Window Dressing
In early January, Terroir exhorted us all to ‘Keep looking out of the window’. In February, we paid a visit to Bath and discovered that looking at the window was equally enjoyable and informative.
Our window safari started with a visit to an exhibition of Gwen John’s paintings at Bath’s Holburne Museum. This may seem like an unnecessary diversion from the subject of windows, but please stick with us. Up until our visit to Bath, our perception of Gwendolen Mary John (1876 – 1939) was of a woman overshadowed by her younger brother Augustus (1878 - 1961). Many exhibitions seemed to include a token work by Gwen to illustrate how wonderful she was but how neglected, implying that her sex and her sibling were largely responsible.
Sadly, however, we – a trio of Team Terroirs plus other visitors with whom we chatted – were in agreement that Gwen’s work, as exhibited on the Holburne’s walls, was underwhelming. We did try very hard to like or at least appreciate it, but on re-grouping, we were unanimous in our disappointment. Two of us, however, were agreed on which one, if push came to shove, we would take home with us. Here it is: a view of Gwen’s apartment in Paris, apparently focussed on her dormer window.
What is so interesting is that the painting isn’t about the view from the window; it’s intriguing for what she arranged around the window - the flowers, the table and chair, the parasol. It tells us a lot about Gwen herself and her use of a window to light her story. The view through the frame and from that window seems irrelevant.
Returning to the city, you could say that Bath is all about buildings. The tonnage of oolitic limestone which has been marshalled into bath-houses, temples, abbeys, pump houses, hospitals, streets and crescents gives Bath its character and …
… the stone its name. Bath stone is Bath stone whether it’s in Bristol, Claverton, Weston-super-Mare, Reading or London.
But how many of us, when viewing the Royal Crescent, the Circus or the Assembly Rooms have given serious thought to the windows? Just Georgian sash windows surely? Apologies to architects and window fanatics who are by now screaming at this blog, but how many of the rest of us really appreciate the importance of windows in the overall impact of any building, let alone a Georgian Bath terrace? Is the Crescent’s geometry and overall classical proportions (image above) the most important aspect? Or are we all Gwen Johns? Is the significance of the parasol - aka columns/balustrades/railings etc - greater than that of the windows?
Let’s look a little closer. This is how unsympathetic window replacements can ruin the symmetry and eye candy of a run of paned Georgian sashes!! The windows with ‘pelmets’ and single glass pane sashes stand out the worst. Of course that brown wood front door and a load of motor cars don’t help either.
Other modifications are available. Here are some of our favourites.:
Right - is this the asymetrical impact of the window tax?
Below left - add a balcony; below centre - add a fire escape; below right - add some colour
Thankfully, many of the fanlights still seem to be original.
While wandering along a footpath behind The Circus, we came upon a new window, a sort of Narnian style entrance to a parallel universe. We entered though a wooden door and climbed to a viewing platform before descending into the 18th century, as represented by the restored ‘Georgian Garden’. The original 1760s back garden to No. 4 The Circus was, of course designed to be viewed from the windows at the back of the house. The 20th century restoration is entered via the back gate (we leave you to draw your own conclusions on significance of this), but entry at all is thanks to the Bath Archaeological Society who excavated the plot and revealed three garden layouts, all pre the 1920s. Restoration was completed in 1990, based on a plan of c1770.
Of course, not all Bath’s windows are Georgian. Here we have the gothic windows of Bath Abbey.
But we leave you with some very serious window (or perhaps column) dressing back at the Holburne Museum.
Lubaina Himid’s exhibition, ‘The lost threads’, connects the visitor to a very different time and place via the activities of Dutch traders, whose mercantile endeavours with Javanese fabrics left a bold mark on the textile designs of West Africa (https://www.holburne.org/opening-soon-lubaina-himid-lost-threads/). Himid discusses issues of cultural identity, female labour, colonial trading and enslavement, topics which were also touched on in the novels and letters of Jane Austen, another of Bath’s more famous visitors.