lowrTI Si 2.50 LOWRY By Julian Spalding Willi 48 colour plates One of the most rapid rises to fame in the art world in recent years has been that of L. S. Lowry (1887- 976). Lowry painted for decades before 1 achieving the recognition he deserved, and it was only in the last three or four years ofhis life that his true quality and originality were acknowledged. He has now become one of the best loved of modern English painters. Lowry spent all his life in industrial Manchester, an area he loved. He never shunned its bleaker aspects, but found a quirky poetry in them; as well as the smoking chimneys and the mills towering over the terraces, he painted the city-dwellers, their habits and the incidents in their lives, all ofwhich he was able to observe on his daily rounds as a rent collector. Lowry's apparently artless style grew out ofyears ofstudy and change, and conceals an extraordinary sense ofcomposition and skill in handling paint. The plates in this book are arranged to show how his early impressionistic paintings gave birth to the magnificent but often gloomy mill scenes of the twenties, how his art underwent radical changes in the thirties and again in the fifties until, right at the end ofhis life, his industrial landscapes faded into the distance, leaving his little figures isolated in a sea ofwhite. It has been argued that the connecting thread that links all these different styles is Lowry's 'loneliness'. But the author here suggests that Lowry was a loner by choice, a rogue artist who observed with compassion, and with a biting sense ofhumour, the goings-on of the world around him. Julian Spalding is Deputy Director of the Sheffield City Art Galleries. Jacket detail froin The Pond : (London, Tate Gallery) PHAIDON ISBN O 7148 1996 4 <»ltUKMQ» BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY Julian Spalding LOWRY PHAIDON To my parents jX) Phaidon Press Limited, LiltUgate House, St Ebbe's Street, Oxford Published in the United States ofAmerica by E. P. Button, New York Firstpublished igyg © igjg by Phaidon Press Limited All rights reserved Nopart ofthispublication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or — transmitted in anyform or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, ^T"^ SC /\T) ' recording or otherwise, without thepriorpermission ofthepublishers ' Cll^(\/, ISBN o 7148 tgg6 4 Library ofCongress Catalog Card Number: 7g-50j24 fj & Printed in Great Britain by Morrison Gibb Ltd, Edinburgh LOWRY This century has seen a breach open between contemporary art and the general pubhc. Avant-garde, particularly abstract, art has been met with widespread in- comprehension and abuse, and the art pundits have done little to allay the public's distrust. Lowry has both suffered and benefited from this dixision in taste: he has achieved a unique popularity with the general public, while to many in the art world his workstill appears crude and vulgar, too easilyaccessible and spuriously commercial. Lowry stands outside the mainstream development of modern British painting, partly because he had no desire to leave Manchester to work in London, and partly because the art world did not respond to his early overtures. He felt rejected, and his bitterness was perhaps reflected in the dogged way he chose to develop those aspects of his art which were guaranteed to offend refined aesthetic taste, his slapstick humour and his gauche simplicity of design. When in difficulties with a painting, Lowry preferred to ask the advice of someone completely untrained in art, rather than an expert. He gleaned a great deal from the paintings of children and amateurs - even, in one known instance, lifting a composition. Boy with a Stomach-ache, direct from a design by his friend, the amateur painter, the Reverend Geoffrey Bennett. Lowry provides a rare instance ofa fully trained artist ofgenius choosing to develop his art, not in the atmosphere of mainstream artistic debate, but in the no less rigorous climate of popular opinion. Lowry had an ambivalent attitude towards his isolated artistic position. He wanted the understanding and stimulus that could be gained from the company of other artists, yet he knew that the true direction of his art lay outside the main current of artistic opinion. After suffering a particularly fierce attack from the artist-critic Michael Ayrton, Lowry had the satisfaction of seeing a painting by himself fetch ten times the price of an Ayrton in the same auction. But popular success was not enough. Lowry's continual concern at the end ofhis life was 'Will I live? Will I live?' He wished earnestly to be remembered and judged as an artist, to know if his paint- ings would survive the test of time. The paradox of his position is summed up in his famous statement, recorded by Maurice Collis in 1951 'My whole happiness and un- : happiness were that my view was like nobody else's. Had it been like, I would not have been lonely, but had I not been lonely, I should not have seen what I did.' Predictably enough, commentators on Lowry have viewed him from the popular angle, concentrating on his personality rather than on his artistic achievement. The above quotation has been used, ad nauseam, to prove 'the loneHness of L. S. Lowry', when it in fact refers to Lowry's isolation as an artist rather than as a man. Had the alliteration not been quite so neat, it is doubtful if the phrase would have lingered. Lowry was not lonely, but a loner. He was a passionate individual who came to terms with his experience not by taking action but by detaching himself from life and spreading it before him in the operating theatre of his art. Lowry was born in Old Trafford, Manchester, in 1887, and died a few miles away in Glossop in 1976. The industrial landscape of this northern conurbation circum- scribed his whole life, but he lived long enough to see the sights of his youth - the gargantuan mills, the tapering chimneys, the rows of back-to-back terraces - give place to towering office-blocks and dual carriageways. His art can to some extent be seen as a final tribute to the Industrial Revolution, just as Constable's art had been a tribute to the pastoral English landscape just before it disappeared in the face of that same Re\olution. Lowry was the only child ofmiddle-class parents. His father (Plate i), who worked as a clerk in an estate agent's, had married, rather 'above himself, the daughter ofa master hatter. There is no evidence that either ofhis parents was interested in paint- ing; indeed, Lowry's father continued to disparage his son's efforts right up until his death in 1932. Lowry's mother seems to have been more sympathetic, however. She had established a considerable local reputation as a pianist and Lowr^^ inherited from her, as well as her china and antique clocks, his lifelong passion for music. The family's finances, which were never substantial, gradually diminished, for Lowry's father, who devoted much of his time to charitable and cultural activities, paid little heed to his career at work or to his fortunes at home. When his son showed an interest in drawing, there seems to have been no question of his being able to attend the daytime sessions at the Manchester Municipal Art School, as these were too ex- pensive; he had to content himself with evening classes. Immediately he left school at fifteen, Lowry had to earn his living as a clerk in an accountant's office, later trans- ferring in 1910 to the Pall Mall Property Company, where he worked - first as a rent collector and clerk, later rising to Chief Cashier - until his retirement in 1952. It came as a considerable surprise to the art world when it was discovered after his death in 1976 that Lowry had had a full-timejob and had only been able to paint in the evenings and at weekends. His output had been of a size and standard worthy of any professional painter and it was well known that he was a slow worker, developing each picture gradually, often for at least a year. Moreover, Lowrv' himself had often said that he had painted full-time, having been supported, he claimed, by indulgent parents during their life and by his inheritance from them after their death. He was able to stage-manage this falsehood because he had always been a very private person and by the Second World War, when his work really began to become famous, he had lost many of his old acquaintances, and the few who remained were kept scrupulously apart in case they exchanged notes. Contradictory e\idence, such as the Manchester Evening J^ews article of 1933 which concluded 'Art for Mr Lowry is the antidote to a day ofstrain at a city desk', was, wherever possible, carefully suppressed. The reason behind this elaborate deception could be found in Lowry's increasing fear, as he grew older, of being dismissed as a 'Sunday painter', a mere untrained naive. In fact, as he was at pains to tell commentators, he had attended art schools for twenty years, from 1905 to 1925, studying drawing in the life class. He did not emphasize the fact, however, that these studies were confined to evening class, five nights a week after work, at the comparatively low cost ofseven shillings and sixpence a term. In 1909 the Lowry family moved to Pendlebury. Though their home there was an ample semi-detached, the move marked a distinct fall in their social standing. Pendlebury was a lower-class, industrial suburb, much less convenient for the city centre where both Lowry and his father worked. Lowry's mother did not recover from her initial dislike of the place and she spent the last seven years of her life as a recluse, never leaving the house. Lowry, however, with the artist's alchemy, turned this base metal into gold. 'At first I disliked it. After a year I got used to it. Within a few years I began to be interested and at length I became obsessed by it and painted nothing else for thirty years.' His chronology is accurate. By 1912 he had drawn his first mill-worker, by 1915 he was designing complete mill scenes, and by 1920 his drawing style had been successfully transferred into oils. With a disregard for fact that we have come to expect from him, Lowry later concertina'd his gradual growth of interest in the industrial scene into a momentary revelation. ToJohn Rothenstein, the Director ofthe Tate, he attributed the moment ofvision to an enforced wait on Pendlebury Station in 1916, when hesuddenly saw a distant mill spill out its employees. To another commentator, he claimed that the revelation came to him while standing in Stumps Park a year earlier, in 1915: T was with a man and he said look and there I saw it. It changed my life. From then on I devoted myself to it.' Both statements undoubtedly contain some grain oftruth; they were perhaps but two instances in a sequence of revelations that constituted the unveiling ofLowry's vision ofthe industrial scene. With five nights a week devoted to academic drawing, Lowry had only the weekends free to develop a more personal style, and it is hardly surprising that his 'vision' grew slowly and hesitatingly over a period of fifteen years. Lowry's early drawings in the life class were bold and vigorous. He drew clearly, defining the shapes and planes as simple areas bound together by bold, black outlines. Something of the quality of these drawings can be seen in his SelfPortrait (Plate 18), one of the few paintings that Lowry executed from the life. The picture has suffered from damp and lost much of its colour, but one can still appreciate the rhythmic arrangement of the simplified shapes that make up the composition: the arching peak of the cap, balanced by the curves of his collars, the clean line ofthe jaw, and the firm eyes and mouth. It is a portrait of a dedicated young painter intent on his trade. Lowry reveals a very different personality when he is drawing or painting from his imagination. It is difficult to date his early drawings, but as well as the academic nudes and portraits there are a number of highly finished crowd scenes showing people gathered on beaches, in parks, or in the street. Their style is different from that of his products in the life class; it is zany and angular, and reminds one strongly of popular comic-strip or postcard illustrations. Lowry recognized his need for the discipline of his academic studies, but he was already independent enough to know that his true style lay outside artistic convention, in the world of popular culture. Many of these elaborate drawings were composed from memory, from brief notes he had made on his journeys as a rent collector or on the regular walks he used to take every Saturday night from Pendlebury to Bolton. He chose Saturday nights because they were the time of most activity in the streets. Lowry's paintings do not show the inside of the mills, they do not show the mill-hand at work (this is, incidentally, the reason why they have been dismissed by the politically motivated painters of the seventies as 'reactionary'). His art is the art ofthe public place. Evervthing depicted in his paintings can be seen by a passer-by, by an outsider, like Lowry himself. But he is most interested ofall when a personal and private event surfaces amid a crowd ofstrangers, disrupting the public calm (as in Plates 9, 13, 17 and 47). Walking, looking, and then working at home became Lowry's regular pattern of activity. 'I never paint on the spot, but look for a long time, make drawings and think.' However much they may appear so, Lowry's paintings are not straight portraits of the mill scenes of Lancashire. 'I liked in those days', Lowry said, 'to do a picture entirely out ofmy mind's eye, straight onto the canvas. It was difficult to start, but you put something down, add to it, and suddenly you find you've put in some very nice things and you're going along very well. Oh, I liked that, to do a picture . . . out of my own head on the blank canvas. I think it gets nearer the truth, because there are no facts to hamper you, and you are setting down something that comes entirely from your own imagination.' One has only to glance through this book to see how many times the same lamp-posts, chimneys, mills and figures reappear. Each ofhis pictures is, in fact, an imaginary composite ofa number ofdifferent scenes created out ofthe characters and stage props ofhis drama. His paintings are like stage sets; his mills (Plate 7) slide into position like flats, while his little figures remind one ofthose cut-out cardboard figures that slip back and forth on metal rods in Victorian toy theatres. Lowry had a great love for the theatre. Any Saturday afternoon, when it was too wet for drawing, he would go to see a play or visit a music-hall. James Fitton, the painter who studied with Lowry at evening classes, recalled how once they went together to see Fred Karno's 'Mumming Birds' - a company in which that other great master of little men, CharUe Chaplin, had performed. At least one play, Stanley Houghton's Hindle Wakes, had a direct influence on the development of Lowry's art. It was one of the first plays to deal realistically with the lives of the working-class families who lived in the Lancashire mill towns, and when Lowry saw it in 1912 he could not get it out of his mind. The stage directions for the opening scene read 'Through the window can be seen the darkening day. Against the sky an : outHne of roof-tops and chimneys.' One could almost be looking, with hindsight, at an early Lowry. However much the theatre may have opened Lowry's eyes to the richness of the industrial life around him, it is doubtful whether he would have realized its possib- ilities as a source ofsubject-matter sufficient to sustain a lifetime's career as a painter, had it not been for the precedent set by the paintings ofhis drawing master at night- school, Adolphe Valette. This French artist had arrived in Manchester in 1904 or -5. Familiar with Impressionism, he soon saw the pictorial possibilities of the all- pervasive Manchester mist. He made small oil studies ofurban scenes while standing in the street, with his paintbox supported by a strap that went round his neck, holding a small panel or canvas in the lid. These little paintings are in the true Impressionist style, delightful atmospheric studies painted with a multi-coloured array ofspontaneous brushstrokes. Between 1909 and 1913 \'alette attempted the industrial scene on a grander scale. For these large street scenes he abandoned the Impressionist style and employed a more studied technique, building up his pictures by means of carefully aligned vertical strokes that give the impression that the mist is perpetually drizzling. The buildings fade rapidly into the distance, and the figures too - whether pedestrians, cabmen or men pushing carts - are reduced to dark silhouettes that pale as they recede into the mist. Though Valette refused to teach Lowry to paint (he maintained that only drawing could be taught), the younger artist must have learnt a great deal from the example of these paintings. He often used the same short, vertical brushstroke, but with greater variety (see Plate 21), and used many of the same street props. What is lacking in \^alette's paintings, however, is the sense of occasion, the moment ofdramatic tension that inspired and bound together so many of Lowr\''s pictures. 'Accidents interest me', Lowry once commented T've a very queer mind you know. ; What fascinates me is the people they attract, the patterns these people form and the atmosphere of tension when something has happened.' Sudden Illness (1920; Plate 17) A is one of the very first of Lowry's paintings to reveal his mature style. small crowd has gathered on an exposed strip of road. There is hardly any warmth in the picture except for a lingering golden tint in the sky. The subject itselfis enough to send a chill