Of Mice and Megans - Part 2

The whole point of going to Sydney on Sunday was to catch an exhibition before it closed. If it hadn't been the last day I would have waited until there was no damned trackwork.

The exhibition was Prints and Drawings: Europe 1500-1900, at the Art Gallery of New South Wales. It took up four rooms in the Upper Gallery (you know those stairs behind the Information desk and opposite the bookshop? That's what they lead to. Now you know). Each room was a different century, so there was a nice chronological progression in style and technology. The only thing they could have done better would have been to have had a good explanation of each technique and maybe a display of some of the equipment involved, even if it was just at the level of "this is a woodblock, this is an etching plate". The catalogue, lovely though it is, has the same problem. The only thing described in any detail is mezzotint. I heard a few people saying "I wish I knew how this was done". So I know it isn't just me. An understanding of process does really help with appreciating these things. Yesterday and today were spent doing some cursory reading on auqatint and mezzotint, drypoint and lithography, but I wish I had known more about them on Sunday.

I had to get to the C18th and C19th rooms to see any drawings, but I suppose part of that is because there is more chance for mass produced prints to survive. And they don't cost as much as original drawings from 300 and 400 years ago. Initially I was a little disappointed, but that soon turned to fascination, partly because of the chronological arrangement, but mainly because of the breath-taking skill on display.

One of the things that struck me as I moved through the exhibition was the sheer number of artists who became printmakers in a desperate attempt to make a living. You couldn't, in all fairness, say "Oh, they did that because they weren't good enough". Clearly they were, but it has ever been thus. Once the patronage and guild systems broke down most artists struggled. Printmaking was a way of keeping your hand in and feeding the family.

Some printmakers became very inventive, playing with chiaroscuro and later with colour printing. Registration (lining it all up) was really important. Others played with effects of dark and light, thick and thin lines. There is a great deal of art and creativity involved.

So, some favourites.This was difficult to narrow down, as most of the exhibition was fantastic, but here goes.

Claude Mellan's "The Veil of St Veronica".

The Veil of St Veronica, Claude Mellan, 1649, engraving, AGNSW

It doesn't look like much here. The print is 43 x 31 cms, a good size, but what is interesting about it is how it is drawn. Here is a detail

The Veil of St Veronica, detail, Claude Mellan, 1649, engraving, AGNSW

The entire image is one continuous spiral line. Contours, shading, details are all achieved by varying the thickness of the line and by slightly altering its path, making it wavy or undulating. It was an impressive thing to see. Very clever. What becomes really interesting is when you try to reproduce this electronically. As an engraving The Veil could be easily and accurately reproduced in large numbers. Try scanning this or photographing it, and it's a nightmare. The AGNSW must have worked really hard to get the beautiful reproduction for the catalogue, but when I try to scan it I get strobe lines unless I blow it right up, and even then some areas aren't right, as in the detail. Look it up on Google and you'll see what I mean. So I find it ironic how modern technology cannot handle this, but old technology can.

Drapery study for Cymon and Iphigenia, Frederick, Lord Leighton, 1883, black and white chalk on brown paper, AGNSW 

Cymon and Iphigenia is one of my favourite paintings in the AGNSW. I often just stand before it, transfixed and strangely moved. And apparently the Gallery has a lot of the studies and preliminary drawings for it. On top of the joy of that piece of news, the simplicity of this drawing is wonderful. Just black and white on brown. And so well observed.  I just love it.

Then there's this:

Study of three male figures, Jean-Antoine Watteau, 1713, sanguine on cream paper, AGNSW

I love this because of how much it tells us about how Watteau worked. He was one of those artists whose technique said "stuff the academy". Normally an artist would arrange a tableau for the prep drawings and sketches, hiring in models for the figures, making everything just so within the studio. Not Watteau. He hired models alright, but he would hire them for an hour or two, get them to strike multiple poses and would sketch madly. The three images here are of the one model. All these poses and sketches were made in books to which Watteau would refer when he had an idea for a painting, adapting figure and clothes as needed. So he dreams up a painting with fifteen people in it (not unusual for him) and instead of hiring multiple models (fifteen if the artist isn't imaginative, less if he or she is), Watteau saves money and merely goes through his source books looking for what he wants (the books have since been largely broken up and sold as individual sheets. Someone made a tidy sum out of them). Funnily enough, the most highly worked figure on this particular page never appeared in any of his paintings. Watteau was well known for his use of trois crayons (my favourite, sanguine, black and white), but all his source books are in red alone.

There were a number of Rembrandt etchings and engravings. There were Rubens ones too, but there's a big difference between the two. Rubens closely supervised others to make prints of his paintings. Rembrandt made his own. Get rid of the middle man, keep all the profits. This is a big thing when you want Rubens' lifestyle but can't command his prices.

I was going to go into the old galleries afterwards and do some sketching, but the trackwork had severely eaten my time, so I bugged out and walked up to The Rocks to go to Parkers for some supplies. Great walk across the Domain and up past the Mitchell Library. Which is just as well. Parkers is closed on a Sunday.

So all that was left was to fight the reduced train timetable back to Epping and drive home with the music on. On the whole a good day, but not all according to plan. Still, as they say, the best laid plans...