Leighton House Museum London

Dear Art Lover,

    Thanks to painter Vicki Sullivan in Australia, I was told about the Lord Leighton House/Studio and Museum in London.  Frederick (Lord) Leighton lived from 1830 to 1896.  He is probably most famous for his painting Flaming June, which consists of a sleeping curled-up young woman in a flowing semi-transparent orange gown.  I would include the image here, but I already have one image for each letter of the alphabet in this post!  Perhaps you know the work already: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flaming_June

     As logistics would have it, I ended up exiting the tube (subway/metro) at Holland Park and thought that I would walk south to the museum.  I do not know much about London and it was a lovely day for taking a walk anyway.  Holland Park is a charming little getaway when one needs a Nature fix.  And they have a pretty good public sculpture collection started that enhanced my stroll.
    

     I must say that I found it difficult to locate street signs in London.  However, sometimes I missed “the obvious” because the signs were large and low, so it very well could just have been my training to look up.  However, on this pair of signs shown, I must ask you, which side is the actual Abbotsbury Road?
    

     I have also decided that the Lord Leighton House just might be one of London’s best kept secrets.  It was a little difficult to find (my map was too simplified and I do not own a smart phone with GPS or online access).  More than half of the locals I asked for directions as I neared had no idea of what I was asking about.  The two who did told me that it was worth the search.

     Allora, as you enter the ground floor (after paying a seven British Pound fee, there are five rooms, one being a square sort of corridor that houses the wide staircase and shows off a stuffed male peacock.  Beyond that is a “red room” that appeared to be a possible dining room [no photo here].  A large and fairly empty room with an out-jutting area for sitting.  I actually do not remember seeing a kitchen.



     The main attraction on that floor is the chapel.  Or Turkish bath?  Anyway, you can tell where the artist’s taste lies.  It is pretty impressive and I wondered what it was like to live with such a space…fancier than any place that I have ever lived.

      To the left of that gorgeous room is a more English-looking study.  I love sketches and was thrilled that this image turned out.  [No photos are permitted at all in the home.]  You may see the figure for the Flaming June on the back left.  I love sketches.. in fact, I often like the preparatory sketches better than the final painting.  I have yet to pin down exactly why, but in general, the sketches seem more touchable.

     Once up the stairs, this exotic sitting space overlooking the Turkish room is the first one you see. And having lived in Florence, Italy, so long, it is impossible not to know who is the monk Savonarola.  However, I had no idea that he has a chair named after him!

    To the left is another sitting room with a fireplace (and peacock feathers sit in front of it).  I especially enjoy this circular composition by Frederic Leighton, Boy Saving a Baby from the Clutches of an Eagle, c. 1850-1852.  I found his slightly odd play of shadows over the figures interesting and I enjoy how the boy and the eagle fill the space with sort of parallel diagonals.

     The bedroom is sparsely furnished, but I am not sure if it is because this is not the original furniture and they kept things minimal or if the artist truly lived this simply.  The Web site says that Lord Leighton lived alone in that huge house, so that may explain the single bed as well.  No need for clutter in a space that large for only one man.

     Looking back into the stairway, one sees some truly lovely paintings.  I was especially enchanted with the one of the old bearded man (father, doctor?) hovering over a reclining boy.

     And finally we move into the studio.. how grande!  And I love the warm colors.  Most of Lord Leighton’s art is NOT in this house anymore.  I guess that is one of the perks of being famous.  However, I still enjoyed my visit. 

     I was intrigued by the ceiling window.  It looks as if there are various configurations possible up there for having or not having a certain light enter the room.  I wanted to know more . . .  Note also at the end I show you two snapshots of the large lawn in the back of the house.  I do not know much about London, but I suspect that is some costly real estate!  When I left, I walked along the Kensington area and took a bus down to Trafalgar Square… but likely I will write about my visit to the National Gallery in my next art newsletter (go to my site http://BorsheimArts.com to sign up for THAT subscription).

To read more about the Leighton House and Studio, as well as connected museums, check out:
https://www.rbkc.gov.uk/subsites/museums/leightonhousemuseum/aboutthehouse.aspx

 

     I am not above taking a donation.  Even five bucks is a help, if you enjoy what you read about and see in my images here on this blog.  Thank you.  [You may make a donation via the PayPal links on the side bar on the blog site:  http://artbyborsheim.blogspot.com ]

Peace,

Kelly

~ Kelly Borsheim, sculptor, painter, writer, teacher

http://BorsheimArts.com

The Kindness of Strangers and an Angry Nun

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

The short version of how I met Rita: I made a nun angry on a train. The Kelly version … hmmm:

Almost a year ago, I had flown from Florida to New York to Milano, Italia. From there I boarded a train to Firenze. It was mid-December. It was cold, the holidays were fast approaching, and I was alone. My divorce was final months before, I had packed up my life in America, traveled around to see as much of my family as I could, and again, I was returning to Italia without a love that I thought I had. In addition, my Italian landlady had jerked me around on my contract for a room in my former flat. While I would be staying at a friend’s place as I waited for my room to become available, I also knew that being in that place alone surrounded with my memories would make the winter feel even colder.

To top it all off, I had more luggage than I could manage alone. I met a man named Terry on the flight from NYC to Milano. [That was a story with a happy “ending.”] I helped him buy his train ticket to Firenze and he offered to take my portfolio of current art projects with him in first class. I could not even pretend to afford to ride with him and simply hoped that I had met an honest man. Thus, in boarding second class with my other full suitcases, I was in a low emotional place, physically tired, and feeling quite vulnerable. The car was full, except for my seat. I saw a space for my larger bag and proceeded to remove a small backpack so that my bag would not crush it.

After pushing my bag into the space, I put the backpack on top of my luggage. Before I even turned around, I realized that I was being yelled at . . . by a nun no less! No one had spoken Italian to me in about a year and a half so it took me a while to understand her words, but as luck would have it, a nun is not unlike most people. She repeated her points until she was sure there was no doubt in anyone’s mind about her position. Basically, she told me that I was raised wrong by my parents, and that I was rude and inconsiderate: The backpack was hers and I should have asked her permission before I touched it. [Thank GOD she was a nun or I would have received much more colorful insults!]

Embarrassed, belittled by a NUN, and already in a sad state of affairs, I think I just alternated a response of “scusa” with a “grazie” until she stopped yelling. I dropped down into my seat and put my other suitcase on my lap, squeezing its hard shape like it was a teddy bear as I felt tears well up and start to run down my face. In all of the scenes I can imagine, I had never envisioned this would be how I would start the new phase of my life!

As the train began its journey, I started to notice a very elegant man watching me from a nearby seat. He was much older than I and very beautifully dressed. His white hair topped a long and distinguished-looking face, the kind an artist would love to paint or sculpt. Each time I looked away, I felt myself looking back. He had such kind eyes and a lovely expression. He gave me a gentle smile and some time to relax, but at some point, he stood up and I could see that he was quite tall as well. He walked over and in a soft voice asked me if he could take the suitcase off of my lap and lift it up in the storage shelf above me. I let him and he returned to his seat. There was nothing to feel but gratitude.

Shortly after that, I heard the voice of an angel. She spoke to me in English and while I do not remember her exact words, they were along the lines of, “What a ridiculous nun!” The helping hands of strangers and Rita’s kind words opened up the world to me in that moment. She was sitting next to the nun, who sat across from me. (I only learned that yesterday because there was another nun sitting across from the elegant gentleman in the next section over. I thought she was the one, but the one who yelled pretended to be asleep after I finished with the bags.) I was sitting next to a man named Giorgio. After Rita broke the ice, she and Giorgio and I spent the rest of the train trip getting to know one another a bit and then Giorgio helped us with our understanding of Italian verbs. I arrived in Firenze a less frazzled woman. I also met Terry’s fiancé, Hanaa, at the stazione a Firenze and they both helped me take ALL of my bags to a taxi.

All of this to explain how I came to enjoy the most wonderful day with Rita yesterday in Firenze! She and her husband Tim are back in Italia for a short stay and I was delighted to see that the event Florens 2012 is currently happening.

Just outside of Zecchi’s art supply yesterday morning on my way to the studio, I ran into my long-time friend Alessandro. I had not seen him in over two years and we caught up over “un caffè.” He told me about the large marble cross art installation going on in Piazza Santa Croce. An Italian artist Mimmo Paladino has filled the square with a huge artwork of mixed materials, mostly marble. I thought this would be a perfect start to the tour of Firenze I would give my new friends after our lunch together.

Rita, Tim, and I met up at the Residenza il Villino where they were staying, not far from Teatro Pergola. Proprietors Elisabetta and Sergio are wonderful, with the kinds of smiles, warmth, and humor that have made Italian hospitality famous. I recommend staying there when you come to Firenze.

Our lunch included the porcini mushrooms shown here. Delicious!

We wandered on down to Piazza Santa Croce, whose basilica houses the tomb of the wonderful Michelangelo and many other great Florentines. I was delighted to see the snow-like field of tiny white pebbles covering the normally grey stoned floor of the piazza. Huge chunks of marble made me regret AGAIN leaving my stone-carving tools in America. Sigh… however, it was refreshing to see so many people enjoying the stones, including climbing up all over the artwork.

My friend Alessandro, an architect who lives right off of Piazza Santa Croce, told me that he was dismayed that so many of his neighbors just did not understand (and therefore like) this marble installation. But Ale and I agreed that it is beautiful to see the piazza in white and also to see how the people are interacting with the stone. [And after hanging out with him at his place last night, I must say that the crowds around the art installation were MUCH more fun than the obnoxious drunks hanging around in the streets that shout grunts repeatedly into the night just under Ale’s window. He said that Saturday nights are the worst and they are always like this now that more bars haved moved into the neighborhood. Sadly, Firenze might be going the way of Venezia…]

Anyway, Rita and Tim and I toured the central part of the city. We saw the sculptures in Piazza della Signoria and I showed them the spot on which occurred the Bonfires of the Vanities, as well as the execution of its originator, Savonarola, once the tide changed again. We caught the tail end of a parade just before we visited with my colleague madonnari (street painters). We saw some of the life in Piazza della Repubblica, including a weekend market of Italian-made food and herbal products. And we even visited the famous artist hangout, Le Giubbe Rosse.. There was a show of etchings going on and we met the artist. Also, some of the “gang” was there, as often the case, and Rita decided that I was famous, since I seem to run into people who know me wherever we go. Ha. Sweet.

We soon headed back to Elisabetta and Sergio and ended up at a favorite place of Florentines with tasty pizza. So, here we are, the five of us enjoying a lively and saucy conversation about love, marriage, and … how to be an Italian husband. Sergio and Elisabetta sure know how to make people feel welcome and as if you knew them forever – and would want to.

They walked me to my bike in Piazza Salvemini and from there I headed over to Alessandro’s home for a fun catch-up visit. What a glorious day yesterday was and I look forward to many more like it.

Savonarola and Florence Italy

“Is there any doubt” (sorry, family joke, ha ha Dad) why a sculptor would be drawn to Florence, Italy? I hope you enjoy this second posted batch of images that I took on the evening of 4 Gennaio 2008 in Piazza della Signoria. What a beautiful piazza, this one where Frà Girolamo Savonarola was burned! Savonarola preached against “moral corruption” during the Italian Renaissance. He was executed on the very spot that his Bonfire of the Vanities was lit. The location is marked in Piazza della Signoria and it is odd to watch so many tourists step over the spot, seemingly unaware of its historical significance.