Tag Archives: Rembrandt

London Slant: My top three Bond Street art treats

If London’s Bond Street is synonymous with excess and the extraordinary, now’s the time to catch it at its most exuberant. Glamorous peacock feather illuminations arch over designer stores in full Christmas plumage. But best of all its galleries and auction houses have pulled out all the stops with several must-see shows.

In fine feather: New Bond Street.

I dodged the faux snow cannoning out of Fenwick and braved the Victoria’s Secret scrum to check out what is an exceptional crop of art exhibitions, free for public view. All feature a small number of works, beautifully displayed in calm surroundings—perfect for a gentle stroll at a time of year that threatens sensual overload. Here are my favourite three.

1. Bonhams. 101 New Bond Street. Burrell at Bonhams. A selection of eclectic masterpieces from The Burrell Collection in Glasgow is arranged around the magnificent Wagner Garden Carpet, an Iranian paradise of watercourses filled with fishes, exotic trees and flowers, animals and birds. The many highlights include a poignant Giovanni Bellini Madonna and Child, Paul Cézanne’s glimmering Château de Médan and a 1480 tapestry showing King David dispatching his page with a message to entice Bathsheba to his bed. There’s the elaborate bedhead that failed to work its magic on the wedding night of King Henry VIII and Anne of Cleves, and treasures hailing from Egypt and Assyria. Soft background music was playing as I roamed around: a Chinese pipa strummed while I peered at a Yuan Dynasty jade vase and as I arrived in front of a Degas ballet scene it segued into an orchestra playing Debussy.

Château de Médan by Paul Cézanne.

Medieval works, including stained glass and an alabaster house shrine.

2. Christie’s Mayfair. 103 New Bond Street.The Bad Shepherd. I came to see the two splendid Brueghels of a smirking shepherd scarpering while a wolf devours his sheep, and a good shepherd being mauled by a wolf as he allows his flock to escape. But I was just as taken by the haunting waterscapes by contemporary artist Peter Doig, all atmosphere and crunchy textures, presented as “in conversation” with the early Flemish works. There was Jan Brueghel’s flower painting with its overblown blooms, a lively peasant scene that turned out to be The Murder of the Innocents and Jeff Koons’ saccharine, yet disturbing cherubs—all hinting that beneath a beguiling exterior lie more troubling elements. As if to underline this, the works are presented in a series of stylish yet darkly claustrophobic rooms.

The Good Shepherd by Pieter Brueghel II.

Night Fishing by Peter Doig.

3. De Pury de Pury 3 Grafton Street. Wojciech Fangor: Colour Light Space. A few steps off Bond Street brought me to this collection of 1960s and 70s works from the US-based Polish artist Wojciech Fangor. These Op Art paintings were shown to great effect in a Grade I listed Georgian townhouse replete with a sweeping onyx staircase, decorative ceilings and giant chandeliers. The works positively vibrated with—well—colour, light and a feeling of infinite space. I drifted among them, relishing the blurry forms and subtle gradations of hue that made them shudder and pulsate.

Modern works in a London townhouse dating from 1767.

Upper floor: Wojciech Fangor: Colour-Light-Space

Rippling forms beneath a dazzling ceiling.

Op Art between classical columns.

The great pleasure of visiting these small galleries is that you avoid the blockbuster crowds. Much as I adored the National Gallery’s Rembrandt: The Late Works, it was particularly pleasurable to view the artist’s self-portrait at Bonhams without having to elbow my way to the front.

Shows run into early January 2015. Opening hours vary over the holiday season. Please check before making a visit and note the exhibition opening hours may differ from those of those of the auction house itself.

London Slant: On track for Holland and the Teylers Museum

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You might be surprised to hear that on a recent visit to Amsterdam I stayed at a hotel built on struts over the Central Station tracks. Now, I know I should really be telling you about some little gem of a place I unearthed on a hidden canal. But for a time-pressed train fan from London, it was spot on. Just a 17-minute shuttle from the airport and I was checking in.

The Oval Room at the Teylers Museum, Haarlem, Holland.

I awoke (yes, I slept soundly) to fantastic views of the harbour. Boats cruised back and forth, before a backdrop of the new Eye Film Museum. Best of all, I watched trains zooming off all over Europe below my feet.

The new Eye Film Museum, Amsterdam, viewed from my hotel window.

One morning I leapt on one and sped back in time to the town of Haarlem. I wandered through narrow, cobbled lanes with gabled houses covered in flowers. Almost all had seats outside, where I could picture neighbours gathering of an evening to chat. The bells of St Bavo’s church chimed out the hour and I half expected to glimpse guildsmen from the paintings in the Frans Hals Museum strutting along in their ruffs and buckled shoes.

Entrance to the Teylers Museum, Haarlem

My goal was the Holland’s oldest museum, the Teylers, where you feel the spirit of the Enlightenment the second you push open its giant door. Many of its displays remain untouched since it opened in 1784, in original wooden cases lit by daylight only and with captions in spidery handwriting. As I stepped from its fossil gallery, with its huge mammoth skulls, through to rooms with globes and armillary spheres, I was swept up in the 18th-century quest for knowledge and discovery.

Now, I know nothing about paleobiology, electromagnetism or mineralogy. But I quickly got into the spirit and felt like an early explorer poking around and coming up with ‘finds’. The curious jumble led from bones that showed the evolution of horses’ jaws to a piece of rock from the peak of Mont Blanc. Faded cases with obscure objects yielded fascinating stories when I found out what they were.

All this was in a wonderful architectural ensemble, purpose-designed to showcase the treasures at their best. It was made possible by the bequest of one Pieter Teyler van der Hulst, a merchant and financier whose portrait, complete with curly wig and quill pen, hangs on one of the walls. In addition to science and nature, Teyler was fond of art. He also financed a collection of paintings and an exceptional portfolio of drawings that includes works by Rembrandt and Italian masters. These are displayed in more modern, 19th-century style.

The world’s first battery, the Voltaic Pile (1800).

Giant ammonite, one of the Teylers’ fantastic fossils.

Room of scientific instruments.

View from the cafe outside the Teylers Museum.

I had planned to spend an hour or so at the Teylers but ended up staying half a day. Afterwards, I ordered a strong coffee at a cafe just outside the museum and watched boats cruising beneath a pretty bridge. It took me a second cup to come back to the 21st century again.

I stayed at the Ibis Amsterdam Centre Hotel. Trains run every 10 minutes or so between Amsterdam and Haarlem, with a journey time of around 15 minutes. The Teylers has a programme of regular exhibitions. Next up from 28 September to 19 January are Rembrandt drawings and etchings. An excellent audio guide in English relates the stories behind the objects in a really engaging way.

London Slant: Rush to Amsterdam’s Rijksmuseum

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While Britain dithers over whether to build Boris Island or expand Heathrow I hear that Holland’s Schipol is positioning itself as London’s major airport. If so, maybe the reopening of the Rijksmuseum can be considered London’s hottest new cultural event.

Henry Moore exhibition in the gardens of Amsterdam’s Rijksmuseum.

So hop on a plane and head to Amsterdam fast. Because the museum has reopened after a 12-year closure with a stunning temporary Henry Moore show. It’s the icing on the rich and delicious cake that’s the makeover of the museum itself.

I arrived at the Rijksmuseum entrance as a rush hour stream of cyclists pedalled past. Their campaign to stop the proposed blocking of this route through the heart of the building was partly why the museum remained closed so long. I’d been warned there were huge queues to enter, but when I arrived at 9.05 I walked straight in.

The Gallery of Honour, with Rembrandt’s Night Watch at the far end.

I hot-footed it to the Gallery of Honour where Dutch old masters are arrayed. It’s a magnificent sight, with alcoves of Golden Age works leading up to Rembrandt’s Night Watch, dramatically displayed at the far end.

When the museum was built in 1885 the names of featured artists were inscribed high on this gallery’s walls. The rehang of this revered space reveals a fascinating change of tastes. Frans Hals and Jan Steen are still here, Hobbema has gone and Vermeer (who, unbelievably, was unrated) has now been brought in. It’s wonderful to see his milkmaid calmly pouring from her jug centre stage—especially since I’d pipped the heaving scrum and had her all to myself.

The entire museum gets my resounding thumbs up for its brilliant integration of fine and decorative arts. The story of the Netherlands, against the backdrop of the sea, is vividly conveyed through skilful juxtapositions of paintings and objets d’art. Showcases of vases, clocks and pieces of furniture are set among pictures of similar age and style. I thrilled to items that would never normally grip me, such as silverware and porcelain.

The building itself is a treat. I followed an architecture trail that led from the decorative neo-Gothic Great Hall, with its stained glass windows, to the new Asian Pavilion, where works are displayed in zen-like calm.

Holland’s ties to the sea are visible throughout the Rijksmuseum. Objects mirror paintings throughout.

Paintings are matched with fabulous drinking cups covered in swirling sea creatures emerging from the waves.

Shiva Nataraja (King of the Dance), part of the excellent Asian collection, now has a stylish, light-flooded home.

A row of dazzling kimonos, ancient and modern.

The greenhouse supplies salads for the museum cafe.

When the Rijksmuseum closed for the evening I headed into its gardens, where the Moores were bathed in sun. I peeped into the greenhouse where vegetables for the lunches served in the museum cafe are grown. Then it was on to Sama Sebo, the Indonesian restaurant next door, for a first rate rijstafel. Fortunately I’d booked a table: it was shoulder-to-shoulder—just as the space in front of the Night Watch had become.

*Check out City Airport for an Amsterdam flight: save time and outrageous train fares to larger airports. Henry Moore is on until 29 September.