On edge

I am sitting on my sofa surrounded by stuff… nearly all my stuff. I have a lot of stuff, mostly art works but I will confess to a number, a large number, of shoes. In my defence many of the shoes are over 15 years old from the time when I worked in central London and felt in need of a high heel. I think they’ve come back into fashion, oh, at least a couple of times now. That they are neatly stacked in boxes really doesn’t do much to diminish their number. The reason they are sitting in silent rebuke in the sitting room, and upsetting the Cat, is that I have finally got around to getting rid of the old, quite literally moth-eaten, carpet, which it turns out is even more upsetting to the Cat. She has taken to peeing in the hallway just inside the front door but only when I am away for an evening. Argh! I have Googled extensively the whys of this sudden, unpleasantly fragrant, turn of events and discovered either she’s upset or she’s got diabetes or some such. Cue an expensive trip to the vet to be sure it’s nothing sinister, which of course it isn’t. She is just majorly put out and gave me a really deep, sharp swipe on the hand to underline her displeasure. Fortunately I have suffered no ill effect from the assault, except to my wallet; the vet wisely decided to sedate her before any doing any further examinations. Still, the trip to the vet has done the trick. Or maybe it was that I put a new litter tray in the hall, replete with her usual litter, which she has now decided to use as a bed.

The Boyfriend has done a champion job in putting down the new flooring, a job that has had the bonus of the purchase of new and exciting tools, which to be fair has resulted in a beautiful finish. There really isn’t anything he can’t do. We are now in the home straight… only the hall and the smallest bedroom remain.

A person can only do so much. Friends mentioned that they had been to see the latest show Cutting Edge: Modernist British Print Making at the Dulwich Picture Gallery and recommended it highly. Off we went last Sunday. The exhibition brings together the work of the pioneering linocut printmakers of the Grosvenor School of Modern Art, including iconic works by Claude Flight, Sybil Andrews, Cyril Power, and Lill Tschudi, among others. As you would expect from artists working in the 1920s and 30s, the influences of Futurism, Vorticism and Cubism are evident but they have a style, verve, spirit and economy all of their own. I love the definite use of colour and the bold shapes, sometimes swirling, sometimes all sharp edges, repeating and folding back on each other. The subjects are everyday life but show clearly the impact of the huge changes to society and culture that were happening during the interwar years. In some works, I found an uneasiness with the rapidity of change, anxiety expressed in a few small strokes of colour. In others, a celebration of speed and the newly found time to enjoy sport and leisure. Not much different from now, then.

Claude Flight described the linocut block print as “an art of the people” and intended that they would be affordable and accessible to regular folk. And so they were… at the time… a not so small lottery win being needed now. Or a Thomas Crown plan to spirit them all away in the night. Instead, I bought the catalogue, and some cards. We ended with coffee and cake. A perfect Sunday, and not a shoe box in sight.

Cutting Edge: Modernist British Printmaking is on show at the Dulwich Picture Gallery until 8 September. Do go if you can. Inspiration abounds. The featured image is a detail from: Edith Lawrence, Canal Middelburg, 1932, Linocut, 23 x 32.5 cm, Osborne Samuel Gallery.

I am keeping the odd bit of carpet to reassure (placate) the Cat, which I shall get rid of by and by… yes, I know.