My Journey to the Royal Academy: Part I
London, 28th May 2010
The Letter
It was an anxiously-awaited item of correspondence from a certain highly regarded arts institution which stopped me in my tracks late that Friday morning. I ripped the letter open with theatrical disdain but in truth I was trembling inside. In the opening paragraph, I was graciously thanked “for entering this year’s Summer Exhibition” where upon it dramatically announced “with over 10,000 entries, the competition was extremely strong”, yes, yes I thought, get on with it, “however I am delighted to inform you that your work..........” the rest of the words faded away momentarily from view as I tried to take in the magic of what had been written by my correspondent, Sir Nicholas Grimshaw CBE and President of the Royal Academy. I could not believe a photograph of mine, Four Courts Dublin, had “been selected and hung in the exhibition” – the Summer Exhibition no less at Burlington House in London. But with every creative endeavour, there’s a story lurking there somewhere, so let me share the following tale with you which I believe is in keeping with the key theme of ‘Urban’ for this edition of Art Etcetera.
Urban Themed Photography
As a street photographer whose creative journey has endured a mere snip of 50 years and always learning as Igo, it’s the ‘money shot’, as they say, I’m in search of. Andas it happened, I was back in my native city of Dublin late October/early November 2009 meandering along the Quays of the River Liffey. Even though it was the middle of the day, the sky was dark and brooding, and it was lashing rain while a piercing wind cut right through me. I was soaked through and shivering but my analogue camera with35mm b/w film loaded was safe from the elements. All of a sudden, the rain eased off and I found myself opposite the Four Courts. I gazed across the river and thought about taking a photograph of this iconic building which in itself has a whole bag-load of history behind it.
Redolent of Home and Colonialism
To many an Irish person, anything that remotely resembles the Four Courts in Dublin, a grand construction located within the country’s capital near the River Liffey, tends to be redolent of home. Although a familiar element in the Irish mental landscape, this distinctive landmarkis in fact based on a classical Palladian blueprint of James Gandon. A London-born architect, Gandon moved to Dublin during the late eighteenth century at the height of British colonial power, when it was one of Europe’s largest and most thriving cities, and worked to design some of its most iconic buildings, such as the Four Courts.
Though, let’s get some perspective here. Take a second to reflect on the aesthetic appeal of this symbolic monument to justice and the law. From an Irish point of view, the building, given that it was conceived, designed and constructed under British rule, represents a somewhat tip of the iceberg scenario; a touchstone of memory of a turbulent past foisted on the local population by a foreign power, where social, religious and political marginalisation over blood-spattered centuries right up to 1922 was par for the course. You could say it’s an over-simplified Yin Yang way of presenting this Irish tableau (a motionless figure that represents a story from history) and you might well be right, but I digress. By the way, for those of you curious as to why it’s called the Four Courts - it’s based on a now defunct legal structure where the building originally housed the four courts of Chancery, King's Bench, Exchequer and Common Pleas.
Overcoming Brass Monkey Weather To Take That Photo
Meanwhile back on this brass monkey day by the river with a respite from the cloud-laden heavens, I pondered, camera in hand, on attempting to photograph something well-known. Something began to niggle and a definite snag elbowed its way into my thoughts. The problem was so many other photographers had done the same thing, so how could I take a picture that's different and also interesting?
I can remember standing there as I shot off a number of photos of the surrounding area wondering what to do. By chance I looked down at the River Liffey and I noticed the water was moving very slowly. The surface of the river was reflecting the buildings opposite in the water so as to be a near-perfect mirror image with just the tiniest evidence of movement. Fortunately, the rain had just stopped though it was threatening to bucket again, so I didn’t waste any time. I took the picture you can now see which was originally the upside-down reflection of the Four Courts in the River Liffey which I flipped 180 degrees. Voilà! And it was the photo I successfully submitted to the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition the following year, 2010.
The Siren Call of the Royal Academy
I had not allowed past rejections from this august establishment dedicated to the arts to put me off. I just kept on trying. No doubt about it but the letter of acceptance from the Royal Academy that year put a pep in my step and my wife observed on several occasions that I appeared to be floating on Cloud 9. Enclosed within the letter was what my Scottish grandmother many years ago used to call a ‘stiffy’– a decorated invitation to the quixotically-named Non- Members’ Varnishing Day.
I remember thinking this may never happen again, so I was determined to savour every instant of the entire Summer Exhibition experience.
Varnishing Day
The big day arrived and thankfully a gorgeous summer’s morn beckoned. I journeyed up on the train from the shires turning up a tad early at the exalted address of the Royal Academy [RA] in Piccadilly with the unholy zeal of someone who is a reformed latecomer. Only the exhibiting artists were invited – not even significant others were permitted, and I found myself surrounded by arty types and larger than life figures standing on plinths amusing themselves in striking poses in the courtyard outside. Since I lead such an inconsequential existence in rural south-east England, I do not recognise a soul but even I began to take the hint when I saw largish medals worn demonstrably by various women and men; ‘that’s what an Academician must be then’ I surmised, whilst observing the remarkable sculptures of the late Barry Flanagan. It felt like my first day at school with attendant ‘butterflies’ but many others greeted each other warmly as long-lost friends and displayed the insouciance of being on familiar territory. A carnival atmosphere was palpable as a steel band was playing and a television crew was going through its paces with smiling media personality, Andrew Graham- Dixon in full flow to camera.
While waiting I struck up a conversation with fellow exhibitor, Austin Ruddy, a Yorkshire-based artist (with Irish roots, he proclaimed) and who has been here before. He seemed so cool and relaxed, detached even. As I normally have a camera on me, I snapped away.
We were gently called to order and led by the ‘great and the good’ of the RA world to an age-old ceremonial of thanksgiving. This was a brief interlude where a main London thoroughfare, Piccadilly was rendered traffic free and fell silent for us RA artists as we marched en masse to St. James’s Church nearby. The tone for the service and for the Summer Exhibition too was established with an uplifting scriptural reading from Sir Nicholas (as above), some superb choral music performed by the Choir of St. James’s – their rendition of Brahms’ Geistliches Lied, (meaning Sacred Song) Opus 30 sent shivers down my spine. And then there was a riveting sermon from Professor Tina Beattie of Roehampton University who forcefully declared that art has direct relevance for us today quoting the poignant account of an ill-timed delivery of lipstick to a Nazi concentration camp at the point of its liberation by the Allies in 1945 and how the former inmates used this item of make-up to strike an artistic blow against the depravity of their inhuman surroundings. Not one for emotional display, even I felt moved and dare I say it, tearful, at this point.
After the service, we all trooped back to the Academy for champagne plus canapés and naturally to see our own work on display. But I became a wee bit concerned as I couldn’t find my photograph Four Courts Dublin so asked for assistance and it was eventually located by a member of the Academy staff in the Porter Gallery (Room X) near to the exit high up on the wall (‘skyed’ is the correct local argot, I was informed) next to the room where paintings of David Hockney were on show. That’s when it hit me and, if you will kindly excuse my saying so, I allowed myself a fleeting feeling of achievement when sharing this creative space with established artists.
While milling around in one of the galleries where mutual congratulations are being exchanged, the sound of a bell was heard and someone said a speech was being given. We made a move to the Central Hall where the President of the Royal Academy, Sir Nicholas himself was discoursing on the high number of entrants to the Exhibition andthe challenge of choosing the final successful supplicants with this year’s focus on ‘raw’ in mind. Sir Nicholas also introduced a coterie of fellow Academicians who went on to make a number of awards to the winners of various creative categories.
The Red Ladder Incident
I bump into Austin again and as he recalls I have a camera, he requests I take a picture of his painting in the Small Weston Room. ‘No problem’, I said but as it wasquite high up, getting a decent angle on it would be a dilemma. Unperturbed, Austin turns around and pointsout a bright red step ladder nearby – presumably placed there conveniently and with some forethought to enable us artists to touch up or varnish our works on this very day – after all, it is Varnishing Day. Austin and I haul the piece of equipment across the shiny wooden floor near to where his painting is hanging and he offers to hold the ladder securely as I mount it; I notice we have become comrades-in-arms by now. No worries as I leapt up the contraption like a ferret after its prey. Very conveniently the restraining bar at the top is at just the right height to balance my camera on and I take two snaps of Mr Ruddy’s painting. At that moment, a polite kerfuffle beneath me ensues – I guess all such encounters at the RA are conducted with such finesse – where Austin is now locked in an exchange with an official who warns of the dangers associated with our actions and health and safety is being infringed. As I feel confident about the pictures just taken, I decide to descend the ladder and meekly comply with this jobsworth’s ruling.
Just then, a young lady barred my path downwards with a false sense of cheeriness, asking mysteriously: “Is that a G9?” while pointing at my camera. Fortunately, we photographers are switched on to such exciting developments in our lives and I immediately clicked into ‘techie mode’ recognising her rather impudent inquiry about my equipment. I crisply replied: “No, actually it’s a G10” showing my camera to her as best I could as I endeavoured to evade the steely glare of the gallery apparatchik who was by this time tugging at the step ladder to wrest it from Austin’s grasp lest we use it again. The impetuous camera lady melted back into the crowd. As an Irishman abroad, I noticed the fuss with Academy officialdom was amicably concluded in that quintessential demure English manner. But I digress again.
Artscape of the RA Summer Exhibition, 2010
Later on, when the throng had departed, I walked around undistracted gazing in wonder at the inventiveness and creative skill exhibited. It was truly exciting but let megive you a very brief flavour of what was on show: David Mach and his striking collage, Babel Towers next to his ingenious sculpture, Silver Streak (think of King Kong) made entirely of coat hangers; Bill Jacklin’s intriguing inkjet print, Wollman Rink 1 with an ice-skating theme; Norman Ackroyd and his haunting etching (on stainless steel) of birds near some bleak island outcrop, called Gallapagos; The Crown of Esfahan: Mosque of the Sun, an entrancing and intricate creation of brass, paper and ink by Sara Shaffei and Ben Cowd depicting a place of worship in Iran. The quirky topical sculpture, Crash Willy by Yinka Shonibare (inspired by a road traffic collision) was a winner of the coveted Wollaston Prize.
Irish artists were well represented and indeed triumphant with Elizabeth Magill’s large oil painting with a mysterious feel to it of four tall trees in an eerie setting entitled, Blue Hold which earned her the Sunny Dupree Family Award for a woman artist and Paul Murphy’s award-winning Untitled, a c-type photographic print of a deserted Idaho backyard. Other artists on show with Irish connections were: Carey Clarke, Francis Matthews, Terry McAllister Padraig Mac Miadhachain, Séan Scully and Hughie O’Donoghue.
No doubt there will be noisy critics who will criticise this artistic extravaganza with well-chosen witty remarks based upon their entrenched prejudices fossilised sometime in the Kensington or Soho ateliers of the 1950s and who then enter into this post-modern world of wonder and inspiration sometimes verging on the anarchic only to wield their axe of destructive blithering ignorance. But I digress yet again.
As a photographer, I should confess to a certain bias but Room X did have a number of striking images many of which were produced with the help of a camera rather than a brush, palette knife or chisel, such as Suzanne Moxhay’s Cablecar and Swarm, both archival digital prints with a touch of the surreal. Also, Allen Jones’ Undressed Hatstand, a black and white silver print; Substrate Shadow, an archival digital print by Barton Hargreaves and Nicola Walsh’s Envelopes, a c-type digital print; all these photos cleverly observed the official remit of ‘raw’ for the Summer Exhibition. I was further heartened when chatting to the aforementioned Sir Nicholas towards the end of Varnishing Day when he voiced strong support for the photographic contribution to this event. This inclusive frame of mind should send out a welcoming signal to photographers their work is being taken seriously: the RA has accepted photographs at the Summer Exhibition since 2006.
Savouring The Lotus Flower of the Summer Exhibition
As a newbie to this unique celebration of the art world at the Royal Academy with some amazing pictures and sculptures on show, of course and where pomp and circumstance mixed in with a touch of glam and the whimsical was the order of the day, I must admit I had enjoyed it. But this glittering fête was coming to an end. Somehow, I knew that my journey in photography had to continue: so much to do, so much to learn. Nevertheless, I relished Varnishing Day to the last knowing for a very brief spell I had been privileged to play a small part in this world- class artistic occasion.
It may never happen again but now that the lotus flower of the Summer Exhibition had been tasted...
To be continued in our next issue...
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