Wightwick Manor: A Pre-Raphaelite Dream

Last Christmas I was lucky enough to be gifted something utterly glorious by one of my oldest, kindest friends, National Trust membership.

Ever since we have endeavoured to visit as many places as possible, and I’m always on the look out for anywhere in striking distance that poses a potential day out. Looking through the guide book I spotted something which looked incredibly appealing; Wightwick Manor and as soon as I read the words ‘Pre-Raphaelite Art Collection’ I knew it was a must.

As soon as I walked around the exterior I immediately knew this was it; my favourite property to date. I felt something deep within me stir. The exterior was yet another example of Victorian perfection. With its Tudoresque timbered structure marrying brick, wood and render in perfect harmony. The details across the exterior were nothing short of perfection. Exquisite brick chimneys dotted the roof line adding splashes of red amongst the black and white and complimenting the block base. The once jet black fumed oak now aged hint of brown and silver with time, twisting and turning forming almost mesmerizing patterns against the white lime render. Intricate carvings lurk here and there, faces looking for a viewer, barge boards with impossibly delicate detailing and layered window frames nothing short of exquisite. The house was no vast mansion, no lavish pile, but its aesthetics were what I consider the pinnacle of British architecture and style. In that uniquely Victorian way the Manor marries the medieval, Gothic and Tudor in a way which is utterly believable, totally respectful and considered and entirely perfect.

Once inside it felt as if someone had looked deep within me and created my ultimate Pre-Raphaelite dream. The interior felt dark and gloomy, with an incredible atmosphere that weighed heavy. The lower ceilings of the the entrance hall, study and corridors gave the building a cosy feeling which I felt was utterly unique of any building this size I'd ever visited. The endless wealth of textiles, Morris wallpaper, rugs, paintings, stained glass and so many beautiful objects gave the Manor a homely feeling which instantly warmed my heart. It's eclectic nature struck a chord with my own excessive, magpiesque traits and indulged them to the nth degree.

The entire Manor was a feast for the senses from beginning to end. Dante Gabriel Rosetti paintings and drawings hang here and there, above piano's, in dark hidden corners, against deep wood panelling which only serve to accentuate the decadent nature of this glorious place. I wander down the dull corridor and beams of light strike out at the giant potted plants which give a pleasant scent of foliage. All of this is a prelude to the great hall, where a woman plays the piano filling the house with a dreamy lull that easily transports you back to the Victorian heyday of the home. Blue and white china glint out from the dressers and shelves while vases of wildflowers give the impression that Morris's furnishings have come to life and taken over the room in which they sit. A Pre-Raphaelite beauty waters her plants by the piano in a large painting by George Fredrick Watts. Illustrations of Ravens, Hares and Lions linger in the shadows and a Burne-Jones painting waits for you at the end of the grand double height space, beckoning you forth to the rest of the house. 

The entire Manor is a temple to the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood and the Arts and Crafts movement. Paintings from the great names of the movement including; Millais, Rossetti, Ford Maddox Brown, but also lesser known artists, including the more prolific females within the group; Lizzie Siddal, Evelyn De Morgan, Emma Sandys all grace every nook and cranny of this utterly unique place. No detail or object feels unimportant in this Victorian wonderland where everything has its place and even the tiniest trinket would be missed in the gloriously eclectic ambiance of this honest, comfortable home.

Wightwick Manor is a must see for all obsessive Victorian enthusiasts like myself, especially if the Pre-Raphaelites is your passion. I confess the place thoroughly bewitched me, and the moment I left I began pondering my return. Only the most special places in the world leave you feeling that way. I've been more lucky than most to have found just a few of them in my life so far. Until next time Wightwick.

HR Giger Museum 20th Anniversary Celebration

From the moment I read about the 20th Anniversary celebrations to be held at the Giger Museum in Gruyeres - I knew I had to be there. This exciting celebration, though I had no real idea what it would involve, felt special. And indeed it was.

Many months before when the celebration was announced we were planning a European road trip, which had been discussed for a few years, but after breaking my ankle last summer (less than a week after returning from the Giger exhibition in Nantes) all holiday plans were on hold until I had recovered. Almost immediately the road trip's dates were set and the entire journey was quickly built around the celebration.

True to my militaristic planning, I had thought it prudent to arrive in Gruyeres the day before the celebration, firstly to secure a parking place (as I anticipated the village would be extra busy due to the celebration), and also to enjoy the calm before the storm as it were. This turned out to be stellar planning, as it gave us an extra evening in the Giger bar and the chance to meet with my old friend and fellow Giger collector Dave Julian, who kindly invited me to his home 10 years ago as a wide eyed 17 year old desperate to see some Giger work up close. Also to finally meet Les Barany, Giger's agent who was essential in setting up my meeting with Dave, and who gave me important and unforgettable advice 11 years ago when I needed it most, something I have never forgotten. A man of great kindness indeed. And to meet Tom Fischer - an integral part of Giger's life and world, co-director of the museum, kind supporter of my artwork, all round nice guy, along with his super girlfriend Michelle whose passion and enthusiasm is truly infectious!

Having shared a few beers with friends old and new, and after a sleepless night listening to the fountain in the square gurgle away I embraced, as fresh faced as possible, what I knew would be a glorious day I would never forget.

The day began at a steady pace with a nice quiet lull in the museum and I took the opportunity to see every piece on display before things got busy, as I predicted they would. One added bonus was the wonderful surprise that we could take photos for one day only. As you might imagine, I was unstoppable. To be back beside such true masterpieces with more depth and detail than most will ever know, was a privilege and an honour. The atmosphere throughout the museum was one of quiet excitement. Everyone I passed had a friendly word to say or seemed cocooned in anticipation, and rightly so.

In the garden the happy, relaxed vibe was endless, with cocktails, beer and wine flowing freely and many a sausage put away. In a marquee in the corner, a human canvas was being  prepared for many intensive hours of body painting, the result of which was beyond stunning. I confess that more than once, it crossed my mind that I could never stand statue still for 7 hours in less than a thong to undergo such a transformation, and great kudos to the model Elisa and artists Fiorella Scatena and Udo Schurr for their incredible determination and skill.

Carmen Giger welcomed us all to the museum and the day's celebrations, followed by talks by Bijan Aalam and Andreas Hirsch who talked about their experiences and friendship with Giger and reflected on his life. The attic room was then filled with performances of modern dance and music throughout the day,  surrounded by Giger's beautiful personal collection of art.

The entire day was a haze of great conversation, building friendships with some fantastic people, and with a few little surprises thrown in. The celebration was, in my opinion, a resounding success paying homage to our hero with a touch of absinthe, surrounded by the most magnificent art of our age, all in a stunning medieval village. Could you really ask for more? I doubt it.

As the day drew to a close, we were treated to the magnificent spectacle of seeing Fiorella and Udo's body painting creation come to life as a stunning biomechanoid queen wielding a facehugger staff, and coaxing a great chained Xenomorph towards a captivated crowd of adoring fans. Not something you see every day and not something any of us present are likely to forget any time soon!

A most fitting end to my time in Gruyeres and this leg of the trip was to make the pilgrimage to see Hans Ruedi's grave, and the beautiful tomb which has been added since I was last in Gruyeres. The polished black stone looks mysterious, with its glistening flecks of silver and striking matte Giger design it is appropriately alien and striking in the quiet, quaint Swiss graveyard. A fitting monument to a man utterly unique in this world.

Many thanks to all the amazing people I shared this day with and helped make it an utterly precious, incredible celebration, especially; Kev, Dave Julian, Les Barany, Carmen Giger, Tom Fischer, Michelle, Carlos Arenas, Kerry and Roger all the way from Australia to name but a few. I think it speaks volumes about how respected, loved and adored Giger and his work are that so many people travelled from every corner of the globe to mark this occasion and pay homage to the artist of our age, my hero; Hans Ruedi Giger.

Author and Photographer: Alice Durose

The Cabinet of Curiosities

During a recent jaunt to Yorkshire to visit the charming East Riddlesden Hall, I was on the look out for other places to tie in with the day trip when I stumbled upon The Cabinet of Curiosities on Tripadvisor. As you might imagine, immediately grabbed by the name, I investigated further. And they were open, fantastic! The village of Haworth was only a short drive away and looked quite interesting, so perfect!

Upon our arrival at the village we became quite alarmed by the amount of traffic and distinct lack of parking spaces. It became apparent after the sudden appearance of a vintage bus and some military vehicles we hadn't arrived on a normal weekend, and some posters later informed us it was a 1940's weekend! That was certainly a surprise! Eventually we managed to squeeze into a small car park and headed off to find the Cabinet of Curiosities.

The village of Haworth, it soon became apparent, is steeped in history, with literary connections and a thriving old fashioned high street the place was teeming with people in all manner of 1940's dress, even a Winston Churchill lookalike. The weekend's festivities meant my browse wasn't quite the quiet, relaxed affair I had imagined. With hustle and bustle, folks pushing past and the general throng of people quite off putting for someone wanting to absorb the atmosphere and ponder the trinkets, trust me to turn up on the busiest weekend of the year!

The shop certainly had character from the moment you see it, with a Victorian style sign and old facade setting the scene for within. 

The interior of the store was fitted out like an old chemists, with beautiful wooden shelving, bottles and jars everywhere and anatomical models dotted here and there. One lady was heard to remark 'what are all these skeletons everywhere? I don't understand they're everywhere, it's very strange, I don't like it.' To which I wanted to answer 'well there's one inside of you right now so it's not that strange ...' But as I often do in these situations I bit my tongue and walked away.

The shop in general was a riot of pattern, illustration and medical memorabilia, with the bath bombs and salts giving the place a heady, exotic scent to tantalise the senses that little bit more. The store was a temple to all the curios which utterly fascinate me, Palmistry hands, Phrenology heads, a whole manner of bottles, jars and the like, skeletons, medical dioramas, insects, books, the list is endless; a true Cabinet of Curiosities!

With an incredible host of interesting, macabre, bizarre items on offer from bat tea pots to muscle rubs from shaving paraphernalia to incredibly ornate journals and notebooks the Cabinet of Curiosities has something on offer for all of you curiously inclined out there! Check out their website here!

Kensal Green

When taking a trip most places I try to build in a visit to a Cemetery or Churchyard to give myself chance to see a different side to a place, and often one few tourists experience. I love to visit Empires of the Dead, its one of my favourite pass times and something I confess to finding very peaceful and relaxing. So our trip to London this January was the perfect chance to visit another of Britain's most famous cemeteries and one of the 'Magnificent Seven'; Kensal Green.

Travelling out to Kensal Green on the overground you could feel yourself swept away from the hustle and bustle of the tourist centre. The station felt like that of a sleepy town, with few travellers around and the quiet, largely residential streets felt a million miles away from London city centre. Immediately we could see the Cemetery, and more accurately the huge wall which obviously surrounded the one thing people don't seem to want to be reminded of constantly; death. After struggling to see a way into the Cemetery we were pointed in the right direction by a lady who looked at us like a pair of lunatics. On the way passed a welcoming looking pub where families seemed to be gathering for Sunday lunch and a relaxing drink (which I made a note of for later) and eventually came to a track leading to the Cemetery. There were immediately two parts to choose between, a Catholic Cemetery, or the large swathe dating from the Victorian era onwards, we chose the latter.

Immediately I began to compare how different Kensal Green was to Highgate. A vast unending sea of tombs, gravestones and monuments lay before me, peppered with trees and set against the somewhat eerie industrial sight of giant gasometers, long out of use and as much of a relic to the past as the graves below. Highgates intimate, close feeling with its twists and turns and the journey its paths take you on across the terrain couldn't be more different to the huge swathe of graves across the flat plain, running as far as the eye can see, like the avenues of Pere Lachaise.

Kensal Green had a much more raw, honest feeling than many Cemeteries I have visited over the years, with the industrial backdrop speaking of harsh realities rather than romantic fantasies. In the distance Central London looms with its smog, high rise buildings and glass glinting on the horizon. The peace and quiet of Kensal Green was welcome rest bite after a few days in the constant onslaught of the fast paced capital. Listening to little but the trees and the occasional squirrel flit by gave ample room for some breathing space.

Some of the monuments in the Cemetery were truly exemplary, with some stunning carving and design on display. Yet like Highgate, a faded, decaying atmosphere surrounds the place as graves fall into ruin, the roofs of personal chapels collapse and Kensal Green takes on its on macabre personality and haunting beauty.
Unfortunately the monument I would have liked to visit most of all doesn't exist. Some years ago there were rumours that Freddie Mercury's ashes were scattered at Kensal Green after a plaque appeared dedicated to him. That plaque was subsequently swiftly removed, but I kept Freddie in my mind the whole time I was there, and the fact this could indeed be his final resting place.

I am truly glad I finally made it to Kensal Green to experience its unique landscape and atmosphere and look forward to exploring more of the Magnificent Seven in years to come ...