Exhibition Review: Beauty of the Earth

 As you will know, I don't like Twixtmas, or the bit between Christmas and New Year so I thought I'd jolly it up by visiting the exhibition currently at the Arc in Winchester, entitled Beauty of the Earth: The Art of May, Jane and William Morris...

Okay, here I would normally put an image of the poster, however, none of the ones I can find on line are very high resolution and so here is a link to the website.

Also normally I would put some images of the exhibition in my review and do a bit of faffing about on social media, but there was no photography allowed, which is an interesting move for things that are very much out of copyright.  I was also asked not to touch anything, which is probably a fair judgement of my character. I was then faced with these beautiful open scrolls of wallpaper on the wall rather than in frames, so I have no doubt that the room guides heard me exclaim 'Oh, come on!' and not for the only time in this exhibition. I'll come to that, but first the positives as they are plentiful.

Right, first things first, this is a beautiful exhibition. I was interested to see how, in a year of Morris-ness, there was anything new to say, but I never doubt Suzanne Fagence Cooper, and rightly so. The rooms at the Arc are not the largest of spaces, as I saw when I visited the Fred Appleyard exhibition there. The available hanging space is supplemented with freestanding walls and everything is covered in gorgeousness. You will see plenty you are familiar with but also plenty you aren't and for a small space, it is ambitious to coherently display the work of all the Morris family, especially when William (for obvious patriarchal reasons) can both dominate and exhaust by the sheer volume. I remember getting my very first exhibition-fatigue at the 1996 V&A William Morris exhibition which was endless. This is not only beautifully balanced but also ties the work of all Morrises together fairly. William isn't just a powerhouse, May isn't just an acolyte and Jane is more than a pretty face. They are so intertwined that it now feels a bit rude to take one from the context of the others. I also suspect William would have thoroughly approved of this approach as he doesn't strike me as the patriarchy (see below)...

Well said, comrade. 

Anyway, I was delighted to see all the wonderful textiles, possibly my favourite part of the exhibition, especially this one...

Daisy Wallhanging, worked by William and Jane Morris

God, I hope that's the one that was there, as that is a picture of it at Kelmscott Manor, but I'm sure it was on one of the panels.  I really like it because of its simplicity and whenever I see it I think 'I could do that!' (I couldn't, well, possibly given time and resources) which is another thing I think Mr Morris would like to hear.

The theme of the exhibition is a love of nature and that love being your home.  Thinking about it, Morris's work is filled with nature, so exploring the world of Morris through the trees, streams, birds and flowers that populate it seems, if you excuse the pun, natural. Not only that, but they themselves are often portrayed as being at one with nature, such as in this painting (which was a pleasure to see again)...

Snowdrops (1873) Dante Gabriel Rossetti

I sometimes wonder what Morris would make of the fact that we can't talk about his wife without Rossetti being involved. Again, it was a bit part of her early life, but it seems a shame as it isn't exactly a positive thing (no offence to anyone involved), which I think is why I was so pleased to also see this image...

Jane Morris (c.1900) Charles March Gere

I'm very familiar with Evelyn De Morgan's image of Jane in older age (I just checked her age and she's not that much older than me here) but I hadn't seen this before that I remembered and it is such a beautiful painting by Arts and Crafts illustrator Charles March Gere (1869-1957), who worked with the Kelmscott Press. Including this image did take the edge off the often-overwhelming 'She was Rossetti's Muse!' narrative you can get elsewhere, and I think it's time we de-centred dear old Dante Gabriel from everything (again, no offence to him as I love him) as I think we only do it because he was the sexy one. Allegedly. Anyway, he has no business in such a family exhibition about working and living within the landscape of England.

Orchard Bed Curtain worked by May Morris

This is a lovely exhibition and a smashing way to end the year.  The use of audible birdsong was very welcome - I always love when there are sensory aspects to exhibitions and the birds singing away above things like the Trellis wallpapers and Orchard Bed Curtains make the space feel very special indeed. It also benefits those among us of the neurodiverse community who get so much more from the experience.

As I was leaving there is a massive banner that fills the exit that says 'William Morris was Right' - well damn straight, but I am also a shallow baggage and I want to be able to take a selfie with that, but wasn't allowed, so again I exclaimed 'oh, come on!' and went off to the cafe...

Full disclosure and probably TMI but shortly before I reached the Arc this morning I fell over in the street, twisting my ankle and scabbed up my knee. A kind gentleman at the door said he was exactly the same when he was drunk (well, here we are) and I need to be careful at my age (so very elderly). The first aider at the Arc gave me a massive plaster, but I was a little perturbed as I viewed the exhibition I was not allowed to photograph (a small thing, but matters to me).  What made my mood infinitely better, despite my elderly infirmity, was the pasty I bought from the cafe, which had been made from the Morris family recipe. It was absolutely delicious. 

You have until 4th February to go and experience the glorious exhibition and eat a delious pasty, and I thoroughly recommend it.