Surrey walk 2

Not much to say about last weekend's walk, which started at some posh houses in Oxshott, and via a muddy path eventually went to Esher Common, where there was a lovely sandy bank with a view over a stretch of heath.   We had to cross the A3 (a main road to London) via a footbridge, which I had never done before. The Black pond at Esher was worth seeing.. The walk was five miles and we were never out of earshot of the A3!

 

Lack of Democracy

Recently I have been very lazy, politically. I was going to go to London to campaign last weekend for Green issues, I had it in my diary for weeks, but then my husband got us invited to a friend's house for Sunday lunch, so we did a walk in the Surrey hills, Sunday lunch, film with our friends; and I never went to London.

I emailed my MP about the new deal for Junior Doctors and I got a lengthy and really irrelevant cut-and -paste reply. this is because my MP is Philip Hammond. Yes, the Foreign Secretary is my M.P. and before he went to the Foreign Office he was the Minister of Defence. You can imagine how excited he is every day now that we are bombing Syria and Iraq! what can make a man/woman feel more important than having people kill people because you say so! He is, in effect, the King!

(He felt pretty important for the years before his rise to power, as he always got around in a chauffeur-driven posh car even if he was just visiting the Girl Guides summer fete.)

So although I would like to tell my M.P. my strong feelings about the war and TTIP, there is really no point. He is not representing my views, no way. He is representing the diametrical opposite of my views. Caroline Lucas is representing my views, and I am always glad to hear her doing so. But democracy - don't make me laugh. Boo hoo.

The Watts Gallery

Today I took Mum to the Watts Gallery for a change. We were both tired and didn't hit it off too well, but I was interested to see the Gallery, which is in a village off the A3 south of Guildford. It has recently been completely renovated.

There are some huge sculptures as well as paintings. I was particularly impressed by these. this one is called Physical Energy. Watts crafted it out of gesso and then cast it in bronze. The gallery has the gesso model - very rough and ready.

The gallery is quite small and visitors should go and see the cemetery chapel as well. If you don't go and see this you have missed a major treat. See photos here.

GF Watts's sublimely beautiful paintings exposed brutal truths about Victorian society, says Richard Dorment

In 2002, I wrote in the Telegraph Magazine about an institution close to my heart: the Watts Gallery, just outside Guildford in Surrey. Founded in 1904 to display more than 200 paintings, drawings and sculptures by the Victorian artist GF Watts, the collection had dozed for most of the 20th century to become a perfectly preserved time capsule only 30 minutes by train from Waterloo station.

But after so many years of benign neglect, the listed Arts and Crafts building was facing ruin. Rain was coming in through the roof, and the pictures were in need of conservation. The patina of age, which had once been part of the gallery's shabby-genteel charm, had gradually become a serious preservation issue.

In 2004, the trustees launched an appeal to raise £10 million to save the building and its contents - and to ensure their survival into the next century. In June of this year the target was reached, thanks to the support of the Heritage Lottery Fund and the incredible generosity of individual donors.

The gallery was closed for renovation, but before it re-opened in 2010 a show of highlights from the permanent collection toured the country.

George Frederic Watts was born in London in 1817. His first surviving picture is dated three years before Queen Victoria came to the throne; he was working on his last painting three years after her death. As well as being one of the leading portraitists of the Victorian age, Watts left behind a body of symbolist work that addresses (among other subjects) the Victorian loss of faith, child prostitution, and cruelty to animals. Like John Ruskin and William Morris, he saw art as a means to social reform.

For most of us, I think, this has made Watts's art harder, not easier, to appreciate. It encourages a tendency to treat each painting not as an end in itself but as a portal onto the age in which he lived.

This approach is not in itself wrong - indeed it is one important way in which his art differs from that of contemporaries such as Burne-Jones, Frith or Leighton. But what gets lost is our sense of Watts as an artist whose pictures we judge as we do those of any other artist: the handling of paint, the strength of the draughtsmanship, the originality of the conception, and the power of the composition.

The first picture in the show is his self-portrait at the age of 17. It shows a preternaturally sensitive youth whose tousled hair and bohemian dress belong to an already-bygone era of romantic poets doomed to die young.

The young Watts painted hopeless loves, dark deeds, noble knights and glamorous villains in pictures and sketches of remarkable technical confidence. In his self-portrait he uses paint with a freedom and fluidity that in one so young might almost be called arrogance.

After five years in Italy, Watts returned to London in 1847. Shocked by the extremes of wealth and poverty that he saw all around him, his pictures changed dramatically. Found Drowned shows the corpse of a young servant girl washed up under Waterloo Bridge; Under the Dry Arch depicts the slumped figure of an exhausted female vagrant sheltering beneath Blackfriars Bridge. In both pictures, nocturnal London itself becomes part of the story, the indifferent maw that swallows up these two anonymous lives.

The realism here is confrontational. Bravura brushwork is suppressed and the colours restricted to midnight blues, blacks and ochre, the better to focus the viewer's attention on single monumental figures isolated against the brooding skyline. Such images have no counterpart anywhere in art at this date.

Watts didn't show his realist paintings publicly for another 30 years and never attempted to sell them. He understood that the Victorian public would not tolerate - and certainly would not hang on their walls - works that told such brutal truths about the society they lived in.

But what the public would look at, and even buy, were pictures that told the same truths through myth and symbol. And so, in responding to the topical issue of child prostitution, Watts didn't show a little girl soliciting in the street. Instead, he painted the minotaur, the monstrous hybrid of man and bull, a symbol of rapacious male lust looking down from his fortress to find his next victim.

Such works reflect the anxieties and aspirations of the age. And yet I sometimes think that their symbolic content deflects our attention from the real issue, which is that at his best Watts is a sublimely beautiful painter who had his own original take on even the most time-worn subjects.

One of the most beautiful - and ghastly - pictures in this show, for example, is his Paolo and Francesca. In Dante's story, the adulterous lovers, murdered by Francesca's husband before they can repent their sin, are condemned to the circle of hell where souls are blown forever in a whirlwind. Watts goes out of his way to show the pair as beautiful corpses still wrapped in their shrouds, clinging together as they are swept through a black abyss.

And what could be more poetic than Watts's Endymion, where the blurred softness of silver-blue paint conjures up the vague idea of the goddess Diana in the form of diaphanous moonlight enfolding the sleeping youth?

Once you see how beautiful a painter Watts can be, you look at even the most rhetorical symbolist and allegorical pictures in a different way. For me, the horseman seen in an aureole of orange light in Watts's allegory Progress looks like the logo of a power company. But look at the freely-painted robes of the miser who counts his gold in the lower foreground, and you will see a passage so sensuously painted it reminds you of Titian.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/art/3563601/GF-Watts-confronting-the-demons-of-his-age.html
At present there is a minor exhibition on by Eleanor Fortescue-Brickdale, and her pretty painting and book illustrations were the Pre-Raphaelites' last hoorah - she used delicious colours like early Millais. I have enlarged this but it is painted in with careful detail and is much longer than this.