Ancient Trees & Modern Art

Petworth is a quaint market town in the heart of the South Downs National Park. I spent a couple of days there in June and enjoyed the comforts of a modernised Victorian photographer’s studio, above an art gallery, on a picturesque car-free road called Lombard Street. The magnificent Petworth Estate was a stone’s throw away but I only had time for a short stroll among some of the park’s enormous ancient trees.

Georgian Elegance Goes Pop

My first destination was in the opposite direction, at the bottom of the hill: Newlands House Gallery, a listed Georgian townhouse that specialises in showing modern and contemporary art. It seemed an incongruous setting for an exhibition of work by arguably the most iconic character of twentieth century art. But Andy Warhol: My True Story presents a more personal view of the man rather than his cult status persona, and the peaceful atmosphere of Newlands House is the ideal setting. Artworks by Warhol are on display throughout the house as well as photographs documenting his public life, archive material from members of his family and memorabilia from his vast collections.

The exhibition highlights Warhol’s close relationship with his mother, Julia: a soundtrack of her singing voice permeates the first few rooms of the exhibition and the show ends with a clip from Warhol’s 1966 movie Mrs Warhol, showing Julia in her drab kitchen, having a strange conversation with a young man, played by Warhol’s lover at the time. Warhol’s lasting influence is evidenced by the inclusion of works by contemporary artists: Gavin Turk pays homage with his self-portrait as Warhol in a fright wig; and Philip Colbert, sometimes called ‘the godson of Andy Warhol’, takes the soup can idea on a surreal journey with his crazy lobster sculptures. I really enjoyed my visit to Newlands House Gallery, I saw things I’d never seen before and the gorgeous Georgian building offered a calm and welcoming space, which was a refreshing change from the manic block-buster exhibitions at the major London galleries.

Sculpture in the Landscape

After the delights of Petworth, I visited the newly-opened Goodwood Art Foundation. Goodwood is famous for its Festival of Speed and Goodwood Revival, which celebrate the power and glamour of motor racing and classic cars. I’ve never been but I imagine there’s lots of frantic excitement and sensory overload at those events. The Duke of Richmond, owner of the Goodwood Estate, has created an oasis of natural beauty and quiet contemplation in a 70-acre plot of meadow and woodland set high on the South Downs. To launch the season, curator Ann Gallagher (previously of Tate Britain) has overseen the exhibition of work by half a dozen leading contemporary artists. Rachel Whiteread headlines in the main gallery with her chaotic white shed Doppelgänger surrounded by some of her rarely-seen photographs, and in the smaller space are twelve marble pieces from Bergamo III. A few steps from the main gallery is the stunning architecture of the café, called 24, where work by Lubna Chowdhary is displayed. Through the woods is the Pigott Gallery, a smaller exhibition space screening Amie Siegel’s film Bloodlines, which records the transportation of paintings from private stately homes and museum collections to the MK Gallery for a public exhibition of work by George Stubbs. After walking in the grounds on a hot summer’s day, it was a relief to enter this dimly-lit space, sit down for a while and see images of horses painted by Stubbs. Curiously, the gallery had a pleasant horsey aroma, like an old tack room.

The grounds are divided into sections – ancient woodland, flower meadow, cherry grove, chalk quarry, amphitheatre – with trails to follow to discover more artworks. Across the natural setting, you’ll find more works by Whiteread: Down and Up, Untitled (Pair) and Detached II. The scarlet Octetra (three-element-stack) by Isamu Noguchi pops in the surrounding greenery: it’s part of a modular, geometric play system he developed in the 1960s based on Buckminster Fuller’s theories about the fundamental structures found in nature. It looks like a giant child’s plastic toy. Rose Wiley’s two pineapple sculptures are hilariously whacky; while Veronica Ryan’s magnolia pieces are more lyrical. One of the most delightful works is found on the edge of the ancient woodland: it’s a sound installation called As Many As Will by Susan Philipsz and it features disembodied voices emerging from the trees, singing a haunting sixteenth-century country song.