Archive for the ‘Gloucestershire’ Category

A closer look at Dyrham Park

May 20, 2014
Dyrham Park ©National Trust Images/Rupert Truman

Dyrham Park ©National Trust Images/Rupert Truman

From a distance historic houses can appear almost eternal. But a closer look usually reveals some evidence of the ravages of time.

Experts looking at the repairs needed to the roof at Dyrham Park, South Gloucestershire. ©National Trust Images/Chris Lacey

Experts inspecting Dyrham’s roof. ©National Trust Images/Chris Lacey

Dyrham Park has been receiving quite a lot of scrutiny recently. Its roof is now over 200 years old and beyond its natural life.

Patch repairs on the roof at Dyrham. ©National Trust Images/Chris Lacey

Patch repairs on the roof at Dyrham. ©National Trust Images/Chris Lacey

Patch repairs are no longer sufficient and the roof needs a complete overhaul.

Spalling stonework on the roof at Dyrham ©National Trust Images/Chris Lacey

Spalling stonework on the roof at Dyrham ©National Trust Images/Chris Lacey

Some of the stonework is also beginning to fail, exacerbated by the freezing and thawing of excess rainwater. So as well as urgent stone repairs the house needs improved gutters to prevent future damage.

Damaged stonework on the west front of Dyrham. ©National Trust Images/Chris Lacey

Damaged stonework on the west front of Dyrham. ©National Trust Images/Chris Lacey

In addition access to the orangery roof needs to be made safer, so that high-level maintenance can be carried out more frequently and efficiently.

Water damage in the orangery at Dyrham. ©National Trust Images/Chris Lacey

Water damage in the orangery at Dyrham. ©National Trust Images/Chris Lacey

That is why we are trying to raise £500,000 towards the total cost of £3.54 million. Any donation is welcome, and can be made here.

A Dutch house in Gloucestershire

August 6, 2013
View of Dyrham Park from the entrance drive, with Claude David's statue of Neptune, acquired by William Blathwayt for his baroque garden. ©National Trust Images/Rupert Truman

View of Dyrham Park from the entrance drive, with Claude David’s statue of Neptune, acquired by William Blathwayt for his baroque garden. ©National Trust Images/Rupert Truman

In an article in the recently published 2013 National Trust Historic Houses and Collections Annual, Rupert Goulding reconstructs the personality and taste of William Blathwayt (?1649-1717), the builder of Dyrham Park.

The Great Hall at Dyrham, showing William Blathwayt's bookcases. ©National Trust Images/Andreas von Einsiedel

The Great Hall at Dyrham, showing William Blathwayt’s bookcases. ©National Trust Images/Andreas von Einsiedel

By analysing an inventory of Blathwayt’s lost print collection, Rupert has found telling details of Blathwayt’s intellectual interests and love of art and gardening.

Portrait of William Blathwayt by Michael Dahl. ©National Trust Images/Ian Blantern

Portrait of William Blathwayt by Michael Dahl. ©National Trust Images/Ian Blantern

Blathwayt was a government minister under King William III, ‘a master at managing information’ as Rupert characterises him.

Vanitas still life by Edwaert Colliers at Dyrham, 1675, reflecting Blathwayt's love of books, the visual arts and music. ©National Trust, image supplied by the Public Catalogue Foundation

Vanitas still life by Edwaert Colliers at Dyrham, 1675, reflecting Blathwayt’s love of books, the visual arts and music. ©National Trust, image supplied by the Public Catalogue Foundation

This not only made Blathwayt an able Secretary of State and Secretary at War, but it was also reflected in the architecture and gardens of Dyrham Park and the collections he assembled there.

A view through a house by Samuel van Hoogstraten, 1662, at Dyrham Park. William Blathwayt liked to keep exotic and song birds, like the one shown in this painting. ©National Trust, image supplied by the Public Catalogue Foundation

A view through a house by Samuel van Hoogstraten, 1662, at Dyrham Park. William Blathwayt liked to keep exotic and song birds, like the one shown in this painting. ©National Trust, image supplied by the Public Catalogue Foundation

Blathwayt might be dubbed a ‘Hollandophile': he not only spoke Dutch (which was useful when serving under a Dutch king), but he also owned many Dutch paintings and prints.

Engraving of Dyrham Park by Johannes Kip, 1712. ©National Trust Images

Engraving of Dyrham Park by Johannes Kip, 1712. ©National Trust Images

Blathwayt shared an appreciation of gardens with William III, and his print collection included a number of views of contemporary gardens. The garden at Dyrham was laid out in Dutch baroque style, like those at William’s palaces at Hampton Court and Het Loo. Rupert defines Dyrham as ‘essentially a Dutch house in Gloucestershire.’

Portrait of King William III after Sir Godfrey Kneller, 1690s, at Dyrham. ©National Trust, image supplied by The Public Catalogue Foundation

Portrait of King William III after Sir Godfrey Kneller, 1690s, at Dyrham. ©National Trust, image supplied by The Public Catalogue Foundation

Rupert’s article clearly demonstrates how an inventory can be the key to revealing the rich personal meanings contained within a house, a garden and a collection.

Keeping up with the Jansens

May 7, 2013
Dutch family taking tea, c. 1680, attributed to Roelof Koets II (c. 1650-1725). ©Sotheby's

Dutch family taking tea, c. 1680, attributed to Roelof Koets II (c. 1650-1725). ©Sotheby’s

The 17th-century Dutch family shown in the painting above are clearly very proud of their tea things. The wife and the child are dressed to the nines and the splendid Javanese lacquer table is filled expensive-looking tea utensils.

Javanese lacquer table in the Duchess's Private Closet at Ham House. ©National Trust Images/John Hammond

Javanese lacquer table in the Duchess’s Private Closet at Ham House. ©National Trust Images/John Hammond

At this time the drinking of tea was still a relatively exotic and glamorous activity in Europe – perhaps reflected in the fact that it is the husband in the painting, the head of the household, who demonstratively holds the teapot. And it was obviously deemed appropriate to have a trendy oriental lacquer table to go with this trendy oriental drink.

Javanese lacquer table in the Balcony Room at Dyrham Park. ©National Trust Images/Andreas von Einsiedel

Javanese lacquer table in the Balcony Room at Dyrham Park. ©National Trust Images/Andreas von Einsiedel

Javanese lacquer tables from that period haven’t survived in large numbers, but they can still be found in a few English and German public collections.  I have just published a little article about them in the May 2013 issue of the National Trust’s Arts, Buildings and Collections Bulletin.

Globalised lacquer

January 3, 2013
The Balcony Room at Dyrham Park, with the so-called Javanese lacquer table in the foreground. ©National Trust Images/Andreas von Einsiedel

The Balcony Room at Dyrham Park, with the so-called Javanese lacquer table in the foreground. ©National Trust Images/Andreas von Einsiedel

In mid-December I attended the Global Commodities conference at the University of Warwick, which examined the role of material culture in shaping world-wide connections in the early modern period. It was an extremely stimulating event that brought together social historians, economic historians and art historians.

Close-up of the table at Dyrham (inv. no. NT452980). ©National Trust Collections

Close-up of the table at Dyrham (inv. no. NT452980). ©National Trust Collections

Ulrike Körber, who is connected to the José de Figueiredo Laboratory at the University of Évora, gave a fascinating lecture about the complex manufacturing and trade patterns of east Asian lacquer in the 16th and 17th century. She described how objects could be designed in one place, made in another, lacquered or relacquered in a third and used in a fourth. Globalisation is clearly not just a recent phenomenon.

The Duchess's Private Closet at Ham House, with the so-called Javanese table raised on a European base. ©National Trust Images/John Hammond

The Duchess’s Private Closet at Ham House, with the so-called Javanese table raised on a European base. ©National Trust Images/John Hammond

This reminded me of the unusual lacquer tables at Dyrham Park, Gloucestershire, and  Ham House, Surrey, which have traditionally been called ‘Javanese’. They both date from the late 17th century and somehow reached England through the East India trade. The one at Ham was adapted to the needs of chair-sitting Europeans by being mounted on a barley-twist base, a telling example of the appropriation – at once practical and symbolic – of an Asian object into a European setting.

Close-up of the table at Ham (inv. no. NT1140034). ©National Trust Collections

Close-up of the table at Ham (inv. no. NT1140034). ©National Trust Collections

But we are not even sure whether these tables did indeed come from Java. There are some related tables in a few German collections, dating from around the same time and with similar distinctive pie-crust rims, but drum-shaped instead of rectangular.

Drum-shaped, reputedly Javanese lacquer tea table (Teetrommel), formerly in the state apartments of the Residenz, Rastatt, Baden. ©Badisches Landesmuseum Karlsruhe

Drum-shaped, reputedly Javanese lacquer tea table (Teetrommel), formerly in the state apartments of the Residenz, Rastatt, Baden. ©Badisches Landesmuseum Karlsruhe

I am hoping to correspond further with Ulrike and with some of the other conference participants to try to find out more about this rare category of lacquer objects – and of course I would very much welcome any suggestions here too.

Dyrham Park: global crossroads

March 27, 2012

Garden² (no. 7), by Marc Quinn, 2000. © the artist and Arts Council Collection

Dyrham Park is about to host an exhibition of contemporary art from the Arts Council Collection. Entitled A World Away, it will include work by Marc Quinn, Helen Sear, Mark Wallinger, Yinka Shonibare and Leo Fitzmaurice.

Dutch Delftware flower vase with decoration inspired by Chinese porcelain, at Dyrham Park. ©NTPL/John Hammond

The exhibition is part of the Trust New Art programme, a three-year partnership between Arts Council England and the National Trust to promote contemporary art in historic places.

The Diogenes Room at Dyrham, showing one of the English 'Diogenes' tapestries and part of the collection of Delftware. ©NTPL/Andreas von Einsiedel

The exhibition at Dyrham will interact with the career of William Blathwayt, a politician and administrator handling colonial affairs and global trade under kings Charles II, James II and William III.

Line Painting, by Yinka Shonibare, 2003. © the artist, Stephen Friedman Gallery and Arts Council Collection. This work includes various Dutch wax fabric prints, which originated in Indonesia, were exported by the Dutch to West Africa and were later also produced in Manchester.

Dyrham is still filled with reminders of late-seventeenth-century globalisation, such as the Virginian cedar wood used for the main staircase, the collection of Dutch Delftware, the slave torcheres – shocking to twenty-first-century sensibilities but clearly not so to seventeenth-century ones –  and the rare Javanese tea table.

The Balcony Room, with the Javanese tea table and the torcheres supported by chained black slaves. Both William Blathwayt and his uncle Thomas Povey were involved in adminstering the slave plantations in Jamaica. ©NTPL/Andreas von Einsiedel

As exhibition curator Rupert Goulding says: “We would like the contemporary art to help our visitors look again at the historic collection and perhaps gain a deeper understanding of the house and its creator.”

The Virginian cedar staircase. ©NTPL/Andreas von Einsiedel

The exhibition will run from 30 March to 28 October 2012.

A bureaucrat’s inner Versace

October 6, 2011

Bureau-cabinet in the Closet at Dyrham. ©NTPL/Andreas von Einsiedel

Dyrham Park in Gloucestershire presents an interesting curatorial problem: the house is a miniature Baroque palace with a wonderfully rich collection, but its original builder and collector, diplomat and minister William Blathwayt, appears, at least on the surface, to have been rather dull (see his portrait in this previous post).

An illusionistic interior painting by Samuel van Hoogstraeten seen at the end of an enfilade at Dyrham. ©NTPL/Andreas von Einsiedel

William Blathwayt was nicknamed ‘the elephant’ by his friends, because of the ponderousness of his jokes. He was methodical and very efficient, which allowed him to flourish in government service, first at the British embassy in The Hague, then as clerk to the Privy Council, and finally as Secretary at War, Secretary of State and member of the Board of Trade. But his personality doesn’t seem to have been the stuff that gripping biographies (let alone historical romances) are made of.

The Balcony Room, with its gilded panelling, garden-themed paintings, slave torcheres, Javanese lacquer table and Delft ceramics. ©NTPL/Angelo Hornak

Blathwayt’s collections at Dyrham show the full range of grand Baroque taste, including panoramic tapestries, Dutch paintings, embossed leather wallhangings bursting with fruit and cherubs, a rare Javanese lacquer table and a  collection of exuberant Delft earthenware.

Dutch walnut and tortoiseshell chest on stand with Chinese ceramics displayed on top, in the Tapestry Room. ©NTPL/Andreas von Einsiedel

How did such an apparently grey bureaucrat end up with such a flamboyant house? Was there a hidden side to him? This is what curator Rupert Goulding and visitor experience consultant Jess Monaghan are trying to work out, as they re-assess the way Dyrham is shown to the public. I hope to be able to reveal more about this project (and perhaps even about Blathwayt’s inner Versace) in due course.

The power of packaging

May 27, 2011

Shortbread packaging with a design by Adrian Johnson ©Adrian Johnson/Studio H

Recently I began to notice the striking new designs on the boxes of biscuits sold in National Trust shops. It turns out that the graphics have been designed by design consultancy Studio H, who commissioned artist Adrian Johnson to provide illustrations for them.

Biscuit packaging with designs by Adrian Johnson. ©Adrian Johnson/Studio H

Johnson’s work, which is bold and yet gently whimsical, seems to be building on the style of British modernism of the 1940s and 1950s.

To make the designs more specific to the National Trust, Studio H asked Johnson to incorporate visual references to Hidcote Manor, Little Moreton Hall and Seaton Delaval Hall – can you spot them?

Icons designed by Rob Hall of Studio H. ©Rob Hall/Studio H

Rob Hall of Studio H has designed a range of ‘icons’ in a similar romantic modernist style. These icons can be used in different combinations for different products.

Rob Hall's icon designs used in various configurations on National Trust chocolate packaging. ©Rob Hall/Studio H

All this is part of a programme to refresh the National Trust’s corporate brand. The main brief was to give the range of products more visual coherence while at the same time reflecting the huge diversity of what the organisation looks after.

The secret life of objects

March 28, 2011

I have been awared the Stylish Blogger Award by Colette of NH Design Blog. Isn’t that a pip?!

Set of samurai armour, at Snowshill Manor, Gloucestershire. ©NTPL/Andreas von Einsiedel

I would like to hand the award on to Barbara Sarudy of It’s About Time and Janet Blyberg of ~ JCB ~, two of my blog gurus, leading by example.

Figure of Japanese wind god, at Snowshill Manor. ©NTPL/Stuart Cox

As part of this award one is supposed to share some stylish things. I would like to use this opportunity to show a few more images (which I hope are reasonably stylish) relating to ‘Japaneseness’ and ‘Britishness’, in response to the throughtful comments on a recent post on the subject of preconceptions.

The Japanese Garden, Kingston Lacy, Dorset. ©NTPL/Mark Bolton

The images in this and the earlier post are all of artefacts that have been taken out of their original context and appropriated by someone for whom they were not originally intended. In all these cases this was done lovingly and with admiration, but inevitably the meaning of the objects changed along the way, although that might not be obvious at first glance. One might call this elusive pattern of change the secret life of objects.

Granite temple lantern in the Japanese Garden at Kingston Lacy. ©NTPL/Mark Bolton

The Japanese artefacts at Snowshill were originally made either for the Japanese market or for the export trade. They must have been bought by a British visitor or entrepreneur, probably sold again in Britain at some point and then picked up by Charles Wade, who was continuously adding to his Aladdin’s cave at Snowshill in the 1920s and 1930s.

Wade admired Japanese objects as examples of fine craftsmanship, which he saw as being in decline in Britain. That response drove his collecting mania, which has made Snowshill what it is today. But the previous lives of these objects are interesting as well. Was the suit of armour sold by an impoverished samurai family after the abolition of the military class in 1871? Was the wind god part of the decoration of a temple, and if so why was it disposed of?

Corner cuboard at Hill Top with ceramics including an Edward VII coronation teapot which found its way into one of Beatrix Potter's illustrations for 'The Pie and the Patty Pan.' ©NTPL/Geoffrey Frosh

The Japanese garden at Kingston Lacy was created for Henrietta Bankes around 1910. Even though she clearly wanted a ‘genuine’ Japanese garden it was inevitably influenced by its time and place.

Furthermore, its current appearance is a recent restoration, after it had become overgrown and almost lost. It was recreated as faithfully as possibly, but inevitably the result is slightly different from the ‘original’ – which itself was a recreation on foreign soil of a Japanese original. Nevertheless these echoes, and echoes of echoes, are now part of the genius loci, the spirit of place, of Kingston Lacy.

Vignette in the Hill Top garden reminiscent of Mr McGregor's garden implements in Beatrix Potter's 'Peter Rabbit'. ©NTPL/Stephen Robson

At Hill Top Beatrix Potter preserved the old Lake District farmhouse and collected local furniture and furnishings. She played an important role in preserving parts of the Lake District, but at the same time her view was inevitably that of a well-off, philanthropically-minded outsider. Originally cottage gardens and interiors like this would not have been quite as pretty as she made them, with her artist’s eye.

We owe Beatrix Potter a great debt of gratitude, but at the same time we should not forget that her vision of the place is a particular one, coloured by her Edwardian aestheticism. Today, of course, Hill Top receives many visitors from far and wide (including from places like Japan), who know it through the illustrations in Potter’s famous children’s books, and of course they see it through a slightly different lens again. And so the secret life of objects continues.

Later generations

July 19, 2010

William IV Blathwayt and his wife Frances with Dyrham Park in the background, by Thomas Phillips, 1806. ©NTPL

In the new edition of ABC Bulletin, assistant curator Alison Harpur writes about the family portraits at Dyrham Park ascribed to Thomas Phillips (1770-1845).

Alison was able to check the artist’s sitters book, which is now kept in the National Portrait Gallery in London. She duly found a mention of the double portrait shown above listed under October 1807. It was probably begun in 1806, before William IV Blathwayt’s death.

William Crane Blathwayt, by Thomas Phillips, 1832. ©NTPL/John Hammond

The portraits of the next generation to own Dyrham, William Crane Blathwayt (1795-1839) and his wife  Frances Margaret, were also painted by Phillips, and were listed in the sitters book under July 1832. It is interesting that even after more than twenty-five years the family still went back to Phillips for their portraits.

Frances Margaret Blathway, née Taylor, wife of William Crane Blathwayt, by Thomas Phillips, 1832. ©National Trust

William Crane Blathwayt was the son of William IV’s sister Penelope. She had eloped with a Jeremiah Pierce Crane and married him in Gretna Green. The childless William IV and Frances raised William Crane as their son and heir, and he took the name Blathwayt in 1817.

Dyrham Park. ©NTPL/Rupert Truman

These paintings record how, after the explosion of Baroque exuberance at Dyrham under the first William Blathwayt (as shown in previous posts) the later generations of Blathwayts settled down to mostly quiet – and occasionally scandalous – lives as members of the country gentry.

Masquerade

July 16, 2010

One of Charles Wade's Indonesian theatre masks at Snowshill Manor. ©NTPL/Stuart Cox

A recent post about Indonesian textiles by Courtney Barnes over at her Style Court blog made me think about the Indonesian masks at Snowshill Manor, Gloucestershire.

©NTPL/Stuart Cox

They are part of the collection of Charles Wade (1883-1956), who trained as an architect, but who really came into his own as an artist, craftsman and collector.

The South front of Snowshill Manor seen from the garden. ©NTPL/Nick Meers

Wade bought Snowshill in 1919 and gradually transformed the old Cotswold manor house into an Aladdin’s Cave.

The Seraphim room. ©NTPL/Dennis Gilbert

He gave the rooms evocative names, such as Seraphim, Mizzen and A Hundred Wheels. Wade and his friends organised amateur theatricals in the house using items from the collection as costumes and props, and with candles and a smoky fire for extra effect.

©NTPL/Stuart Cox

Wade’s collecting was motivated by a love of craftsmanship. The scope of his collection expanded from British objects to include items from southern Europe and West and East Asia. 

Javanese masks representing the evil spirit Rangda. ©NTPL/Andreas von Einsiedel

Wade gave Snowshill to the National Trust in 1951.


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