Gertrude Hermes, Enid Marx, Evelyn Dunbar, Ithell Colquhoun, Wilhelmina Barns-Graham, Barbara Jones, Prunella Clough and Monica Poole all share a few things between them. They were all women artists during the 20th century, they were all British and they all featured in a splendid exhibition we saw today at St Barbe Museum + Art Gallery.
Sadly, no photographs were allowed, so I can’t show my favourite picture. Generally when there’s a Draconian rule against photography, I refuse to advertise the exhibition at all, however, this exhibition (Private Lives: Eight Women Artists) finishes tomorrow so I feel I can write about it without compromising my principles.
With regard to photography, here’s a picture I took in the museum café where we had lunch.
And, for a small country museum and art gallery, St Barbe produced an excellent and beautifully curated exhibition. A lot of works by the eight women, borrowed from places like the Imperial War Museum, the Tate, London Transport Museum and private owners. Reading the labels, it was obvious this was a proper, professional exhibition.
And it was an excellent chance to learn about eight artists of whom I was previously unaware.
Of the eight, I guess the paintings that most appealed to me were Wilhelmina Barns-Graham’s abstract works. Mind you, the wood cut works of Monica Poole were pretty amazing. In particular, the actual wood block used for one of her pieces. I don’t think I’ve ever seen an actual wood block. The intricacy on the surface of the wood was extraordinary; an artwork in and of itself.
The museum and art gallery opened in 1999 then had an extensive refurb in 2016-17. The building was originally St Barbe’s School, which opened in 1835, and operated as such until 1994. Which explains why the café is called the Old School House.
I can’t find the relevance of St Barbe to the town, gallery or school. I did notice the other day that there was (is?) a St Barbe family that was buried in Lymington. Maybe they were rich inhabitants who left a lot of stuff to the town in order to avoid inheritance tax. Maybe when I visit the museum, I’ll find out. Mind you, I better take a notebook because of the photograph embargo.
While the food and the exhibition were excellent, I have to say the walks into and out of town were anything but. The traffic was just appalling, the air almost unbreathable. There is no way we would live in Lymington. Which is a shame because, apart from the vehicles, the town has so many islands of delight to visit and enjoy.
The pub above may look delightful (and maybe it is) but the traffic just outside is almost non-stop. It would not be a peaceful drinking hole. I guess people don’t mind it like we do.
