One day, going shopping in Islington, I passed a small shop that I had no idea existed. It was shut, but some china in the window caught my eye and, although I don’t know much at all about 19th century china, it hooked me sufficiently that I returned the next day. This time it was open and I was told that the china that had taken my fancy was some ‘gaudy welsh’. You may well have heard of it, but I hadn’t and it seemed an unusual use of the word ‘gaudy’, so I looked it up. It originally meant ‘brilliantly fine or gay, showy’ and although it has now come to have the sense of being overdone and tasteless, the original word immediately struck me as completely appropriate: the joy the artist had so obviously taken in the painting of the design made the tulips dance across the surface of the china.
It turned out that the shop was closing down that day, so if I hadn’t been so determined to go back the day after I had seen it, I would have missed my ‘gaudy welsh’; I took that as a sign and kept one piece for myself.
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Laura Knight
This is by Laura Knight who is exhibiting her ‘Pottery Marks’ at Town House from 17 November – 3 December. I like the way she takes something old which has been in ordinary daily use for sufficient time that people take it for granted, eating off their willow pattern plates without thinking about it, and she takes it, turns it round in her hands and considers it, making us stop and look anew. Because we see something every day, it is easy to overlook the beauty of it: familiarity breeds not quite contempt, but perhaps indifference and it is good to be made to open our eyes to the freshness of that original design. In particular it’s difficult, perhaps, to appreciate how exciting the arrival of Chinese art and design was for Europeans in the mid eighteenth century and interesting to see how those new currents that influenced Chambers and Chippendale were then appropriated for general use, inevitably acquiring their own popular stamp. Laura brings it full circle making us appreciate the force of that original design.
Pottery Marks by Laura Knight at Town House.
18 November – 3 December 2011
Tuesday – Sunday 11.30 – 6
Private View 17 November 6 – 9
for our freedom years
Kerry and Gemma approached me with their idea for this exhibition earlier in the year and I was intrigued by the idea of the juxtaposition between old and new and the idea of a walk in Cabinet of Curiosities.
This is what Kerry and Gemma have to say about For Our Freedom Years, currently on at Town House
‘for our freedom years is a reaction to womens’ ‘culture’, to the idea that as women we share the same ideals, beliefs, ethos and problems, fundamentally the same identity. An identity that is expected and in many cases embraced by many females in today’s mainstream society. The name, of both the exhibition and collective, stemmed from a well known glossy womens’ magazine whose aim is to guide us through our ‘freedom years’. They want to be a friend to young British women who ‘shop when they want, go clubbing when they want and they don’t have millstones like mortgages and kids around their necks’. This doesn’t feel particularly relevant to us, part of their target audience, who can’t quite comprehend why our freedom must disappear.
This exhibition will draw upon and utilize our own experiences as women in order to re-evaluate the notions of femininity. The show will be held in Town House, a homely antiques dealership where the work will interact with the objects and space, transforming it into a collection of female oddities. We have worked with the atmosphere of Townhouse in order to create an installation, where the antiques and art interact, the anti white walled gallery. The space will become a part of the work, creating a walk through cabinet of curiosities.
for our freedom years was curated by Gemma Donovan and Kerry Clark, with the intention of creating a platform for discussion surrounding the way females position themselves within contemporary culture. Both of the artists work with the stereotypes of women and how they view themselves within them. This show hopes to create a network with individuals who share our ideals, rather than those ideals placed on us by popular culture.’
for our freedom years Gemma Donovan and Kerry Clark at Town House
28 October – 11 November
private view 28 November 6 – 9pm
Tuesday – Saturday 11.30 – 6.00
Sofa
This is a sofa that I have had made recently, an exact copy of a mid 18th century one. This is not something that I usually do, but when the original was briefly in the shop so many people loved it that I decided to have a go. The frame was made as an exact copy even the decoration on the legs was hand-carved. The upholstery was also done in the traditional way, by 7Upholstery in Redchurch Street. I put the mid 20th century African (Mali?), textile on it in the shop by accident, but really liked the combination so I left it there, somehow it brings out the modernity of those sweeping arms.
Orely soaps
At a market in France in September the perfume of these soaps drew me to Aurelie’s stall, the lady who makes them. In response to the many questions I asked about her soaps she invited me to her home in the depths of the French countryside to watch some soap being made. Aurelie is a typically vivacious young French woman and to her audience of four people she gave an extraordinarily passionate demonstration of how they are made, which was more reminiscent of the very best of the TV chefs than of what you would expect of soap-making. If she had scraped the pan with a spoon and offered it to us to lick I think we would all have done so without thinking, such was the sensory appeal of the smell of the herbs and oils and the vision of the thick dark chocolate-coloured mixture with swirls the colour of cream!
Orely soap (she has changed the name to make it easier), is in the shop now price £4.90, with lots of wonderful perfumes: lavender and geranium, orange and cinnamon and honey and almond…..
Tom Mallin, artist
I bought a painting by Tom Mallin a little while ago and was lucky enough to be able to track down his son to ask about his father, as I hadn’t been able to find anything out in the standard sources. I wouldn’t usually go to such lengths, but he still had some of his father’s paintings left from his studio and I was curious to see them. So there was quite a long drive on a wintry day, but I arrived eventually at a very cold, empty factory that had become an artists’ collective. As he showed me his father’s remaining paintings, I was able to ask him about Tom’s life. Born in 1927 he became a picture restorer working mainly on 17th and 18th century paintings before starting to paint for himself in the 1950’s. Because he was used to working on paintings in particular styles, many of his own betray the influence of those he was restoring at the time, but the paintings that stood out for me were those of corners of his home and studio in Suffolk. It is as though his emotional response to his own surroundings freed him from the stylistic restraints of constantly working in the guise of other artists, allowing his own talent to take over. I particularly like this long painting titled ‘Studio Clutter’ (a detail of which is shown here), I always love anything to do with workshops and studios: it has something to do with the working space and the clutter of things that people use, whether tools or brushes… It is as though you can look at the tools and know the person.
Jonathan Garratt, potter
Since I have changed the shop to become less of an antique shop and more a space selling a mix of things that I like, I have been on the lookout for some pottery to sell. Then in September I happened to be in a village in Dorset (having a cream tea I have to confess), when I found some work on sale there by Jonathan Garratt. So I phoned and asked if I could visit him and was amazed by what I found. He lives in an eighteenth century house which, with its barns, encloses a paved courtyard full of plants, colourful garden pots and decorations of varying shapes and sizes. Beyond lies the garden where he keeps his chickens, grows his fruit and vegetables and stores the wood he is drying (ready for chopping and using to fire the kilns he has built himself).
Jonathan studied archaeology and is also the son of a dealer (who by an extraordinary coincidence, knew my father), so the ancient forms of cooking utensils inform the shape of much of his pottery and the colour and surface pattern is heavily influenced by his love of African textiles. I had a wonderful time in his showroom barn surrounded by his amazing array of shapes colours and came away with a selection of mugs, bowls and jugs for use, but also some larger pieces. They are in the shop now, so I hope you will come to have a look if you’re passing.
A window on another world
My parents were both dealers and so from a very young age I spent a lot of time going to auctions and antique shops with them. I have to confess that I hated it and always swore that I would never become an antique dealer. Yet I always enjoyed listening to my father explaining how things were made and was sucked in by his passion; without realising it my eye gradually became accustomed to these things around me. So when I went off to university and saw a watercolour I liked in a shop for £15 – I bought it instinctively and that was it really… I continued to buy small things when I could until I realised I wanted to become an antique dealer after all and joined my parents’ business trading at Fairs.
That was a long while ago and I have come to realise that what I enjoy most about these objects that I buy and sell is that feeling of connection to a world that was seemingly so different. The connection can be obvious: finding a name written in pencil hidden away, or letters in a secret compartment, carefully tied up. Or it can be less obvious: the realisation that a chair with a puzzlingly low, but comfortable, back was a dressing chair in which men sat to have their wigs dressed, tells you something about the world in which they lived that you had never thought about. Like a door opening it makes you realise that, of course, they wanted to be comfortable while their hair was done just as we do. Looking at these objects not just as old things to be collected and venerated, but as things that still have something to say to us about ourselves and how we got here is what keeps me doing this.
Oh and I still have that watercolour.