Establishment establishment

Recently I left you standing on the sidewalk as we explored Holland Park, London, admiring the studio-home of Frederick Leighton, about whom I knew nothing until I started booking art-related tours and visits for my stay in London. 

Of London galleries I managed my fair share (in large part thanks to my lovely niece.) I visited the Courtauld and Dulwich galleries with her and walked via the city's green ribbon to the National Gallery  - one of those pinch me moments, and a sweet memory of my first visit with my dear Den in 1981.    

There were a couple of spots I could not fit into my itinerary, like the 'imagined home' of Huguenot silk weavers in the 17th and 18th centuries, the Georgian Dennis Severs' House in Spitalfields , and a Bloomsbury pilgrimage. 

But this one I visited. I enjoyed a lovely lunch overlooking the garden. Bought the book. And have carried the experience with me for 10 months. 

When I talk about the artists' enclave of Holland Park, don't think cold attics for a moment. These are well-to-do artists who achieved recognition and wealth in their lifetimes.

Frederick Leighton was an independently wealthy artist, well-known for his "popular paintings of historical, mythological and religious subjects." Very much the flavour of the era. He was president of the Royal Academy for 18 years. Establishment.

 Leighton was knighted by Queen Victoria in 1878 when he became President of the RA,  was created a baronet in 1886  and became a baron in 1896. A safe appointment: the titles died with him as he was unmarried. Leighton was an unusual man, a handsome bachelor surrounded by friends, a gracious and interesting host of dinner parties, salons and musical events at his home. 

Nevertheless his house is much more interesting to me than his oeuvre. I suppose we can consider his home one of his works.  He said he had it built for his own artistic delight. These photos do not do justice to Leighton House, but they try.

There's a basic virtual tour here provided by the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea.. 

My visitor guide was written by Daniel Robbins, senior curator Museums RBKC, was published in 2023 and was well worth the extra weight in my carry-on.

Frederick Leighton travelled in Algiers in 1857 and a decade later to Turkey and Rhodes.  Then Egypt. Damascus. The ceramic tiles and plates and other glazed ware of the regions captivated him (not difficult) and he became a huge collector, arranging with contacts in the East to have purchases shipped to him. 

The Arab Room was born. It's the most exotic thing, based on a palace in Palermo: tinkling water in a pool in the centre, walls covered with blue and green ceramic tiles, a gold mosaic frieze, niches with artefacts, mosaic floors, a brass gasolier worthy of a mosque, marble columns with carved capitals, Islamic calligraphy panels, wooden window lattice screen and a dramatic golden dome. Here in London! I'll let these few photos speak for me. I'm speechless.

The Narcissus Hall, named for the statue which Leighton installed there, is similarly exotic, and serves as a passage between the Arab Room and the equally mind-altering staircase hall.

The drawing room was more conventional in decor, sparsely furnished, I read, used mainly as a waiting room for clients. Note the Murano glass chandelier.

The dining room displayed Leighton's collections as well (over 50 decorative plates.) Many treasures have been replicated or substituted in the restorations of recent years which brought Leighton House back from the brink.

 

The home was inspired by the architecture and interiors of Venice according to my guidebook, the courtyard of the Palazzo Centani with its exterior staircase and central wellhead a model for the staircase hall.

Exotic. Treasure, treasure everywhere. I was out of breath by that point.

On the second level is Leighton's massive studio, extended twice during addition after addition to the house. It was in the studio that the artist offered his famous musical evenings. The silk room was added in one of the later renovations, designed to hold his vast collection of paintings. 

The exotic and beautiful Mashrabiyah wooden lattice screen in a passageway between the two rooms overlooks the Arab Room below.

Now that you've visited this sumptuous house museum, I will share a fact that saddened me. After Leighton died in 1896 his sisters did their best to maintain the home, always hopeful of creating a museum to honour him. But over time the dream was lost, and his sisters sold the contents of the house to provide funds to fulfil the bequests in his will. Earnest committee and council muddlings yielded no plan and the house fell into decline. Bomb damage during 1940 and '44 hastened the end, demolition was discussed. By 1982  there were no original finishes left but the tiles. Miraculously, a restoration between 2008 and 2010 effected an astonishing turnaround, and the fully restored Leighton House was open to the public by 2022. It's not a complete reboot; many of the interiors are replicas or 'true to the period' treasures and there are new public spaces. But it's a keeper.

A few more facts on the Royal Academy for me to keep track of:

I enjoyed browsing the website Victorian Artists at Home to view photo portraits of the artistic establishment of the 1800s in their studios and drawing rooms.. The stuffy (to us) interiors and the formal artificial poses may belie some interesting lives. This account suggests there was more to the RA than serious beard-stroking.

The Royal Academy of Arts was founded by King George III in December 1768 with a mission "to establish a school or academy of design for the use of students in the arts" with an annual juried exhibition. The painter Joshua Reynolds was first president. There were 34 founder members with a total of 40 allowed, including 2 women? Mind you, it took until 2019 before the RA had its first female president.

This painting by William Powell Frith (1881) entitled A Private View at the Royal Academy shows a well-behaved lot. I love the detail in Frith's paintings.  (downloaded from Wikipedia.)

 I can appreciate the rebellion of artists like the members of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood to the mainstream style of "unimaginative and artificial historical painting." 

These days the RA has its share of controversial exhibibitions and scandals. 

No Starving Artists Here

During my short stay in Kensington last spring, I enjoyed the wealth of parks in my neighbourhood: Kensington Gardens,  Hyde Park, St. James Park, Green Park. This intense city is filled with urban nature refuges, a ribbon of green space which I followed for most of my journeys of exploration.

 To the west of my temporary neighbourhood lay the Royal Burrough of Chelsea and Kensington (my poshest address yet.), A short walk along Kensington High Street and I found myself in delightful Holland Park. 

Now the historic Holland House was a disappointment. Turned out I'd arrived a bit late, as magnificent Jacobean Holland House was largely destroyed during German firebombing in 1940. I enjoyed what I found - 55 acres of deep woodland, the remains of the house and formal gardens, the sport and recreation facilities. 

The estate history is long and celebrated, so I'll leave you to have a read. My interest was piqued at learning about the dower house, itself demolished in 1871 - missed that one by a mile. 

But here the story gets interesting. Little Holland House, the dower house on the estate, was rented in 1850 by Sara and Toby Prinsep whose friend and long-time house guest was George Frederick Watts, a famous c19 artist about whom I know nothing. They were interesting people. Prinsep was an Anglo-Indian, director of the East India Company, his wife, the renowned beauty Sara was born in Kolkata, daughter of a  civil servant in Bengal.  So, fascinating background I want to read more about. Sara was an 'influencer', a 'bohemian'; she and her beautiful sisters held the Little Holland House 'salon' on Sunday afternoons. 

Painter George Frederick Watts built the first studio-house in the area which was then opening up. And so I discover, just south of the Holland Park property, a goldmine of art and architecture history, about which I knew nothing!

 Holland Park Circle and Melbury Road became an artists' enclave. This was no East Village. Here's a link and a Streetview peek at the area. A number of establishment artists of the 1800s built 'studio homes' in the area, and many still stand. Others were lost to WWII and development.  Wikipedia, bless 'em, provides a list of the famed (and to me, unknown) artists who made the area great.

Here's a keeper, an article about the Prinsep home, built after their lease expired at the dower house. It too is now lost to us, but give us a hint of the kind of places and people we're talking about.

One thing I did know. As I entered the impressive treed red-brick mansion neighbourhood, I had my sights trained on Leighton House, the second artist's studio house built in the area. 

I was hot and tired, and despairing of finding it, when I came upon a gas meter reader, whom I suspected of having good local knowledge, and I was right. English, not so much. But such a generous heart. At great effort he described how to find the place - and when we came upon each other later in the neighbourhood, he crossed the street to check that I'd found my spot. Awww. Here we are at long last at the gate to Leighton House. 

And here I will leave you with this tempting glimpse inside the studio home of the celebrated Frederick, Lord Leighton (1830-1896).

The Ten Percenters

Today I am recalling a delightful day spent in the company of  my adored niece, on a 13th century property which she had mentioned as a possible outing. Look at this place. No, this is not medieval Italy.

This is English heritage. This is the Middle Littleton Tythe Barn (fiendishly difficult name to get straight) near Evesham in Worcestershire on the edge of  the bucolic Cotswolds.  My lovely guide persevered through numerous subdivisions and a complex downtown to find this ancient gem. 

The National Trust dates the property at 1250, other records cite 1376. The barn is associated with the Benedictine monks of Evesham Abbey, third largest abbey in England. Dendrochronology suggests the 1250 date is more likely.  Wikipedia chimes in with a plausible explanation to the date conflict.

Tithe barns were built to store hay and grain crops prior to threshing, whereupon, in return, the monks collected tithes (or one-tenth of the crop) to support their works. Among these was the maintenance of a hostelry for visitors to the Abbey, and perhaps a cider press? Here's the National Trust history of the tithe barn, which contains a photo of the main door which I neglected to capture.

The Benedictine Abbey, the third largest in England, was founded in Anglo-Saxon times and destroyed in 1540. It is astonishing what Henry VIII's fit of pique resulted in. A few weeks ago I mentioned in this post how we read about these events but don't really grasp the violence and destruction which resulted. In this case, almost the entire abbey was destroyed but for the few cherished bits mentioned in this article. 

As we wandered up, a personable volunteer guide emerged from the an open outbuilding to escort us and share his enthusiasm for the property. We wandered the huge ancient space. My companion gave our host the attention he deserved while I wandered awestruck. 

I defer to the National Trust for an adequate description:

-130 by 42 feet wide

-walls supported by buttresses, 8 on long side, 3 on end

-"raised cruck" style: the large cruck timbers rest on stone walls, not the ground

-holes in the walls are putlogs - held scaffolding during building

-originally porches on east and west sides, only one remains

-constructed of Blue Lias stone and Cotswold stone dressing

-triple purlin roof tiled in stone

-roof slates from 6 to 18 inches long, originally secured with wooden pegs

- decorative finials above gable roofs ward off evil

Our visit ended with a wander in the apple orchard, where dedicated volunteers are working to establish heritage varieties. Here's more on that initiative.

Warm sun glinted off fresh spring leaves and the august tower of lovely St. Nicholas Church.  

Worcester Pearman

   

The afternoon ended with a delightful picnic in the long grass dotted with wild-flowers, in the company of a dear wise woman. 

Garden Tour III - Tivoli Gardens

It's snowing. Many dear friends use this kind of weather as inspiration for browsing seed catalogues, making lists, drawing garden plans. I study historic gardens - and this year I'm fortunate to have some of my own photos to peruse. Last fall I got myself to Tivoli Gardens outside of Rome. For years amore mio and I visited this place and other wonderful gardens of the world thanks to Monty Don's garden series. He's a charming English garden expert who visits world-famous green places, con brio. He visited this little oasis in busy Venice. 

In the words of the UNESCO declaration, Tivoli gardens represent "the flowering of Renaissance culture." Did anyone intend that pun? But I would hasten to agree. The statement declares the Tivoli gardens "one of the earliest and finest of the 'giardini della meraviglie'" and I would concur. Here is me being overwhelmed by the 100 fountains. Here's the rest of the UNESCO statement. 

Oval Fountain

I have come upon the name d'Este often in my Italian history browsing. This Wikipedia article, although apologizing for its brevity, covers the bases. (Yes I donate, do you?) 

The Fish Ponds

The beyond sumptuous villa and estate were built by Cardinal Ippolito II d'Este, son of the Duke of Ferrara, archbishop of Milan at aged ten, and grandson of Pope Alexander VI. Ippolito's own designs on the papacy were cut short by the Reformation. Mixed feelings here - Ippoito was a massive patron of the arts, and creator of beauty (for himself and his peeps.)  His wealth and entitlement enrages me.

Fountain of the Big Glass

     Maybe I should just relax and look at the photos,         relive the day.

Fountain of Neptune

I thought I might drop this bit of video here; it's the Fountain of Neptune, well, fountaining.

Fountain of the Owl

Fountain of Persephone

Villa d'Este's Tivoli Gardens are famous for fountains. There are "51 fountains and nymphaeums, 398 spouts, 364 water jets, 64 waterfalls and 220 basins fed by 875 metres of canals, channels and cascades all working entirely by the force of gravity, without pumps." (Wikipedia counted)

The crowds gathered around this rather OTT creation had one thing in mind. Hope? Scepticism?

Here's a patient tourist trying to capture a moment.  This overdecorated pile is the Fontana dell'Organo, the Organ Fountain, begun 1566. It's a marvellous piece of Renaissance artistry and engineering. 

Somewhat on schedule, twice a day, this astonishing fountain produces some not bad late Renaissance music -all by air and water power, remember?  

I'm saving this  video visit posted to YouTube by Walkin' Around, to whom I subscribe. They show some of the villa interior, through which we passed on our guided rush to the gardens. 

Of course, I wanted equal time in the villa, but we were on our way back to Rome. (Who's to complain, really?)  I grabbed a few photos of painted ceilings and some intriguing Roman mosaics but will content myself with this photo of the Vialone, the long terrace between the villa and the gardens. Perhaps you detect a note of wistfulness?

And if I've left you wanting to learn more, here's a detailed Wikipedia entry. 

An Arch Look

These three triumphal arches in the Roman Forum have been on the course syllabus whenever I've taken an art history course. And I must admit that I've always had trouble remembering which was which. Now that I have been in their presence - cannot say I've walked under each, nor did I stay long enough to devote adequate time to all the relief carvings - I have a deeper appreciation, and that pesky urge to learn more.

I'm recording some interesting things I learned for my reference/ amusement. Here's an outstanding interactive map if you'd like to walk along. Try not to dawdle. Keep your eyes on the flag.

At the top is the Arch of Titus, built by Emperor Domitian in 82AD to commemorate the victories of his brother Titus, including the conquest of Jerusalem. Relief carvings on the interior show soldiers carrying off the treasures of the Jerusalem temple. History written by the victors.

I read that the Arch of Titus was the model for the Arc de Triomphe in Paris - a note for my Paris-travelling family.

As usual, a link to my favourite art history site, Smart History - arch of Titus, tells the story better than I ever could.

My middle 3 photos show the Arch of Septimus Severus. Unlike the single arch of Titus, this one has three bays. It was built in 203AD to commemorate the emperor's and his sons' victory over the Parthians (ancient Iran and Iraq) - how far the Roman Empire pushed its way!

Here's Dr. Beth Harris with Dr. Darius Arya in one of the informative chats on Smart History. I viewed the arch from several vantage points, but didn't get to stand under those coffered barrel vaults or get close to those massive columns. The many figurative sculptures and the inscriptions of the attic story inspire awe even now 2000 years later. Imagine the spectacle as these emperors  would process through the arches with the spoils of their conquest - human and material - trailing behind.  (I read that Septimus Servus declined the big victory parade due to arthritis pain. Such a human ailment for an emperor!) 

The bottom two photos show the arch of Constantine, the largest of the triumphal arches in the Roman Forum, erected by the Senate in 312AD to commemorate Constantine's victory at Milvian Bridge in northern Rome over Maxentius, a fellow emperor in a complicated government called the Tetrarchy, of which I know little.

Once again, Dr. Beth Harris and Dr. Steven Zucker are my go-to site, here. 

I like this photo, taken from the piazza outside the Colosseum. Look at the ants milling about. The glory of the once-great Empire still humbles us.

I was surprised to learn that there were five triumphal arches in the Roman forum - archeologists and historians have discovered the crumbs of the Arch of Tiberius (16AD)  and the Arch of Augustus (possibly 29BC.) Their images appeared on coins or carvings on other arches. There is an evocative photo on this site. I would have stood there in October without realizing the past glories celebrated on that spot. The more I think about Rome, the more attuned I become to the inexorable nature of change. These arches glorified larger than life emperors and their victories, in an Empire that ruled the world for a thousand years, then disappeared. We may be entering a new era of triumphal arches, who knows?

Pondering what was.

 

I'm saving this link to the Madain Project, with its exhaustive list of Monuments in the forum, using it as I work my way through my photos, seeing how many I can put names to. Why? Curiosity? Planning for a more informed visit next time?

And here's the link to  travel consultant Susan, who has informed my journey this time.