IN the autumn of 1817, the French painter Louis Francia recently returned to his native Calais from London where he had been honing his skills in the English art of watercolour, spied a tall, thin teenager sketching on the quay. Peeking over the lad’s shoulder, he was immediately struck by the quality of his watercolour sketches—and not surprised to discover that he was English.
The lad’s name was Richard Parkes Bonington and his parents had just moved to Calais to set up a tulle-manufacturing company, joining an exodus of Nottingham lacemakers put out of business by mechanisation. Richard Bonington Snr was not a lacemaker by trade; he had previously thrown up a sinecure as Nottingham’s gaoler to pursue a precarious career as an artist and drawing master, before selling up to try his luck at tulle- and lacemaking across the Channel.
For his 15-year-old son, who had inherited his father’s passion for art, the move from land-locked Nottingham to the Calais coast, with its exhilarating expanse of sea and sky, was a formative experience: in a few short years, he would become one of the greatest, if least celebrated, painters of seascapes in European art.
‘Who is R. P. Bonington?’ an English critic demanded only eight years later on coming across his paintings at the British Institution. ‘We never saw his name in any catalogue before and yet here are pictures that would grace the foremost name in landscape art.’
Denne historien er fra July 08, 2020-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Denne historien er fra July 08, 2020-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Kitchen garden cook - Apples
'Sweet and crisp, apples are the epitome of autumn flavour'
The original Mr Rochester
Three classic houses in North Yorkshire have come to the market; the owner of one inspired Charlotte Brontë to write Jane Eyre
Get it write
Desks, once akin to instruments of torture for scribes, have become cherished repositories of memories and secrets. Matthew Dennison charts their evolution
'Sloes hath ben my food'
A possible paint for the Picts and a definite culprit in tea fraud, the cheek-suckingly sour sloe's spiritual home is indisputably in gin, says John Wright
Souvenirs of greatness
FOR many years, some large boxes have been stored and forgotten in the dark recesses of the garage. Unpacked last week, the contents turned out to be pots: some, perhaps, nearing a century old—dense terracotta, of interesting provenance.
Plants for plants' sake
The garden at Hergest Croft, Herefordshire The home of Edward Banks The Banks family is synonymous with an extraordinary collection of trees and shrubs, many of which are presents from distinguished friends, garnered over two centuries. Be prepared to be amazed, says Charles Quest-Ritson
Capturing the castle
Seventy years after Christian Dior’s last fashion show in Scotland, the brand returned under creative director Maria Grazia Chiuri for a celebratory event honouring local craftsmanship, the beauty of the land and the Auld Alliance, explains Kim Parker
Nature's own cathedral
Our tallest native tree 'most lovely of all', the stately beech creates a shaded environment that few plants can survive. John Lewis-Stempel ventures into the enchanted woods
All that money could buy
A new book explores the lost riches of London's grand houses. Its author, Steven Brindle, looks at the residences of plutocrats built by the nouveaux riches of the late-Victorian and Edwardian ages
In with the old
Diamonds are meant to sparkle in candlelight, but many now gather dust in jewellery boxes. To wear them today, we may need to reimagine them, as Hetty Lintell discovers with her grandmother's jewellery
