The gloriously impure world of Edward Burra
Every few years the shade of Edward Burra is treated to a Major Retrospective. The pattern is long established: Edward who? Forgotten genius, sui generis, well known for being unknown save by beardy centenarians and art tarts with ginny voices. Why have I never heard of this man? LGBT-ish avant la lettre, Polari-ish. After the show inhumation beckons again and he will disappear into an obscurity that cannot be relieved until the curatocracy once more lets loose the dogs of hype. George Melly and Dan Farson are no longer around to peal his name and Jane Stevenson's impeccable and often funny biography suffers from its subject's being a forgotten genius, sui generis, unknown save… etc.
In later years Burra was the very picture of a different neglect: physical. He gave a fine impression of being an embittered down-and-out: a seamy, slight invalid, reedy-voiced, equipped with a tramp flask, 40 Gauloises and a lag's hairdo. A perfect role for David Bradley. Although he was no Joë Bousquet – 'Ma blessure existait avant moi: je suis né pour l'incarner' ('My wound existed before me: I was born to embody it') – he was nonetheless a super-valetudinarian. He suffered an enlarged spleen, jaundice, anaemia, rheumatic fever, chilblains, crippling arthritis, more or less permanent pain, depression. His background was provincial upper-middle-class. His animosity towards Rye's tweeness fuelled him – and he knew it, he spent most of his life there. He was supported by his devoted family of local grandees. These circumstances might have been conferred on him so that he could devote his surprisingly long life to his art.
He was no joiner, he loitered uncommitted, fag between his lips, on the fringes of the British Surrealist Group.
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The Guardian
2 days ago
- The Guardian
Jazz, Paris and war's brutality: the radical watercolours of Edward Burra, British art's great unknown
On any objective reading, Edward Burra occupies a distinguished place in the history of 20th-century British art. His work, especially his watercolours of demi-monde life in interwar Paris and New York, is a distinct and vivid record of the times. His paintings are held in major institutions – as is his extensive archive, which is housed at Tate Britain in London. And yet he remains 'one of the great known unknowns of modern British art', according to Thomas Kennedy, the curator of a new retrospective show at Tate Britain. It is being held more than half a century on from Burra's last show at the Tate in 1973, three years before he died aged 71. There are lots of reasons for Burra's 'unknown' status, explains Kennedy. 'He worked alone, and not being part of a defined group doesn't help to place an artist. But probably more important is the fact he absolutely hated talking about his work.' Kennedy cites some excruciating documentary footage (also from the early 1970s) illustrating Burra's painful reluctance to engage with questions about art. 'He just hated that stuff and would call art 'fart' and things like that. Apparently, he walked through that Tate show as if wearing blinkers, not looking at the work and just wanting to get it over with.' The exhibition runs alongside a parallel show of works by Ithell Colquhoun, another radical British artist who, like Burra, challenged artistic conventions and explored parallel ideas of identity and sexuality in surrealist work that often reflected her occult beliefs. The two defining features of Burra's early life – he was born in 1905 – were the wealth of his family (prominent in banking) and the fact he suffered from extremely poor health. This combination resulted in him later being able to travel – to France and Spain, the United States and Mexico – then return home to Rye in East Sussex, where he spent most of his life, to recuperate after his exertions and paint the things he had seen. His illnesses – rheumatoid arthritis and the blood disease spherocytosis among other conditions – also helped dictate the nature of his art in that it was physically easier for him to work with watercolours flat on a table than with oils at an easel. 'As a watercolourist he pushed the boundaries of a traditionally delicate medium to create bold graphic works, rich in detail,' says Kennedy. His illness also informed his empathy for those on the fringes of society and in his subject matter he engaged with some of the 20th century's most significant social, political and cultural events. 'After Paris in the roaring 20s and the Harlem Renaissance, he sort of pivoted to depict the violence of the Spanish civil war and then the second world war, before taking on British landscapes and reflections on postwar industrialisation and environmental degradation.' While Burra was publicly reticent about his art, the Tate show's exploration of his archives serves to deepen understanding of the man. As well as letters there are his gramophone records – mostly jazz – books and calendars he kept that show his obsessive cinema-going, sometimes seeing several films a day in French and German as well as English. 'Bringing these sources together is quite revealing,' says Kennedy. 'It all adds to the tapestry of his influences and what emerges is a socially conscious art that is warmly satirical while also being willing to confront the darker side of life.' Three Sailors at a Bar, 1930Burra's sexuality is ambiguous, but his work in the 20s and 30s often reflected queer culture and sensibility. While this image of a bar in the south of France is among his more explicitly queer work, it also reflected a general sense of sexual liberation among Burra's circle in the roaring 20s. Minuit Chanson, 1931 (main image above)In this Parisian music shop where you could pay to listen to a gramophone record, Burra's vibrant street scene celebrates its diverse clientele. In characteristic fashion, he deploys a satirical eye to heighten his subject matter rather than to cruelly caricature it. Sign up to Inside Saturday The only way to get a look behind the scenes of the Saturday magazine. Sign up to get the inside story from our top writers as well as all the must-read articles and columns, delivered to your inbox every weekend. after newsletter promotion Beelzebub, c 1937Burra loved Spain and was devastated by the outbreak of the civil war, as he was to be again by the second world war a few years later. In this painting, he transforms historical Spanish conquistador imagery into a grotesque tableau accompanied by an unnerving sexual charge. Cornish Clay Mines, 1970In his later years, Burra's travel was restricted to motoring around Britain, and here he presents a commentary on postwar car culture, featuring ghost-like figures and advertising icons, such as the Michelin Man, all the while acknowledging his own participation in modernity's environmental depredations. Near Whitby, Yorkshire, 1972 One of Burra's final works shows an empty road disappearing into the fog. With lighter applications of watercolour than his earlier graphic style, possibly due to his declining health, the painting's suggestion of moving into the unknown is typical of his later works in which he seems to be searching for moments of quiet reflection. Edward Burra – Ithell Colquhoun is at Tate Britain, London, 13 June to 19 October.
Spectator
3 days ago
- Spectator
The gloriously impure world of Edward Burra
Every few years the shade of Edward Burra is treated to a Major Retrospective. The pattern is long established: Edward who? Forgotten genius, sui generis, well known for being unknown save by beardy centenarians and art tarts with ginny voices. Why have I never heard of this man? LGBT-ish avant la lettre, Polari-ish. After the show inhumation beckons again and he will disappear into an obscurity that cannot be relieved until the curatocracy once more lets loose the dogs of hype. George Melly and Dan Farson are no longer around to peal his name and Jane Stevenson's impeccable and often funny biography suffers from its subject's being a forgotten genius, sui generis, unknown save… etc. In later years Burra was the very picture of a different neglect: physical. He gave a fine impression of being an embittered down-and-out: a seamy, slight invalid, reedy-voiced, equipped with a tramp flask, 40 Gauloises and a lag's hairdo. A perfect role for David Bradley. Although he was no Joë Bousquet – 'Ma blessure existait avant moi: je suis né pour l'incarner' ('My wound existed before me: I was born to embody it') – he was nonetheless a super-valetudinarian. He suffered an enlarged spleen, jaundice, anaemia, rheumatic fever, chilblains, crippling arthritis, more or less permanent pain, depression. His background was provincial upper-middle-class. His animosity towards Rye's tweeness fuelled him – and he knew it, he spent most of his life there. He was supported by his devoted family of local grandees. These circumstances might have been conferred on him so that he could devote his surprisingly long life to his art. He was no joiner, he loitered uncommitted, fag between his lips, on the fringes of the British Surrealist Group.
The Courier
3 days ago
- The Courier
5 things top Fife wedding photographer wants couples to know before the big day
Matthew Johnston is booked up more than a year in advance. As a wedding photographer, this is standard. Some venues book up 12-18 months ahead of time. But there's a balance to be had between getting in early and going too far, too soon. 'One couple actually tried to book me for 2028,' smiles Matthew, who is based in Kirkcaldy but works all over Scotland. 'It was lovely, because they're obviously keen, but I don't even know if or when my diary is going to be open in 2028!' Matthew Johnston likes to capture candid moments. Image: Matthew Johnston Photography. This is just one of the insights he shares with me during our candid conversation about what it means to be a wedding photographer in 2025. Speedy Snaps weekend job grew into career It's a career Matthew fell into naturally after growing up working Saturdays in his dad's photo lab. 'My dad, Ian McEwan, has a photo shop in Kirkcaldy – Speedy Snaps,' he explains. 'It was just a Saturday job for me a first, when I was a teenager. I wasn't that interested. 'But then I picked up a camera when I went on holiday to Ibiza, of all places! When I came back, I was super excited to print the photos, and it just snowballed from there. With a background in landscape photography, Matthew makes the most of a venue's scenery. Image: Matthew Johnston Photography. 'Even now, I think it's incredible that this is my job. It's so much fun!' As wedding season 2025 kicks off, Matthew shares what he wants couples to know when choosing a photographer for their big day. 1. Pick someone who shares your style Picking a style is important; Matthew describes his as 'documentary, 'natural' and 'fun'. Image: Matthew Johnston Photography. It sounds self-explanatory, but for Matthew, one of the most important things a couple can do is browse prospective photographers' portfolios and find someone who matches their vibe. 'You've got to resonate with the photographer's work in some way,' he explains. 'There's plenty of styles out there, whether it's that kind of Vogue-ish, editorial stuff, or more documentary and happy. 'As well as Instagram or their website, it's a good idea to look at a full gallery of a photographer's work from one shoot, so you can see what you can expect to receive. Not just the highlight reel, but all the little things that photographer might capture too. 'If I have a call with a couple and I sense that things are going a certain way, or they're asking for a particular style that isn't really mine, I'd probably direct them to someone I know who is better suited,' he adds. 'Likewise if you have a consultation with someone and decide their style isn't what you're looking for, please do let us know. That's much preferred, rather than vanishing into the ether. 'Luckily, most people come to be now because they like my established style, which is quite documentary, fun and natural.' 2. Your photographer should feel like a friend Matthew says it's important couples feel at ease with their photographer. Image: Matthew Johnston Photography. 'Times have changed, and gone are the days of the bossy photographer,' laughs Matthew. 'We don't need to be best friends, but if you can feel at ease and have a laugh, taking your wedding photos is going to be a much better experience. 'While we won't be dragging you away for hours on end on your wedding day, we will be spending a significant amount of time with you, on a very special day for you. So it really helps if we all get on. 'Personally, I like to build a rapport with my clients. I love when they interact with me before the wedding, either through social media or chatting on the phone. 'I think it's important to get a sense of them so they don't feel like strangers on the wedding day, so I do sometimes stalk their Instagram profiles! But I always ask first, don't worry.' 3. Test shoots aren't necessary – but they help Creating posed shots without stiffness can be made easier with a test shoot, says wedding photographer Matthew. Image: Matthew Johnston Photography. Many photographers, Matthew included, offer pre-wedding photoshoots as an optional extra when booking your wedding photography package. 'While you don't need to a have a pre-shoot, it's definitely something to think about, especially if you're a bit worried about having your photos taken. 'You'll get to see how your photographer works, and they get to see how you respond, without all the pressure of the day itself. 'By then, you've got hair getting done, makeup getting done, maybe you're just overwhelmed by the fact you're getting married that day. And then this photographer shows up and starts putting a camera in your face! 'So for a test shoot, couples normally turn up dressed for a nice day out, and we just get to know each other and play around. 'My wife and I did one for our wedding, and she still says it was one of the best thing we could've done, because I myself am very awkward in front of the camera! 'However, I always tell my couples – whatever you don't want in the picture, you'll have to give to me. So pack light!' 4. Embrace the weather on your wedding day Some weddings will have that perfect sunset shot – but it's not the only option. Image: Matthew Johnston Photography. Living in Scotland, there's no guarantee of a warm or sunny wedding day, even in the summer. For Matthew, the best photos happen when couples embrace whatever elements are thrown their way, even if the weather's not 'picture perfect'. 'A sunny day makes everyone happy, but it's the worst for photos! The sun being high in the sky can make it hard to light group shots, or get even lighting,' he explains. 'I reckon the best time of year for photos is actually October/November time, because the sun's always quite low throughout the day, and you get that lovely directional light. 'And if the weather is nice, you can get cracking sunset shots. 'However, if bad weather forces everyone inside, you can get some really cool, quirky photos with the flash too, which I love. Everyone's got a wedding photo in a field, but it's fun to find the unique things inside a venue and get photos that are a bit different. 'And while I wouldn't want anyone getting drenched in their finery, it's worth grabbing a couple of brollies and dashing out for a couple of photos in the rain. We did that on our wedding day, and the brolly became a really cool feature of the photo. 'Plus, rain droplets can create a really magical feeling. Sunsets aren't the only option.' 5. Trust your photographer's weird requests The wedding may be for one day, but the special moments captured by your photographer can last a lifetime. Image: Matthew Johnston Photography. 'Listen, when we ask you to do cheesy things like bumping hips, going in for a kiss, or holding hands and walking like you're drunk, it's not necessarily because we want that to be the photo,' Matthew reveals. 'It's because those prompts, silly as they are, create moments of laughter and movement – and we'll capture that.' His one non-negotiable? 'If your photographer grabs you at any point throughout the day, except the ceremony and speeches of course, and tells you 'come outside, the light is great' – go! 'It's likely that'll be the best photos of the day, and you don't want to miss out. It takes five minutes, but you'll have the image captured forever.' All photos courtesy of Matthew Johnston Photography.
