The Ingram Collection @ the Lightbox, Woking

Chris Ingram is a local Woking boy made good. Born in 1943, Ingram attended Woking Grammar School, but left half way through the sixth form to pursue what became a very successful career in advertising. Around 2000 he started collecting art and soon decided to specialise in Modern British Art. The Ingram Collection now amounts to some 450 pieces. When Woking Council approached him with a view to helping to fund a new gallery and museum, the idea dawned of not only funding it, but making it the permanent home of his collection. Thus was conceived what is now the strikingly modern new gallery, the Lightbox, just ten minutes walk from Woking station and with a courtyard cafe overlooking the picturesque Basingstoke Canal.

Sculpture of H.G. Wells by Wesley Harland outside the Lightbox Gallery, Woking

Sculpture of H.G. Wells by Wesley Harland outside the Lightbox Gallery, Woking

I counted four display spaces – a permanent exhibition on Woking’s history, a top floor gallery showing an selection of 20th century self-portraits from the collection of Ruth Bourchard, the Art Fund Gallery on the ground floor, and on the first floor a large space devoted to the Ingram Collection. The Ingram Collection is now considered the biggest privately owned publicly accessible collection of Modern British in the country. Accessibility is the key word – Ingram wants as many people as possible to share, enjoy and interact with the work, and so the curators have the interesting challenge of coming up with new themes and ideas, as well as strategies of outreach, getting schoolchildren involved, hosting lectures and so on. It is a beehive of activity.

In their own words: Artists’ voices from the Ingram Collection

The idea for this show is to divide a selection of works into six themes, arrange sofas in and around each cluster of works with headphones, so that we can listen to audio recordings from the artists who created them. These were very interesting, but only had relevance if you knew who the artists are in the first place, or had a handle on their styles.

For a start the most prominent pieces in the show were the dozen or so sculptures, and the presence who emerged strongest was Dame Elizabeth Frink (1930-1993). Her work is like Henry Moore but reined much much back, back towards more obvious figurativism. Everything here was highly figurative and representational.

Gogglehead by Dame Elisabeth Frink (1973)

Gogglehead by Dame Elisabeth Frink (1973)

Only a few minutes ago I read on her Tate Gallery profile page that ‘Thuggishness is a bit of a preoccupation with me.’ Maybe that’s why I liked them – they have a virile, punky threatening quality which the huge surreal figures of Henry Moore, for me, generally don’t.

Riace III by Dame Elisabeth Frink

Riace III by Dame Elisabeth Frink

Frink did loads of animals. There’s an admirable print of a horse on its side, and a striking one of a baboon.

Baboon by Dame Elizabeth Frink (1990)

Baboon by Dame Elizabeth Frink (1990)

The other dominant presence, in terms of number of pieces and impact, is Eduardo Palaozzi. There’s a lovely 1950s b&w photo of him in some London mews as the poster for the show, and a big late statue, one of the half-man, half-robot figures he perfected in the 80s and 90s, stands outside the gallery.

Standing figure by Eduardo Palaozzi

Standing figure by Eduardo Palaozzi

From earlier in his career there’s a sharp-nosed bust, looking a bit like the V for Vendetta face.

 Mr Cruikshank by Sir Eduardo Paolozzi (1950)

Mr Cruikshank by Sir Eduardo Paolozzi (1950)

Paolozzi began his career producing hundreds of comic defacements of 1950s consumer adverts and/or science fiction comics. There are a couple of classic examples here.

Au telephone by Sir Eduardo Paolozzi (1953)

Au telephone by Sir Eduardo Paolozzi (1953)

Although you’ve missed it, you can still read about (or buy the book of) the recent big retrospective of Eduardo Paolozzi at the Whitechapel Gallery. Or read my review of it. There were maybe 40 works in the show, which gave a strong sense of the visual world of the middle decades of the twentieth century.

Pandarus by Kenneth Armitage

Pandarus by Kenneth Armitage (1963)

Standing out from the 1950s earnestness was a piece of sexy playfulness by British Pop artist, Allan Jones (b.1937).

What with sitting on the cosy sofas and listening to recordings of Paolozzi, Frink et al giving their thoughts on issues like leaving home, or finding a place in  the world, this was a very interesting and enjoyable way to spend an hour.

For a confirmed Londoner, the Lightbox was a real find and I happily took out a year’s membership at a bargain £7.50.

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Artists’ self portraits from the Ruth Borchard Collection @ the Lightbox

The Lightbox is a groovy gallery and art centre 10 minutes walk from Woking station. Its outdoor cafe overlooks the scenic Basingstoke canal and inside it has no fewer than three separate galleries as well as a permanent display on the history of Woking.

The three-room space on the third floor is currently showing a selection from the collection of Ruth Borchard (1910-2000). Borchard was the daughter of a Jewish Hamburg merchant. In 1938 the Borchard family fled the Nazis and settled in Reigate (it must have been quite a culture shock). She was a writer with an eye for art, and enjoyed visiting London’s art galleries and shops until one day she had the idea of filling the blank spaces on her parents’ walls with self-portraits by up-and-coming new artists.

Ruth Borchard by Michael Noakes (1958)

Ruth Borchard by Michael Noakes (1958)

She set herself a budget limit of 21 guineas and took to visiting private art galleries, art schools and artists’ studios, seeking out new talent and sometimes commissioning established artists to paint themselves. This show displays around 100 of these self-portraits.

None of them are by first division artists – David Hockney, Peter Blake etc – but I recognised Michael Ayrton, Keith Vaughan, Ken Howard, and a few of the others. They’re the kind of interesting but not-quite-famous names you see at the Royal Academy Summer show year in, year out. Taken together it amounts to a fascinating overview of what was possible in this genre, by mostly British painters (i.e. not European or American) from the War until the very early 60s (before Pop), a period I’ve always found worthy but a little drab.

Borchard’s collection includes a number from before she began collecting – the earliest from 1929 – and the last from 1970.

The artist as nice old boy

There’s quite a diversity of style but certain themes or similarities emerged. I liked works which showed the artist as all too often they are – nice middle-aged, middle-class men – such as this self-portrait by Lawrence Gowing (1918-91), who went on to become a noted art expert and curator.

Self-portrait by Lawrence Gowing (1963)

Self-portrait by Lawrence Gowing (1963)

Self-portrait by John Wynne-Morgan (1906-991).

Self-portrait by John Wynne-Morgan (1960)

Self-portrait by John Wynne-Morgan (1960)

Obviously the styles and visions are distinct, but there’s a basic sense that the artist is a decent cove. The self-portrait by Ken Howard (b.1932) is an early work by an artist who’s gone on to have a long career.

Self-portrait by Ken Howard (1961)

Self-portrait by Ken Howard (1961)

Self-portrait by Michael Ayrton (1921-75). His works from the 50s varies from neo-Romantic to Surreal. I know him for his statue of the Minotaur.

Self-portrait by Michael Ayrton (1961)

Self-portrait by Michael Ayrton (1961)

Michael Noakes (b.1933) who became known for his portraits of actors, writers, academics, diplomats, politicians, lawyers, churchmen, senior military personnel, businessmen, leaders of the industry and members of the Royal Family.

Self-portrait with a beard by Michael Noakes (1958)

Self-portrait with a beard by Michael Noakes (1958)

Go mad!

At the other extreme are the guys who decided to let rip! Frederick Newton Souza (1924-2002) the first post-independence Indian artist to achieve high recognition in the West. According to Wikipedia, ‘Souza’s style exhibited both low-life and high energy.’

Self-portrait by Frederick Newton Souza

Self-portrait by Frederick Newton Souza

Andrej Kuhn (1929-2014). Maybe the foreign names are an indicator that they felt free to work outside the conventions of English niceness.

Self-portrait with wood carving by Andrej Kuhn (1963)

Self-portrait with wood carving by Andrej Kuhn (1963)

Trevor Hodgson (b.1931) There’s not much info about Hodgson on the internet, but I liked this a lot, very characteristic of the era. Good.

Self-portrait by Trevor Hodgson (1958)

Self-portrait by Trevor Hodgson (1958)

Let’s pretend to be French

I liked this sort of Vorticist image by William Gear (1915-1997) a Scottish artist who spent the late 1940s living in Paris.

Self-portrait with wood carving by William Gear (1953)

Self-portrait with wood carving by William Gear (1953)

Marek Zulawski (1908-1985) was born in Rome but lived and worked in London. I like this Cro-Magnon version of Matisse.

Self-portrait with a beard by Marek Zulawski (1949)

Self-portrait with a beard by Marek Zulawski (1949)

Mud

There was a clutch of works characterised by the use of heavy wadges of paint laid on with a spatula, in the style made famous by Frank Auerbach and which I loathe if nothing else, because they’re so samey. And so drab. Dennis Creffield born 1931.

Self-portrait by Dennis Creffield (1959)

Self-portrait by Dennis Creffield (1959)

Dorothy Mead (1928-75) was the first woman president of the student annual exhibiting society at the Slade School of Art in 1959.

Self-portrait by Dorothy Mead (1960)

Self-portrait by Dorothy Mead (1960)

Mario Dubsky (1939-85) a youthful prodigy who came under the influence of Keith Vaughan at the Slade.

Self-portrait by Mario Dubsky (1960)

Self-portrait by Mario Dubsky (1960)

Women

Not enough women artists, but the earliest and the last example are by women.

This is an early work by Ithell Colquhoun who went on to develop a distinctive, naive-style surrealism, infused with her personal brand of spiritualism. ‘After the 1950s, she was regarded as a ‘fantamagiste’, an unorthodox surrealist who focus on the occult’ (Wikipedia). Worth exploring more.

Self-portrait by Ithell Colquhoun (1929)

Self-portrait by Ithell Colquhoun (1929)

Lucinda ‘Linda’ Mackay, painted herself in 1971.

Self-portrait by Lucinda Mackay (1971)

Self-portrait by Lucinda Mackay (1971)

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