Thursday, 30 May 2019

Where's the Ley of the Land, my son?:John Michell's Enchanted Landscape.

"A great scientific instrument lies sprawled over the entire surface of the globe" - John Michell.

Full disclosure. I had never even heard of John Michell before the London Fortean Society announced last night's John Michell's Enchanted Landscape Talk at The Bell in Whitechapel (a pub that no longer takes cash but does serve pleasant enough pizza, I had one before the talk began) and I'd not made it a priority to do a great deal of research before I arrived either.

These Michell talks seem to be like buses. It's presumably pure coincidence that the next SELFS talk (a fortnight from today), The Megalithic John Michell, is also (as the name may suggest) about Michell. Then again, as last night's speaker, folklorist and London cemetery expert Rob Stephenson, provided March's SELFS talks about the myths and history of the river Thames who knows?

It didn't matter. As that SELFS event had been superb I was convinced I was in for a good evening. But I still had to find out quite a lot more about who John Michell actually was so it was fortunate that Rob kicked off with something of a dummy's guide to the man born in London in 1933 and variously described as scholar, a polymath, a writer, a Fortean, and someone, who from the late sixties onwards, became the reluctant head of the counter culture.


He wrote thirty-eight books and developed theories on many subjects, particularly UFOs and landscape. The latter, as you may have ascertained from the talk's title, was to be our vague focus last night. I say 'vague' because the talk did jump from Michell to his influences and contemporaries and back again quite often. It was a lot to take in but no less interesting for that.

Stephenson claimed Michell, who died in 2009, as a friend and began his account with a story of being given a lift back to London in Michell's beaten up Morris Minor, you could see the road speeding by beneath the worn away floorboards, back in 1984 and said the last time they spoke was around about 2000 when attending a Megalithomania conference.

In those two brief anecdotes you get a very real sense of Michell's mixture of mysticism and its grounding in day-to-day, even somewhat humdrum, reality. Born in London and raised in Berkshire, Michell became head boy at Cheam School (a prep) and eventually settled in Powis Square in Notting Hill. On its own that sounds like a pleasant, ordinary, life but Michell also believed he was a channel for revelations from the Gods.

It's here you might start scratching your chin but these Fortean events aren't about taking sides, just telling stories and letting the listeners decide. In 1967, aged 35, with a failed career as an estate agent behind him, Michell released his first book - The Flying Saucer Vision - you can probably guess what that one was about. Two years later he followed it with The View Over Atlantis. A tome that, for many, added depth to the British landscape.




By the time Michell released his third book, City of Revelation, about global 'sacred measures' and esoteric numbers that, somehow, the ancient Greeks had managed to forget about some were claiming he was a genius. Others a fraud. Either way, Michell didn't come up with his ideas out of the blue and Rob led us on a whistle stop tour through a fairly comprehensive list of figures who were influential on his thinking and writing. Which meant a whole new load of people I'd never heard of!


Starting with the 'dedicated' Herefordshire antiquarian Alfred Watkins who, after his retirement, between the age of 66 and 76, devoted much of his life to researching why ancient sites appeared to be aligned. Watkins wrote Early British Trackways in 1922 and followed it up three years later with The Old Straight Track. In these books he'd show how the locations of white horses, stone markers, and even Dragon Hill in Uffington (where it is alleged that St George slew the dragon) could, if you drew the right straight line, all be aligned.


Watkins also proposed the theory that early Christian churches had been erected on top of ancient megalithic sites in an attempt, successful it would seem, to entice people into them. As much appropriation as syncretism it seems.

Next up was Tony Wedd, ex-RAF pilot and New Age thinker - which sounds an unlikely combination. Wedd lived near Hampstead Heath and when out walking on the Heath he said he saw UFOs and that they were flying in straight lines (as flying things tend to do, to be fair, or any moving thing trying to get from A to B in the fastest possible time) and that these aliens had been deliberately planted in Scots pine in ancient times. He discovered Boudicca's Mound on the Heath (it's still debated if it's actually the final resting place of the 1c Iceni queen) and found it to align with Westminster Abbey.


Wedd sounds a character! More historical influences include the German born Protestant missionary to China Ernst Johann Eitel who, as well as publishing a Cantonese dictionary, wrote a book about feng shui in 1873 which Michell had republished exactly a century later. Going further back there is evidence that Michell was inspired by the antiquarian William Stukeley (1687-1765) who is buried in Walthamstow and William Blake (1757-1827) who inspired Michell's idea that parts of Britain were in fact a new Jerusalem and that Glastonbury, in which Michell took a special interest, was the sight of Britain's first Christian church and that Jesus Christ himself had visited it. "Did these feet in ancient times" and all that.

It's unclear if Michell's interest in Glastonbury was what inspired local farmer Michael Eavis to hold a festival there but it's firmly believed and oft said that Michell was the man who persuaded Eavis to make the main stage in the shape of a pyramid. Based, apparently, on the Great Pyramid of Cheops in Giza!

 


Eavis wasn't Michell's most famous acquaintance either. He knew Mick Jagger (who seems to know pretty much everyone) and Prince Charles (which sounds surprising but remember he talks to his vegetables). Michell also campaigned, both in the UK and in the US, to "stop metric madness" which seems quite reactionary for such a free thinker but imperial measurements were vital to his concept of 'sacred measures'.

Sacred measures, it seems, could be used to draw ley lines between sites of ancient importance globally. Professor Alexander Thom (yep, another one I'd not heard of), in his retirement, surveyed ancient sites both in the UK and France and proposed a 'uniformity of division' between sites and Tony Morrison's 1978 book Pathway to the Gods:The Andes Lines 'proved' that this was not just a quirky European thing but could be observed as far away as South America too.

Michell used the term 'traditional dragon sites' and discovered that the longest line you could draw between two points in the south of England led from St Michael's Mount in Cornwall to St Michael's in Norfolk via Glastonbury and many other ancient sites including Avebury (where, Rob informed us, it is believed that the avenue of the stones forms the shape of a snake!). Obviously this became known as the St Michael's Line or St Michael's Alignment and it certainly sounds a good, if pretty challenging, future walking project!

Michell's books kept coming and Rob had to rush through them so fast that I hardly had time to jot down what they were all about! In 1975 a survey of megaliths, The Old Stones of Land's End, was released as well as The Earth Spirit which took on philosophy, religion, and alchemy among other things. 1977 saw A Little History of Astro-Archaeology (Stonehenge, the summer solstice, and crop circles crop up in the talk, obvs) and a co-write with Bob Rickard called Phenomena:A Book of Wonders that looked at supposedly unexplained weird stuff like fish falling out of the sky and frogs in stones, 1979's Simulacra took a look at things that looked strangely human, in '81 he released Ancient Metrology which drilled down even further on Stonehenge and other ancient monuments of similar design and seems to have inspired his New Jerusalem diagram (below), and 1982's Megalithomnia gave John Michell a chance to show off his skills as an artist too.








On top of all this Michell found time to be a high level provocateur. He put out a pamphlet that called Jesus a 'great cock', released a hip-pocket guide of Adolf Hitler's best quotes and, in 1996, was responsible for the book Who Wrote Shakespeare? The latter may actually have been a serious attempt to question the authenticity of authorship of Macbeth and Twelfth Night and, even if it wasn't, some seem to take it very seriously.


So who was this man who looked like Jon Pertwee's Dr Who, drove a beat up Morris Minor, obsessed over megaliths, wrote books about fish falling from the sky, had a hand in starting up the Glastonbury festival, and had Jools Holland play the piano at his funeral? Was he a mad conspiracy theorist? Some kind of Situationist prankster? A serious antiquarian? A great historian? A seer? Or just an absolute huckster?

I think there's an element of truth in most, if not all, of those things. There's also an element of falsehood. Michell loved the company of eccentrics and enjoyed kicking against authority. If you posited one theory, he'd chose the complete opposite. In 1983 he released The New View Over Atlantis so it seems his most lasting, and important, work was in the (quite literally sometimes) field of landscape although next fortnight's SELFS talk may change my mind on that entirely!

Speaker Rob Stephenson said he'd felt the tingle of old stones and a Q&A touched on subjects like the Stone Tape, Nigel Kneale, Dostoevsky, John Wood (the 18c architect responsible for many of Bath's most impressive buildings), and the Ridgeway while the talk itself touched on John Constable's Double Rainbow painting (below), the 'sensitive dowser' Guy Underwood's The Patterns of the Past (about how ancient sites were supposedly sited by water divining), and the 'tortured genius' (both sensitive dowser and tortured genius were Rob's descriptions, not mine) William Stirling whose book, The Canon:An Exposition of the Pagan Mystery Perpetuated in the Cabala as the Rule of all Arts, took the author fifty years to write (five on the title alone by the sounds of it) and, when it was ignored, saw Stirling take his own life.



All of which would have been a lot to squeeze into an already fairly exhaustive account of an overwhelming but informative, fascinating, and fun evening. I certainly hadn't understood all of it and I certainly didn't believe there was much in a great deal of it but, like Michell, I love eccentrics and he certainly sounds like one. Once again, I thank both Rob Stephenson and the London Fortean Society for yet another great evening. More on John Michell soon, no doubt!

Wednesday, 29 May 2019

I've Seen That Face Before:Visions of the Self at the Gagosian Gallery.

"I paint self-portraits because I am so often alone. I am the person I know best" - Frida Kahlo.

There was nothing by Frida Kahlo at the Gagosian's recent Visions of the Self:Rembrandt and Now exhibition but there were some pretty big name artists showing. Roy Lichtenstein, Lucian Freud, Gerhard Richter, Francis Bacon, Man Ray, and Georg Baselitz just for starters. Oh, and Rembrandt too of course. You can't put Rembrandt's name in a show and not have any of his work there. Surely?

In fact the whole show was based around the loan of Rembrandt's Self-Portrait with Two Circles (c.1665) from Kenwood which, the curators claim, gave them "a unique opportunity to reflect on the directions self-portraiture has taken in this century" before going on to waffle on about Sigmund Freud's investigations of the role of the unconscious in human behaviour, physiognomy as a clue to individual character, and the psychological intensity of the self-portrait.

Even if you don't buy into that stuff (and I do, some of it anyway) there are some great paintings on show here. I wrote about Basquiat's Barbican show back in 2017 and his 1986 painting, The Thinker, is one of many highlights on show at the Gagosian. If it's psychological intensity you're looking for this painting is bursting with it and the clues to individual character suggest a man exploding inside with ideas, anxieties, and passion. A bit like me really!


Jean-Michel Basquiat - The Thinker (1986)


Howard Hodgkin - Portrait of the Artist (1984-1987)


Giuseppe Penone - Roversciare i propri occhi (1970)

Elsewhere the idea of the self-portrait stretches from the abstract and brightly coloured work of Howard Hodgkin to the monochrome and almost, except the eyes, pictorially accurate work of Giuseppe Penone. I'm not sure if those blank eyes are supposed to be reflecting vacancy or monitoring us without emotion.

I love Glenn Brown's work (and wrote a fairly length piece about him back in March 2018) and even in a show with names as big as Pablo Picasso and Basquiat, Brown still holds his own. Is he saying his role as a painter is somehow akin to that of both a clown (the red nose) and a Shakespearean thespian (the ruff) or perhaps he's just saying that he's how he personally feels. Certainly the image doesn't scream Sex like its title does! 


Glenn Brown - Sex (2003)


Gerhard Richter - Hofkirche Dresden (Court Chapel Dresden) (2000)


Damien Hirst - With Dead Head (1991)

Gerhard Richter's first inclusion appears, initially, to be a photograph but it's an oil painting made intentionally to give the impression of a blurry snap. It's certainly much more big and clever than Damien Hirst's rather tiresome actual photograph of him posing with a dead head. If I'd devoted my body to medical science I don't think I'd want the young, or the older for the matter, Hirst larking around with my severed head. Maybe permission was given but to me it seems both distasteful and disrespectful.

Worse still, as a piece of art it's frankly pretty shit. Cindy Sherman's work finds much more favour in these quarters. She seems to actually say interesting things about identity, the male gaze, and female representation in the art world. Next to her a standard Georg Baselitz and a weak Lucian Freud (there's a better one in the show later) suffer in comparison.


Cindy Sherman - Untitled #220 (1990)


Georg Baselitz - Grosse Nacht (1962-1963)


Lucian Freud - Hand Mirror in a Chair (1966)


Nathaniel Mary Quinn - Self-Portrait After Rembrandt (2019)

Not that it's a competition. It's good to see relatively new and, to me at least, unknown artists like Nathaniel Mary Quinn up on the walls next to Freud and Egon Schiele. Quinn holds himself well in such elated company. I actually prefer his soft cubist Self-Portrait After Rembrandt to Schiele's gouache work but, to be fair, it was probably the best Schiele the curators could get.

Richard Prince's Instagram post that hopes to show us the nature of a person is their social media account these days is an interesting concept but comes off here as a bit of a novelty. Which is true of a fairly large amount of Jeff Koons' work. He's at least made an effort to fit in with the Rembrandt theme and the gazing ball looks pretty.


Egon Schiele -Self portrait (1910)


Richard Prince - Untitled (Portrait) (2019)


Jeff Koons - Gazing Ball (Rembrandt Self-Portrait Wearing a Hat) (2015)


Urs Fischer - Untitled (2011)

The work of both Urs Fischer and Rudolf Stingel could certainly not be said to be pretty but they're two of the best on show, both nearby and complementing each other like two daytime drinkers on separate tables in a soulless Wetherspoons pub, both showing a man who looks like he's probably had better times. 'Fischer' sits alone at a table pondering his existence while 'Stingel' looks utterly forlorn, the blurry way the image has been made up giving it almost the air of a crime scene shot.

There's a photo from Man Ray that's far from one of his most interesting and there's a slide projection by Ellen Gallagher showing Mr Freud, him again, at work that won't tell you anything you don't already know. Dora Maar knocks them both into a cocked hat. Long dismissed as a muse and lover of Picasso, her 1939 Portrait de femme shows she was no slouch herself. It may look like something a creative/unhinged kid may draw in the back of their exercise book to avoid studying hard during mathematics but that strengthens, rather than weakens, its appeal.


Rudolf Stingel - Untitled (2012)


Man Ray - Self Portrait (1924)


Ellen Gallagher - Odalisque (2013)


Dora Maar - Portrait de femme (autoportrait) (1939)


Glenn Brown - The Hurdy-Gurdy (2019)


Francis Bacon - Three Studies for a Portrait including a Self-Portrait (1967)


Jenny Saville - Untitled (2019)

There's another great Glenn Brown work, a Bacon triptych which is (of course) excellent, and, better than both of them there's Jenny Saville's 2019 untitled piece. I've loved Saville's work in the past and that love is ongoing. She seems a natural heir to the likes of Freud and Bacon and it was a neat trick placing her visceral portrait near to Lichtenstein's delightful abstract yellow and monochrome job.

They played off each other well. Not sure about Richter's Spiegel though. Who's that guy?


Roy Lichtenstein - Self-Portrait II (1976)


Gerhard Richter - Spiegel (2008)


Charles Ray - Male Mannequin (1990)

Yes, it's me and just in case you're wondering I was not the model for Charles Ray's Male Mannequin. But after all the faces on show it's easy to forget that bodies (and, indeed, it seems, cocks) can be part of self-portraiture too. Bold move by Ray. Wonder if he added a bit on or he's being honest?

Andy Warhol, famously, enjoyed the spotlight (though to the best of my knowledge kept his pants on in his self-portraits) and there's a couple of his here. One from the eighties, one from the sixties, that show you what his work was like. If you like Warhol, you'll probably like them. If you don't you won't learn a lot but Warhol was never about education.

Robert Mapplethorpe was not an artist shy of inserting a penis into his work or, of course, his body. The explicit nature of some of his photos earned me a three day Facebook ban once but his inclusion in this show is pretty tame in comparison. A trifle dull even.


Andy Warhol - Self-Portrait (1986)


Robert Mapplethorpe - Self-Portrait (1988)


Andy Warhol - Self-Portrait (1966-1967)

I'd enjoyed the show. It hadn't really told a coherent narrative about the development of the self-portrait in the last one hundred years though. Instead it had just shown lots of different ways that mostly well known, mostly very good artists had approached it. I signed out with a trademark Francis Bacon and, of course, the Rembrandt that kicked the whole thing off but for me, and I repeat I know it's not a competition, the works I enjoyed most were by Lichtenstein, Maar, Fischer, Stingel, Brown, Quinn, and, of course, Basquiat. 

If you want a realistic self-portrait of me read all of my 504 blogs from end to end. Or offer to paint me.


Francis Bacon - Self Portrait (1972)



Rembrandt - Self Portrait with Two Circles (c.1665)

Joe Tilson:The Clones of Venice.

Far be it from me to knock a nonagenarian but the Venetian paintings that were on show at the Marlborough Gallery in London's Joe Tilson:New Paintings exhibition were all a bit samey. It's not that they were unpleasant or anything. It was just hard to get particularly excited about this collection of harlequin designs and sandboxes for computer games.

Lots of nice colours and no doubt Tilson had a lovely time in Venice looking at, and painting, old churches - but there's not really a great deal to be gathered for the casual viewer. It's like looking at a stranger's holiday snaps or a very dry exercise in academia. Which would seem about right with the titles being inspired by musty old John Ruskin's 1850s treatise on Venetian art and architecture, The Stones of Venice. Ruskin was born two hundred years ago this year so presumably it's to tie in with that.


The Stones of Venice Ca' Contarini Fasan (2017)


The Stones of Venice Ca' Mastelli (2018)

Tilson was born in London in 1928, joined the RAF, became a carpenter, and eventually studied at St. Martin's School of Art in the fifties alongside the more famous likes of David Hockney, Peter Blake, and Patrick Caulfield and he's developed something of a reputation of the forgotten man of pop art. 

Forgotten for a reason perhaps. Or maybe I just can't see it. Waldemar Januszczak knows his stuff and he's written an essay to accompany the catalogue for the show. Perhaps it would work better if I was to travel to Venice to see these old buildings (anyone up for financing that trip?) and, indeed, the two 'exciting' public installations made for the city by Tilson.


The Stones of Venice Ca' Foscari 2 (2017)


The Stones of Venice Ca' Foscari 4 (2018)

Clearly, Tilson loves Venice and, sadly, my sole visit to the city involved an hour wait in a bus station back in 2014 before getting a cheap flight back from Treviso. I can't blame him for loving Italy. It's a beautiful country with much to see and do but are these paintings (wth their dull repetitive names) really the best way to do such majesty justice?

I like the deep, almost nocturnal, blue of The Stones of Venice Ca' Foscari 4 and I had fun picking things out from the grid pictures (I can see a shell, a hand, a heart, an anchor, a bell, and is that a centaur?) but surely there must be artists more worthy of an exhibition in a fairly prestigious Mayfair gallery?


The Stones of Venice Ca' Doro (2018)


The Stones of Venice San Marco 36/1 (2018)


The Stones of Venice San Marco 36/11 (2018)


The Stones of Venice Ca' Foscari 3 (2018)

It doesn't sound like Tilson needs the money. According to the brochure you pick up on the way in to the show, "he and his wife have spent months of each year in their small house in the sestiere of Dorsoduro" and he's been "commissioned by the Grand Hotel Hungaria on the Lido to produce glass panels to adorn the facade of the hotel".

Alright for some. I like bold colours, I like geometric patterns, and I like Italy (as we've established). I'm sure I'd like Venice but I have to say I couldn't get particularly excited about Joe Tilson's new paintings of old buildings. Happy 90th, you lucky git, nonetheless. By that age I suppose you should be able to do whatever you fucking want.


The Stones of Venice Ca' Foscari 4 (2018)


The Stones of Venice San Cristofor (2017)