Thursday 18th December - Idle Moments

Ah, Thursday, my day of relative rest as I don't have anything pressing to do (which are fatal words to utter, as no doubt something will arise while I'm trying to put my feet up and do nothing). Just in case, I better get on with my post now...

Idle Moments (1892) Walter Langley

As I have said before, I'm rather partial to the Cornish school of art and is as far as I wish to go towards Impressionism (not really very far, it's just not my thing).  I also finally understood about the light in Cornwall when I went on holiday there.  It truly is magic. I have never seen anything like it, even in awful weather.  We were sat on a wall in Penlee in the rain eating a pasty and even then, the light was beautiful.

What attracted me to this particular picture is that no-one seems to have died and we are not waiting for a fishing boat to return (knowing full well that it won't).  I wonder if that is the pay-off to all that good light, that people seem to die far more frequently and tragically. Swings and roundabouts. Anyway, today we have a lass who is pausing her quilting in front of her window (such light!) in order to have a bit of a read. On the Penlee website they describe her as mending her quilt, which makes me wonder why she is also reading? Is her reading the 'idle moment' of the title, when she should be actively mending the quilt? As far as I can see, she could be construed as doing two things at once, which is hardly 'idle'...

I see on the windowsill she has what appears to be a geranium, which symbolises happiness, although some interpretations link them to folly, which is possibly hinted at in idleness. It is interesting that in a few of these paintings now we have had reading linked to doing nothing, especially when it is to do with women.  Is this a reflection on what it is assumed that women are reading? I am reminded of things like this, in contrast...

Johnstone Forbes-Robertson (1894) Hugh de Twenebrokes Glazebrook

Forbes-Robertson was an actor, but possibly also known to you as an artist's model (he's Love in Rossetti's Dante's Dream) and so when he had his portrait painted, he holds a book, probably Shakespeare to hint at his occupation. Male portraiture often had their subjects holding books, leaning on books, surrounded by books and so forth, to refer to their wisdom. No-one would call this picture Idle Moments or assume that by holding a book, JFR couldn't apply himself to his work.  Reading is somehow an appropriate male past-time. So why not for women?

Mary Ann Baxter (1883) Edward Hughes

Well, for starters, I'm going to propose that it is also class-based. There are not the numbers of female councillors/professors/mayors etc but they also get a nice book to hold/lean on etc. Miss Mary Ann Baxter, philanthropist, gets a lovely book to hold open on her knee and no-one would accuse her of being frivolous and idle. In her case, and that of most men in similar portraits, it is a token of intellect and often sturdily bound as if to imply that holder of the volume is equally as permanent and important.

By contrast, our lass at the window is reading what appears to be a pile of paper. There is no reason to assume that she is reading something trivial or that Miss Baxter is reading War and Peace, but that is what is implied by the material existence of their reading matter. There is also the implication that the important people are sat, fully involved in reading, giving it their full attention as befits the subject. The girls, snatching a moment to read their flimsy texts, are fitting it in, not giving it their full attention, implying it is probably something easily read in the idle moments at their disposal.

Time Moveth Not, Our Being 'tis That Moves (1882)

I love this older lady leaning on her book - is it a Bible or is it the poems of Henry Kirke White where the painting title comes? - in very much the same way as some mayors and professors lean on their books in portraits, but she is in deep thought. She is surrounded by the debris of a rural life, her dusty boots and clothes haphazardly on the wooden dryer, but she is considering eternity. In Langley's eye, a Cornish cottage and life contains only a few things - craft work, some rustic looking crockery and books. The books might be the Bible and things like that, but the ability to read is not questioned - how else are you meant to read about how many fishermen have perished that day? Unlike the more urban working classes, it is not questioned that the Cornish workers can read, just that possibly they have other stuff to do first.  Yes, our girl with the quilt can read, she just should finish mending the quilt first or it will never get done.

A Longing Gaze (1892)

As if to prove that reading would be no help, Langley painted her again still mending that damn quilt but this time day-dreaming out the window. Was her book taken off her? I suspect that quilt will remain unmended, despite the really good light.

See you tomorrow.