Art history? No, we're starting this month with an exhibition that we'll be tagging #artherstory on social media. Now You See Us: Women Artists in Britain 1520-1920 opens at Tate Britain in London on May 16, with the aim of charting the path of women to being recognised as professional artists over the centuries. More than 100 will be represented: relatively widely known names such as Artemisia Gentileschi, Angelica Kauffman , Gwen John and Laura Knight , as well as the more obscure or neglected -- Levina Teerlinc, Mary Beale and Sarah Biffin . It's on till October 13, and as we've just seen a show in Germany focused on women artists over much the same timescale, we'll be keen to compare and contrast. Let's stick with a female theme. A short stroll up Millbank and across Lambeth Bridge, and you're at the Garden Museum, where from May 15 to September 29 you can see Gardening Bohemia: Bloomsbury Women Outdoors . The show takes you around the gardens of Vane
Let's face it: George IV was a womanising, dissipated, self-aggrandising spendthrift, with a taste for bling. And there's really nothing in George IV: Art & Spectacle at the Queen's Gallery in London to disabuse you of that received viewpoint. But the exhibition does succeed in its aim of demonstrating that George, as prince and king, hugely embellished Britain's royal art collection. And he definitely had an eye for a good painting, with a perhaps unexpected penchant for the understated sobriety of the Dutch Golden Age.
It can't have been easy being heir to the throne for decades, with the thought at the back of your mind that you might never actually get there. An unsuccessful marriage, too, the butt of jokes and worse. Not too difficult for anyone today to imagine all that, but there were added constraints on an 18th-century Prince of Wales: no chance to lead the troops into battle, and no trips to interesting foreign parts. All far too dangerous.
So when George finally ascended the throne aged 57 in 1820, he revelled in it. He spent £240,000 on his coronation, compared with the £70,000 cost for that of his father, George III, six decades earlier. And here he is, painted in his coronation robes by Sir Thomas Lawrence and recalling, to a certain extent, the Restoration glory of Charles II -- another King of Bling.
By the time Stubbs painted George, the French Revolution was well under way, and the turmoil across the English Channel proved to be rather profitable for this enthusiastic art-lover. He acquired large quantities of French furniture and porcelain that flooded the London market, but he also had an agent who could travel easily to the Continent on the lookout for pieces -- his French pastry chef François Benoit.
Probably George's most stunning legacy is the Royal Pavilion in Brighton, an Indo-Chinese pleasure palace by the Sussex seaside, and you can see his early experiments with an oriental style at Carlton House in this show. Robert Seymour's print, made towards the end of George's life, lampoons an obese King sitting in Chinese dress on top of a teapot labelled the Treasury. He's surrounded by his playthings, including the Pavilion on the wall behind him, and strokes the pet giraffe he kept in Windsor Great Park.
George was never shy about splashing the cash. In the week in 1811 when he finally became Prince Regent because of his father's mental illness, he bought a large number of prints, including one of Napoleon, about whom George had something of an obsession. It cost £63, making it the most expensive print he ever acquired.
On the other hand, he could spot a bargain too. Thomas Gainsborough's Diana and Actaeon -- an unfinished work that's the artist's only surviving mythological scene -- was bought from the painter's nephew and recorded in the Carlton House inventory at the unprincely sum of 20 guineas (£21).
The Gainsborough sits amid showy Sèvres porcelain (pastry chef at work here), but it's perhaps surprising to see just how much relatively unshowy Flemish and Dutch art there was in George's collection. For George, the greatest of the Old Masters were from the Low Countries -- Rembrandt, Rubens and van Dyck.
Rembrandt's superb double portrait of the shipbuilder Jan Rijcksen and his Wife, Griet Jans (she's caught in the act of delivering an apparently urgent message to him) is one of the highlights of this exhibition, as is Rubens's charming Portrait of a Woman. George traded four paintings for Rubens's Landscape with St George and the Dragon, with Charles I in the guise of St George amid a Thames-like landscape.
But George had an eye for the everyday, too, such as David Teniers the Younger's Peasants Dancing Outside a Tavern, which like Rubens's St George occupied a prominent place on the walls of Carlton House. And what could be more Dutch than Cuyp's The Passage Boat, plying its route from Rotterdam to Dordrecht between the water and the cloud-filled sky?
The Chevalier d'Eon had been a decorated French soldier, diplomat and spy, but in London he lived as a woman (his landlady was apparently unaware of his real sex) and earned money through fencing matches such as these. His true gender was only revealed following a medical examination after his death.
Lawrence is the star of the final room of the show, with no less than eight portraits, including that of George in his coronation robes and one of Pope Pius VII. Lawrence drew great admiration on his trip to Rome to paint the pontiff, earning the soubriquet of the English Titian.
But there's another breathtaking attraction: a selection from George's spectacular 4,000-piece silver-gilt dinner service, created over the course of a quarter of a century. This piece -- the massive Shield of Achilles -- captures the sense of over-the-top extravagance. George's prodigious outlay, though, has served the Royal Family well -- the Grand Service is still in use for state banquets 200 years later, a regal heritage that lives on.
This is a really well thought-out and well presented exhibition: informative and entertaining with plenty of stories, wonderful works of art, some wow factors and an audioguide that's filled with colour and music, including, appropriately Haydn's March for the Prince of Wales, composed in George's honour. Well worth a visit.
Red and yellow feather cape ('ahu'ula), 1824, Royal Collection Trust. © Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2019
Aelbert Cuyp, The Passage Boat, c. 1650, Royal Collection Trust. © Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2019
Alexandre-Auguste Robineau, The Fencing Match between the Chevalier de Saint-Georges and the Chevalier d'Eon, c. 1787-89, Royal Collection Trust. © Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2019
Philip Rundell, Shield of Achilles, 1821, Royal Collection Trust. © Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2019
It can't have been easy being heir to the throne for decades, with the thought at the back of your mind that you might never actually get there. An unsuccessful marriage, too, the butt of jokes and worse. Not too difficult for anyone today to imagine all that, but there were added constraints on an 18th-century Prince of Wales: no chance to lead the troops into battle, and no trips to interesting foreign parts. All far too dangerous.
So when George finally ascended the throne aged 57 in 1820, he revelled in it. He spent £240,000 on his coronation, compared with the £70,000 cost for that of his father, George III, six decades earlier. And here he is, painted in his coronation robes by Sir Thomas Lawrence and recalling, to a certain extent, the Restoration glory of Charles II -- another King of Bling.
Gorgeous George. And in this sumptuous exhibition, there's not only the Lawrence portrait to be admired, but some of the actual garments the King is wearing in it -- and which George himself designed for his big day. Time has faded the fabrics, but the craftsmanship and details are still astounding. And there is plenty of sparkle in the Royal headwear in the same showcases: the crown worn by the Queen on state occasions and the diadem that is familiar from her head on stamps and coins.
For a European monarch, nothing says wealth and status like jewellery and fur; but for one from the Pacific, it's all about the feathers. This cape was presented to George by the King and Queen of Hawaii in 1824 when they visited London. The garment is made up of thousands of naturally brightly coloured feathers -- no dye was used -- and is on show opposite George's crown and robes.
There's a picture, too, of the exotic royal couple at the opera in London, but their story ended tragically. They contracted measles, to which they had no immunity, and died before they could have an audience with the King.
George had caught the collecting bug early on -- possibly partly to compensate for all the things he couldn't do. He was presented with a London residence -- Carlton House -- when he came of age in 1783 and indulged in decorating it in an opulent style, fit for a future king. But he had a habit of commissioning more art, objects and furniture than it could house. George's principal portrait painter, John Hoppner, set aside a picture of the Austrian composer, Franz Joseph Haydn, whom the Prince greatly admired and met twice in the early 1790s. The unfinished work only entered George's collection after the artist's death.
George loved to spend lavishly on clothes and horses too, as recorded in this picture by George Stubbs of him in his late 20s, a painting that the then Prince of Wales was to remain fond of throughout his life.
Probably George's most stunning legacy is the Royal Pavilion in Brighton, an Indo-Chinese pleasure palace by the Sussex seaside, and you can see his early experiments with an oriental style at Carlton House in this show. Robert Seymour's print, made towards the end of George's life, lampoons an obese King sitting in Chinese dress on top of a teapot labelled the Treasury. He's surrounded by his playthings, including the Pavilion on the wall behind him, and strokes the pet giraffe he kept in Windsor Great Park.
On the other hand, he could spot a bargain too. Thomas Gainsborough's Diana and Actaeon -- an unfinished work that's the artist's only surviving mythological scene -- was bought from the painter's nephew and recorded in the Carlton House inventory at the unprincely sum of 20 guineas (£21).
The Gainsborough sits amid showy Sèvres porcelain (pastry chef at work here), but it's perhaps surprising to see just how much relatively unshowy Flemish and Dutch art there was in George's collection. For George, the greatest of the Old Masters were from the Low Countries -- Rembrandt, Rubens and van Dyck.
Rembrandt's superb double portrait of the shipbuilder Jan Rijcksen and his Wife, Griet Jans (she's caught in the act of delivering an apparently urgent message to him) is one of the highlights of this exhibition, as is Rubens's charming Portrait of a Woman. George traded four paintings for Rubens's Landscape with St George and the Dragon, with Charles I in the guise of St George amid a Thames-like landscape.
But George had an eye for the everyday, too, such as David Teniers the Younger's Peasants Dancing Outside a Tavern, which like Rubens's St George occupied a prominent place on the walls of Carlton House. And what could be more Dutch than Cuyp's The Passage Boat, plying its route from Rotterdam to Dordrecht between the water and the cloud-filled sky?
As so often at the Queen's Gallery, there's an excellent audioguide helping to flesh out the stories behind the art. And one of the best tales in this exhibition is about the Chevalier d'Eon, who's depicted here being watched by George in a celebrity fencing match at Carlton House.
Lawrence is the star of the final room of the show, with no less than eight portraits, including that of George in his coronation robes and one of Pope Pius VII. Lawrence drew great admiration on his trip to Rome to paint the pontiff, earning the soubriquet of the English Titian.
But there's another breathtaking attraction: a selection from George's spectacular 4,000-piece silver-gilt dinner service, created over the course of a quarter of a century. This piece -- the massive Shield of Achilles -- captures the sense of over-the-top extravagance. George's prodigious outlay, though, has served the Royal Family well -- the Grand Service is still in use for state banquets 200 years later, a regal heritage that lives on.
Practicalities
George IV: Art & Spectacle is on until May 3 at the Queen's Gallery, right next to Buckingham Palace and less than 10 minutes' walk from Victoria Station with London Underground and main-line rail services. The gallery is open daily from 1000 to 1730. Full-price tickets cost £13.50 including the audioguide. Tickets can be converted into passes giving free readmission for a year, which means you can see the next two exhibitions without charge.Images
Sir Thomas Lawrence, George IV (1762-1830), 1821, Royal Collection Trust. © Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2019Red and yellow feather cape ('ahu'ula), 1824, Royal Collection Trust. © Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2019
George Stubbs, George IV (1762-1830) when Prince of Wales, 1791, Royal Collection Trust. © Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2019
Robert Seymour, The Great Joss and his Playthings, c. 1829, Royal Collection Trust. © Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2019Aelbert Cuyp, The Passage Boat, c. 1650, Royal Collection Trust. © Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2019
Alexandre-Auguste Robineau, The Fencing Match between the Chevalier de Saint-Georges and the Chevalier d'Eon, c. 1787-89, Royal Collection Trust. © Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2019
Philip Rundell, Shield of Achilles, 1821, Royal Collection Trust. © Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2019
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