A Rage for the Lakes

Today we went to see “A Rage for the Lakes” at the Barber Institute, an exhibition of drawings and watercolours of the Lake District, from Abbott Hall Art Gallery. The exhibition closes tomorrow, so we were cutting it fine, but after our lovely trip to the Lakes last year I was determined to get to see it! It’s only a small exhibition, but is filled with 40 works by painters drawn to the Lakes when its popularity increased in the late eighteenth century through to the mid-nineteenth.

Interestingly, the first thing that struck me when I went into the exhibition was how many of the pictures were rather monochromatic – not just sketches, but misty, muted colours in the watercolours, too. Consequently, those which did use true colour stood out – for example, John Harden, whose wife apparently said that he was unusual for doing his “colours on the spot” rather than waiting until he got home – which perhaps accounts for his vivid and realist use of colour. Joseph Arthur Severn’s painting “Coniston from Brantwood” (Severn was the wife of Ruskin’s cousin Joan, and thus lived at Brantwood for a while) shows some amazing Autumnal colours across Coniston. But the rest, even Ruskin’s own, are muted, somehow very English-style images of what is actually not a very English subject – the mountains, lakes and clouds in, for example, those by Joseph Wright of Derby, are not unlike his paintings of Italian lakes and mountains.

The three Ruskin pictures – one sketch and two watercolours – are of Coniston from his turret at Brantwood, where he could see the sun rise, and one watercolour shows just that, the changing effects of the sky and the water. I was also very taken with Edward Lear’s paintings – associating him, as everyone does, I suppose, with something rather more frivolous, it was fascinating to see his lively but serious depictions of the Lakes scenery with their louring clouds and unruffled water. Other artists included are Thomas Hearne, Turner, Constable and WJ Blacklock (the last of these had quite the bluest sky of any painting there). One day I shall have to go to Kendal to see the paintings in their home with the Lakeland Arts Trust.

Visiting Wordsworth

We also went to visit Wordsworth’s cottage. There is a little bit of me that is aware that it is quite un-academic and slightly silly of me to get so excited about visiting the homes of great writers, but it is somehow impossible not to feel that the atmosphere of a place somehow retains something of the past inhabitants, and there is no doubt that Dove Cottage in Grasmere certainly makes Wordsworth come alive, helped by the excellent tour, which was both informative and amusing.

The museum attached to the cottage contains a wealth of detail about Wordsworth’s life and times, from the French Revolution to his love life (which are kind of linked, anyway).  Items belonging to the poet, including his socks (looking, I have to say, fresh from Marks and Spencer), his ice-skates, and his cloak, are bizarrely fascinatingm, while original manuscripts are much more absorbing – I do like to see a poet’s handwriting! The cottage itself is quite small and dark, but homely, and the tales of the inhabitants – Wordsworth and his wife, sister and sister-in-law, children, visitors, and Thomas de Quincey – are both poignant and amusing. The tour guide conjured everyday life there, from Wordsworth in his writing chair, preferring to be away from the domestic areas of the house, to Dorothy writing her Grasmere journals, and the Wordsworth children in a room so cold that Mary papered it with old copies of the Times (looked quite effective; still freezing cold).

After the cottage, we walked into Grasmere itself, and admired the church there, St Oswald’s, an ancient church where Wordsworth used to worship, and is now buried with his family.

There is plenty of information of the website of the Wordsworth Trust.

Visiting Ruskin

In the Lake District for a few days, we decided to go to see Ruskin’s home (for the last 28 years of his life), Brantwood, where he lived with his cousin, Joan Severn, and her family. Having spent so much time reading Ruskin over the last couple of years, I was really excited about it, and it is amazing to see where he lived and died.

The house is on the shores of Coniston Water, so we went by boat from Coniston, arriving by the little harbour that Ruskin built himself (though now superseded by a small wooden jetty).  After a lovely lunch in the cafe (Jumping Jenny’s – named after Ruskin’s boat) we went to explore the house, and it’s just fascinating. I have read Ruskin until I think like him, sometimes, so it’s amazing to see where this fascinating Victorian sage actually lived. He bought Brantwood to try to save his sanity when overwrought by the enormous pressures of his life, and the views (right) are enough to save anyone’s sanity, and their soul too. When I think of Ruskin’s writings on landscape, its power to lift one to the sublime, and its effect on mood and even morality, these landscapes make sense of such comments.

The house is filled with objects that belonged to him, which make his study especially interesting (imagine! I could stand in Ruskin’s study!) but I gather it’s much tidier now than when he was alive! The bedroom is especially poignant, with its little turret specially built for the views over the lake, and the narrow bed where, a little sign says, he lay awake, going mad, seeing demons dancing on the bedposts. It’s tragic, but in a fascinating way.

The paintings, objets d’art and even architecture of the house seem properly Ruskinian – for example, the colonnade in the dining room, which he added himself, and the pictures he collected for the house, as well as other items of furniture, and wallpaper which he designed for his study and drawing room. It’s impossible not to be moved by it – although I think the details of Ruskin’s life are not necessarily brought out by the house as a museum; a bit of prior reading goes a long way here.

For more information, Brantwood has an informative website.