Belgian king: David Hockney inspired me to paint
It was a long way from the late-spring tunnels of Bridlington, but there was something about the luminous greens and long shadows of the landscape behind the king that told of who had a hand in it.
King Philippe, the intensely private Belgian head of state, had agreed to be interviewed this week only after his children said he should answer questions from young people about what makes him tick.
What emerged from his answers on YouTube was a portrait of an accomplished amateur artist who counted among his chief inspirations David Hockney, the painter often thought to be Britain's greatest living artist.
Reclining in a chair in his palace, Philippe, 65, identified the landscape of his garden as a favourite, inspired by Hockney, 87.
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The Guardian
10 minutes ago
- The Guardian
Lessons for Young Artists by David Gentleman review – secrets from the studio
You know the art of David Gentleman even if you don't know you know it. Anyone who's passed through London's Charing Cross tube station has seen his life-filled black-and-white mural of medieval people, enlarged from his woodcuts, digging, hammering, chiselling to construct the Eleanor Cross that once stood nearby. His graphic art has graced everything from stamps to book covers to Stop the War posters in a career spanning seven decades. He says he's been making art for 90 years, since he was five. His parents were also artists, and in his latest book he reproduces a Shell poster by his father to show he follows in a modern British tradition of well-drawn, well-observed popular art. Perhaps it is because he learned from his parents as naturally as learning to speak – 'Seeing them drawing tempted me to draw' – that Gentleman dislikes pedagogy. He's proud that he never had to teach for a living, always selling his art. So his guide to the creative life, Lessons for Young Artists, is anything but a how-to manual or didactic textbook. Instead, it's like a visit to his studio where you sit at his shoulder, watching him work, while he shares tips, wisdom, anecdotes. If you have ever wished to take up pencil and paper, whatever your age, this book will sharpen your ambition by demystifying the process, making it feel the most natural and important thing in the world to draw that tree outside the window. The book's beautiful illustrations deepen his laconic advice. As he chats, the artist rifles through drawers to show views of London, Paris, New York. 'Rifling' is possibly the wrong word, for it suggests a chaotic workplace, of which Gentleman does not approve. You should keep your brushes in good nick and your studio tidy. Then again there are no rules, he admits, remembering how Edward Ardizzone used to work at the kitchen table surrounded by his family. The artist's workspace may seem a secondary issue but he's not alone in stressing it: Leonardo da Vinci paid attention to what an artist's room should be like in advice to young hopefuls written more than 500 years ago. In one of Gentleman's engrossing, calming drawings, his studio has a big window looking out on the city, designs on clipboards neatly hung up, a row of brushes, a couple of glasses of water (for watercolours). It's a workplace to envy, peaceful yet connected with the world. This is really a guide not just to the technical skills an artist needs but achieving an artistic state of mind. Gentleman lures you into his day-to-day work. 'Take a sketchbook with you everywhere you go,' he says, again like Leonardo, adding that it should be pocket-sized and the accompanying tools minimal. Too heavy a kit will 'become an excuse not to take it with you'. He adds watercolour to his drawings, either in the studio or in the open. A Suffolk church is seen through overgrown late summer weeds, with watery blotches in the sky. It started to rain as he worked: 'I like the way the spatters of rain are visible on the paper.' Another happy accident is a drawing of his son playing the piano that acquired an extra foot: a burst of motion in an otherwise tranquil scene. You find yourself not just wanting to be an artist but to be David Gentleman. 'Becoming an artist,' he says, 'is about learning to look at the world with a very sharp eye. When you walk down the street, try to pause and notice your surroundings.' On the facing page is a watercolour shot through with sunlight of the now-gone King's Cross gasometers, by a trashy canalside, ducks floating on the silver-touched water. Finding beauty in the neglected, unnoticed moments that pass us by is a lesson that can be applied to anyone's life, 'Young Artist' or not. This is diamond advice, lightly given. Sign up to Inside Saturday The only way to get a look behind the scenes of the Saturday magazine. Sign up to get the inside story from our top writers as well as all the must-read articles and columns, delivered to your inbox every weekend. after newsletter promotion Lessons for Young Artists by David Gentleman is published by Particular (£20). To support the Guardian, order your copy at
BBC News
an hour ago
- BBC News
Giant mural unveiled by Walthamstow estate residents
A six-storey high mural has been unveiled on a housing block in east London, inspired by the memories of those living on the estate. The Priory Court Unity Banner in Walthamstow was created by the street artists INSA, along with local residents, who shared their stories in workshops as part of a project celebrating the heritage of the giant artwork illustrates the area's links to the sewing trade and the artist William Morris, nods to the global diversity of residents and celebrates nature and has been created as an "augmented reality" artwork, so that it appears to animate as a moving GIF when looked at through a special viewer app. Ideas for the theme of the mural were developed during estate-wide resident consultations, which included face-to- face interviews, focus groups and workshops. 'Tells a wonderful story' Young people engaged in the project by learning some of INSA's painting techniques, while some older residents contributed by making appliques that were sewn on to the a trainee mural assistant, said it "meant a lot" to him to work on the project."I learned a lot of things, a lot of skills I didn't know about before."He added that "everyone smiles" when they look at the who helped produce the work, said he thought it would make the community "stronger and more connected"."I think the mural is absolutely incredible. You can just look at it and you can see that it tells a wonderful story."
Telegraph
2 hours ago
- Telegraph
Sacred Mysteries: John the Baptist as guide to the Ghent Altarpiece
St John the Baptist was lying face up on a table and Adam and Eve were standing beside one another. This was in the workshop at the Ghent Museum of Fine Arts where, since 2012, the Ghent Altarpiece, that stupendous work by Hubert and Jan van Eyck, has been undergoing restoration. From Tuesday to Friday until next March, you can watch the restorers at work. I saw damaged flecks exposed on the two panels of angel musicians. The whole polyptych, when its two wings are open, is 15ft wide and 11ft 6in high. It is now housed in the easternmost chapel, behind the high altar, of St Bavo's Cathedral in the old city of Ghent. I found visitors quietly contemplating it or taking photographs with their mobiles. I suspect that many were unaware that only four of the 12 panels on display with the wings open are the originals. The panels are arranged in two storeys and the upper storey (Adam, Angel Choir, the Virgin Mary, God, St John the Baptist, Angel Musicians, Eve) has been replaced with good colour photographs while the panels are away being restored. Someone at the Museum of Fine Arts regretted that the former practice of replacing absent panels with black and white photographs was not still being followed. One other panel is not original: a lower storey scene of Just Judges was stolen in 1934 and never recovered. It was replaced in 1945 by an indirect copy. Does it matter that visitors think they are seeing the full original? I'm not sure. I certainly didn't like the introductory presentation in the crypt where visitors are invited to wear virtual reality headsets. The visuals didn't give a convincing view but a 21st-century simulacrum, like something from a Lord of the Rings film. The audio was unconvincing too, speaking of the 'adoration'of saints in the Middle Ages, which is far from fair. One object in the crypt linked up with the Van Eycks' project in painting the altarpiece. It was a silver reliquary in the form of a head, enclosing a small relic from the skull of St John the Baptist. The cathedral was dedicated to this saint before it acquired the dedication to St Bavo, or Baaf in Flemish. John the Baptist is shown on two prominent panels: on the back in imitation of statuary, and on the front next to the central figure of God. To be sure, the widest panel shows the mystic scene of the Lamb of God, standing upon an altar, with blood flowing from its side. But John is the guide, as it were, who introduces the viewer to the heavenly tableau. The altarpiece was inaugurated on May 6 1432, when the son of Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy, was baptised in the church. John is depicted not only as the baptiser but also as a citizen of heaven, flanking God, with the Virgin Mary in the place of honour on the other side. So John retains his ascetic garment of camel hair, but over it he wears a cloak of rich green hemmed with jewels. He points to God, but with his left hand holds a book open at a prophetic text that we can see includes the illuminated word Consolamini – 'Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God,' the words of Isaiah familiar from Handel's Messiah. Isaiah continues with words that fit John the Baptist as 'The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord.' Part of the genius of the Van Eycks was to include the smallest detail without it swamping the overall images. Standing before the altarpiece behind its glass screen, it is impossible to discern every detail, which can be seen online. But I am glad I went to look at the altarpiece not virtually but in reality.
