Exhibition of the week Rembrandt: Britain’s Discovery of the Master
Scottish National Gallery, Edinburgh (0131-624 6200, www.nationalgalleries.org). Until 14 October
Britain has always nurtured a “special enthusiasm” for Rembrandt, said Rachel CampbellJohnston in The Times. Although the Dutch master was little-known on these shores in his lifetime, the “trickle” of paintings that began to arrive here after his death in 1669 “aroused a keen interest”. Until this point, art in this country had tended towards rigid classicism, and the boldness of Rembrandt’s work – his evocation “not just of physical, but of emotional reality” – struck British viewers as “excitingly fresh”. By the mid-18th century, British collectors had become gripped by “Rembrandt mania”, and his popularity has never waned; even today, his art is a “failsafe crowd-puller”. This new exhibition explores Rembrandt’s “particular significance” to our nation, tracing our attitudes to his work and evaluating its impact on this country’s art from the 17th century to the present day. The show brings together about 20 of Rembrandt’s finest paintings alongside work by a diverse range of British artists indebted to him, from William Hogarth and Henry Raeburn to Frank Auerbach and Leon Kossoff.
There are some “stunning” Rembrandts here, said Jonathan Jones in The Guardian. A portrait of an elderly man painted shortly before the artist’s death presents a “florid, unhealthy” bon vivant seemingly at death’s door, while The Mill (c.1645) – Rembrandt’s “greatest landscape” – is an “incomparably atmospheric” vision of a Dutch windmill “catching the last rays of the Sun on its sails under black clouds”. As for the British works, they do not impress. The nadir comes with a “glib postmodernist” reworking of a (possible) Rembrandt self-portrait by Glenn Brown, which has no place next to “some of the most profound works of art ever created”.
The exhibition begins with a disappointingly “motley assortment” of imitations and works of disputed authorship, said Alastair Sooke in The Daily Telegraph. Even some of the genuine Rembrandts are lacking: portraits of a Norwich-based Dutch minister and his wife are “thematically on point, but hardly thrilling”. Nevertheless, the show picks up with some “marvellous pictures”, including Girl at a Window (1645) – so lifelike that it supposedly “used to deceive passers-by” into thinking it was the real thing. There’s also a “fascinating” section devoted to Joshua Reynolds, who publicly decried Rembrandt’s work but “keenly collected him”, even painting over some of his pictures in order to “correct” them. It’s far from perfect, but this intriguing show offers many rewarding moments.
Grogan’s Companion to Drink
by Peter Grogan, 2010 (Ebury £25). A wise, witty, frequently hilarious trawl through the wonderful world of alcohol by the antiquarian book dealer Peter Grogan. Featuring everything from crisp analysis of the major (and minor) wine regions, to musings on the horrors of alcopops and delights of bath time lychee martinis.
Lickerish Limericks
by Cyril Ray, 1979 (out of print). My late father was an inveterate limerick writer who considered a dirty mind to be a perpetual feast. He wrote and edited dozens of award-winning books on wine, but was proudest of this
slim volume, featuring his filthy, drink-related rhymes (the cleanest thereof) alongside saucy cartoons by Charles Mozley.
Drinks: Unravelling the Mysteries of Flavour and Aroma in Drink
by Tony Conigliaro, 2012 (Ebury £25). Conigliaro is the unrivalled maestro of mixology, and nobody knows more about the history, science and construction of cocktails than he. I wish I had but one-tenth his knowledge and creativity. This thoughtful book is essential reading for cocktail lovers.
to know what the “Intelligent Thinking Man (as opposed to the ghastly New Briton who reads The Sunday Times)” is drinking, then this is for you. Outrageously forthright, ridiculously opinionated and gorgeously written, it stands constant rereading.
The Wine Diet by Roger Corder, 2007 (Sphere £10.99). Whenever I fear my wine habit is doing me irreparable damage, I read a reassuring passage of this fine tome (by a professor of experimental therapeutics, no less). Any book that tells me I can drink red wine every day and enjoy a longer, healthier life gets my vote.