Showing posts with label education. Show all posts
Showing posts with label education. Show all posts

Monday, January 23, 2012

The Great Exhibition and its Educational Legacy

Illustration: Arcade from the oak screen work of stalls in the Choir at Winchester Cathedral.

The Great Exhibition of 1851 was the first international trade exhibition of its kind, certainly as far as scale and scope were concerned. It proved to be both a financial and public success, if not an entirely critical one. However, the Exhibition also released a number of unexpected aspirations, creating an atmosphere across much of Britain and Ireland that was to long outlast its physical nature. This took the form of a heightened and sustained interest in the educative aspect of the Exhibition, the expansion of knowledge, both historical and contemporary, that went hand in hand with the Exhibition itself and when the Exhibition did finally close, it continued through the 1850s and beyond,  interest actually growing, rather than dispersing.

It is perhaps one of the great unforeseen benefits of the Great Exhibition that although its more obvious legacy can be seen in the founding of some of the great institutions of London such as the Museum of South Kensington, which later became the Victoria and Albert Museum, many towns and cities across Britain that had any conceivable connection with industry and trade, also felt the aspirational need for an institution and through that a connectedness to the larger contemporary world, in some cases for the first time. Institutions were organised and founded, some of a directly practical nature, others less so. However, these institutions were often focused venues for the leading ideas and beliefs of the contemporary industrial world. Practical classes were held in anything from fine art to mechanics, often depending on the industry of the town, and interestingly many institutes were founded with the intention of also running classes for women, even though many of these were initially domestically textile based rather than art or science based.

Illustration: Cornice design from the pedestal of Trajan's Column in Rome.

Institutes were also great venues for educational lectures and these were run by both national and local experts, critics and enthusiastic amateurs. The wealth of subject matter was admittedly eclectic, but at the same time informative, ranging from such titles as: The Manufacture of Iron; On the Kings and Courts of the Eighteenth Century; On the Application of Electricity to the Arts; On the Physiology of the Senses; Assyria, and the Buried Cities of Assyria and On the Advantages of Mechanics' Institutes in Cultivating the Mind. That many of these lectures were held at institutes in relatively small towns, not just the major ones, and often far from the capital, shows how the initial enthusiasm had spread from the original Great Exhibition.

 Illustration: Design from the font in Cormac's Castle in Ireland.

Although there was much debate during the immediate aftermath of the euphoria set by the Great Exhibition, particularly as to the low self-esteem felt by critics of British manufacturing and design, there was in contrast a real ground-swell of positive enthusiasm for knowledge, both of the contemporary and historical world. To be fair some of this enthusiasm was aimed by the educated at what was considered the uneducated or minimally so, those that belonged to the large working majority which included both blue and white collar workers. There was also a certain reluctance on the part of audiences as the low turn outs for lecture series proved. Many institutes complained of a consistent lack of enthusiasm for their public lectures while their practical classes were always full. However, lectures tended to be very much a voluntary aspect of the institutions work, more so than the practical classes, even though there was a widespread determination in nineteenth century Britain that education should be seen as both a moral duty by the educator and a moral responsibility by the receiver, therefore the betterment of both the individual and the community was seen in some respects as the delayed remit of the Great Exhibition.

 Illustration: Diaper design from the Alhambra in Spain.

Venues for the discussion and promotion of aspects of the historical and contemporary world were not limited to Britain and Ireland. Enthusiasm was just as apparent in the various colonies and dominions that made up the British Empire many of whom had taken part in the Great Exhibition and wished to build on that initial participation, while also making perceived and necessary connections with Britain. The United States was also an enthusiastic participator in the positive aspects engendered by the Exhibition and there was a genuine interest in forging practical and intellectual links between institutes and organisations on both sides of the Atlantic.

As far as design and decorative criticism was concerned, the enthusiasm across Britain for education, often through the practical application of the town institute in whatever form seemed necessary for each individual case, did not by itself spread the interest in design and decoration history and its potential use in the contemporary world. However, the positive atmosphere created by both the Great Exhibition itself and the sustained enthusiasm after its closure, allowed for the continuation and expansion of detailed examinations of the world of design and decoration on a much wider scale and on a much more serious level than had been achieved before. 

 Illustration: The pulpit from Siena Cathedral in Italy.

By physically encouraging the involvement of the nation through the use of practical classes and topical lectures in so many venues across the country, a relatively new phenomenon had occurred, the encouragement of the ordinary individual to intellectually invest in the major contemporary industries of the day, as well as that of art, science and history, subjects that had been limited in previous generations to the privately educated aristocracy. Although many who turned up at institutes in the major cities and towns across the country were to remain locked within the tight boundaries set out by Britain's stifling class system, a system still very much alive today, they still provided a valuable and voluntary self-education facility, a means of providing a vehicle for the individual to discover their past, their present and their future worlds through the opportunity of education. 

Education can often be seen as the lifeblood of self-empowerment, a means of breaking out of limited options or expectations, a way of understanding and handling the world as it really is and not as others would have us see it. Although this was often far from the end purpose perceived in the numerous lectures and classes promoted throughout the latter half of the nineteenth century and into the twentieth, it was also an inevitable outcome in the promotion of self-education and self-discovery, which in some respects was the great legacy of the Great Exhibition.

Further reading links:


Monday, January 9, 2012

Ann Macbeth and the Glasgow Embroidery Style

Illustration: Front cover of Ann Macbeth and the Glasgow Embroidery Style.

A new year and a new ebook from The Textile Blog. 

This particular title explores the embroidery style and teaching methods of one of the most important members of embroidery craft in Europe of the twentieth century and certainly the most important in Glasgow. Ann Macbeth ran the embroidery department at the Glasgow School of Art from the departure of the former head Jessie Newbery in 1908 until 1920 when she in turn departed, being replaced by Ann Knox Arthur. 

Macbeth firmly believed in the economic and creative empowerment of women and therefore the education of girls in practical independence as well as self-belief through individual creativity was always a main concern of hers. She firmly believed that the craft of embroidery which was seeing a contemporary rejuvenation under the guidance of the Glasgow School of Art, could be fostered to both direct and sustain an independent lifestyle for women.


Illustration: Sample pages from Ann Macbeth and the Glasgow Embroidery Style.


Ann Macbeth and the Glasgow Embroidery Style covers both her own personal and individual creative work as well as that of her wider educational remit, both of which were equally important in their own way towards the history of twentieth century embroidery and craft. Macbeth was a designer that was very much part of what was known as the Glasgow Style which came to prominence in the early twentieth century. She was a name that was known well in both Scotland and Europe for her contemporary view of embroidery, a craft that was often seen as being more attached to its own traditions than that of the modern. However, it is perhaps her incorporation of contemporary embroidery within the education system, as well as the creative freedom that went hand in hand with the modern, that is perhaps one of her most important legacies. 

Her innate belief in the natural independence of women, along with her equally firm belief in the creative ability of every individual is perhaps a contribution to the world of embroidery and of craft, which is still very with us today.

Illustration: Sample pages from Ann Macbeth and the Galsgow Embroidery Style.

Chapter headings include: Embroidery Through Education, Educational Needlecraft 1911, Ecclesiastical Embroideries and Macbeth as Designer. The book has 50 pages and 31 illustrations in a variety of colour and black and white.

Ann Macbeth and the Glasgow Embroidery Style, along with previous titles: Pugin the Pattern Designer, Nature and Surface Pattern and Islamic Decoration and Ornament can all be purchased from the Ebooks page or by clicking directly on any of the book titles mentioned anywhere in this article, or pressing on one of the book covers on the right hand side of the blog.

I hope that you enjoy the book as I begin to start planning the next one.

Friday, December 16, 2011

Educational Courts at the Crystal Palace

Illustration: A Handbook for the Medieval Court by Matthew Digby Wyatt and John Burley Waring, 1854.

After the Great Exhibition of 1851, it was felt that the popularity of the event, including the exhibition building itself, should be continued in some form. It was eventually decided to re-erect the building in a different format at Sydenham. The building itself, popularly known as the Crystal Palace, was officially named as such and became a strange combination of leisure and educational venue. A number of 'courts' were set up within the building. These courts were to largely take on an educational format, whereby decorative historic styles would be represented. Therefore courts were designated as Egyptian, Greek, Roman, Alhambra, Assyrian, Byzantine, Medieval, Renaissance, Italian and Pompeian. There were also courts for a range of diverse near contemporary and contemporary subjects such as fine art, sculpture and music. However, it was the historically themed courts that particularly caught the imagination. 

When the newly refurbished Crystal Palace reopened in 1854, it was still a period in British history whereby few of the population had ever been outside of the confines of the nation. Therefore, exotic appearing courts, although mostly constructed from plaster, giving an appearance of historical or geographical locations, must have appeared to many, to be bringing far flung locations of the world to their own near doorstep. 

Illustration: Medieval Court at the Crystal Palace, 1854.

Guidebooks were produced for each court written by a range of experts including Samuel Phillips, Philip Henry Delamotte, John Burley Waring, George Scharf Jnr, Austin Henry Layard, J Gardner Wilkinson, Owen Jones and Matthew Digby Wyatt. Wyatt was involved with four of the guides, two of which are illustrated in this article. The Byzantine and Romanesque Court and The Medieval Court, both co-written with John Burley Waring were perhaps not the weighty tomes that some might have preferred, but as they were aimed at a very broad cross-section of the general public, they were very popular.

The guides gave a good general introduction of the period and style of each court, concentrating on the architectural, fine and decorative art of the era. They also paid heed to what was actually included within each court, all of which were plaster copies of originals. In the case of the Medieval Court for example, it might well have caused a certain amount of confusion as decorative styles from both England and various parts of Europe were all placed within the confines of the court. However, most visitors seemed to find it both entertaining and educational, which no doubt was the purpose of the organisers.

Illustration: A Handbook to the Byzantine Court by Matthew Digby Wyatt and John Burley Waring, 1854.

Praise should go to Owen Jones himself who was intimately involved in the construction of many of the courts. Jones tried to achieve as close a resemblance to the originals as was possible. However, obviously some courts were going to be more exact than others. The Alhambra Court for example, was particularly praised for its superb decorative details. This would no doubt have something to do with the fact that Jones knew the Alhambra from personal experience and it was always considered to be an integral part of his belief in design and decoration reform. Other courts were perhaps less convincing, particularly those with few eyewitnesses to the real pieces. Suppositions concerning colour combinations had to be made with little archaeological evidence, but as few members of the public knew anything about the originals, it perhaps seemed more important to give an indication, rather than a strict detailed view of some aspects of world decorative and cultural history.

The two little guidebooks featured here are in themselves interesting snapshots of public entertainment and education in the mid-nineteenth century. Although there was a whole range of entertainment from music hall to opera, public entertainment in the mid-nineteenth century did seem very much to be concerned with enlightenment of the masses through art education. In some respects, it seems very little different from today in that institutions find themselves with the same difficult task of educating through entertainment. It would be hard to judge how successful the Crystal Palace was as an educational resource, compared to its entertainment value. This always seems to be the problem when turning a museum into an entertainment complex. Does everyone enjoy the interactivity but still go away with more information, or have they just had fun pressing buttons? A number of critics of the Crystal Palace made note that many of the crowds who descended at the weekend were outside, rather than inside the Palace, the outside areas being full of non-educational entertainment.

 Illustration: Entrance to the Byzantine Court at the Crystal Palace, 1854.

However, the courts themselves, as can be seen from the two illustrations of sections of the Medieval and Byzantine Courts, were impressive, considering they were mere plaster copies of original stone features. They must have made a particularly grand gesture towards ideas concerning the history of the architectural and decorative arts, and given an indication of what was available in the world outside of the island of Britain, as well as an inkling of the cultural history that we all have an equal share in.
Interestingly, there were no courts dedicated to Indian, Chinese or Japanese cultures, nothing concerning Africa, Native America or the Pacific. In some respects, lack of detailed information could be seen as an excuse for at least some of the omissions. However, this does not explain why for example a Nineveh Court was included and an Indian Court was not. With many of these nineteenth century well-meaning public educational formats, there were just as many underlying factors that had to do with issues largely concerned with the twin aspects of empire, colonialism and racism. The popular and standard Euro-centric world view, also gave a staggering lack of perspective of the world as a whole. 

However, despite its obvious faults, the Crystal Palace did try to open new vistas on the world for a British audience that was largely ignorant of any details, other than its own. For those with no knowledge of the historical placing of the decorative arts of Europe at least, the different courts would have proved a useful resource, particularly if there was little hope of being able to visit the medieval churches of France and Germany, the ruins of Pompeii, or the Alhambra of Granada.

Further reading links: