Framing Icons: Hanging Old Masters

 “He’s slipped on the right”, I tell a patient Ray and Steve. Nimbly, blue-gloved hands raise the picture edge a fraction higher, straightening a two metre, grisaille Christ. It’s a Friday afternoon at the Hatton, and we are hanging ‘Framing Icons’, the gallery’s new display of Old Master paintings, opening 7th December.

 This is the first time for decades that a selection of the Hatton’s beautiful, pre-1800 paintings have been shown in their full glory, the subject of over a year’s careful conservation and reframing.

 Hanging 14 paintings and prints, you might think, should be fairly straightforward. Maybe a little more complicated than nailing in a few photo frames or sticking up some posters at home, but surely not a magnificently large task? Hanging even a small display of works, is in fact a rather big job, particularly when some of the paintings are over 600 years old.

 Firstly, there is the matter of transport. With fragile frames and surfaces, paintings need to be protected exceptionally well in transit, including being packed and sealed with many layers of protective padding and strapped to the inside of a van, which ideally has ‘air ride’ to stop it from bumping around, and is climate controlled, so that the picture remains in a steady temperature, as quick changes are potentially damaging to these fragile works.

 The route that a painting takes must be carefully thought out: even what seems like a small move from a storage location to the gallery requires point-by-point checking that the route is free from obstructions and potential risks, such as swinging doors and dashing students. Equally, the placement of the works needs to be carefully planned; adequate foam padding must be distributed in locations free from disruption and frequent movement, allowing the works to be safely positioned before their transition onto the wall.

Paintings are laid out ready to hang.
 
 

The preparation of an exhibition requires key involvement from the conservation team. Careful checks of the paintings must be made before they leave storage, and the same checks made once they reach the gallery space, ensuring that no change to the delicate surfaces has occurred during transit.

Rob Airey (Curator), Ray and Steve (Art Handlers) get to grips with ‘The Descent’.
 
 

Getting the pictures on the walls throws up new challenges. Firstly, there is the immediate task of ensuring that the pictures work well in their layout; for example, if you allow a painting to be hung so the subject is looking into a corner, this may create an unwanted statement about the work. Often, an exhibition can be planned to the last detail on paper, taking into consideration all of the theoretical reasons for hanging paintings in a certain order, but once the pictures are in the space this plan just does not seem to work, and an entirely new layout may have to be devised on the spot.

How high do you hang a painting? If a work was originally intended as an altarpiece, for example, should this effect be recreated by hanging the work high, prompting people to look up as someone may have done centuries ago? Or would it be more beneficial to hang the work lower, allowing people to inspect the beauty and skill behind the design? All of these things need to be decided before the hang takes place.

Steve and Ray measure the walls ready for ‘Holy Family’.
 
 

Another challenge is getting a painting to sit straight on a wall. It is rare that an Old Master painting will be absolutely straight at the edges, and even rarer that a century’s old frame will level off evenly. Equally, the floors, walls and ceilings of old buildings may not be entirely straight, throwing more potential wobble into the situation. So a curator will spend a fair amount of time standing back from an artwork, staring from this angle and that, to see if it appears straight. It seems that this is a skill developed over time, with seasoned curators able to tell a wonky painting at a quick glance.

 The weight of an early work, which may have been painted on wood panel, can be a strain on the burliest of art handlers. Often, manual machinery is used to carefully hoist the work to the required height before it is finally screwed into the wall (always with hand tools, never with the potentially uncontrollable power tool). Small platform lifts can be used to elevate an art handler to the required level for handling high paintings. All of these processes take time and require a patient team of art handlers and curators, with plenty of communication at every stage.

‘Descent from the Cross’ (after Daniele da Volterra) in the Hatton’s front gallery space.
 
 

Finally, labels and lighting need to be considered. Where do you place the labels: to the left, or to the right of the works? Should it be a consistent rule throughout? Should they be close-by or at a distance?  On a practical level, the ‘lux’ levels of light hitting works on paper can not be as high as those on a painting due to conservation reasons. Aesthetically, the effect of a spotlight on a painting can be dramatic, and could create an emphasis that isn’t necessarily intended.

 Of course, these details may be worries occupying the mind of the curator alone. Perhaps the best sign that an exhibition is doing a good job is when a visitor simply does not notice these details, transfixed instead by the magnificent paintings on show.

 

Framing Icons opens Friday 7th December 2012, and runs until February 2013. 

Model Visitors

I met a lovely couple the other week.  They’d phoned to make an appointment and then travelled up from Down South especially to see one of our ship models, the ss Newton Ash.  We have over 600 ship models in our collection so only a small proportion can be displayed at any one time, with the remainder kept in storage.  The Newton Ash is one of those in store, which meant only one thing…STORE TOUR!

The Maritime Store is amazing, packed to the gunwales with row after row of model sailing ships, steamers and motor vessels of all types and eras.  But first we headed to the ss Newton Ash.

The uncle of one of my visitors served aboard the Newton Ash and died when the ship was torpedoed on February 8th 1943.  His family was, of course, devastated, and the memory of the ship holds a special place in their history.  Our model, like the full-size ship, was built by W Pickersgill & Sons Ltd of Sunderland in about 1926.

Next, I was asked if we had anything to represent the very earliest days of steam navigation, and I remembered we had this:-

Wylam Colliery had pioneered the use of steam locomotives on its waggonway in 1813 with the Puffing Billy and Wylam Dilly but still depended on keels to transport its coal from the staiths at Lemington to Newcastle.  In 1822, Newcastle’s keelmen went on strike but the strike breakers had a cunning plan: They mounted Wylam Dilly in a keel, rigged it up to drive paddle wheels, and used it to tow the keels themselves, guarded by the local militia.  Apparently, the striking keelmen were so surprised at the sight that they momentarily forgot to throw stones!

One of my visitors then noticed our model of the World War II Liberty ship ss Samderwent of 1944.

In contrast to our fine builder’s models, the Samderwent is shown as she would have appeared in service during the war, streaked with rust and full to capacity with supplies for the Allied war effort, even carrying crates and an aeroplane on her hatch covers.  Notice the life rafts on slides above the deck, ready to be deployed at a moment’s notice.

Around the corner from the Samderwent is our wall of shipbuilders’ half-models.  Some of these are painted and “fitted out” with masts and deck fittings while others are marked with plating and frames for reference during construction of the full size vessels.

Nearby is a sign from Swan Hunter’s.  Whereas it once proudly advertised “Europe’s Leading Shipbuilders” to the world, it now sits across the aisle from the half models, another relic from our shipbuilding past.

Speaking of Swan Hunter’s and our shipbuilding past, we then headed back down to the public galleries where I introduced my guests to our splendid builder’s model of RMS Mauretania, the pride of the Tyne, on permanent display in our 1st floor Tyneside Challenge gallery.

Completed, like the real thing, by Swan Hunter & Wigham Richardson in 1907, this beautiful model is 16 feet long.  To give an idea of Mauretania’s size, we’ve put a model of Turbinia at her bow, to the same scale.  When you think what a squeeze it was go get the full size Turbinia into Discovery Museum’s central atrium, imagine the size of Mauretania!  She would have towered over the museum and was as long as the street outside.  In those days, we built some seriously big stuff!

Finally, I led my visitors around to the Story of the Tyne gallery, also on the 1st floor, to share with them another collection highlight, our colossal 42 foot long model of…well…the whole of Tyneside!

This was built for the 1929 North East Coast Exhibition and shows the length of the river from Scotswood toTynemouth in amazing detail.  Every bridge, dock and pier is there, and all of the shipyards, factories, coal mines, railways, tramways, streets, parks and public buildings as they existed in 1929.  It’s ace!

My two guests then popped into Archives for a spot of family history research.  It had been a real pleasure for me to share some of our collections with such enthusiastic folks, and I began to feel a blog coming on…

Bye Bye Fashion Works

Since this is my first blog post on the TWAM website I thought I’d write about something I cared a lot about and that is the deinstallation of the Fashion Works gallery on the second floor of Discovery Museum. Popular since it opened in 1995 it has played a big role in the shaping of the museum but is now one of the oldest galleries in the museum. Permanent galleries in museums tend to have a life span of 15 to 20 years before they are updated.

Fashion Works gave an insight into local department stores along with the work associated with seamstresses. Recently key pieces of work from Northumbria University students were added to the gallery to provide a contemporary focus.

Fashion Works closed to the public on 11th November 2012. It took a team of museum staff including conservators, documentation and curatorial teams a week to remove all of the collection. Items were photographed in preparation for the collection being accessible online. Volunteers helped to hoover the surfaces of the more historic and fragile items. Since the gallery has been open for long this was a welcome chance to clean the dresses and to give them a ‘rest’. Displaying garments for a long period can subject the fabric to stress so it’s good to give them a chance to be cleaned and taken off the mannequins.

The next step is for the material to go back to store where it will be repacked and all of the data in our collections database will be updated with photographs and new locations for the material. Its quite a big job and will take weeks if not months to complete!

 

I played a part in taking down Fashion Works on the 15th November with the history team. My role involved packing up case number nine. It is an original from the Fenwick department store. It was filled with brochures and catalogues mainly from Fenwick and Bainbridges. It was fascinating, for me personally, to delve into the fashion industry in the early 20th century, and to compare and contrast how much it has changed, mainly in its use of advertising and how much fashion has progressed in the years.

It is a shame we have had to wave goodbye to Fashion Works however we are excited about the new exhibition which will replace it by summer 2013.

The collections from Fashion Works will still be available to the public through store visits, open days and future exhibitions.

A new find at Arbeia Roman Fort

A team of volunteers who worked with the Archaeology team at Arbeia Roman Fort recently uncovered a new Roman find. Alex Croom, Keeper of Archaeology at Arbeia, tells us more about it in this short film. (Click on the image to view the film)

Arbeia Roman Fort short film about a Roman hair pin

 

‘Pre-Raphaelite truth to nature’ – a watercolour by John Frederick Lewis

Surrounded by tell-tale feathers, this little cat raises a paw, ready to strike again. Its prey is actually a peacock-feather fan, which a young woman is dangling teasingly above its head. Both the cat and its owner feature in an outstanding watercolour, Hhareem Life, Constantinople by John Frederick Lewis, which is on show in Watercolour Stars at the Laing Art Gallery until November 25th, and then in Painted Faces from December 5th through summer 2013.

Those markings on the cat’s shoulder are discs of sunshine filtered through a window lattice. The complex changes of colour on the animal’s fur and the white couch-cover show just how skilled JF Lewis was at depicting the fall of light.

'Hhareem Life, Constantinople', 1857, Laing Art Gallery, B8032

The influential Victorian art critic John Ruskin considered that JF Lewis’s watercolours were comparable to those of the Pre-Raphaelite painters for ‘truth to nature’. The fantastic details and colours of Lewis’s pictures made them enormously popular with audiences of his day, who were also fascinated by his exotic sun-filled subjects from lands far away.

The little cat in Lewis’s picture created a bond with those viewers who would have seen their own cats behaving the same manner. But Lewis had another way of inviting viewers to connect imaginatively with the scene – he included a pair of legs reflected in the mirror on the wall – they are probably intended to represent the artist or even ourselves.

 

Lewis painted his picture in tremendous detail, giving all the aspects almost equal attention, in the manner of the Pre-Raphaelite artists. Lewis used gouache (watercolour mixed with white pigment) to create his brilliant colours, with white paint for some highlights. The details were ‘true to nature’ in the sense that they were carefully studied from real objects, but this was not a real-life scene. Lewis certainly never entered the women’s rooms of a harem (Lewis’s spelling of hhareem was intended to reflect Eastern pronunciation of the word). His model for one or both of the women was probably his wife, Marian, whom he married in 1847 and who appears in many of his pictures. It’s likely that he based the room setting on sketches of his Cairo home, where he was living in the 1840s, though he probably added extra decoration.

'The Carpet Seller', 1860, Blackburn Museum and Art Gallery

Lewis lived for a nearly a year in Istanbul (then known as Constantinople), in Turkey, in 1840-41, and then spent nine years in Cairo in Egypt. In Cairo, Lewis immersed himself in local life, wearing traditional clothing and living in a grand 16th-century house. Lewis often put himself in his Middle Eastern scenes – his watercolour of a carpet seller is a self-portrait. Lewis brought back sketches, fabrics and objects when he returned to England in 1851. He didn’t actually paint Hhareem Life, Constantinople until six years after his return, at his home in Surrey. (Lewis’s pick and mix approach to his compositions is shown by the way he reused the woman’s green jacket in a scene painted a year later, which was supposedly set in Cairo rather than Constantinople.)

Other JF Lewis paintings can be seen on these web pages – Victorian web, Tate, Victoria and Albert Museum, and Birmingham Museums and Art Gallery (best check with the museum before visiting if you would like to see them).