The Thirties fashion for maritime themed architecture reached a kind of end point with this example from the Belgian coast at Oostduinkerke near De Panne, built in 1933 as a restaurant. Rather than borrow the sweeping curves and raking profiles associated with marine architecture this developer settled for a coarse and ill-proportioned parody of an ocean liner complete with replica funnels. There’s a long and honourable tradition of this attention seeking, novelty design in the United States where B 52s or diplodocus masquerade as gas stations and drive-ins take the form of donuts and frankfurters – sometimes known as Roadside Vernacular. Without the great American wide open spaces, European planners are wary of architecture that functions as self-promotion making this a rare exception. Ever the opportunist, the restaurateur adopted the name of the French liner Normandie when it entered service in 1937. It can still be seen through the windows of the passing Kusttram between De Panne and Oostende where we photographed it on a wet day last September.
Wednesday, 15 June 2016
Tuesday, 31 May 2016
The Hessisches Landesmuseum in Darmstadt houses a great and disparate variety of collections, bringing together areas of interest that are normally widely dispersed. It includes a large collection of paintings from the 13th. to the 20th. century, a comprehensive display of fossils from the Grube Messel, classical and Egyptian antiquities, Jugendstil arts and crafts, contemporary German art, Europe’s largest public collection of the work of Joseph Beuys (Block Beuys) and a natural history museum that includes one of Europe’s oldest and finest sequence of zoological dioramas.
The Darmstadt dioramas date from 1904 to 1910 and were the work of Gottlieb von Koch (curator of zoology) and Karl Küsthardt (taxidermist). Over a thousand specimens are displayed in ten dioramas, each populated by a specific region or continent. Generic local environments were simulated with landscape reconstructions, casts of trees and natural forms in front of painted scenes. Much hemp, plaster and chicken-wire was consumed in the process. Conservation has always been a challenge and by the time the museum closed in 2006 for an extended period of refurbishment, every single specimen exhibited evidence of pest infestation. Each item spent two periods of four weeks in a Thermo-King container at -35°C – the first to kill off the pests, the second to destroy any surviving cold-resistant clusters of eggs. In reassembling the displays a conservative restoration strategy was employed to ensure that as far as possible their value as historic records of categorisation and selection priorities remained unimpaired.
For the idle and uninformed observer such as myself the charm of these dioramas is the window they provide into past ways of thinking about the natural world. The sense of wonder they generated in the early decades of the last century has not been entirely diluted by contemporary familiarity with high-definition digital imagery. Indeed in a visual culture that has normalised the Surrealist appetite for the bizarre, the appeal is enhanced when we contemplate the strange and unfeasible combinations of life-forms arranged into unlikely co-existence in confined spaces. As my old friend Chris Mullen put it – where else does the ferret lie down with the Foo Foo bird?
Wednesday, 18 May 2016
Two images of Frankfurt Hauptbahnhof a century apart revealing a remarkably well preserved façade on a grandiose building completed in 1888 after nine years in construction. The mighty Atlas still struggles to support the globe even with the assistance of Iron and Steam. Two more photographs taken on the platform of this monumental terminus under the vast uninterrupted canopy of glass and cast-iron of which this is the second of three. The station largely escaped wartime bombing and its imperial grandeur survives unimpaired. A major operational inconvenience is the fact that through trains must reverse out of the station to resume their journeys, occupying track space that could be used more efficiently. An unintended consequence of the 19th. century civic leaders of Frankfurt believing their city to be everyone else’s ultimate destination.
Monday, 25 April 2016
I approve of museums that take the trouble to offer public access to some of the treasures that would otherwise lie buried in their vaults. At Beamish there’s a building that holds a reserve store of accumulated items that have yet to be deployed on public display. It’s open to visitors and contains a fascinating miscellany of uncelebrated objects, for the most part arranged thematically but allowing for some strange and bizarre juxtapositions. These are the raw materials of future projects, destined for a set-dressing role but, for now at least, allowed to speak for themselves and available for singular contemplation. The totality of the Beamish experience – the colliery village, the North Country main street, and the period-costumed staff, is rather more problematic and raises all sorts of issues around conservation, authenticity and the dignity of labour. To be addressed in a future post.
Saturday, 9 April 2016
Another in the long series of small books for children distributed free of charge by Colman’s of Norwich, Mustardman Ready. Our dapper seafarer sails to distant lands where his cargo of Colman’s products restores the health of the local despot, transforming King Krosspatch into King Kontent and fortuitously, opening up a new export market for British-made Mustard, Starch and Krusto. An inspiring tale of entrepreneurial economics. It turns out that Colman’s Krusto was a pastry-maker that with the addition of water produced a perfect pie crust and thanks to the East Anglian Film Archive (EAFA) we can all watch a 7 minute promotional film from 1928 where Krusto comes to the rescue of an uxorious husband and a desperate-to-please spouse. A dismal succession of granite-like baked offerings that even the dog rejects is brought to an end by the entry of a sophisticated friend who brings Krusto into the unhappy household. The resulting pie is a triumph and domestic harmony is restored. The EAFA is worth exploring for more treasures from the strange world of Colman’s publicity – the Mustard Club film is a riotous celebration of gluttony – Bunuel at the Bullingdon Club.
Friday, 8 April 2016
The cartooning abilities of H M Bateman fitted very comfortably into the Guinness tradition of humorous, quirky and eccentric advertising. The standard had long been set by the work of John Gilroy but Bateman brought something fresh with his carefully considered variations on themes of shock and social outrage. Most of Bateman’s contributions came during World War 2 or immediately after and provided welcome splashes of colour in an otherwise drab and dreary Britain, relentlessly pressured by the exigencies of war. Compared with the illustrations Bateman produced for Bar One cigarettes in the 1950s the Guinness drawings have a precision and bite that would later be replaced by a more slapdash approach. This is less than half of Bateman’s Guinness output but it’s enough to give a flavour of what he achieved.
Monday, 4 April 2016
Today’s images are the front and back cover of a pamphlet produced in the 1930’s by the London and North Eastern Railway (LNER) to promote the visual delights to be experienced through the carriage window on a trip from London to Edinburgh on the route of the ‘Flying Scotsman’. It’s a companion piece to a brochure featured here in June 2008. On this occasion the artist signs himself Bryan de Grineau, thinly disguising his true identity, Charles William Grineau (1883–1957). Grineau’s reputation seems to rest on his spirited motoring illustrations (described here) but he also produced several improbable visions of future transport (including a spectacular city airport suspended over the River Thames) for the covers of Modern Wonder magazine in the late 1930s that are reproduced below.