A rainy Sunday was forecast and I had no appetite for sitting at home. An indoor activity was the obvious solution and I took the first bus through to Glasgow to be at the spectacular Kelvingrove Museum for the doors opening. The rain was off when I arrived in the city centre and I decided to walk the mile and a half along Sauchiehall Street rather than use the subway. That would have cost me a couple of quid and I actually made a profit by riding on Shanks pony as I found a gleaming pound coin on the pavement.
I reached the grand museum and hung around until being admitted. The red sandstone building and its collections are owned by the people of Glasgow and construction was financed by profits from the 1888 International Exhibition of Science, Art & Industry hosted by the city, along with public subscription. Kelvingrove Park was home to a similar extravaganza in 1901 and the new museum and gallery took centre stage - which is why the ornate entrance faces the park rather than the street. It was opened to the general public the following year. There is no truth in the urban myth about the architect jumping to his death when he visited the completed building only to find it had been erected the wrong way round! The spectacular frontage was inspired by Spanish church towers and the palace-like interior was engineered to allow music to echo through the arches and connecting corridors. Indeed, the names of 36 composers decorate the main hall, which has contained a pipe organ since the early days. Concerts were held during the 1901 exhibition and the instrument is still played regularly today. The museum is also notable for being one of the first public buildings in Glasgow to employ electric illumination. I strode into the cavernous entrance hall and marvelled at how we are able to enjoy such an amazing sight free of charge. I had a good few hours ahead of me and hoped to get round all 22 galleries. I had visited a few times before but it was always a case of wandering around the ground floor for a while without any real opportunity to explore upstairs. I remember seeing a very interesting AC/DC special exhibition in the basement and one on dinosaur eggs that wasn't so enthralling. While the place was still fairly quiet, I nipped upstairs to take a photo of the main hall from the perspective of the balcony. It was the first time I'd seen the floor space left completely open. Previously there had been tables for tea and coffee. On one occasion a string ensemble were playing. I must say I liked the minimalist look. Perhaps a hangover from the Covid restrictions?
I made my way into the gallery showcasing the work of an esteemed group of home grown artists known as the Glasgow Boys. Now regarded as the most significant group of British painters from late Victorian times, their work was widely displayed and admired in Europe and America. Their efforts helped put Glasgow on the cultural map and encouraged following generations of local talent to have confidence in their own abilities and push the boundaries. A loose-knit coterie of a couple of dozen, they all knew each other personally and were bonded by the city where they lived and worked. They developed a distinctive style and were drawn towards similar subjects, beginning with rural outdoor scenes. Later, the more fashionable aspects of Glasgow life found favour and their output relied heavily on colour, texture and pattern. By the turn of the 20th century, few of the Glasgow Boys remained in the city as they inevitably sought pastures new and followed their individual paths. Fortune took them far and wide and in many cases brought wealth and international status. But as the last survivor Robert Macaulay Stevenson observed, we were just the Boys. Famous paintings are a pleasant distraction, but I am naturally inclined to seek out social and industrial history when browsing a general purpose museum. Transport too, although Glasgow has a dedicated facility for this interest on the banks of the Clyde. I crossed the hall and entered the gallery that tells the story of Glasgow's transformation into the second city of the British Empire. Everyone knows Glasgow was a major force in shipbuilding and that obviously required huge quantities of iron and steel, in turn produced by furnaces consuming mountains of coal. Cranes, boilers and locomotives were also forged within the wider area. The giant St Rollox depot at Springburn was established in the 1850s and built stock for the Caledonian Railway Company. It continued in one form or another until as recently as 2018. It is human nature to yearn for the past. The so-called good old days. Glasgow however had horrendous problems with overcrowding and insanitary living conditions. A lack of health & safety led to many men being maimed or killed in accidents at work. Those who did reach old age often had their health blighted by this stage and in many respects it's good that we have moved on. People were still living in tenements without indoor baths and toilets until the early 70s! Unthinkable nowadays.
Kelvingrove Park was carved out from a former estate and purchased by the city authorities in 1852. It provided a relief from the appalling standard of housing many local residents had to endure. One of the first large-scale examples of Victorian urban parkland, Kelvingrove hosted - as previously stated - a major public exhibition in 1901 for which the current museum was created. A similar event was staged a decade later - the Scottish Exhibition of National History, Art and Industry. This time the museum was excluded from the official programme and presumably continued to function as normal, no doubt benefitting from the flow of visitors to the various themes dispersed around the park. An older museum did stand here in Victorian times. Kelvingrove Mansion - dating from 1783 - became the City Industrial Museum in 1870 but was demolished to make way for the new building. I spotted a lovely photo upstairs of the old parkland with the original museum in place. The industrial gallery had a fair amount of space devoted to the concept of Red Clydeside. The city was a hotbed of political activity and a centre of socialist thinking throughout the 20th century. Eventually the stranglehold of the trades unions was broken and workers rights are much more easily eroded these days. A sad situation, as many people fought long and hard - often at personal expense - to gain better conditions and working hours for future generations. Imagine if you had emigrated from Scotland in 1980 and lost touch with the political scene. Coming back today would be a real eye-opener with scarcely a Labour MP to be find in the entire country, let alone the biggest city. Had you suggested such a scenario prior to your departure, passport control would have been instructed to prevent you boarding a plane or ship in order to give the men in white coats time to arrive and drag you away to the asylum in a straitjacket! It's a different land these days. I wandered through the natural history displays, always popular among family groups. There was a good selection of British birds as well as other stuffed animals from around the globe. It's always harrowing to see examples of extinct species, particularly when the reason is galling, like the feathers being considered fashion accessories.
I headed upstairs and was confronted by a statue of the King himself. Elvis was decked out in a fetching blue suit and he sported a flashing halo. It was a vision I hadn't expected to see. In fact, it left me all shook up! Much of the upper floor is given over to artwork but there was a large gallery tracing the history of warfare and the all-too-overlooked consequences of such actions. World cultures were also celebrated and I read an interesting account of the tea trail, which I suppose is a western incursion into other ways of life. Another exhibit I enjoyed was an immersive multimedia recreation of a rain forest scene. Then it was off for a swatch at the canvas. The most prized offering has a little room to itself and is entitled Christ of Saint John of the Cross. The world famous painting by Spanish surrealist Salvador Dali depicts Jesus looking down on a shoreline fishing scene, but without his crown of thorns. Folklore insists that Dali's decision to show the son of God without the usual marks of crucifixion was made following a dream in which he saw a cross-bound Christ above the Catalonian coast where he (Dali) was living at the time. The work was purchased by the Glasgow Corporation in 1952 for £8200. Today it is reckoned to be worth a cool £60 million. Who says investing in art doesn't pay? Well actually it doesn't, until you sell it. Except you can't really flog such an iconic painting held in the public sector. I wasn't able to capture a worthwhile photo due to the oblong shape of the frame and the trapezoidal effect of photographing such objects at close quarters on a smartphone. After a spell at the St Mungo Museum of Religious Life & Art, the Dali masterpiece returned to the Kelvingrove in 2006 following a major refurbishment of the premises. The Dutch Masters gallery has a Rembrandt as its centrepiece. Man in Armour shows a thoughtful young man weighed down by battle dress. It was painted right at the end of the great man's career. I've seen the world-famous Night Watch in Amsterdam. Breathtaking both in size and detail. However, it was another Dutch painting from the 17th century that really caught my eye here in Glasgow. A Fire at Night by Egbert van der Poel - described as "the best painter of fire in the Netherlands" - yo, my man! A group of houses by a church alongside the canal are brightly illuminated. The house in foreground is burning fiercely and flames shoot up into the night sky. A crowd of figures are escaping with whatever furniture they can carry as they seek the safety of the canal bank. There are also boats in foreground. Quite a dramatic episode! The French gallery featured luminaries such as Monet and Cezanne but homespun talent awaited me in the next room. It was time to discover the Scottish Colourists.
John Duncan Fergusson, Samuel John Peploe, George Leslie Hunter and Francis Campbell Boileau Cadell rank alongside the Glasgow Boys as the most internationally significant group of artists to emerge from Scotland. They never worked collaboratively in the creative sense but knew each other socially. The "Colourists" name was bestowed upon them well into their career, after it had been used in the title of a joint exhibition. From around 1900 to 1930, the Colourists breathed new life in Scottish art. Their vigorously painted canvases were full of light and a celebration of life itself. Yet many critics at the time regarded their output as too garish and modern. So it wasn't rock n' roll that introduced the concept of shocking the establishment! The landscapes of Scotland provided inspiration for the boys throughout their careers but they also spent time in France, gaining acclaim for their atmospheric seaside depictions. They all painted women and pictured below is The Orange Blind (circa 1925) by Cadell, who was known for portraying elegant and fashionable females. From the Colourists gallery, I passed through a doorway leading to a display of general Scottish artwork. I liked the Balmoral scene by Francis Chantrey, where cattle in the foreground peer curiously at the viewer. The castle is seen in the distance upon a sunlit moor. To change the mood a little, John Hassall's rousing Bannockburn shows a Scottish force assembling under the Saltire and Lion Rampant. The accompanying text points out that in reality, warriors in the days of Bruce and Wallace would not have worn tartan, despite what movies like Braveheart would have us believe. They actually looked pretty much like the English soldiers. I admired a portrait of Bruce and again the information panel provided balance, stating the mythical hero of legend was in fact driven by political motives rather than a burning sense of patriotism. Oh well, it seems these guys were flawed like the leaders of today.
I finished off my visit by viewing the organ at close quarters and popping down to the gift shop, where I bought a handful of postcards. As I emerged back into daylight, I had a stroke of luck as the sun penetrated the previously grey sky to light up the museum perfectly for photographs. After a quick lunch on a bench, I began the trek back to the city centre, this time taking the Argyll Street route instead of Sauchiehall Street. The two famous thoroughfares begin at the museum and diverge before running roughly parallel. I wanted to pop into Richer Sounds hi-fi shop to check if they had a soundbar I'd spotted on their website. Often it's desirable to inspect audio equipment in the flesh before committing to purchase. Even better if you have the chance to hear the speakers in action. Unfortunately it was out of stock and I had a quick wander around the city centre before caching a bus home. It had been a productive day and I was glad I'd had the time to do the whole museum justice and have a good look round the regular collection. I always keep an eye out for special exhibitions and this invariably means having a look around other galleries as well, although your focus is naturally on the main event. The Kelvingrove is certainly a world-class venue offering a wide variety of material. More power to Glasgow!