Category Archives: France

Art, Arts, Exhibitions, France

Art: Seurat and the Sea

COURTAULD GALLERY

Intro: A first-of-its-kind Courtauld exhibition brings together the French artist’s haunting seaside paintings

– Join the dots: Georges Seurat’s La Maria at Honfleur (1886)

Never before has there been an exhibition of seascapes by Georges Seurat, which is odd, given that the short-lived French artist’s “marines” make up the bulk of his output. So, the Courtauld in London – which excels at jewel-like exhibitions based on enterprising scholarship – deserves praise for mounting one. Let’s be clear, though. Seurat’s chilly Channel views are magnificently weird. But if that puts you off attending and buying a ticket at the exhibition, you should at least give the show and gallery a chance.

Seurat is remembered above all as the painter of interminable dots. By the time of his death in 1891, at the age of 31, he had produced only a handful of major canvases, mostly speckled with tiny spots and flecks of pigment, applied according to a rigorous and quasi-scientific method. (A Sunday on La Grande Jatte – 1884 (1884-86), in the Art Institute of Chicago, is undoubtedly the most famous.) As he result, he came across as an automaton. Compared with other modern artists, he’s uptight and hard to love.

Some will not be sure whether the Courtauld’s show of 26 works – including attractive oil sketches and preparatory drawings in Conté crayon, alongside 17 canvases – will convince sceptics that Seurat had a heart. His dotty views of ports and the open sea, produced on the northern coast of France over five summers between 1885 and 1890, contain anthropomorphic elements: masts, semaphores, bollards, buoys. But, with one or two matchstick-like exceptions, these seascapes are devoid of people.

The effect is rather uncanny, as if his subject were a model village. By representing glittering sunshine, fluttering pennants, and sailboats bobbing about on enticing, turquoise water, these pictures suggest summer holidays. But where are the holidaymakers? Seurat’s contemporaries sensed a “penetrating melancholy” in his seascapes, which, for all their luminosity, appear to anticipate the eerie landscapes of Giorgio de Chirico.

Nonetheless, Seurat was clever and original. Earlier artists, tackling marine themes, depicted seething waves; Seurat’s seas are calm as a millpond. His canvases are expertly composed and executed. They seem to contain the seeds of geometric abstraction and Op Art, even Minimalism.

Conceived during his final summer, and set at dusk, The Channel of Gravelines: An Evening (1890) is a meticulous mini-symphony in shades of purple, rose, and pink. In it, are established curious and yearning dynamics between inanimate objects – including, in the foreground, a lamppost and two prominent anchors that seem to move in concert, like synchronised swimmers. Seurat rejected the idea that his works contained “poetry”, arguing: “I apply my method and that is it.” Yet, others will say that if this wistful and mysterious painting isn’t what poetry looks like, then what does? 

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Britain, Defence, Europe, European Union, France, Government, NATO, Politics, Russia, Society, Ukraine, United States

Europe can deal with America’s perfidy

A NEW WORLD ORDER

Intro: Europe is stepping up. If it perseveres, and its leaders keep their promises, then it will be better able to deter Russia on its own – and survive in a reordered and more hostile world

A WATERSHED moment is upon us as Britain and the entire European continent faces a turning point, a second Zeitenwende, and a new world order. Whichever turn of phrase best describes the dramatic shifts unfolding since Donald Trump began his second US presidential term in January, one thing is certain: nothing will be the same again. The key question now is what, in practical terms, Europe can and will do to meet this challenge. Is this paradigm shift in the world order Europe’s moment, when it finally comes of age as a global player? Or will the EU and its close neighbours collectively fail to rise to the occasion, condemning their citizens to an era of domination by bigger and more determined rapacious powers?

With incautious recklessness, Donald Trump is in the process of attempting to do three extraordinary things. First, he is trying to force Ukraine, which has spent more than three years under murderous assault, to accept a “peace deal” on inimical terms dictated by himself and the aggressor, Vladimir Putin’s Russia. Second, in a stunning reversal of US policy, he is seeking a rapprochement with Moscow that includes re-establishing full political and diplomatic relations, lifting sanctions and launching joint economic partnerships. Third, he is telling Europeans they must henceforth defend themselves; that the US, in effect, is no longer a loyal, reliable partner or even necessarily a friend, and that NATO, for 76 years the solid bedrock of transatlantic security, is dispensable.

European leaders are broadly united in their alarm at all three of these unwise, irrational, and dangerous interventions. At the same time, most accept that even if Trump didn’t hold office, a change in the balance of US-Europe relations is inescapable and more than overdue. In a national address, Emmanuel Macron, France’s president, summed up the position well: “Europe’s future should not be decided in Washington or Moscow,” he said. “The war in Ukraine… continues with the same intensity [but] the US, our ally, has changed its position.” As a result, Europe was entering a new era of self-reliance.

Mr Macron, like many others, was accused of appeasing Putin in 2022. He has learned better since. He warns now that Russian imperialist aggression “knows no borders”, directly threatening France and Europe. This is not just talk. He has shown imaginative leadership, producing a tentative plan for a staged ceasefire that has Ukrainian support, lobbying, flattering, and even correcting Trump to his face in the Oval Office. The French president has also been promoting an Anglo-French proposal to deploy a European “assurance force” in Ukraine composed of a so-called coalition of the willing.

There has been repeated recourse in recent days for Europe to “step up” as a matter of urgency. Germany surprised many with a positive leap into the future. A country that nurtures visceral horror of debt announced a spectacular U-turn of its own – the amending of its Basic Law to permit multibillion-euro investments in defence and national infrastructure. Quite remarkable given that Friedrich Merz, the Christian Democrat who held off the far-right to win last month’s federal election, has a reputation as a fiscal conservative. Not any more. And he has gone further even than Macron in urging Europe’s “independence” from the US and pledging ongoing, expanded military aid for Kyiv. Other European leaders, notably Donald Tusk, have “stepped up” in commendable ways, too. Poland’s prime minister is in an unenviable position. A strong adherent in the transatlantic alliance, he, like so many others, now must feel utterly betrayed by Trump. There is a real sense of perfidy in the air. NATO is a crucial shield for Poland, as it is for the three neighbouring Baltic republics.

Keir Starmer also recognises the historic nature of this moment, and has risen to meet it. He has worked assiduously and with due care to restrain Trump’s worst instincts. His evident contempt, displayed in the House of Commons, for the ignorant comments of US vice-president JD Vance about “random countries” showed he is not afraid to push back. The PM’s collaboration with EU leaders is a very welcome post-Brexit development that should be extended beyond defence and security. Yet like them, the UK faces daunting hurdles.

These challenges – on reducing Europe’s reliance on America, boosting its defences, and maintaining support for Ukraine – were the focus of the emergency EU summit. As is often the case in Brussels, the results were mixed. New overall defence spending of £670bn was agreed. But whether it ever materialises will depend on national governments’ willingness to borrow. The usual divisions were apparent – such as Hungary blocking a joint statement on Ukraine. Within NATO, most member states, like Britain, are now committing to higher spending. Non-EU countries, such as Norway, are also piling in. Oslo is belatedly, yet commendably, doubling its aid to Kyiv.

Europe is stepping up. If it perseveres, and its leaders keep their promises, then it will be better able to deter Russia on its own – and survive in a reordered and more hostile world. But how effective Europe can be in rescuing Ukraine in the short term from a developing Trump-Putin axis is in serious doubt. Trump still refuses to provide Kyiv with meaningful post-war security guarantees. His suspension of military aid, mapping, and intelligence assistance is encouraging Russia to intensify attacks. More civilians are dying each day because of Trump’s treachery. With each passing day, Ukraine is further brutalised and degraded. A just peace looks further away than ever. 

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Arts, Books, France, History, Scotland

Book Review: The Thistle and The Rose

LITERARY REVIEW

HISTORY has taught us and we have become accustomed to the idea of Henry VIII being so vile and dastardly to his wives that it has been easy to overlook the fact that he was equally cruel and beastly to his sister.

Margaret Tudor was born two years before Henry, and he never seems to have forgiven her for arriving first. Add in the fact that she became Queen of Scotland at the age of just 13 when he was still only Prince of Wales and you have the makings of a sibling rivalry that stretched until Margaret’s death in 1541.

Instead of squabbling over who was better at Latin or who had the nicest pony, the royal brother and sister indulged in vicious politicking which descended into their respective kingdoms taking up arms against each other.

Henry outlived his sister by just over five years, but it was long enough to ensure that he won the PR war. Consequently, Margaret Tudor has gone down in the historical records as a silly woman who spent her time buying clothes she couldn’t afford and of being highly promiscuous.

Repugnant of all, Henry accused his sister of writing him begging letters and whingeing about being short of money. What he didn’t mention was that he had deliberately withheld from her the fortune that she had inherited under the terms of their father’s will. In the circumstances, she had every right to complain.

In this passionate act of rehabilitation, Linda Porter argues that Margaret Tudor was a lot more than an airhead who didn’t know where to stop with the diamonds.

From the moment she arrived north, barely into her teens, to marry James IV of Scotland, she developed a subtle but powerful sense of what needed to be done to prevent Scotland from fracturing into warring clans. You have only to know that the people around her were called things such as Archibald the Grim, James the Gross, and Robert Blackadder to soon realise that this was a wild and wuthering place.

The one saving grace in Margaret’s new life north of the border was her husband, King James. Modern alarm bells will ring when it is known that he was 30 and she 13 years old, but the record documents that he seems to have been a genuinely loving and attentive husband.

He also appreciated the subtle power that came with dressing well, and he showered his young wife with expensive furs, silks, and jewels so that she looked as glamorous as any French princess. Readers will recall that Scotland and France were historically bound together in the “Auld Alliance” which, naturally, gave Henry the jitters.

Of more significance, and from a tactical point of view, was that Margaret produced a string of babies in the first few years of her marriage, ensuring the Stuart dynasty’s security for the next generation and beyond. One of her grandchildren became Mary, Queen of Scots.

It was his sister’s fertility that made Henry especially furious. Despite having been married to Katherine of Aragon for seven years, he was still childless, which meant that, should anything happen to him, Margaret would inherit the English throne, quite possibly with James ruling alongside her. For such a competitive man, the thought was unbearable.

This simmering bad feeling came to a head in 1513 at the Battle of Flodden between the English and Scots, which led to the bloody death of James and most of his nobles.

For the rest of her life Margaret found herself in a tenuous position. Her baby son was now crowned James V and she was installed as his Regent. But this arrangement was never going to please ruthless Scottish clansmen, who now vied to see who could dethrone her.

At this point Henry could have stepped in to help his sister. Instead, he took perverse pleasure in making things difficult.

When she announced her intention to divorce her next husband, a rotter called Archibald Douglas who had siphoned off what remained of her money, Henry delivered a condescending lecture on her low moral standards. This was particularly rich given the way that he was going through wives like a hot knife through butter.

Ironically, in the long term, it was Margaret who won this deadly sibling feud. Despite his multiple marriages, Henry failed to establish a secure Tudor bloodline – none of his children produced an heir.

By contrast, Margaret’s great-grandson, ruled Scotland as James VI and, in 1603, on Queen Elizabeth I’s death, was invited south to become James I of England.

Within a year he decreed that he would be known as the King of Great Britain and insisted that Scotland and England would walk together in unity. But as history clearly shows there have been many subsequent attempts to divide. Certainly, the monarchy in Scotland is seen very differently to how it is perceived in England.

Linda Porter has drawn on the latest scholarship and offers an entertaining book that lights up a shadowy and fascinating corner of Tudor history.

– The Thistle and The Rose by Linda Porter is published by Head of Zeus, 400pp

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