, the type of activities change, but they often fall into two categories: Spending enough time alone (which tends to coincide with spells of being creative) and spending enough time with my loved ones (this tends to coincide with eating, walking and playtime). I am not sure where paid work falls into this. It used to be like time -  all-encompassing, but it's become something more detached from me.

Anyway, despite being aware of these two hemispheres, and having practised living them for a number of years they don't always piece together very well to make a whole well-rounded spherical life. But that's ok - nothing is perfect. I am glad it's not, otherwise I would be really bored. Imperfection is what keeps me ticking, like the clock. The failure of things gives me something to improve on, or to interpret. Failures reveal things about myself and in turn reveal things about other people to me. Failure brings me closer to my friends, colleagues, family members and to humanity on a whole. It's a chink in the darkness, a black hole in paradise, revealing things about nature that I had not consciously recognised.

Today I read this fantastic article in The Guardian about failure and you can read it here. I have inserted the articles by Anne Enright and Howard Jacobson because I found them to be inspirational.

My favourite lines are:

Art is made by those who consider themselves to have failed at whatever isn't art. Howard Jacobson

Success may be material but is also an emotion – one that is felt, not by you, but by the crowd. This is why we yearn for it, and can not have it, quite. It is not ours to hold. Anne Enright

Anne Enright

Anne Enright. Photograph: Eamonn Mccabe  

I have no problem with failure - it is success that makes me sad. Failure is easy. I do it every day, I have been doing it for years. I have thrown out more sentences than I ever kept, I have dumped months of work, I have wasted whole years writing the wrong things for the wrong people. Even when I am pointed the right way and productive and finally published, I am not satisfied by the results. This is not an affectation, failure is what writers do. It is built in. Your immeasurable ambition is eked out through the many thousand individual words of your novel, each one of them written and rewritten several times, and this requires you to hold your nerve for a very long period of time – or forget about holding your nerve, forget about the wide world and all that anxiety and just do it, one word after the other. And then redo it, so it reads better. The writer's great and sustaining love is for the language they work with every day. It may not be what gets us to the desk but it is what keeps us there and, after 20 or 30 years, this love yields habit and pleasure and necessity.

So. All this is known. In the long run we are all dead, and none of us is Proust. You must recognise that failure is 90% emotion, 10% self-fulfilling reality, and the fact that we are haunted by it is neither here nor there.The zen of it is that success and failure are both an illusion, that these illusions will keep you from the desk, they will spoil your talent; they will eat away at your life and your sleep and the way you speak to the people you love.

The problem with this spiritual argument is that success and failure are also real. You can finish a real book and it can be published or not, sell or not, be reviewed or not. Each one of these real events makes it easier or harder to write, publish, sell the next book. And the next. And the one after that. If you keep going and stay on the right side of all this, you can be offered honours and awards, you can be recognised in the street, you can be recognised in the streets of several countries, some of which do not have English as a native language. You can get some grumpy fucker to say that your work is not just successful but important, or several grumpy fuckers, and they can say this before you are quite dead. And all this can happen, by the way, whether or not your work is actually good, or still good. Success may be material but is also an emotion – one that is felt, not by you, but by the crowd. This is why we yearn for it, and can not have it, quite. It is not ours to hold.

I am more comfortable with the personal feeling that is failure than with the exposure of success. I say this even though I am, Lord knows, ambitious and grabby, and I want to be up there with the rest of them. Up! There!

The sad thing is, when the flash bulbs do pop and fade, you are left, in the pulsing after-light, with a keen sense of how unhappy people can be with what they have achieved in life. Perfectly successful people. With perfectly good lives. And you come to appreciate the ones who have figured all that shit out. Meanwhile, and briefly, you are a "success", which is to say an object, whether of envy or acclaim. Some people like all that, but I, for reasons I have not yet figured out, find it difficult. I don't want to be an object. I find jealousy unpleasant (because it is unpleasant). I resist praise.

The writer's life is one of great privilege, so "Suck it up", you might say – there are more fans than trolls. But there are two, sometimes separate, ambitions here. One is to get known, make money perhaps and take a bow – to be acknowledged by that dangerous beast, the crowd. The other is to write a really good book.

And a book is not written for the crowd, but for one reader at a time. A novel is written (rather pathetically) not to be judged, but experienced. You want to meet people in their own heads – at least I do. I still have this big, stupid idea that if you are good enough and lucky enough you can make an object that insists on its own subjective truth, a personal thing, a book that shifts between its covers and will not stay easy on the page, a real novel, one that lives, talks, breathes, refuses to die. And in this, I am doomed to fail.

Howard Jacobson

Howard Jacobson. Photograph: Murdo Macleod

But you have to see failure as an opportunity. I took the route favoured by all worldly failures and became a spiritual success. That might be an inflated way of putting it, but failures are nothing if not grandiose. If the world doesn't value us, we won't value the world. We seek solace in books, in solitary and sometimes fantastical thinking, in doing with words what boys who please their fathers do with balls. We look down on what our fellows like, and make a point of liking what our fellows don't. We become special by virtue of not being special enough. I doubt many writers were made any other way.

Art is made by those who consider themselves to have failed at whatever isn't art. And of course it is loved as consolation, or a call to arms, by those who feel the same. One of the reasons there seem to be fewer readers for literature today than there were yesterday is that the concept of failure has been outlawed. If we are all beautiful, all clever, all happy, all successes in our way, what do we want with the language of the dispossessed?


Tuesday, 11 June 2013

A bit of scale




Today I am posting these photographs to give you all an idea of the scale of Green Giant. You might be able to notice from the pictures (cue squinting at your respective computer screens) that I made a start on four leaves yesterday, including two of the top ones. I can see the finishing line...! Which means I intend to make my next post on this painting the very last one showing you the finished piece, thus making this the penultimate post. I am aware that it gets boring after a while. 'Yes, yes Jess - you did another leaf. Anything new Jess? No? Ok, so I guess we have to make do with leaves AGAIN...' I suppose the clue about the content of this online spiel is in the title of this blog, but even I'm finding myself getting bored. Gagging to start something new.

So yes - this is the penultimate post illustrating me tackling the worse bit of all - the last bit. And for some reason (I do this every time) I have left the hardest bits last. I hate painting the undersides of leaves at the best of times, but these ones are back lit. Oh joy of flippin' joys. Still... I am pleased with the process thus far. For these geezers at the top I am using dry brush because I need to feel like I have a bit of control, even if I don't.


Saturday, 8 June 2013

Playing around...


Oh the joys of playing around with an idea - it's such fun! I am currently busy exploring with the 'holy-leaf' on my coffee plant painting... Keeping the thread going with all of the work I have done previous to this (whilst satisfying my interest in ethnobotanical plants, the environment, plant conservation and the desire to produce educational paintings for the 21st century) I am currently hijacking brands. The idea of incorporating packaging into my work started last year when I began collecting data for the Bare Necessities Project and now, at long last, I am putting it into practice and seeing how it looks...

I am not sure on the size of the logo, but I like the watermarking effect on them so that they blend in more with the rest of the leaves. The picture below shows what it looked like before I used the eraser tool and as we can see it's completely ruining the composition. In my view, it is staring me in the face too much and looks about as wrong as 'the hole', but not for the right reasons. With the hole I like the tension and the questioning, in the picture below it just looks strange and like I couldn't be bothered to finish it.







Sunday, 26 May 2013

Inky Leaves at the Espacio Gallery - Preview Night

So it was the opening night of 'Natural Selection' at the Espacio Gallery on Bethnal Green Road on Friday night and it was an absolute blast! It was super seeing all the other artists work and to meet my friends. I am so grateful to everyone who has supported me, including you. Without the encouragement of my readers and followers this exhibition might not have happened.

The Botanical Paintings all in a Row
Sally was everyone's favourite - she is such a poser!
There was a lot of excellent work on the walls in this show, so do pop in if you can. I am invigilating the space a couple of times during the fortnight, so drop me an email if you want to meet me in the gallery. My favourite work was by Kit Boyd who had some really beautiful etchings on show. Apparently he also has a solo show from 31st May at the Barbican Library so I might have to pop in and see that. It was his little creatures in seed pods against a London skyline that I liked so much, they had a wonderful nurturing quality to them.

I also liked Carlos Martybn Burgos' work. He works in tea, so naturally a favourite! I very much liked Tania Beaumont's work - she had several beautiful  prints on display and a couple of really seductively made three dimensional canvases which had a Georgia O'Keeffe feel to them. Kirsty O'Leary had some super graphite pieces on show. She interestingly draws on plaster which actually gives the graphite a super smooth quality to it - such a great idea! I think you guys will like her work as she does a lot of beautiful trees. 

Pod by Richard Rogan Brown
The incredible work by Richard Rogan Brown

Lastly incredibly detailed work by paper artist Richard Rogan Brown is on show too. I have never seen anything like it. I am impressed that someone can work both two and three dimensionally in one piece

Interviewing Inky Leaves at the Espacio Gallery
This took me by surprise - there was a camera crew there and they came over to my corner for an interview.
Inky Leaves at Espacio Gallery
Team Monthope Road (my street) came to support me on the night. I am so lucky to have such great friends
Espacio Gallery
A view of the upstairs portion of the gallery space - a busy night!
Putting on the Inky Leaves stickers onto my prints - my step dad made these for me and it was brilliant getting them on the night.

Friday, 17 May 2013

Tulipa 'Rory McEwen'


We had a lovely delivery in the Shirley Sherwood Gallery of Botanical Art this week - six bottles of beer, filled with water and each holding one cut Old English Florists’ Tulip. Naturally, these are no ordinary Tulips - they are very special varieties which had come all the way from Wakefields. Dating from 1836, the Wakefield andNorth of England Tulip Society is a long established floral society with a tradition of growing English Florists' Tulips and today it is the only society left specialising in Tulips. They have an Annual Show which is held in the Wakefield area each year. This is open to the public and I really want to go!
           
Tulipa 'Rory McEwen'
Tulipa 'Rory McEwen'
English Florists' Tulips had their peak of popularity in the early 19th Century, with many florist societies growing the Tulip and other florist's flowers such as Carnations, Anemones and the Auriculas. The English Florists' Tulip has to conform to certain strict standards, particularly in having a shape like half a hollow ball, and having a base colour cleanly white or yellow, on top of which the darker colour is overlaid. The attractive markings on some of the flowers arise when their bulbs are infected with Tulip Breaking Virus. The markings have been known about since the days of 'Tulipomania' in the 17th Century, but it wasn't until the 1930s when Tulip Breaking Virus was discovered to be the cause. The flowers do not seem to suffer from the infection (one of the oldest cultivars known is Habit de Noce (Wedding Coat), dating from the 1790s, and it is still grown by society members today). 

Tulipa 'Rory McEwen'
Tulipa 'Rory McEwen'
Two of the six bottles in the Shirley Sherwood Gallery of Botanical Art each had a very special Tulip in – Tulipa ‘Rory McEwen’, named after the man himself! They were so uttlery beautiful. You can really feel their rarity - they are like diamonds in a botanical world. I just had to take a photograph, complete with the traditional beer bottles in the background, which Wakefields traditionally exhibit their Tulips at shows.

Web Cow Girl has lots of images from one of the shows if you are interested...