Archives: Persephone Post

Normal life goes on as much as it can. Although there is a completely new normal and this morning we are ringing the printer (the wonderful Lavenham, who have printed the Quarterly then Biannually for twenty years) that we are postponing it for a month. This is not because we can’t get it written or they can’t print it: it’s because we can’t fulfil the orders that flow in once a Biannually has been sent out. The shop is of course closed but one of us goes in most days to do the orders. However, one person at a time could not cope with the usual April/May volume of orders,  so, very regretfully, we are postponing the two new books and the new Biannually by three weeks – until May 14th. But for now, a bit of normality. Everyone knows that Newnham College, Cambridge was where Virginia Woolf gave the talk that became A Room of One’s Own. Newnham has a magnificent heritage (of alumnae, history, buildings, gardens, moral strength) and it also has a small but magnificent collection of objects. Here is an 1881-91 William De Morgan jar.

‘A row of historical railway cottages, tucked away from the bustle of Wood Green nr Alexandra Palace, North London, takes the visitor back in time.The tranquil country style garden at 2 Dorset Rd flanks three sides of the house. Clipped hedges contrast with climbing roses, clematis, honeysuckle, abutilon, grasses and ferns. Trees incl mulberry, quince, fig, apple and a mature willow creating an interesting shady corner with a pond. There is an emphasis on scented flowers that attract bees and butterflies and the traditional medicinal plants found in cottage gardens. No 4 is a pretty secluded garden (accessed through the rear of no 2), and sets off the sculptor owners figurative and abstract work. There are three front gardens open for view. No 14 is an informal, organic, bee friendly garden, planted with fragrant and useful herbs, flowers and shrubs. No 22 is nurtured by the grandson of the original railway worker occupant. A lovely place to sit and relax and enjoy the varied planting. No.24a reverts to the potager style cottage garden with raised beds overflowing with vegetables and flowers.’ Railway Cottages, Dorset Road are on open on Sunday 5th July. This is firmly in the diary and no virus or any other kind of obstacle is going to stop us being there. Fingers crossed. More details here.

The Laundry, Llanrhaeadr, Denbigh was once a field (cf. an article in the local paper here). The owners have created a website and a blog about the garden, which is open on June 7th (and by arrangement).

Hilltop, Gillingham, Dorset will be open on Sunday 19th July. If life gets back to normal. Details here.

‘The British didn’t stop at birds and plants.’ wrote Rachel Spence in the Financial Times. ‘They also commissioned images of architecture, festivals, dancers, soldiers, craftspeople, villagers, princes and courtiers. Yet it is difficult to regard these drawings — which encompass images of dancing girls, soldiers, princes, village elders and horse merchants — without unease. Pinioned against those empty backgrounds just as the Indian birds were, many of the figures have a lonely, vulnerable aspect that reveals the colonising impulse behind the European urge to chronicle, taxonomise and demystify their new territory. Nevertheless, Forgotten Masters has much to tell us. Since the 1950s, this genre of art has generally been known as Company School painting. Disregarded by historians of Indian art due to its Eurocentric characteristics and the names of its artists being either unknown or neglected, its topography has remained unmapped. But it is worth exploring for, beyond the art itself, the mechanisms by which it was commissioned reveal fascinating insights into the reality of relations between British and Indian people in pre-imperial India. Some of the most revealing portraits are of European patrons. Lady Impey, for example, is captured by a painter thought to be Shaikh Zain Ud-Din in the act of “Supervising her Household in Calcutta”. Wearing a turban, as her servant presents another turban for her inspection, she sits on a footstool under the breeze of a fan held by a page boy. Surrounded by Indian servants, who are arranged in various tasks with stylised precision, and one European steward, Lady Impey appears at once in control yet out of place. Was the painter conscious that he was failing to flatter?’