Last week I showed a little of my visit to the Kelvingrove in Glasgow.
I didn’t talk in depth about any of the exhibits; last week was just a
general overview of a very small part of Kelvingrove. This week I’m
going to concentrate on one of the most beautiful paintings in the
permanent exhibition. John Lavery’s portrait of Anna Pavlova.
SIR JOHN LAVERY
(1856 - 1941) painter
Born Belfast
(1856 - 1941) painter
Born Belfast
please take a look at his paintings here;
His
exact date of birth remains uncertain but he was born the was the son
of an impoverished publican sometime in 1856. His father was drowned
when he was three, and his mother died soon after. He was sent to
relatives in Scotland and apprenticed to a painter-photographer in Glasgow
at seventeen. After studying at the Glasgow School of Art he set up as
an independent artist at twenty-three. He then studied in London and Paris. John Lavery was an Irish artist but because of his close connections with the Glasgow school of art and his association with other Glasgow artists he is often thought of as a Scottish Artist of the Glasgow school.
His first success came with the showing of his ‘Tennis Par’ at the Royal Academy, London, in 1886; it was very much admired and acquired for the Neue Pinakothek in Munich.
This established him as a respected international artist and led the
way for serious commissions. Two years after the Tennis party he
received a commission to paint the state visit of Queen Victoria
to the Glasgow Exhibition. This painting led to social connections with
the rich and famous and these vital social connections led to many more
prestigious commissions.
He
was one of the most celebrated artists of his own time. His list of
achievements and awards is impressive on any ones standards. He was knighted in 1918, elected a member of the RA in 1921, followed by member ship of the RHA, Royal Scottish Academy, and the academies of Rome, Antwerp, Milan, Brussels, and Stockholm. He received honorary degrees from QUB and TCD and was made a freeman of Belfast and Dublin.
At eighty-four he published his autobiography, The Life of a Painter
(1940). He died at Rosenarra House, Kilkenny, 10 January 1941.
The
one painting of his that I have seen and admired is of course the
portrait of Anne Pavlova on permanent exhibition at Kelvingrove in Glasgow.
Anna Pavlova
her photographs are here;
http://forgetmenot525.multiply.com/photos/album/194/Anna_Pavlova
Anna Pavlova (1882-1931) was possibly the most famous ballerina of all time. She was born in St. Petersburg, Russia,
on January 31, 1882, the only child of a very, very poor Russian
family. It is documented that she was frail due to her premature birth
and constantly suffered one illness after another throughout her
childhood. But, somehow, from this poor, weak, frail, child grew a
dancer who often gave 9 or 10 performances a week for a period lasting
more than 20 years.
Anna
first saw the Ballet when she was just 8 years old. She was taken by
her mother, as a special treat, to see the Imperial Ballet perform
Sleeping Beauty and, it is said, was utterly captivated by the ballet
from that moment. She fell in love with the music (Tchaikovsky), the
dance, the costume, the atmosphere of the theatre, every thing that
surrounded the world of ballet. At 8 she was too young to be admitted to
the strict Imperial Theater School, at the Czar's court in St. Petersburg,
she had to wait another two years until she was 10n years old to apply.
When she did apply she was one of 8 chosen fro over 100 applicants.
She
trained for 7 years and then, at the age of 17, joined the Imperial
Ballet. Within 7 years she was the company's prima ballerina. Her
dancing was unique, the traditional technique taught in the Ballet
school was not her strongest attribute, and many have said that
technically she was a weak dancer. Her strength lie in her ability to
translate the story of the ballet to the audience and to act out any
given part, she had grace, beauty, elegance, empathy for her character
and a unique ability to translate emotion in to dance. Audiences loved
her, she was a phenomenon. The role she made her own was ‘the Dying
Swan’. There is a very interesting quote from Beaumont, an Englsh ballet
critic who said of this performance
‘’ The
emotion transferred was so over-powering that it seemed a mockery to
applaud when the dance came to an end, our souls had soared into
empyrean with the passing of the swan; only when the silence was broken
could we feel that they had returned to our bodies.’’
This
particular solo, one of the best known in the history of ballet, was
created for her by Michel Fokine, one of Pavlova's fellow pupils at the Imperial Theater School. He was a young choreographer who attempted to break with the classical form of ballet practised at that time.
By 1907 she
was on her way to establishing her solo touring career, a career that
lasted twenty years and took her all over the world. From this point
onwards she lived a large part of her life on trains and in hotels.
Toward the end of this period she compromised by omitting difficult
sections of the dance and performing only the less demanding sections.
In order to improve her balance and conserve stamina she developed a
shoe which became the forerunner to all modern ballet shoes. At the time
the conservatives among the ballet world accused her of cheating, but
no modern ballerina would attempt toe-work without its equivalent.
In
1931 she contracted pleurisy. She reportedly refused treatment out of
fear that the treatment (surgery) would leave her unable to dance.
The Dying Swan
By Alfred Lord Tennyson
I.
The plain was grassy, wild and bare,
Wide, wild, and open to the air,
Which had built up everywhere
An under-roof of doleful gray.
With an inner voice the river ran,
Adown it floated a dying swan,
And loudly did lament.
It was the middle of the day.
Ever the weary wind went on,
And took the reed-tops as it went.
Wide, wild, and open to the air,
Which had built up everywhere
An under-roof of doleful gray.
With an inner voice the river ran,
Adown it floated a dying swan,
And loudly did lament.
It was the middle of the day.
Ever the weary wind went on,
And took the reed-tops as it went.
II.
Some blue peaks in the distance rose,
And white against the cold-white sky,
Shone out their crowning snows.
One willow over the river wept,
And shook the wave as the wind did sigh;
Above in the wind was the swallow,
Chasing itself at its own wild will,
And far thro' the marish green and still
The tangled water-courses slept,
Shot over with purple, and green, and yellow.
And white against the cold-white sky,
Shone out their crowning snows.
One willow over the river wept,
And shook the wave as the wind did sigh;
Above in the wind was the swallow,
Chasing itself at its own wild will,
And far thro' the marish green and still
The tangled water-courses slept,
Shot over with purple, and green, and yellow.
III.
The wild swan's death-hymn took the soul
Of that waste place with joy
Hidden in sorrow: at first to the ear
The warble was low, and full and clear;
And floating about the under-sky,
Prevailing in weakness, the coronach stole
Sometimes afar, and sometimes anear;
But anon her awful jubilant voice,
With a music strange and manifold,
Flow'd forth on a carol free and bold;
As when a mighty people rejoice
With shawms, and with cymbals, and harps of gold,
And the tumult of their acclaim is roll'd
Thro' the open gates of the city afar,
To the shepherd who watcheth the evening star.
And the creeping mosses and clambering weeds,
And the willow-branches hoar and dank,
And the wavy swell of the soughing reeds,
And the wave-worn horns of the echoing bank,
And the silvery marish-flowers that throng
The desolate creeks and pools among,
Were flooded over with eddying song.
Of that waste place with joy
Hidden in sorrow: at first to the ear
The warble was low, and full and clear;
And floating about the under-sky,
Prevailing in weakness, the coronach stole
Sometimes afar, and sometimes anear;
But anon her awful jubilant voice,
With a music strange and manifold,
Flow'd forth on a carol free and bold;
As when a mighty people rejoice
With shawms, and with cymbals, and harps of gold,
And the tumult of their acclaim is roll'd
Thro' the open gates of the city afar,
To the shepherd who watcheth the evening star.
And the creeping mosses and clambering weeds,
And the willow-branches hoar and dank,
And the wavy swell of the soughing reeds,
And the wave-worn horns of the echoing bank,
And the silvery marish-flowers that throng
The desolate creeks and pools among,
Were flooded over with eddying song.
Add a Comment
|
acousticeagle wrote on Oct 24, '08, edited on Oct 24, '08
Pavlova,
an amazing artiste and an amazing and favourite Aussie dessert, so the
name "Pavlova" is a word often heard in kitchens as a special dessert
for functions and after a sunday roast etc. I thought I would add a link
to Wikipedia about this dessert, created for the famous ballerina:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pavlova_(food) From Wiki: "The dessert is believed to have been created to honour the dancer during or after one of her tours to Australia and New Zealand." The recipe for it is easily found on the net. I have made it (it contains mostly egg white) many times. Yummy, fluffy and crisp on the outside with fruit and whipped cream on top. The ballerina is never to be forgotten in Australia! Oh, here's one recipe so you can see what's in it. I've never had one with blueberries on top, like this recipe, but I've eaten lots with strawberries and fruit salad on top. http://www.inmamaskitchen.com/RECIPES/RECIPES/Desserts/Pavlova_recipe.html |
brendainmad wrote on Oct 24, '08
I love the painting of Anna too. Thanks for another lovely blog.
|
No comments:
Post a Comment