
I went back to the parental home a couple of weeks ago to celebrate, belatedly, my darling mamas birthday. We had an excellent time nosing around the charity shops – although I seem to have a talent for only picking supremely boring books at present – and of course greatly enjoyed the murder hunt!! Yes my home town was the place where that vicar got stabbed, as my mother put it; the most exciting thing to happen in Thornbury since the Norman Conquest. Obviously a horrendous thing to happen but still mucho’s amount of fun to be on the national news!! I wasn’t allowed to smoke outside after nightfall and got to stick my head out of the bathroom window instead – thus proving that every (stabbing) cloud has a silver lining. Anyway, on the Sunday we drove over to Westonbirt Arboretum which is the National Arboretum apparently (you’d think it would be Kew wouldn’t you??). This fabulous beacon of all things Victoriana is obviously well up my street. Started in 1829 – i.e. the heyday of the 19th century mania for exotic plant collection and categorisation (2 of the 3 ‘C’s of the 19th century – the 3rd obviously being colonialism) it has flourished ever since. Obviously not being particularly green of finger I don’t have a huge amount to say about the specimens viewed, also all the information kept telling us was that ‘this species is under threat’ – seriously, all the bloody species seem to be under threat, it was a tad depressing. But one thing that did stick out was the Wollemi Pine which dates back over 200 million years. They thought it was extinct long ago and only knew about it from fossils but then some guy was wandering around some valley in Australia and found it! It’s the most hardy thing ever and actually survived a Nuclear Holocaust – there are trees which survived Hiroshima apparently. Anyway it reminded me of this painting by Francis Danby called The Upas, or Poison-Tree, in the Island of Java, one of my favourite in the V&A:


My very very favourite piece in the collection has to be this fabulously erotic painting by Ary Scheffer which depicts The Ghosts of Paolo and Francesca Appear to Dante and Virgil – these were two fornicators condemned to one of the many circles of hell for adultery. Bloody hell though if you looked like that wouldn’t you adult? LOVE this pic.



Following my Monday off I took the Friday of that week as annual leave as well and skipped along to the Freud show at the National Portrait Gallery with the mama, who was in London this time. I went to see the big Freud retrospective they had a few years ago with my dad and it was many of the same pieces. It’s his early stuff I really like and this was a new piece to me, a simply stunning self portrait:

It’s when you see images like this, the beloved straggly pot plant that you realise despite being a portraitist Freud clearly had pretty much zero interest in people. Instead everything is treated uniformly; the leaves on this plant are of equal importance to the people sitting in front of it in other portraits in which it featured:


One other thing that struck me about his work was how unbelievably backwards and dated he must have seen in the 60s. Everyone else is changing the world, changing art, changing the way we viewed ourselves – and he is producing painterly swirls on canvas. What must Warhol have thought???




