London's West End has really pulled out all the stops with its Christmas decorations this year. Here are some of the trees outside Selfridges department store in Oxford St.
Pause outside the shop's windows and you'll find a series of glittering life-sized Santas. An explanatory video charts the year-long process of creating them. (Apparently it took 193 hours to sew on the Santa sequins.)
The Bond St decorations are always elegant, and this year is no exception.
Department stores like House of Fraser and John Lewis have got into the festive mood with illuminated shop fronts.
Some stores may have Santas, but John Lewis has returned to nature, with lots of woodland creatures and of course the trampolining dog from its television commercial.
If you're in need of a break from the crowds, John Lewis has created a winter garden on its roof terrace. There are private dining cabins and a pop-up restaurant nestled among the fir trees.
When you get to Regent St, you'll find a string of ethereal angels hovering over the traffic - stunning, and so much more attractive than the commercialised decorations that have cropped up in recent years.
Liberty's decorations take their inspiration from the Royal Ballet and the Nutcracker, with these storybook figures flanking the doorway.
The windows recreate scenes from the ballet, using puppets. Here's Clara admiring her family's tree.
Around the corner, Carnaby St looks back its heyday in the Swinging 60's with a nod to the V+A's exhibition You Say You Want a Revolution.
Should you feel like venturing further afield, the Dulwich Picture Gallery (which next year celebrates its 200th anniversary) has transformed its grounds with a Winterlights trail (until Dec 18).
While you're there, you can see wintry masterpieces in the Gallery's collection, and admire the baroque Christmas tree, guaranteed not to shed needles. Season's Greetings everyone!
Translate
Sunday, 18 December 2016
Tuesday, 22 November 2016
A new home for London's Design Museum
The Design Museum has moved from a former Thames-side warehouse (near Tower Bridge) to what
was the Commonwealth Institute in Kensington High Street – not far from the V+A
and Natural History Museum. The £83 million redevelopment trebles the count of
space available, with a 202-seat auditorium, three exhibition galleries, a
learning centre, library, restaurant, juice/coffee bar, two shops and work space for designers
in residence. Its new home - the work of
designer John Pawson, architects OMA and engineers Arup – is visually stunning.
As you enter, your eyes are immediately drawn up to the hyperbolic paraboloid roof that
is the only remaining part of the original 1960s structure. This swoops across
the central atrium, its beams and angles playing with the light and forming
patterns wherever you look.
The central stairs, with handrails housing
concealed LED striplights, have a central seating area, perfect for catching up
with a friend or just having a break. The Design Museum is the
brainchild of Sir Terence Conran. It had its beginnings in 1981 as the Boilerhouse
Project in the basement of the V+A and in
1989 metamorphosed to become the Design Museum in Shad Thames. Sir Terence
describes the opening of its new venue as “the most important moment of my
career in design – so far. I don’t know what is next but it cannot be as
exciting as this.”
The top floor gallery houses a free permanent collection, Designer,
Maker, User with a wall of 200 favourite designs chosen by the public.
These range from an Anglepoise lamp, a London Underground roundel, a Bialetti
coffee maker and pair of Levis to an Ikea shopping bag, a new £5 note and a very humble wooden clothes
peg. The exhibition itself traces developments in everything from architecture
and engineering to the digital world, fashion and graphics.
There’s a temporary
exhibition on the ground floor, Fear and Love, with eleven widely-differing installations.
Look out for the 1200kg industrial robot, transformed by Pittsburgh designer
Madeline Gannon (above) into a sentient creature, Mimus, that swings over to investigate you, but then, if you don't do enough to keep its attention, darts off to find something more interesting. It’s designed to show that despite our fears and
anxieties about robotics, we have the power to foster empathy and companionship
between humans and machines. Madeline says when the museum is quiet and the
area around the robot’s enclosure is still, it goes to sleep and snores – the noise
based on that made by her pug.
Another interesting installation, in
response to the recent Brexit vote, is a Pan-European Living Room, furnished
with a piece of design from each of the 28 European member states. It suggests
that our idea of a domestic interior has been shaped by an ideal of European
cooperation and trade. On the back wall is a colourful vertical blind in the
form of a barcode flag. The red, white and blue strip representing the UK
lies fallen on the floor.
In the basement are the 70 or so nominees for Beazley
Designs of the Year. These include the last David Bowie album cover, a robot
surgeon and a drinkable book (a germ-killing paper filter with lifesaving
information printed on it). There is also an Ikea flatpack emergency shelter
for five people (above) that can be assembled in four hours without tools to create a
safer home for displaced people. The winners will be announced on January 26,
2017.The museum also has four young designers in residence. One of them, Clementine Blackmore, has created a pavilion in the grounds that pays tribute to the original concept of the Commonwealth Institute building – a ‘tent in a park’ - by echoing the double-curved form of the roof.
http://designmuseum.org/
Labels:
Arup,
Beazley,
Design Museum,
Ikea,
Kensington,
OMA,
Pawson,
Terence Conran
Wednesday, 16 November 2016
The Queen's House, Greenwich, reopens
The Queen’s House, the beautiful 17th century villa
in Greenwich designed for Anne of Denmark, is celebrating its 400th
anniversary after a major refurbishment. It’s just reopened after 14 months and has new displays, lighting and colour schemes. The Palladian building was the work
of the celebrated British architect, Inigo Jones. When he won the commission, he
had recently returned from Italy and his plans reflected this: the
first fully Classical building seen in England, its elegant white facade and
double-height Great Hall were a far cry from the red brick warren of the neighbouring
Tudor palace (now demolished).
Sadly Anne, the wife of James 1, never saw her
mansion finished, though her portrait (above) hangs on the wall. She became ill not long after construction began and died in
1619. It was completed for Charles I’s wife, Henrietta Maria, but the Civil War
that followed saw it stripped of much of its decoration and paintings. Members
of the royal family visited occasionally after the Restoration but it never regained its former glory. Succeeding
years saw it serve many purposes, including that of a home for the Park Ranger
and later the Greenwich Hospital School. In 1937 it was reclaimed to house the
art collection of the National Maritime Museum, with paintings by artists such as Canaletto, Hogarth, Lowry, Stubbs and Reynolds.
One of the most
striking features of the refurbishment is the delicate gold leaf decoration by Turner prize-winner Richard Wright, scattered over the ceiling the Great Hall. Although modern, it’s a perfect complement to
the airy space with its striking marble floor, while subtly echoing the gilt elsewhere in the house.
You pass
from the upper gallery into two lavishly decorated rooms - the Presence
Chambers of the King (above) and the Queen. These now have bright new colour on the walls
and gold highlights the elaborately carved ceilings. A welcome touch - the elegant chairs that allow you to sit in comfort and study the portraits of royalty and
courtiers, among them the famous Armada portrait of Elizabeth I, who was born
at Greenwich.
Once owned by Sir Francis
Drake, this became part of the national collection in July 2016 after a public
fundraising campaign that attracted thousands of individual donations.
Also on
display are treasures of the Royal Museums Greenwich art collection, many
historic paintings of the area and new contemporary art with a nautical theme.
The refurbishment has also seen a restoration of the spectacular Tulip stairs,
the earliest unsupported spiral staircase in England.
Despite the name Tulip,
the floral design on the wrought-iron rails is probably of lilies, the royal
flower of France, in honour of Henrietta Maria. The Queen's House has enough to keep a
visitor happy for a good hour or two (there are some amazing treasures displayed
in tiny cabinet rooms at the back of the house) and with the Maritime Museum, the Cutty Sark and Old Naval College (below) so close, it makes for a fascinating day out.
The Queen’s House is open every day 1000 – 1700. Admission
free
Wednesday, 9 November 2016
Emma Hamilton - Seduction and Celebrity
Emma as Circe c.1782 by George Romney ©Tate bequeathed by Lady Wharton 1945 |
Emma in a white head-dress 1784-85 by George Romney ©National Portrait Gallery, London |
Emma as Circe 1782 by George Romney. ©Waddesdon, The Rothschild Collection |
Emma as Absence (Ariadne) c.1786 by George Romney ©National Maritime Museum |
Greville, however, needed a wealthy wife, and Emma, now
famous, was a hindrance. So, as we discover in Act Two: International Celebrity,
he sent her, ostensibly for a holiday, to his uncle, Sir William Hamilton, the
British envoy in Naples. In fact, she was being handed over to be his mistress.
When Emma discovered the truth, she was devastated and wrote angry and pleading
letters to Greville that went unanswered.
Eventually, intelligent and
enterprising as she was, she determined to make the best of her circumstances
and set about improving and educating herself - with the encouragement of Sir
William. She studied the classics, languages, history, singing and dancing. She
used her experience of modelling for Romney to create her own performance art:
the ‘attitudes’, small, wordless plays (recreated in a memorable video for the
exhibition) that brought to life the paintings and sculptures that drew foreign
tourists to Italy. They charmed Sir William’s many guests, and were copied by
other female artists.
Emma devised a simple Grecian-style white dress, accessorised with a shawl, for her performances, popularising a fashion that spread all over Europe. A deep affection grew between her and Sir William, a widower. In 1791 he married her, and Emma made an incredible leap up the social ladder to become Lady Hamilton. As confidante and favourite of the Queen of Naples and Sicily, Maria Carolina, she came to wield considerable political power. She helped the Royal Family escape from an uprising and was awarded the Order of Malta for arranging shiploads of corn to be sent to the island’s starving population during a siege. Nelson later wrote: “The British fleet under my command could never have returned.... to Egypt had not Lady Hamilton’s influence with the Queen of Naples caused letters to be wrote... to encourage the fleet to be supplied with everything.”
When Nelson arrived back in Naples
after his victory at the Battle of the Nile, she organised lavish celebrations
in his honour. She wrote: “God, what a Victory.....My dress from head to foot
is alla Nelson. My earrings are Nelson’s anchors. In short, we are be-Nelsoned
all over.” (The exhibition has a flounce of her dress embroidered with his
name (below).
The inevitable happened – their mutual admiration turned into love. But both were already married. You can read one of his earliest letters to her, agonizing over the difficulties of their situation: “No separation no time..... can alter my love and affection for you, it is founded on the truest principles of honor and it only remains for us to regret... that there are any obstacles to our being united in the closest ties of this Worlds rigid rules, as we are in those of real love.” When the ageing Sir William, who seemingly tolerated the relationship, was recalled to Britain, Nelson travelled overland with them, welcomed and feted at every stop.
Act Three: Constructing Paradise, sees the
three of them back in London, the scandalous affair public knowledge. Emma became pregnant, but tried to keep it a secret. Their
daughter, Horatia, born in 1801, was given into the long-time care of a nurse and
her parentage disguised. The lovers longed for a quiet, domestic life. Nelson,
separated from his wife, bought them a rather dilapidated country house, Merton
Place, which Emma did her best to turn into a home. But the navy sent him back
to sea and from then until his death at the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805 they
had little time together. Emma, however, was always in his thoughts.
In the last Act, Falling Star, we see the portrait of her that hung in his cabin and one
of a pair of betrothal rings that they exchanged.
Before the Battle of Trafalgar he added a codicil to his will: “I leave Emma
Lady Hamilton therefore a legacy to my King and Country that they will give her
an ample provision to maintain her Rank in life...” As he lay dying he asked
that his pigtail (below) be cut off and sent to her.
Emma never recovered from the tragedy of his death. The final item in the exhibition is the uniform coat that he wore during the battle (below), pierced by the bullet that killed him. It was grudgingly returned to Emma, and was seen arranged beside her on her bed, as she lay there, grief-stricken.
The government ignored Nelson’s request that she be looked after, and his estate, apart from Merton Place, went to his brother. Emma, lampooned by cartoonists, tried to maintain her fashionable lifestyle but things became increasingly difficult without a man to support and protect her. (Sir William had died in 1803.) In 1813 she was arrested for debt and sent to King’s Bench Prison. Friends helped arrange her release the following year and with Horatia (who may never have been told Emma was her mother) she fled to Calais. Her health, damaged by alcohol, finally gave way and she died there, destitute, in January 1815 at the age of 49.
In the years that followed, Nelson’s reputation grew, outshining her
achievements and reducing her story to that of a great man’s seductive
mistress. The curator of this fascinating exhibition, Quintin Colville, succeeds brilliantly in the long-overdue
job of rehabilitating Emma as a dazzling woman who did her best to fight through
the barriers and conventions of a man’s world. Interestingly, the story also invokes uncomfortable parallels
with the perils of today’s celebrity-obsessed culture.
Emma Hamilton - Seduction and Celebrity is at the National Maritime Museum, Greenwich until 17 April 2017. Admission £14 (concessions)
www.rmg.co.uk
Emma dancing the tarantella c1791 by William Lock ©The Jean Kislak Collection |
Emma devised a simple Grecian-style white dress, accessorised with a shawl, for her performances, popularising a fashion that spread all over Europe. A deep affection grew between her and Sir William, a widower. In 1791 he married her, and Emma made an incredible leap up the social ladder to become Lady Hamilton. As confidante and favourite of the Queen of Naples and Sicily, Maria Carolina, she came to wield considerable political power. She helped the Royal Family escape from an uprising and was awarded the Order of Malta for arranging shiploads of corn to be sent to the island’s starving population during a siege. Nelson later wrote: “The British fleet under my command could never have returned.... to Egypt had not Lady Hamilton’s influence with the Queen of Naples caused letters to be wrote... to encourage the fleet to be supplied with everything.”
Arrival of Vanguard with Admiral Nelson at Naples 22 Sept 1798 attrib. Giacomo Guardi© National Maritime Museum |
The inevitable happened – their mutual admiration turned into love. But both were already married. You can read one of his earliest letters to her, agonizing over the difficulties of their situation: “No separation no time..... can alter my love and affection for you, it is founded on the truest principles of honor and it only remains for us to regret... that there are any obstacles to our being united in the closest ties of this Worlds rigid rules, as we are in those of real love.” When the ageing Sir William, who seemingly tolerated the relationship, was recalled to Britain, Nelson travelled overland with them, welcomed and feted at every stop.
Merton Place in Surry, Seat of Admiral Lord Nelson 1804 after Edward Hawke Locker ©National Maritime Museum |
Emma, Lady Hamilton 1800 Johannn Heinrich Schmidt ©National Maritime Museum |
Fede or betrothal ring 1800-05 ©National Maritime Museum |
Emma never recovered from the tragedy of his death. The final item in the exhibition is the uniform coat that he wore during the battle (below), pierced by the bullet that killed him. It was grudgingly returned to Emma, and was seen arranged beside her on her bed, as she lay there, grief-stricken.
The government ignored Nelson’s request that she be looked after, and his estate, apart from Merton Place, went to his brother. Emma, lampooned by cartoonists, tried to maintain her fashionable lifestyle but things became increasingly difficult without a man to support and protect her. (Sir William had died in 1803.) In 1813 she was arrested for debt and sent to King’s Bench Prison. Friends helped arrange her release the following year and with Horatia (who may never have been told Emma was her mother) she fled to Calais. Her health, damaged by alcohol, finally gave way and she died there, destitute, in January 1815 at the age of 49.
Admiral Nelson 1800 Johann Heinrich Schmidt ©National Maritime Museum |
Emma Hamilton - Seduction and Celebrity is at the National Maritime Museum, Greenwich until 17 April 2017. Admission £14 (concessions)
www.rmg.co.uk
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)