THE ART OF REMEMBERING 20 September to 23 November 2014
THE ART OF REMEMBERING 20 September to 23 November 2014 At Rheged, Penrith. Selection by Hayley Skipper, Curator Arts Development, Forestry Commission, Tom Freshwater, Contemporary Art Programme Manager, The National Trust and James Arnold, Assistant Curator, The Lakeland Arts Trust. Curated by John Stokes
IN T RO DUCTI ON
The Art of Remembering came about following a discussion in 2012, reacting to the rapidly approaching First World War Centenary which has come about this year and has been greeted with events, exhibitions and activities across the country. We wanted to produce an exhibition that would honour the sacrifices of the soldiers who died and those who were injured during the war. However, it was also important for us to take an analytical eye to what has been happening across the country, taking a step back and considering the implications of a nation united in remembering. The theme of memory was important in developing the exhibition. We wanted to examine what it means for such a large group to share in these memories, and to question what the emotional connection to them is. It is clearly not a raw memory, as so few people who lived through the war are still alive. What the artists who have produced work for this exhibition have shown is that the strength of emotion at the time of the war, and the process of memorialisation that started even in the months following the conflict, have all left an indelible mark on Britain and the world. The process of memorialisation appears frequently in the exhibition. In Peter Lewis’ reconstructed drawing 4
room shrine to a fallen soldier, the ‘Memorial Plaque’ given to families as an artefact on which to focus their memory is referenced. In Katie Surridge’s commission Hanging on a Memory a conduit of memory and care for artefacts is suggested through the sourcing and purchasing of countless WW1 medal ribbons that survive to this day. Perhaps it is unsurprising, then, to find through this exhibition that the spirit of memorialisation is still alive. However this exhibition and the nationwide commemoration that it is a part of have both shown the wealth of information and historical record that remains surrounding the war, and the means in which artists and a public at large are able to analyse it and form a personal connection with it. More than this we are seeing the ways in which we have learned from the war and how society has been improved by these lessons. Al Johnson’s work Downed reminds us of the changes in society’s attitudes to women in the last 100 years. It was the First World War that catalysed reform on women’s voting, a key influencing element of which was the role of women in the war effort. Meanwhile Adam Hogarth’s piece Singing Love Songs to the Huns reminds us of the changing attitudes to pacifism. In 2003 two million people marched to protest a war
they disagree with without fear of the profound ostracisation experienced by the Conscientious Objectors during the First World War. This exhibition was made possible thanks to the funding of Arts Council England and the Heritage Lottery Fund whose co-funding have made it possible to work with artists on a national stage. Additionally the excellent selection of artists in this show is thanks to our selection committee of Hayley Skipper, Curator, Arts Development at the Forestry Commission, Tom Freshwater, Contemporary Arts Programme Manager at the National Trust and James Arnold, Assistant Curator at the Lakeland Arts Trust.
John Stokes Exhibition Curator
Convoy 1, Mark Gibbs, mixed materials, 2014 5
JU LI E B A LL
Julie’s work captures the fragility of a moment in time. The combination of paper-thin porcelain and photographic imagery exemplifies the fragility of a memory. Meanwhile, the process of applying the image to the ceramic deteriorates the photographic clarity, rendering the figures and faces in a fuzzy, low-fi appearance. Once applied to the ceramic the photographic image is more enduring and hard wearing. It is unlikely to fade or discolour, impervious to moisture or high temperatures - the things museum curators must block out to ensure photographs such as these are available for generations to come. Ironically, the same process that brings more longevity also removes clarity. Julie travelled to the Lake District to conduct research and find photographs relevant to the local surroundings. She worked with Penrith and Eden Museum and identified several images to work with from their collection. Julie kept a diary of her research which follows here. The Art of Remembering – Penrith Project Diary This diary although brief, forms part of this project for it serves as a means of remembering and will provide an accurate and truthful account of a series of artwork which poses as a directive to 6
the question of reconstructed truth in memorialising. Staying near Ambleside for seven days 2-8 August 2014 2 August Arrived at Skelwith Bridge to rain but beautiful scenery a truly lovely part of the country immediately started using my camera. 3 August I have scoured the local charity shops and antique shops for vintage photographs of people of the area. A shop in Keswick had a stack of vintage photographs but there was no guarantee that the photographs were of local source, so continued using camera to capture scenery and buildings. 5 August I contacted both the Penrith and Lakeland museums to see if they could help me obtain photographs for my work as conscious of days passing too quickly. I arranged to meet the curator at the Penrith Museum on Thursday so looking forward to viewing some archived images of local people reference 1914 -18. 7 August Arrived in Penrith and met Christine at the museu. She kindly provided a list of potential images that may be of use, I selected a few and digital copies were taken of the original photographs:
Recruiting staff 1914-18; Women’s army 1914-18; Hound Trail; Francis Rimmington and 2 Daughters outside Mansion House; Ploughman and horses; Penrith football team 1914; Penrith fireman Managed to get some digital images of some interesting buildings in the town for collage backgrounds and had time to look around and get a real feel for the place. 8 August Took a boat trip to Pooley Bridge, Ullswater and obtained a digital copy of a photograph of a woman, taken in a doorway of a tea-room in the village around the beginning of the 20th century, courtesy of the Proprietor of the Pooley Bridge Inn. 10 August Transferred images from camera, printed them ready to take to studio tomorrow 11 August Printed all of the images onto wet clay however not all were successful due to the condition of the original photograph but I’m pleased that I have sufficient for firing in the Kiln
Photographic image transferred onto wet clay
Women’s Army, Penrith, courtesy of Penrith and Eden museum
14 August All pieces of porcelain have survived the kiln complete with images and are now ready for collaging. Detail from a photograph of the Penrith Football Team, courtesy Penrith and Eden Museum 7
M O R WENNA C AT T
Morwenna Catt’s decorated sandbags form a protective ‘foxhole’ constructed from vintage domestic fabrics, piled on the gallery floor as if on the edge of a trench complex. The decorative patterns blend the imagery of battle with the comfort of home creating an environment at once comforting and unsettling. Is this the softening of the battlefield or the hardening of the home? Morwenna’s work uses her personal connection to the First World War as a starting point; two of her great grandfathers fought in the war and survived. Her research into their experiences has led her to understand more of how the First World War has directly influenced her family history. William Brown, her mother’s grandfather lost his leg at age 18 to an exploding shell. He lived to his 90s but never talked about his experience in the war. Morwenna’s father’s grandfather, David Hunter was awarded the Victoria Cross following a dramatic episode in September 1918 at Moeuvres in France. He and six other men were believed to have been captured when German forces surrounded their position. In fact they remained pinned down and held their ground without food and water for two days, until the allied forces retook the area and found them alive behind
heaps of enemy corpses that had collected as they fought ferociously to defend their position. Leading the visitor towards the sandbag shelter are a number of disproportionately large sweetheart cushions. These keepsakes, normally only a few inches across, loom large over the gallery, with black thread that trails along the floor, while a single, red thread hangs visceral and tender amongst the black. These threads are a recurring theme in Morwenna’s work, threads of a story, trains of thought, or the physical thread that pops in and out of the fabric forming words as it weaves over the material. Here the sweetheart cushions bring to mind the recuperating soldiers who would make these cushions as they convalesced. It is this theme of shelter and recovery and survival that seem strongest in Morwenna’s work. Sitting in her shelter it is easy to consider the contrast between her ancestors David Hunter and William Brown. One decorated, honoured, who was trapped and got out. The other, injured with a long physical recovery but never speaking of what happened, perhaps taking shelter from the past.
Right: Sweethearts (detail), Morwenna Catt, embroidered and vintage fabrics, sandbags, buttons, nylon string, brass, cotton tape, 2014 8
D AW N COLE
Dawn Cole has conducted extensive research into the wartime experience of her great aunt Clarice Spratling, after she found her diary in her parent’s attic some years ago. Clarice was a VAD nurse (voluntary aid detachment) who joined the war effort at the age of 24. Her diary charts a familiar theme in the thoughts and feelings of soldiers and volunteers in the First World War. It shows an initial excitement and eagerness to get away from home for the first time, superseded by profound gloom as the true horror of the war unfolded around her. Dawn’s research took her to Wimereux, where Clarice was posted. Wimereux became the site of a major hospital, and the men who died there were buried in the WGC cemetery. It was here that Dawn found a headstone that had placed on top of it a rubbing from a 1915 shilling. The phrase ‘Take the King’s Shilling’ is well documented, referring to enlistment to the armed forces, dating back to the end of the English Civil War. As well as referring to soldiers coming forward to fight, it also has close associations with impressment, a fact that cannot have escaped soldiers called up by conscription. Right: Tails You Lose, Dawn Cole, heat transfer foil on paper, 2014 10
In her piece Tails You Lose Dawn references the phrase, appropriating the symbolism of the floral wreath, commonly laid in remembrance ceremonies. Here the flowers are replaced with individually printed shillings made from heat transfer foil and paper. The ironic value of a life attributed to the shilling has a symmetrical quality when Clarice Spratling’s experience is compared to that of a new solider: ‘By return of post the answer came. Would we send on our certificates, as Mrs Vaughan Johnson would have to see them before sending to Headquarters saying we were fit for ‘nursing wounded!’ This we did! As quickly as possible. A few days later we heard we had been accepted, would we send the sum of 1/- to the Commandant for our badges and any little expenses during our correspondence’ Diary of Clarice Spratling, Sept 1915 Dawn observes ‘Clarice, on signing up to nurse during the war was asked to send a shilling, a contrast to the men who were given one. One to fight, one to save’.
JÉ RÉ ME CROW
Jéréme Crow found a relationship with the First World War by accident. However, his paintings allude to a story and a life that was itself affected by the war only on the surface. A diary belonging to his great uncle Edwin William Erlam had lain hidden in a secret compartment of a piece of furniture, possibly since it was completed in 1918. Edwin had kept the diary throughout that year; he had been fourteen years old. Jéréme found it when he inherited the furniture. Confronted with this unexpected window into the childhood of his great uncle Jéréme felt compelled to try and see him in a different light, as a boy of fourteen, rather than ‘Uncle Teddy’, a figure fixed in Jéréme’s mind’s eye as an older man at the end of his life. Jéréme’s research into his great uncle has been empirical rather than theoretical, undertaken through actions and experiences, seeing, feeling and touching. He has visited the house on Primrose Hill, London that was home to Edwin as he was writing his diary. It was important to Jéréme to visit the locations in the diary in person, to absorb a sense of space and to imagine the range of possible narratives that link the sporadic and often cryptic entries in the young man’s diary. Whilst visiting, Jéréme has collected 12
artefacts and materials that form the basis of a series of still lifes painted in his studio. The still lifes elaborate on the diary entries and bring together collections of objects that seem disparate, and hard to reconcile together. The objects are loaded with meanings not necessarily discernible to the viewer, who is perhaps left with the feeling of having glimpsed the collected ephemera of deceased relative’s possessions; the flotsam and jetsam left in the wake of a person’s life. The story of Edwin William Erlam’s life is now in the possession of his nephews. Edwin never had children. Like his father before him, he was a chauffeur and was employed by a family of Jewish refugees from Germany. During the Second World War Edwin was a dispatch driver for the Auxiliary Fire and Ambulance Service, while his wife Ida was an ambulance driver. They were bombed out of their home three times during the war and their employer provided them with a number of items of furnishings; a barometer, a clock, paintings - these gifts were passed down to his nephews following his death. Objects and their hidden meanings are important in these paintings. So is the process of finding these artefacts, and how they attain significance.
The Diary of Edwin William Erlam, 1918, artefact found by the artist
Terrible Thunder Storm, House in Primrose Hill Struck by Lightning, Jéréme Crow, mixed media, 2014
Terrible Thunder Storm, House in Primrose Hill Struck by Lightning, Jéréme Crow, still from video, 2014 13
M ARK G I B B S
Marks Gibb’s collection of ‘Memory Vessels’, ceramics and meticulously constructed model ships represent, a new direction for the artist. His research into the First World War has been extensive, with its main focus on the naval battles of the First World War.
of explosive shells, a visual pun mirrored by the presence of seashells in many of the pieces. The seashells share a visual similarity to the crackled pearlescent glazes on the pots and they are themselves both a vessel and armour for their original occupants.
Mark’s research has led to a crosspollination of ideas between the various artworks. They all pull from a collective pool of ideas whose loose associations build up, layer upon layer in the work, motifs that interrelate and balance against one another.
Some of the ceramic pieces feature designs inspired by Dazzle Camouflage. The striking geometric patterns were used on ships during the First World War. The patterns were designed to make it more difficult to estimate the speed and heading of a ship, causing enemies difficulty when moving to intercept or fire upon it. It was not intended to hide the ship, but at long range it would be difficult to identify its class.
Mark’s intricately modelled battleships are each modelled on real vessels. The largest is the H.M.S Dreadnought. She was a revolutionary craft that changed the face of naval warfare almost overnight, instantly casting existing ships into obsolescence. He is interested in the inevitability of every weapon’s obsolescence, the pathos of the arms race. In Mark’s sculpture the ship sits atop a tin that seems to be buckling under its weight and has ruptured along its top, perhaps a reference to Dreadnoughts only real military action, the ramming of German U-Boat SM U-29. This was the only known sinking of a U-Boat by a battleship. Mark’s ceramics seem to be the axis around which the rest of the work turns. Their tall, slender shape is reminiscent 14
The ceramic vessels have been made by Mark, who is working in ceramic for the first time. He is using a technique called ‘Raku’ where the pot is removed from the kiln whilst still at an incredibly high temperature, and is placed into a ‘reduction chamber’, normally a metal tin filled with combustible materials such as sawdust or straw. This is a western variation on an ancient Japanese technique. This creates a blackened, carbonised look on the surface of the ceramic, and any glaze applied to the pot will crackle with deep contrasting black lines behind it.
The visual imagery of smoke and fire and the scorched surface of the finished pot stirs images of violent explosions such as the catastrophic blast that destroyed the H.M.S Queen Mary during the battle of Jutland, the largest sea battle of the First World War. She was hit twice by the German ship Derffinger causing her magazines to explode, killing 1.266 crew and leaving just 9 survivors. This event is alluded to by Mark in his sculpture Jutland Memorial. Here flowers play an important role and, as with a number of other sculptures Mark has created, they are chosen based on the seasonal flowering in England at the time of year of a particular battle. In this piece the flowers seem suspended in the air like flotsam, or perhaps thrown in the air and frozen in space at the moment of a massive explosion. The flowers are rich with possible meanings - are they for the homesick sailors, dreaming of flowering meadows in the English countryside? Is it the undoing of pastoral Britain at this turning point in history? Or perhaps we are looking at the impermanence and fragility of life, more vulnerable than ever in a time of war.
Summer of 1914, Mark Gibbs, mixed media, 2014
Mark would like to thank ceramicist Dave Norman for his technical support and advice. Jutland Memorial, Mark Gibbs, mixed media, 2014
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AD A M HO G A RT H
‘I’ve seen hell upon this earth The next will be chemical but they will never learn’. 1 The title of Adam Hogarth’s work is taken from a political postcard (pictured right) produced during the First World War (1914-18). Hogarth’s work, Singing Love Songs to the Huns borrows the final line from this postcard and recreates the text using black silk carnations. Singing Love Songs to the Huns references the use of flowers in funerary tributes as a method of commemorating Conscientious Objectors (COs) of the First World War. A piece of military propaganda, this postcard scorns the pacifist actions of COs exercised during WWI. COs, or ‘conchies’ as they were often condescendingly labelled, were men who actively refused to fight in the war on grounds of freedom of thought, religion or conscience. The postcard shows three terrified men singing from music books (the song is You Made Me Love You - a popular song published in 1913) before the rapidly approaching German army. Their knocking knees and gasping faces imply a physical inability to fight, as well as a moral objection, and these images 1
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perpetrated negative public opinions that COs were cowardly and shirked their responsibilities to their country. Within society, COs faced punishment including threatened death sentences, prison sentences and hard labour. Despite the role of the COs often being overlooked historically, these men left a lasting legacy, the freedom to voice unpopular beliefs and to challenge the decisions that lead to conflict and war. Hogarth’s work honours the influence of the COs and the impact these men had upon contemporary culture. In our current society people are able to publicly protest war and denounce the actions of governments leading countries into conflict. It is in part due to the actions of the COs that protest and resistance are now an integral part of the contemporary political landscape. Hogarth said of Singing Love Songs to the Huns: ‘I want the work to reflect the massive loss of life during WWI and conversation around peaceful resolutions to modern conflicts’. The artist’s decision to commemorate the actions of the COs in a floral tribute commends peaceful attitudes to conflict whilst also remembering the loss of sixteen million lives during WWI. Flowers by nature are ephemeral and
Thom Yorke, Jonny Greenwood, Colin Greenwood, Phil Selway and Ed O’Brien, Harry Patch (In Memory Of), Radiohead, 2009
impermanent, decaying and fading over time. Although COs faced derision, their actions have not faded into history. The single coloured flower positioned in Hogarth’s work can represent one individual, a spark or an idea prior to widespread acceptance. It is their brave resistance and principal actions that have cemented our current ability to protest and resist government policies concerning war. Hogarth’s decision to commemorate the COs demonstrates the power that these brave men have had upon realising a freedom of opinion and liberty to protest.
WW1 propaganda postcard by Archibald English, c1916
Hogarth’s work examines language and notions of auto destruction, in particular the way that language destroys itself, eroding and progressing over time. The derogatory words of the postcard have been immortalised in Hogarth’s work, yet subverted as a funerary tribute to the bravery of the COs rather than a derision. Charlotte Flint
Charlotte Flint is a writer currently based in London having recently completed a Master’s degree in the History of Design at the Royal College of Art and the Victoria & Albert Museum. She has been the editor-in-chief of Unmaking Things an online studio dedicated to visual and material culture since 2013. Singing Love Songs to the Huns, Adam Hogarth, Silk flowers, foam board and wood, 2014 17
AL JO HN SO N
Al Johnson’s dramatic sculpture Downed would appear to have crashed through the skylight of the gallery into the floor. Its wings are wilted and flightless, and its nose buried in the ground. Johnson comments that the piece ‘references the cultural shifts in the perception of women, moving from domestic sphere to munitions factory’. Women were vital in the production of armaments, the provision of food and the care and treatment of wounded soldiers. Over 700,000 women took up roles in munitions factories during the war, which was often dangerous work. The women’s rights movement had been dramatically building in the run up to the war, with the Suffragettes exposed to violent recriminations and imprisonment. Nonetheless out of patriotism Suffragette leader Emmeline Pankhurst instructed the members of the movement to join the war effort, supporting the government in every way to help the Commonwealth prevail, this caused a split in the movement. Al is interested in the symbolism of the aircraft, a ‘bird of freedom’, as she puts it, being recreated as a machine of war. Here the plane is covered in soft textiles and in a striking red colour with its various symbolisms in relation to the female gender. It is a hybrid, 18
with the shape of the war machine but constructed from wood and soft fabrics. The combination of materials is functionless despite its form. The construction of the sculpture is based on original designs for the Sopwith Pup aircraft, a British biplane in service with The Royal Flying Corps and the Royal Naval Air Service from 1916. Its official name was the Sopwith Scout, however it was named Pup by its pilots in comparison to the larger Sopwith 1/2 Strutter. Being the smaller of the two classes it was given this affectionate nickname.
Plans for the Sopwith Pup Biplane, drawn and traced in 1992 by S.J.Simpkin
Archive photograph of a downed biplane used by the artist for reference creating the piece
AL Johnson’s preparatory sketches for Downed
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PE T E R LEWI S
Peter Lewis’ installation Shrine uses a series of props that recreate the drawing room of a bereaved family, at an indeterminate time following the First World War. The contrast between domestic and military appears more than once in this exhibition. It is a difficult fact to grasp that the Western Front was uncannily close to home. Soldiers in the trenches would often have trappings of home or exotic treats available to them, a little piece of home that only underlined the irony of their plight. However here Peter is keen to examine the permanent influence of the war on the family home, the encroachment of the military onto the domestic. Families who lost loved ones in the Great War were presented with Memorial Plaques from the King. These became known as Dead Man’s Pennies. These copper artefacts were produced in armament factories, such as The Royal Arsenal, Woolwich. Peter is interested in this irony, that the weapon and the memorial can come from the same place. Mass production of the Memorial Plaques took place from the years following WW1 until the early 1930s as commemorations for those who died in war. In total some 1,355,000 were made. Repetition and symbolism for the vast numbers of soldiers and civilians 20
killed in the Great War is a recurrent theme in its memorialisation. From the millions of paper poppies produced each year, to the gravestones in military ceremonies that seem to stretch out with geometric precision in every direction. This repetition is a key motif in Peter’s mirror box piece Distant Dreams. In this artwork the viewer is encouraged to peek through a small viewing slit and in doing so, sees a small diorama constructed within repeat endlessly in all directions. Peter’s research took him to the Museum of the Manchester Regiment in Ashton-under-Lyme. Here he was able to view their collection of over 100 Memorial Plaques. Looking through the rows of artefacts neatly preserved in drawers Peter was struck by how young so many of the soldiers were. In particular he was struck by Frederick Thorley Finucane, a young soldier who enlisted in Asthon-under-Lyme at the age of 15. He was sent to Egypt and served in Cairo. His letters home showed that he enjoyed serving in the battalion, and seeing the Pyramids. He was awarded three medals, the 1914-15 star, British War Medal and Allied Victory Medal. Fred died on 27 November 1914 of dysentery. Peter has commemorated Fred’s life in his installation by including
his photograph, but this is also a commemoration for all the young soldiers who died in the war. It is also a reminder of the families left behind, keeping the memory of their loved ones alive through photographs, keepsakes and in many cases the Memorial Plaque. The name of Peter’s piece, Shrine, suggests a vigil being kept, but its domestic nature also suggests that grief is something that we live with throughout our lives.
Frederick Thorley Finucane photograph courtesy of The Museum of the Manchester Regiment, digitally restored by Peter Lewis.,
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S U S A N P ETTI C R E W
Susan Petticrew’s large scale pencil drawing of Scapa Flow in Orkney is made in the tradition of war artists. The drawing refers to the sinking of the Vanguard, HMS Royal Oak whose entire upturned hull is still visible on the seabed, the blockship SS Collingdoc and the SMS Baden, the German fleet’s flagship during WWI. Susan has a personal connection to Scapa Flow, her father who served in the Navy was positioned there during the Second World War. Susan has prepared a brief summary of the most notable events of the naval history of this area: Notable events at Scapa Flow during WWI and WWII Scapa Flow in Orkney has a long and dramatic history serving as the base for the Royal Navy during both world wars. It is a body of water, 120 square miles in size and surrounded by islands and yet deep enough for large ships to anchor there. Its position made it an ideal base, particularly as it helped to contain the German Navy in their bases on the Baltic coast. It was believed to be reasonably safe from attack, particularly as old ships known as ‘blockships’ were sunk at strategic points in the waterways making it virtually impossible for enemy ships to penetrate the area. One of the great events of WW1 was 22
the deliberate scuttling of German warships here. Under the armistice the Germans had to surrender virtually their entire surface fleet and all their U boats and aeroplanes. The German fleet was interned at Scapa Flow from November 1918 while peace talks were being carried out. Commander Rear Admiral Ludwig von Reuter, believing peace talks had broken down, decided to sink the entire Navy. This was done in the morning of the 21 June 1919. Local schoolchildren from Stromness who were taken out that day to see the fleet accidently watched it being scuttled. Earlier in the war before midnight on 9 July 1917 at Scapa Flow, HMS Vanguard suffered an explosion, probably caused by an unnoticed fire heating cordite. She sank almost instantly, killing an estimated 804 men; there were only two survivors, one of whom subsequently died of his injuries. Like the Royal Oak which sank during WWII, the site is now a designated war grave. Shortly afterwards the Royal Navy sent divers to the wreck to recover bodies, sensitive material and look for evidence to explain the explosion (an act of sabotage was feared). One of the divers later recalled that the naval officers insisted that the dead sailors were brought up to the surface face first.
Some of the most significant naval action of World War II began in Scapa Flow. The hunt for the German battleship Bismarck began from here in 1941, as did aircraft carrier raids against its sister ship the Tirpitz. This was also the base for the Arctic Convoy escort ships that sailed to northern Russia with vital war supplies for the Soviet Union. 13/14 October 1939 when the battleship HMS Royal Oak was sunk at anchor, by torpedoes fired by a German submarine U-47, and 834 men lost their lives. The German submarine had entered through Kirk Sound, on the eastern side of Scapa Flow, through gaps opened after tides had moved the blockships which had sealed it in the previous war. Work began immediately to strengthen the eastern defences with blockships and the construction of the Churchill Barriers.
Block ships today - the partially submerged ships formed a barrier to block out enemy vessels. Photograph by Susan Petticrew, 2004
Susan Petticrew
Sources: http:/www.scapaflowwrecks.com http:/www.rememberingscotlandatwar.org.uk http://www.gwpda.org HMS Rodney at the Scapa Flow in 1940, photograph from the artist’s father’s archive
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AN N A F C SM IT H
This work explores the ceremonial form of remembrance. It juxtaposes the collective actions of contemporary Remembrance Sundays with archival footage from WW1, the footage from the two eras mirror one another, in the form and feel of what is on screen. The work places the past in the exact same moment as the present, creating a sense of concurrence while at the same time also exposing the rift created by the passage of 100 years. This rift is revealed in the contrast between the upbeat attitude of the men marching to war with the sombre march of the memorial attendants, and the fidgeting children of the one minute silence with the horror of the battlefield. The Remembrance Sunday ceremony has evolved since the very first Armistice day, from very early triumphalism to sombre commemoration, and has morphed from a mass national observance to something more discreet and marginalised and back again as connection to the past, current wars and interest in history has effected the nation and its attitudes. As with all ritual, Remembrance Sunday is not a stagnant tradition and its meaning and significance is different today to 100 years ago, and will change again in the coming century. This film captures the mode and atmosphere of Remembrance in the 2010s, becoming a point of 24
historical interest itself for future generations. Anna FC Smith Order of archival footage; • Views of volunteer soldiers marching through France on their way to the front line. This includes Hampshires, presumed to be of 2nd Battalion, of 88th Brigade and Royal Welch Fusiliers. Footage from June and July 1916. • British soldiers root marching through English country lane. • Women marching in support of the war effort 21 July 1915. The following is taken from Wilfred Owen Archive notes on the footage; ‘WOMEN’S MARCH THROUGH LONDON: A vast procession of women headed by Mrs Pankhurst, march through London to show the Minister of Munitions their willingness to help in any war service. Filmed from a rooftop, the procession is seen walking past. The women carry banners containing such slogans as Mobilise Brains Energy of Women and Three cheers for our gallant soldiers The complete issue apparently contains an item showing the culmination of the march, with the ladies meeting with Lloyd George, but nothing of it survives on this print London.’ • Men waiting at the camps in France
before heading to the frontline. • Service is held in France for the servicemen waiting to go to the front. • Soldiers throwing earth in a mass burial. • Soldiers ‘going over the top’. Some of this footage is possibly from training for going over the top because of the position of the camera. Some footage was filmed at Martinpuich Sept. 1916. • Bodies at Verdun and burial party with British soldiers gathering up the dead for burial, near Montauban and Carnoy. Burial party could be 12th Middlesex (18th Division). Carnoy France. Somme. July 1916. • Soldiers presenting to Douglas Hague, American soldiers saluting and volunteer soldiers training in park. Contemporary footage used with thanks to Gillian A. Lawson, Mick Byrne and Michael Gant. Remembrance Sunday 2013, Standish, Wigan. Filmed by Mick Byrne Remembrance Sunday 2013. Hartlepool Headland. Filmed by Michael Gant. Remembrance Day Service 2012. Preston, Lancashire. Filmed by Gillian A. Lawson, Archivist for the Preston Historical Society. Historical footage used with thanks to the Prelinger Archives, and The Imperial War Museum through The Wilfred Owen Collection. Many of the items of archival footage are from The First World War Poetry Digital Archive, University of Oxford (www.oucs.ox.ac.uk/ww1lit) © The Imperial War Museum’
Above and left: stills from We Come Together to Recall, Anna FC Smith, digital video, 5.55min (loop), 2014
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HE LE N SNELL
Helen Snell’s triptych Fighting Fit is a series of paper cuts that show young men being prodded and probed in preparation for being sent out to war. Snell is interested in the irony of the Army and Navy medical, the process of making sure that men are in perfect health before being sent out to war. Snell has focussed on three specific tests, a hearing test, a sight test and a throat examination. The symbolism of the three wise monkeys who ‘see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil’ is a natural comparison for the viewer to make. However here the subjects of the artworks have their eyes, mouths and ears tested to ensure they are wide open. The tragic irony of the medical, and these young men being tested as a ‘blank canvas’ ready to send to war is interesting to Helen. The men are being assessed for their readiness to be sent out and ‘pock marked, punctured and splintered by missiles or to administer the same fate to the enemy’ says Helen as she describes each piece in her own words: ‘Fighting Fit - Hearing Test - is inspired by the lives of submariners and gunners who often suffered from perforated ear drums and deafness as a result of explosions and pressure changes. Water or blood can be seem to be 26
emanating from one of the submariners ears, indicating the havoc and carnage that awaits. In Fighting Fit - Weeping Wound, cascades of blood and water intermingle and tumble down and around the new recruit who is having his tonsils inspected. The medic’s inspection light becomes a weapon in itself. In Fighting Fit - sight test, the future pilot is locked into a surreal piece of apparatus (elements of which taken from WW2 archive photographs) to test his visual acuity and to keep his gaze away from the proliferation of missiles at the edge of his peripheral vision. Smoke trails are tainted with blood and chemicals. Red blood mixes with blue sea water, blue blood / high rank mixes with red blood /the common man or woman (death does not distinguish class and seniority). Red blood as life, full of oxygen, blue blood as death, asphyxiated.’
Sketch for Fighting Fit: Weeping Wound, Helen Snell, Graphite on Paper, 2012
A soldier undergoing a medical examination, courtesy of the National Museum of the Royal Navy 27
KAT I E SU RRI D GE
Katie’s piece Hanging on Memories suspends First World War Medal ribbons several feet above the gallery floor. The ribbons are sewn together to form one long stretch that passes through large steel loops, propping it up at 10 points along its length. On first impressions the viewer may be struck by the strength and weight of the supporting structure. The steel loops are fixed to thick rods that are themselves welded to segments of rolled steel joist. One is compelled to consider if the robust engineering is there to hold up an excessive weight of memory and responsibility of these medals. Or is it there to keep it anchored to the ground? Are these memories becoming too thin and rarified to endure without a substantial anchor? For Katie the process of sourcing the medal ribbons is as much an important part of the piece as its physical presence. She says ‘I find it interesting that we can now purchase whatever we want, whenever we want without leaving our homes. Objects that were once important in the war effort, memorabilia or awards are now sold like everyday goods on a global internet website. Here WW1 items are given a monetary value, as well as a historic one, dependant on demand.’
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Katie’s work deals with the magnitude of numbers involved in the war, both in terms of soldiers fighting and awarded and those who died, through the repetitive process of finding, buying and using each ribbon. This is documented in the invoices of sale which are included with the piece, hung in a grid formation reminiscent of the regimented layout of military cemeteries. Each transaction represents a soldier who was awarded a medal, a family who kept it and one hundred years of its passing from person to person - forming a conduit from the First World War to the exhibition.
Right: Hanging on Memories, Katie Surridge, WW1 medal ribbons, steel rods, RSJ, 2014
Š Rheged 2014 All images copyrighted the artists except where provided by the courtesy of individuals or institutions where copyright lies with them. Catalogue text by John Stokes except where indicated otherwise. Gallery at Rheged: Arts Manager: John Stokes Gallery Supervisor: Claire Harrison Gallery Assistant: Sarah Mayhew Email: gallery@rheged.com Phone: 01768 860033
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