Facing the river Thames from beneath one of its bridges

Posted on by
Reply

THE BRIDGE THAT traverses the River Thames closest to London’s Tate Britain Gallery is Vauxhall Bridge. When viewed from the river’s embankments, this structure with 5 spans (arches over the water) can be seen to be adorned with statues on each of its four piers on both sides of the bridge, four facing downstream, and four facing upstream. These sculptures cannot be seen when you are on the bridge.

The bridge was opened for use in 1906. At that time, there were no sculptures on it. While it was being constructed, many prominent architects considered it to be too functional, not sufficiently appealing to the eye.  It was decided by many including the renowned architect Richard Norman Shaw (1831-1912) to put up bronze statues on the bridge’s piers.

Two sculptors were chosen to create the sculptures:  Alfred Drury (1856 – 1944), who made the pieces that face downstream, and Frederick W. Pomeroy (1856 – 1924) whose figures face upstream. Installed in 1907, the bronzes are depictions of persons representing Science, Fine Arts, Education, Local Government, Agriculture, Architecture, Engineering, and Pottery (see: https://thetidalthames.com/2022/02/06/the-vauxhall-bridge-statues/).

Today, the bridge carries much traffic, and is overlooked on both sides by tall buildings erected in the last few years. Their simple lines and functional designs make a sharp contrast with the relatively decorative bridge with its eight sculptures. Close to the northern edge of the bridge, next to a block of flats, there is another sculpture, which was made by one of Britain’s leading twentieth century artists, Henry Moore.

Curving walls and a cafe in Kensington Gardens

Posted on by
Reply

THE LATEST TEMPORARY pavilion erected next to the Serpentine South Gallery in Kensington Gardens is made mainly with bricks. Designed by Lanza Atelier, a Mexican architectural practice.

The pavilion’s curving ‘crinkle crankle’ walls are not merely decorative. The curvature adds stability to the walls, and thus reduces the number of bricks required to keep the wall standing.

Although the bricks form part of a functional structure, the pavilion is itself quite sculptural. When we were in Bombay in late 2025, we visited the Sakshi Gallery, and viewed works by Teja Gavankar. She used bricks to create sculptures which are architectural in sentiment, but completely functionless. The pavilion lies somewhere between pure sculpture and functional construction. Seeing it reminded me of Gavankar’s artworks.

As is usual with the Serpentine Pavilions, this latest one houses a counter where refreshment s can be purchased. The pavilion will remain in the park until 25 October 2026.

Modern art on display in an English country house setting

Posted on by
Reply

CLAYDON HOUSE IN Buckinghamshire has been owned by the Verney family since 1620. It has been owned by the National Trust since 1956. Filled with beautifully and quite fantastically decorated rooms, the house contains many works of art – paintings, sculptures, furniture, etc – collected by the Verneys.

Until 14 September 2026, the house and its gardens are hosting an exhibition of contemporary artworks. These have been provided by the White Cube group of art galleries. More than 40 works from their collection are on display. The artists, whose work can be seen at Claydon House include (to name but a few): David Altmejd, Tracey Emin, Theaster Gates, Antony Gormley, Anselm Kiefer, Isamu Noguchi, Raqib Shaw, and Cai Guo-Qiang. These and others make a very impressive line-up. Some of the works are in the gardens, but most of them are within the house, mingling with the Verney’s own collection of objets d’art.

From the point of view of looking at these artworks, I see little point in showing them in the historic setting of Claydon House. There is something faintly amusing seeing the contemporary artwork almost competing with the variety of picturesque items within the house, which were created many years before their existence. As for the sculptures in the garden, I liked their settings.

After seeing the White Cube’s offerings at Claydon House, a thought occurred to me. The Verney’s collection of art and the interior décor of their residence reflected the aesthetic tastes of the house’s owners over the centuries. It was art that was collected by wealthy landowners who lived at Claydon and wanted to keep up with latest fashions. What I wondered was whether the family would have bought artworks such as were being lent by White Cube had they still been living in the house today. After all, what is sold by White Cube is mostly only affordable by private individuals with considerable wealth. And had the Verney family continued to live in the grand, opulent style that is reflected in the rooms of Claydon House, they might well have been tempted to add some of the kind of art – maybe not the most adventurous pieces – sold by White Cube to their collection.

Both the mansion with its historical décor and artworks and the exhibits provided by White Cube make it well worth visiting Claydon House.

An artist brings her troubled life to the eyes of the public: Tracey Emin

Posted on by
Reply

AT TATE MODERN in London until 31 August 2026, there is a superb exhibition of works by the artist Tracey Emin. Daughter of a Romany mother and Turkish Cypriot father, she was born in Croydon in 1963, and brought up in Margate (Kent). Her education in art was at Medway College of Design, where she studied fashion, then at Maidstone Art College, where she graduated in printmaking. Later, she studied at London’s Royal College of Art, and was awarded a MA in painting.

The exhibition at the Tate includes a huge variety of Emin’s artworks: paintings, sculptures, installations (including the unmade bed for which she has become well-known), prints, photographs, videos, and more. There is a room containing a replica of her studio. The exhibits are beautifully arranged, and help to immerse the viewer in depictions of the world and her experiences of living in it. The artist has had a very traumatic life resulting from sexual encounters (including rape as a child), and their often-undesired consequences. Through her artworks she shares the troubles she has experienced with the outside world. Visitors to the exhibition, who might be prudish, might well be shocked by some of what they see in it. However, one should stifle one’s qualms and prejudices, if you have any, and savour the artist’s skills.

Whatever one might think about the subject matter in her art, there is no doubt that Tracey Emin is a talented, highly creative and imaginative artist. The evidence of this is plain to see in the current show at Tate Modern.

Bandhani: special textiles made in Kachchh (Kutch) in the west of India

Posted on by
Reply

HERE IS ANOTHER EXTRACT from the draft of my forthcoming book, “Road To Heaven. A Passage through India”. about recent travels in west and south India. This sample describes a type of textile that is made in Kachchh (Kutch) in the west of India. This piece relates to the town of Mandvi.

“One type of fabric, for which Kachchh is noted is bandhani.   It is a method of tie-dyeing that is frequently used by textile workers in Kachchh. Knots are tied in the piece of material that is to be dyed, and then the knotted fabric is dipped into a vat of dye. The dye colours all the material except the parts enclosed within the knots. Let me explain the procedure.  Starting with the ‘raw’ cloth that is usually whitish in colour, craftworkers gather small amounts of the material using their fingertips, and tie these small bundles with thread. The bundles are tied according to a predetermined pattern drawn on the cloth.  The tied cloth is then dipped into a dye. When the dyeing is completed and dried, a new set of knots is tied on the already knotted cloth. The cloth is then dipped into a different coloured dye. A new set of knots is sometimes then tied according to the kind of design that has been planned, and the cloth is dipped into yet another colour dye. This process of tying and dyeing can be repeated several times. After the several cycles of tying and dying are completed, the cloth is stretched, the knots undo noisily (a crackling sound can be heard as the threads break), and a textile with a fascinatingly complex and beautiful pattern is revealed. The bandhani process is complicated and very demanding. Consequently, the these fabrics are quite highly priced and highly prized.

On our visits to Mandvi, including during our most recent one, we have visited an old shop where bandhani fabrics are made and sold. Its current owner, Mr Ashraf Katri, always remembers us when we stop at his shop. He told us that the business has been in existence for at least 150 years. That means the present generation of the family working in the establishment is the fourth or fifth since it first opened. On a couple of occasions, Mr Katri has shown us some bandhani cloth that was made over 100 years ago. The patterning on this old cloth is far more intricate and finely detailed than any bandhani produced today. Mr Katri explained that it must have been made by someone with very tiny fingers, possibly a young child, because only someone with such small digits would have been able to tie the minute knots needed to create such an exquisitely detailed pattern.”

Hazards and memories of childhood on Hampstead Heath

Posted on by
Reply

DURING MY CHILDHOOD in the late 1950s and early 1960s, I used to walk on London’s Hampstead Heath with my parents. Usually, we left our home in Hampstead Garden Suburb and walked south across the manicured, grassy fields of Hampstead Heath Extension. Sometimes, we went further, crossing Wildwood Road and entering the wilder, hillier, wooded part of the Heath until we reached the Spaniards Road.

The part of the heath that extends between Wildwood and Spaniards Roads contains a few hollows in which there are bogs. Back in my childhood, there used to be signs posted within these boggy hollows. They read:

“DANGER SWAMPY GROUND”

My mother, who was always a little too anxious about her children’s safety, drilled it into my sibling and me that we should never stray close to these swampy depression. She warned us that should we enter them, we would be sucked down below the surface, and lost forever, and fatally. Whenever I saw these signs, I used to want to hurry away from them.

Today, 10 June 2026, almost 60 years later, a friend of ours took us to see the swamps, which are exactly where I remember seeing them so many decades earlier. I believe that I had not seen them since the 1960s. To my great disappointment, the warning signs were no longer there. However, the bogs or swamps have become beautiful with leafy plants and trees growing in them. Seeing them after such a long interval reminded me of my childhood, but my fear of them seems to have evaporated.

From Hiroshima in Japan to High Street Kensington in London

Posted on by
Reply

KYOTOGRAPHIE IS ONE of Asia’s largest festivals of photography. Both Japanese photographers, Kawada Kikuji (born 1933) and Iwane Ai (born 1975), have exhibited their images at this festival. Works by these highly acclaimed photographers are on display at a temporary exhibition being held at Japan House London, in High Street Kensington, until 18 October 2026.

At Hiroshima, by Kawada Kikuji

I have viewed many exhibitions of photography over the years, but few of them, if any, can rival what I saw at Japan House. Not only is the quality and content of each image amazingly good, but also the design (layout and display) of the exhibition space is itself a highly original work of art. To use a well-worn expression, this show ‘takes one’s breath away’.

Amongst the beautiful photographs on display, there are several relating to the domed structure which miraculously remained standing in the heart of Hiroshima after the atom bomb had been dropped on the city in 1945. These images were made in black and white by Kawada Kikuji. Some of them are almost abstract, but they are very moving. His other photographs are quite unlike any I have seen in the past. On the wall facing these pictures, there is a message in both Japanese and English, which reads:

“The voices calling for nuclear disarmament always disappear into the depths of the earth.”

Iwane Ai’s photographs, unlike most of Kawada’s, are coloured, but there are a few which are not. Some of the images are on curved screens, around which viewers can walk. One intriguing set of pictures has typically Japanese subject matter: cherry blossom. However, her photographs were taken during the covid19 pandemic when, unlike normal times, these trees blossomed in the absence of the usual crowds who come to see them.

Words cannot do justice to this fine exhibition. If you can get to see it, you will not be disappointed.

This artist shines lights on life in modern India

Posted on by
Reply

BORN IN MYSORE (Mysuru) in 1969, the Indian artist NS Harsha lives and works in that city. He studied art first at Mysore’s Chamarajendra Academy of Visual Arts, and then at Maharaja Sayajirao University in Baroda (Vadodara). Until 31 July 2026, there is a wonderful exhibition of his large paintings at the Victoria Miro Gallery in London.

Almost all of Harsha’s beautifully executed paintings in the show contain depictions of lighted oil lamps (diyas), often many in a single work. In some paintings, the oil lamps are arranged to form regular patterns. In others, they are interspersed with images of people, animals, food, and items used in daily life. The numerous people who appear in these works are frequently workers in their overalls and hard hats (helmets), animals, and people planting crops. From a visual point of view, the paintings are very pleasing even if one has no idea what, if any, message the artist is attempting to convey. Although they depict contemporary subjects and far from being miniature, they hark back to the historical traditions of Indian Miniature paintings.

In a web page produced by the Chemould (Prescott Road) Gallery in Bombay, I read that:

“Like a chronicler, often drawing from popular stories and local perceptions of international news events, Harsha depicts in his canvasses small town/city Indian life in our increasingly globalized times. His intricately detailed canvasses juxtapose seemingly disassociated images of scenes of small town and village India with those of more recognizably international ones. Harsha’s multi-layered narratives strongly suggest that the global is always already located within the local imagination.”

Regarding the lamps in the paintings, the Victoria Miro website explained:

“The works, which elaborate on the artist’s celebrated, ongoing ‘lamp grid’ series, feature diyas – lamps traditionally made from clay that are lit during rituals, prayers, ceremonies, celebrations and during power cuts – with flames and trails of smoke together creating patterns that guide the eye around each canvas …  In Harsha’s work they represent energy, forces perhaps unseen.”

This interesting interpretation is useful enough, but the paintings alone speak for themselves, and throw an intriguing light on contemporary life in India.

I enjoyed viewing this exhibition, and becoming aware of a fascinating artist, whom I had not come across before.