Albrecht Dürer was an amazingly well travelled chap and his art was extraordinary. He was both printmaker and painter, an extraordinary representative of the German Renaissance. Born and raised in Nuremberg and taught by his father and then Michael Wolgemut, Albrecht decided he needed to travel to broaden his horizons. He also managed to broaden the horizons of an awful lot of other artists along the way.
The National Gallery has been showing a retrospective of his work and I visited today.
Mirinda had to go into town for a meeting and I said I’d go with her. Not for the meeting, I hasten to add. No, my day was far more fun.
First up, there was the exhibition.
I’d heard of Dürer and was familiar with his style of work but I had no idea he was so well travelled. And this was what the exhibition took as its central theme. His trips throughout Europe and the people he met and influenced. Not to mention the ones who influenced him as well. The early 16th century was a time of great artistic exchange and growth.
Dürer knew Bellini (I saw an exhibition of his works in 2018) as well as many other contemporary artists. There was an amazing exchange of ideas as well as opportunities for artists like Dürer to see things like real lions, for instance.
In fact, he was painting lions before actually seeing one in real life. They looked a bit odd, as if they couldn’t walk on all fours; as if they had two smaller legs at the front. That was because his only experience of lions was heraldic ones.
His non-lion knowledge went out the window when he visited a zoo on one of his wanderings. The real lions he drew and painted were extraordinary. It proved what an amazingly skilled artist he was. If any proof was in fact required.
The exhibition was wonderful and, in the time-honoured tradition of this blog, I have a favourite. Of course. My favourite work was this:
It is Lot and his daughters heading into the mountains in order to restart the population with a bit of incest. In the background is the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah and, in between, alone on the path, is a strange object. It is, in fact, Mrs Lot turning into a pillar of salt.
The things I love about this painting are the cartoon-ish figures, the fact that one of Lot’s daughters is already pregnant, and that this was the reverse side of another painting.
He painted it 1496-9 along with the reverse side which was a rather sombre Madonna and child. I think this painting shows how he foresaw the coming of Walt Disney.
I left the exhibition with a renewed appreciation of a great, and well travelled, artist.
Another very well travelled fellow was the barber I visited for a bit of a trim today.
I was about to enter The Harp when I saw my reflection in the window. My hair was poking above my ears, from under my hat. Fortunately, there was a very handy barber next to the pub. I went in and he directed me towards a chair, then, while cutting my hair, furnished me with a beer and some wonderful conversation.
Upon discovering that my Surrey accent was, actually, from a little further south, we started talking about Australia. He spent a lot of time in Melbourne, where his ancestors emigrated in 1935 to become very successful farmers. He also travelled throughout Canada. He told me that when he left the plane, the snow in Nova Scotia was up to his waist.
He also told me about the man he dubbed the worst barber in London. A man he worked with 20 years ago. A man who quit London and moved to Perth, Australia, where he set up his own barber shop. He now runs a successful chain of barber shops. I guess he’s a better businessman than barber. Or maybe he’s better cutting upside down.
I walked out of the shop a new man and entered The Harp only to turn around and walk out again. The place was crowded. The only seats had bums on them. To be fair, you only need about ten people in The Harp for it to be full.
Just around the corner, I found another delightful little pub. This one was called The Lemon Tree. There were a few people in but there were enough chairs for me to sit down. I swanned in, ordered beer and lunch, sat down and was happily ensconced in my book for a lovely hour.
Normally, a pub with a telly would put me off but, firstly, I couldn’t see it from where I was sitting and, secondly, the sound wasn’t on. As I said, a delightful little pub.
Of course, having managed to drink my own weight in beer, I needed to have a bit of a walk around before finding a Starbucks for a much-needed hit of caffeine. Then, eventually, I needed a toilet.
Of course, if you don’t carry small change, it’s quite difficult finding somewhere to relieve oneself in London. I don’t carry any kind of cash so, obviously, I had to find somewhere convenient and free. I popped into the Transport Museum, ordered a cup of tea and ice cream then used theirs. It always seems a bit odd using a toilet then filling yourself up with more liquid but, needs must.
I must say that I was expecting a British transport museum café to have pretty good tea. Sadly, my expectations were dashed. It was fine, but just not what one expects from British Rail. I guess I’ve been spoiled by Brief Encounter.
Finally, I met up with Mirinda and we headed back home on a delightfully less than packed train. A very successful excursion to town, I’d say.
