Latest news with #AnthonyvanDyck
Telegraph
06-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
The King's Coronation State Portrait is a right royal mess
Thirty-four years after the late Queen Elizabeth II opened the National Gallery's Sainsbury Wing, her son, King Charles III has returned to reopen it, with Queen Camilla, following extensive refurbishment. To mark the occasion, their Majesties' recently completed coronation state portraits were unveiled in the gallery's central hall. Spare a thought for Peter Kuhfeld (b. 1952) and the self-taught Paul S Benney (b. 1959), the British artists who executed them, who are not quite of the calibre, shall we say, of the greats responsible for the full-length portraits on the surrounding walls. To one side, for instance, there is The Red Boy (1825) by Thomas Lawrence, who is renowned for his painterly flair. And, a few rooms away, there is the colossal equestrian portrait of Charles I by Anthony van Dyck: a defining image of British sovereignty. Tough competition. The Royal Collection, of which the portraits will form a part, defines state portraits as carefully constructed, 'definitive' images of the monarch (usually dressed in robes and accompanied by a crown, orb, and sceptre) as 'the embodiment of Royal rule'. The earliest known example is Paul van Somer's c. 1620 likeness of James VI & I; another image by Van Dyck, at Windsor Castle, was likely conceived as Charles I's official state portrait. Since the coronation of King Edward VII, in 1902, coronation portrait photographs have also been released – the King's, by Hugo Burnand, appeared in 2023 – in advance of the painted portraits. Selected by the King, Kuhfeld plays it very safe, adhering to the conventions of a typical state portrait – with, for instance, the imperial state crown positioned prominently to the monarch's side (on a table that, surreally and unfortunately, appears to sprout like a golden fungus from a crimson curtain). Sunlight streams in from a palace window to the picture's left, imbuing the composition with a late-afternoon quality, commensurate with the fact that Charles acceded the throne when he was already in his seventies. Sadly, though, this air of end-of-day decline is exacerbated by Kuhfeld's doddery touch. Dressed, beneath his robe, in military uniform (just like his great-grandfather, George V, in his state portrait), the King appears kindly but uncertain, with piercing yet close-set cornflower-blue eyes, and lips that seem to tremble. His anatomy, too, is somewhat squashed, providing an unintentionally bathetic note, as if a potentially great man had been diminished. Overall, he comes across as diffident, and – a fatal flaw, this, in a state portrait – does not command his stage. Benney's sleek portrait of the Queen – who stands further forward in the space of the picture, which makes her appear more self-confident, as well as soignée – is far more satisfying (and reproducible, which is important in our digital age). By representing that eye-catching cascade of her purple robe, the picture also nods explicitly to the state portrait of Elizabeth II. (The women, in both pictures, wear white.) As an image, it has greater clarity and coherence than Kuhfeld's wobbly effort. I relish the fact that, for instance, the colour of the background picks up tiny details in Camilla's costume, such as the hue of a setting in her bracelet on her right wrist, or the fan she holds. Is it deliberate that the red palette of the King's portrait finds its complement in this green tonality of the Queen's? I'd like to think so – but, if all you had to go on was the respective strengths of these two pictures, you'd assume that Camilla was the regnant monarch, and Charles her consort.
New York Times
22-03-2025
- General
- New York Times
Corrections: March 22, 2025
An article on Friday about beef tallow misstated the nature of a $1.5 million payment received by the American Heart Association. It was a donation from listeners of a radio program sponsored by Procter & Gamble, not a corporate sponsorship from Procter & Gamble itself. A picture caption with an article on Tuesday about Lucian Simmons, the new head of provenance research at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, misstated the era of a bronze griffin being returned to Greece. It is from the seventh century B.C., not the seventh century. A picture caption with an article on Friday about the Frick Museum reversed the identities of the painter and subject in a portrait. The image was Sir Anthony van Dyck's portrait of Frans Snyders, not Snyder's portrait of van Dyck. An article on Page 8 this weekend about the actress Ellen Pompeo misstates the type of work that her husband, Chris Ivery, does. Ivery works in marketing; he is no longer a music producer. An article on Page 30 this weekend about solidarity transcribes incorrectly a line from Sarah Schulman's forthcoming book, 'The Fantasy and Necessity of Solidarity.' The line is 'Solidarity is the action behind the revelation that each of us, individually, are not the only people with dreams,' not 'Solidarity is the action behind the revelation that each of us, individually, are the only people with dreams.' Errors are corrected during the press run whenever possible, so some errors noted here may not have appeared in all editions. To contact the newsroom regarding correction requests, please email nytnews@ To share feedback, please visit Comments on opinion articles may be emailed to letters@ For newspaper delivery questions: 1-800-NYTIMES (1-800-698-4637) or email customercare@
The Guardian
19-03-2025
- The Guardian
Fancy a Belgian city break without the crowds of Ghent or Bruges? Mechelen might be the answer
Arriving in Belgium on the Eurostar, it is always tempting to continue on to a popular weekend destination like Bruges, Ghent or Antwerp. But this time I hop on a local train at the Brussels Gare du Midi for the 30-minute journey to Mechelen, a surprisingly grand and opulent city that in the 16th century was capital of most of the Low Countries – Belgium, Netherlands and Luxembourg. Despite boasting an eclectic mix of medieval churches and renaissance palaces, eye-catching contemporary art and culture venues, great bars, restaurants and the obligatory Belgian brewery, it remains delightfully uncrowded, unspoilt and firmly off the tourist trail. Railway buffs will know that Mechelen's original 1835 train station was the terminus of continental Europe's first railway. Today it is being rebuilt and is part construction site, part futuristic travel hub. But it is only a 15-minute walk through narrow cobbled streets into the heart of the historic town centre, with the Unesco world heritage bell tower of Saint Rumbold's Cathedral serving as a landmark. Inside the cathedral, the baroque high altar features a painting of Christ on the cross by Anthony van Dyck and a choir by Lucas Faydherbe. But most visitors head straight for the stairs up to the belfry, blissfully unaware that there are 538 of them. Their reward is a vertiginous open-air walkway around the top of the tower with spectacular views. To get a feel for Mechelen's sumptuous golden age, the next stop is the Hof van Busleyden museum, a splendid redbrick palace surrounded by ornamental Renaissance gardens that welcomed princes, emperors and figures such as Erasmus and Sir Thomas More. Recently renovated, the building is dedicated to the history of the city and filled with priceless tapestries, baroque sculptures and Flemish old masters such as Peter Paul Rubens and David Vinckboons. Other historic buildings have also been reinvented for modern times, such as Het Predikheren. This 17th-century monastery has been transformed into a public library that is now the town's cultural hub, hosting art exhibitions, dance and music performances. Comfy sofas and armchairs line a cloistered terrace, with the casual Barbib serving coffee, craft beers and sandwiches. More upmarket, the intimate Michelin-starred dining room of Tinèlle offers a €53 three-course lunch by Flemish chef Ken Verschueren, along with à la carte dishes such as North Sea crab, smoked eel and pigeon accompanied by crunchy, seasonal hop shoots. Mechelen's other landmark building is Grand Béguinage, a typical medieval Flemish town-within-a-town initially created as a refuge for lay religious women (Béguines), and now a Unesco world heritage site. Today, its labyrinth of narrow alleyways and tiny cottages house a grand church and Het Anker, a family-run brewery and distillery, which was founded by the Béguines in 1471. A tour includes beer and whisky tastings, and its cosy brasserie is popular for local specialities such as beef carbonnade, a hearty stew slow-cooked in their signature Gouden Carolus beer, or Mechelen's famous koekouek (cuckoo chicken), served with fresh local asparagus. A slow stroll back through the town centre brings me to my lodgings, Martin's Patershof, an imposing neo-Gothic church that has again changed with the times, being transformed into an arty hotel. Several rooms have original stained-glass windows and arched vaults, while the breakfast hall is dominated by an imposing altar and religious paintings. Saturday is market day in Grote Markt, the city's main square, which is lined with ancient mansions, guild houses and its palatial 16th-century town hall. This is the place to pick up local cheeses, smoked sausages, shrimps and oysters, and sip chilled Belgian bubbly. More food is on the menu at the nearby covered Vleeshalle, an immense 19th-century butcher's market that has been reborn as a vibrant emporium for cosmopolitan food stalls and is a firm favourite with locals for a tasty, reasonably priced lunch. The conviviality of market day is in marked contrast to an afternoon spent at Kazerne Dossin, a holocaust museum dedicated to Mechelen's transit camp for the deportation of Jews, Gypsies and homosexuals to Nazi concentration camps. The building is an austere concrete pentagon with four floors dedicated to the victims of wartime antisemitism in Belgium, as well as temporary exhibitions about contemporary human rights abuses across the globe. Afterwards, I wander along the futuristic towpath of the Dyle River that zigzags through the town centre – a raised ramp that seemingly floats above the water, dipping under ancient bridges and past the old fish market – until I come out at Kruidtuin. The former botanical gardens are now a lush public park of streams, lakes and flowerbeds. Spring is definitely in the air, with the first daffodils shooting up, and locals are getting excited about the upcoming Parkpop season of outdoor summer concerts. Even though the music is free, this being little-known Mechelen, there are never huge crowds.
