June 26^th, 2016

STRANGE SHORE: Edinburgh, Scotland.

SUNDRY LAND: United Kingdom

WANDERING WAY: Scottish National Gallery and Scottish National Galleries of Modern Art

To provide the best glimpse into the

“Inspiring Impression: Daubigny, Monet, Van Gogh”;

“Modern Scottish Women Painters and Sculptors 1885-1965”; 

and

“Surreal Encounters”

exhibits that I enjoyed yesterday and today, I decided that the most reasonable tact would be to discuss my favorite pieces. Perhaps I’ll find extra energy (doubtful) to pose thoughtful remarks on the exhibits as a whole, but don’t hold your breath.

(To clarify, I visited all THREE exhibits twice over the course of two days. That means six visits in all -- it’s just how I roll. Side note: A museum membership is the very best souvenir that anyone can buy on vacation – it affords a light, wallet-sized memento that has the added benefit of supporting a worthy cause in the arts.)

1. A review of “Inspiring Impression: Daubigny, Monet, Van Gogh” appeared in my very favorite publication “The American Art Review” – you had no idea that I was this much of a geek, did you? – about two months ago, and its glowing commentary provided a splendid rationale for visiting Edinburgh right now. Ever since I began subscribing to “The American Art Review”, it has provided surprising yet persuasive excuses for visiting all sorts of far-flung cities. Truthfully, the magazine should just hire me as its own personal PR mascot.

In addition to bringing together a breathtaking array of oils using the clever conceit that Charles François Daubigny inspired his younger colleagues to create the broad brushstrokes of Impressionsm, this particular exhibition has the quirky distinction of being a joint venture of the National Galleries of Scotland, The Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam, and the Taft Museum of Art in Cincinnati, OH. As a native Ohioan, it simply warms my heart to imagine Cincinnatian art curators phone-conferencing with the Scots and the Dutch; I have no doubt the Europeans picked up remarkable insights from their Buckeye co-conspirators.

Now, those Americans among you might be wondering: “Why in the world didn’t she just visit Cincinnati when the exhibition debuted in the States? It's a slightly shorter trip, Sharon…” 

For two quite good reasons, actually. Firstly, I needed to teach this winter; secondly, the Scots expanded the exhibit with multiple European holdings. Therefore, it was doubly essential to visit Edinburgh instead of Cincinnati, and frankly, wouldn’t you want to visit Edinburgh instead of Cincinnati, too?

The exhibition is most notable for its elegant juxtapositions of works by Charles François Daubigny, Claude Monet, and Vincent Van Gogh with similar subject-matter, and I’d say the most striking triptych conjoined three large-scale paintings of poppies. Since they wouldn’t allow photography in the gallery (a prohibtion that I totally applaud despite its mild inconvenience for the average blogger), here are three links to the respective poppy paintings of

Daubigny: http://museum.cornell.edu/collections/european/european-art-1600-1900/fields-month-june 

Monet: http://art-monet.com/1880_72.html 

and

Van Gogh: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Vincent_van_Gogh_-_Poppy_field_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg 

In the exhibition, these large pieces were hung side by side by side, inviting the viewer to witness the stylistic development of Impressionism while wondering if some other kind of “poppy experimentation” might’ve been going on. Moreover, these three pieces hail from museums in New York, Rotterdam, and The Hague, and their happy union on a single wall reveals the ambitious scope of this exhibition in all its impressive proportions.

Pretty cool, huh?

Now, if I had to pick a single piece that I adored, I would pick “Farms Near Auvers, 1890” by Van Gogh: http://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/gogh-farms-near-auvers-n04713, on loan from the Tate. As the Tate’s website explains, this piece was completed in the last few months of Van Gogh’s life (May through July of 1890), but the exhibition provided an even more poignant backstory. Charles François Daubigny was Van Gogh’s own personal hero, whom he celebrated for his intense understanding of nature. After Van Gogh was released from the Saint-Rémy asylum in May of 1890, he chose to spend his last summer painting in Daubigny’s adopted hometown, Auvers, where the older artist had lived, painted in his prime, and passed away. Not only did Van Gogh paint a canvas featuring Daubigny’s Garden and Widow, but he also painted scenes that Daubigny himself had painted starting in the late 1850s. Daubigny painted the little farming town Chaponval outside Auvers; in this painting, Van Gogh paints farmhouses in Chaponval with the stylistic flare of his late paintings. How moving that Van Gogh would go on a pilgrimage to the enshrined countryside of Daubginy, particularly in the last summer of his life.

As for the painting itself, the exhibition lauds Van Gogh for demonstrating how the farmhouses and fields blend together with the manmade structures and the natural scenery coexisting in sympathy. (That’s not exactly how the exhibition’s placard phrased it, but you get the idea.) I love how Van Gogh achieves this harmony between the farmhouses and fields through his careful use of line, and note how the geometric planes of the roofs and fields lay at different angles so the viewer must readjust her gaze even as the geometry coalesces to draw the eye to the center. The oil glows with summer light as fields and thatching recall the blinding sheen of fresh straw in the sun.

2. The "Inspiring Impressionism" exhibit opened the night after I arrived in Edinburgh, but my visit was also timed to coincide with the last few days of “Modern Scottish Women Painters and Sculptors 1885-1965.” In general, I make an effort to visit exhibitions commemorating the efforts of women artists. If you’re interested, consider these past examples:

-The Museum of Fine Arts "Studio of her Own" exhibit in Boston 

-The Rockport Art Association’s recent exhibition, “Strokes of Genius: Women Artists of New England"

or

-The Brighton Museum’s recent exhibition, "Women Artists in the Fine Art Collection"

               

So frankly, I was overjoyed to hear that The National Gallery of Modern Art in Edinburgh was mounting a major exhibition devoted to women artists. If the truth be told however, the exhibition turned out to be a little uneven, divided between wonderful artists (Bessie Macnicol, Margaret Macdonald Mackintosh, Doris Zinkeisen, Norah Neilson Gray, Margaret Oliver Brown, and Joan Eardley) and a whole bunch of people whose names I didn’t bother to record. Nevertheless, I’d still rate the exhibition as a signal success because I find it somewhat likely (and rather disheartening) that the strong artists mentioned above might not be shown in other contexts. Perhaps I’m wrong; time will tell.

Moreover, the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art made the intelligent decision to include a room that displays the work of women artists who moonlit as book illustrators. (Historically, it’s been easier for women to find a foothold in the relatively lowbrow trade of book illustration.) Here, Cecile Walton made the boldest impression, I’m tickled pink by any and all attempts to bring illustrative art into wider viewership.

As for my favorite piece, I can’t help but love Doris Zinkeisen’s “Self Portrait (Mrs. Grahame Johnstone)” from 1929:

(http://www.npg.org.uk/collections/search/portraitLarge/mw12326/Doris-Zinkeisen?LinkID=mp10367&role=sit&rNo=0)

Hardly a surprise that Zinkeisen worked as a theatrical makeup and costume designer, is it? The exhibition explains that she painted this oil in Sydney; after my jaunt "Down Under" this past winter, I must say it does share some of the Australian sheen and color that saturated the work of other antipodean modern painters. (For examples, see http://www.portrait.gov.au/magazines/15/modern-australian-women) Yes, the piece is graphic, and yes, it’s over the top even as her décolletage reaches down. But my, how wonderful. Plus, I’m always a sucker for artists who integrate textile patterns into portraiture – paging Monsieur Édouard Vuillard.

3. “Surreal Encounters” is a revelation, if you like Surrealism. I do. I’ve seen two other recent exhibitions on "Drawing Surrealism" at The Morgan Library and "Magritte" at MOMA (http://www.moma.org/calendar/exhibitions/1298?locale=en), and The Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art blows them both out of the water. I happened to be eavesdropping – so sue me – and another patron remarked that seeing the exhibition provides an essential primer in the history of modern art. Too true. The museum managed fill up a room with Magritte’s paintings right next to another enormous room full of Dali’s paintings right next to another room stuffed with Miró’s paintings, and then they sprinkled everything liberally with the works of Duchamp and Picasso. (The breadth of the exhibit is extraordinary, and I’ve only covered a few of the artists represented.) And even better, the curators happened upon the notion that the art collector’s taste was a vital ingredient in the surrealists’ art of bricolage and assemblage. (Side note: Susan Harlan, you may want to check out the catalogue because it has a whole section devoted to surrealist curiosity cabinets.) It’s a must see. In fact, I’m going to see it again.

Hmmm, picking one painting is difficult, and so I’ll go with these two: Magritte’s famous “Not to be Reproduced” (http://collectie.boijmans.nl/en/object/4232/La-reproduction-interdite-(Verboden-af-te-beelden)/René-Magritte) and Dali’s equally famous “Exploding Raphaelesque Head”:

I could go into a long description relating why each painting is awesome, and I could explain how viewing each one in the quiet atmosphere of the Scottish National Gallery (rather than the steaming holding pen of MOMA) fired off a small series of happy fireworks in my brain, but I’m exhausted after a long day. So let’s just say that I have a thing for twisty, backwards noggins.