The row over statues seems to be dying down, but someone on Facebook posted a picture (left) that illustrates how they have been democratised – Standing Man by Sean Henry in Paddington Basin, a Bloke on the Ground sort of sculpture that Henry specialises in: anonymous, ordinary people without plinths, natural size and at the same level as the viewer.
For contrast I add The Duke of Cambridge by Adrian Jones, the 1907 equestrian sculpture in Whitehall that is so familiar that it is never looked at, representative of the 19th-century statuary that populates our cities: grand, elevated, establishment and not a little oppressive.
The latter sort is being gradually reviewed and sometimes suddenly and violently removed, but the process of democratisation that the review is part of began long ago with the Blokes on the Ground who are slowly and silently replacing them.
On the beach at Swanage I was pleased to see the Punch and Judy show in the same place as it was when my daughter was little, so I stopped to watch it. Punch appeals to small children because he is very, very naughty and triumphs over everybody and comes out on top at the end. His little squeaky voice seals their connection with him.
There is no point in cleaning up his act. A nice Mr Punch would be as attractive as warm ice cream. The Swanage performance has most of the traditional elements: Judy leaves Punch in charge of the baby, baby won’t walk, Punch throws baby downstairs, beats Judy, fights the crocodile, nonsense with the sausages, and so on.
After the show I met Joe Burns, the Professor, (above) and told him how much I enjoyed his show and how I remembered his predecessor, Professor Pete. Joe took over from Pete six years ago after Pete had been on the beach for thirty years. Today’s Mr Punch has a website, a Facebook page and a Twitter feed.
There has been a show on this spot since 1906, though the town council banned it at first because it brought the wrong sort into Swanage. Joe is one of the last three beach performers in the country – there are more Professors who are hired to perform at parties. A Guardian article quoting Joe reported that audiences are getting as badly behaved as Punch and that some adults abuse his bottler and refuse to pay.
Margaret Lambert and Enid Marx had a section on marionettes and glove puppets in English Popular Art (1951), reporting that Mr Punch had changed from one into the other, but they said nothing else about him. In The Unsophisticated Arts (also 1951) Barbara Jones wrote, “One glove puppet remains triumphantly traditional and can still be found at fairs and at the seaside: the Punch and Judy Show. The costumes are commedia del’arte via the English early nineteenth century theatre, and the whole script has hardly changed. Needless to say it is violent and much concerned with death and hanging. Punch and Judy also exhibit the determination of English pantomime to change sex – Punch squeals viciously in a high falsetto, his wife retains the puppet master’s natural bass.”
When I wrote about Art Nouveau ceramics I said that there were few books about these potters, but recently a lavish volume about Adrien Dalpayrat by Etienne Tournier has been published. It’s large format and has wonderful detailed, full-page pictures showing Dalpayrat’s complex, irridescent glazes. Like the previous titles on this subject – Paul Arthur’s French Art Nouveau Ceramics (2015) and M. Lambrechts’ L’Objet sublime: Franse ceramiek 1875-1945 (2016) – Tournier’s book is not cheap. Phaidon’s RRP is £200.
One of the most notable of the figurative potters of the inter-war years was Charles Vyse, whether you judge him by the quality of his work, his lasting popularity or his longevity: he took a studio in Chelsea in 1915 and only finally vacated it in 1959.
The studio potters have little interest in this sort of ceramic sculpture, despite the fact that plenty of sculptors show in pottery fairs nowadays, and despite the fact that Bernard Leach thought that Gwendolen Parnell should be included in accounts of the craft. Yet the demand for Vyse’s ceramics outstrips demand for the stoneware vessels of the period, and even Lucie Rie’s post-war bowls, usually the most expensive studio pottery in auctions.
That is, of course, partly due to rarity. Vyse made about fifty figures from each mould and destroyed the moulds when he retired. A Balloon Woman, the iconic Vyse figure, was sold at Bohnam’s for £1,560 in 2006 and could well fetch ten times that amount now. Elizabeth Fry, a design for Doulton, is offered for $18,000, though considerably less for the uncoloured version, $2,200. The Return of Persephone (pictured above) (a rare classical reference), also made for Doulton and said to have been cast few times, was offered recently for $26,000.