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Culture

Silver Swans, China Plates and Memories from the Pits: The Bowes Museum and ‘Kith & Kinship’

By Rohan Scott

County Durham’s Bowes Museum is a fabulous French Second Empire edifice nestled in a corner of the charming town of Barnard Castle. It was purposefully built in 1892 to house the collections of Josephine and John Bowes. Given the context of the ‘Kith & Kinship’ exhibition, it is important to acknowledge the source of the Bowes family fortune. The coalfields of County Durham and Northumberland did well to service the wealth and station of the Bowes family, but would not have been possible without the graft and toil of many working people in the region. If this museum may be a sweet fruit from bloodied and ashen soil, then I hope the beauty of its contents and the ‘Kith & Kinship’ exhibition goes some way to serve as a testament to the communities that enriched the very foundations of this museum.

The museum is endowed with an excellent ceramics collection that beautifully illustrates the intersection between art and functional wares. Over the past century it has subsumed other nationally renowned collections, allowing it to enamel a picture of the history of porcelain. Items range from ancient Qing wares to intricate nineteenth-century European open-work pieces. A favourite of mine is a pair of faience felines coloured canary yellow, made by Émile Gallé.

The parquet-floored picture gallery sits on the second floor, occupying a grand space reminiscent of the rooms in the National Gallery. Upon entering the gallery, a conspicuously placed Canaletto might catch one’s eye, unless first drawn to the bizarre novelty that is a silver swan automaton. Works by El Greco, Goya and Fragonard can be found on the walls, interspersed with paintings by none other than the museum’s founder, Josephine Bowes. 

I will briefly pay some attention to a concurrent exhibition called ‘Framing Fashion: Art and Inspiration from a Private Collection of Vivienne Westwood.’ It displays items from collector Peter Smithson alongside pieces from the museum’s collection to explore historical inspiration in the works of Vivienne Westwood. I feel entirely underqualified to make any discerning comments on this exhibition – but I thoroughly enjoyed the pieces from Dressing Up (Autumn/Winter 1991/92) which feature Harris Tweed corsets, velvet jackets, tattersall skirts and stalker hats. It somehow manages to make a country wardrobe fit for the runway.

The ‘Kith & Kinship’ exhibition revolves around the works of Norman Cornish (1919-2014) and L.S Lowry (1887-1976). The exhibition seeks to illustrate the relationships and social webs of Northern England’s working class communities during labour disputes, wars, the Great Depression and industrial decline. Cornish and Lowry captured the lives of working people in moments of joy and moments of hardship to create a colourful testament to the people of Northern England – their history, their kith and their kinship.

The selected works of Cornish and Lowry work beautifully in tandem, complementary in intention, contrasting in approach and outcome. Cornish draws directly from his experience in the pit in Spennymoor, County Durham. The scenes of his artworks reflect an ‘insider’ perspective as a member of the very community he was capturing on canvas. By contrast Lowry conveyed the toil of Northern industrial life – in Pendlebury, Greater Manchester –  as an empathetic outside observer. The exhibition has been curated with sensitivity and purpose – that is – purpose to highlight an aspect of English history and society so often overlooked. The works of Cornish and Lowry are delightfully paired together to create a sort of correspondence between the two artists. 

Some painting that deserve particular attention are as follows:

‘Chip Van at Night’ (Cornish)
Cornish delivers the warm glow of a Spennymoor chip van, conveying a sense of warmth and respite from a long day’s work.

‘Teenagers’ (Lowry)
Lowry’s signature waifish matchstick figures present a still of adolescent life in industrial Britain.

‘The Gantry’ and ‘Pit Gantry Steps’ (Cornish)
Two paintings of miners climbing the pit gantry steps, the overcast skies and ominous steel structures induce a powerful sense of dread.

‘The Big Meeting’ (Cornish)
A sea of flat cap-crested miners against a backdrop of the silhouettes of Durham Cathedral and Castle. An inspiring image of a community celebrating their heritage and demonstrating labour solidarity.

‘Cricket Match’ (Lowry)
A joyous image of play, set against a backdrop of urban decay – representative of declining industry, unemployment and uncertainty during the Great Depression.

Postscript: I thoroughly recommend a visit to the ‘Kith & Kinship’ exhibition and the permanent collection of Bowes Museum. I apologise for the late delivery of this article as the final day of the exhibition is Sunday 19th of January. The ‘Framing Fashion’ exhibition is on until the 2nd of March. I hope this might inspire some last minute weekend plans – or perhaps a cause to see the museum and the other fabulous exhibitions they put on later in the year.

Categories
Uncategorized

Arboretum Autumn

By Rohan Scott 


More gift of the watery sky, no Indian summer in sight

Rain and fog, grain sodden to bog.

I tread the mudded trail cutting the planted rows.

Rhododendron, Hydrangea, purple Verbena

Nomenclature serves no barrier in the floral wonder

Hues of periwinkle and mauve dusted with water drop


A clearing announces my arrival at the steps of the wood

I am greeted by a solitary maple

Who directs me to seek shelter under the arboreal cluster

Thank you and farewell, leaving it alone, again.


The beechen canopy wipes the rain off my shoulders

As I wander into the dark and dank

Interspersed are fir and pine following no forested rank

The needle littered floor presses a waft of wet loam

My eyes spin above my person

Enamoured by these silent sentinels


My feet wander through this towering grove

I am drawn along the trail to the feet of a champion

The great Wellingtonia peers down at me

Standing over a hundred feet

To ease the crane and strain, its lowest limb gestures a seat


I scan its blood shale bark, its samphire leaves

I’m speechless.

No, I have so much to say – but you can’t hear me?

A wind carried whisper corrects me,

It listens closely to my thoughts,

Bestowing momentary solace –

To be alone, In company,

With a newfound friend.

Categories
Poetry

A Railway Trilogy

By Rohan Scott

 

Ticket to Ride

 

It’s ten past nine.

The morning sun is still cloaked in her clouded gown.

 

 

Traipsing up the steps,

Shuffling past weary smokers,

I approach one the petites portes of the colonnade,

Before being swallowed up by Empire frontage.

 

Now under the canopy of rusting ribs, I am enveloped by a chorus of chatter

Incoherent announcements sound across the hall

My sullen eyes scan as my tired bones creak,

The languor of the morning has been rudely interrupted.

 

A scene of anxious voyagers unfolds before me:

People scuttle across the floor, 

mothers shepherd their children, 

tourists trundle their baggage.

The seemingly lost are then soon found,

Whilst the sloth-like are then suddenly forced to scramble.

 

Amidst this flurry, pressings of caffeine permeate the air,

Mixed in is the buttery waft of pastry.

I pause my senses to interpret the abacus of departures.

 

Taking directions towards the mooring of the steel serpent

I join the tide of passengers lumbering along this landed jetty

Studying the numbered portals, before reaching my station.

 

I mind the gap and then unshoulder my effects.

I then squeeze past my newfound neighbour,

And nestle into seat 643.

 

 

Rolling Anaesthesia 

 

Upon the timetabled minute, the iron horse gracefully shunts out of her vaulted burrow.

She ambles through industrial edifices, trots by postcard scenes before building to a gallop.

 

Metropolitan facades begin to flicker until they dissolve out of sight. 

Suburbia is swiftly replaced by the visual delights of rolling pasture.

 

My eyes sift through darting morsels:

Grazing livestock and hedgerows.

Winding becks and solitary oaks.

Church spires and cookie cutter clouds.

 

The motion picture of countryside, an optical lullaby that soothes the insatiable mind –

One last blink, then I am lulled asleep

 

 

Crossing the Thar

 

I peel my arm away from my vinyl bed

Glued by sweat,

The swelter keeps me in a permanent state of damp.

 

Triggered by an unwelcome touch,

I swat at a fly, palpating on my thigh. 

 

The dry currents of air shunted through my window do little to stave off the heat.

The ever-growing lagoon on my back juxtaposes the barren desert landscape.

My companion drowsy from the scorch, dozes whilst saline beads roll off his brow.

 

The atmospheric fever holds me down, too weary to read a verse, too sapped to raise a pen.

Even my tepid water tastes of desert sand, it does little to satiate my discomfort.

 

The inhospitable palomino landscape is scattered with fatigued spinneys of desert shrub. 

The wagon rattles through this hellish landscape, inviting those warm gusts.

My awe for this sand swept plain is fickle, soon the character of the intrepid and adventurous 

quickly folds.

 

As I wallow in a pool of sweat, I yearn for modern comforts. 

My loathing of this morbid environ grows,

My fantasies blend into hallucinations, 

Until I join my companion,

In the realm of the unconscious.

Categories
Poetry

Brisk Langour

By Rohan Scott

An animated stillness slips off the awning

Drip, splash, the gentle rattle of drizzle

Raindrops splinter light,

So forms the yellowed mist

The old trodden flags collecting,

Puddles glisten, reflecting

The cold is still, unshaken

The enclosure of edifices,

Keeps the breeze at bay 

Clasping an ember between forefinger

A ghostly smoke drifts into the air

As the nighthawk draws their breath

The watcher is numb