One of the most interesting things about British art in the 1920s was the blurred distinction that arose between art and design. This can be seen in all kinds of areas, from textiles to advertising to architecture. In the field of pattern papers, the Curwen Press was at the forefront, commissioning designs from artists such as Edward Bawden, Margaret Calkin James, Claude Lovat Fraser, Albert Rutherston, Enid Marx, and Eric Ravilious. Curwen were so proud of these papers that in 1928 they published the delicious A Specimen Book of Pattern Papers Designed for and in Use at the Curwen Press, with an Introduction by Paul Nash. I don't, sadly, have a copy of this extremely rare and costly publication. But I do have a copy of The Woodcut: An Annual for 1927. Like the Specimen Book, this was printed at Curwen and published by the Fleuron. And it contains an essay by Paul Nash (identical with the introduction? I'm not sure, but probably) entitled Woodcut Patterns. It is illustrated with two tipped-in colour samples, one by Enid Marx, the other by Eric Ravilious, while the boards of the journal itself are covered with a design by Nash.
Paul Nash, Wood engraved design for the cover of The Woodcut, 1927
Paul Nash writes that, "I have become lately more interested in woodcut patterns than in woodcut pictures. It is always a relief to be rid of the responsibility of representation. To concern oneself solely with the problem of formal relationships is to escape into a new world. Here one is in touch with pure reality..."
Eric Ravilious, Wood engraved pattern paper for the Curwen Press
from The Woodcut, 1927
Nash considers block printing on textiles, including not just wood blocks but also the fabrics decorated with linocut designs being produced under the name Footprints at the Hammersmith workshop established by Celandine Kennington to supply Elspeth Little's shop Modern Textiles. He also discusses block-printed wallpapers (noting that in France fine artists such as Marie Laurencin and Raoul Dufy have "produced some charming designs"), and paper covers for books.
Enid Marx, Wood engraved pattern paper for the Curwen Press
from The Woodcut, 1927
In the field of textiles printed from wood blocks, Paul Nash singles out Phyllis Barron ("a true artist as well as a craftswoman) and her two colleagues Dorothy Larcher and Enid Marx. Marx was only just launched on her distinguished career as a designer, having failed her diploma at the Royal College of Art because of her allegiance to abstraction. Of her work Paul Nash writes, "Miss Marx's designs have the character of a fugue in music. Another quality which distinguishes them from the majority of textile designs is the peculiarly rigid movement of the units, which are not conceived in fluid waves or undulations, or as an efflorescence, but are more like the delicate architecture of birds, building with rather awkward shaped sticks."
Enid Marx, Wood engraved pattern paper for Chatto and Windus
from Signature, 1936
Enid Marx, Wood engraved pattern paper for the Curwen Press
from Signature, 1936
His conclusion is that, "we should begin to consider patterns as important as pictures."
4 comments:
There must be something about the human brain that makes patterns, even repeating ones as in textiles, so satisfying. But then we tend to discern patterns even where they don't exist, which can be a problem in the sciences. I haven't seen much 20th century British art on this side of the Atlantic and these posts are a good tutorial.
Probably every country has work this interesting to share with the world - until the internet came along, how could we do it? To English people interested in the arts, these names - especially Paul Nash, but also Enid Marx and Eric Ravilious - are part of our heritage. But, as I suggested in my post about Edward Bawden a while back, none of these names made the leap into international recognition. So I'm really pleased to introduce them to you, Jane, and by extension to all kindred spirits who happen across this post. As for the human brain and patterns, my view is that all human art has its origins in the entoptic phenomena at the back of the retina that we see when we are very tired or about to go to sleep. These are patterns from which pictures are waiting to emerge.
I just came across your much appreciated blogpost - I got some of these extraordinary papers from a bookbinding supply in London, and dedicated them a notebook series called "Curwen Notes" (I wrote about them here). I started to give out short notes with the books with some information on how, when & for whom these papers were created, and on the artist who designed them. To my regret, online information is sparse. I couldn't find anything on Althea Willoughby, for example - would you have a hint for me?
Hi Tulibri - I don't know much about Althea Willoughby, beyond her dates (1904-1982) and that she designed pattern papers for Curwen and posters for London Transport. Here's what it says about her in Peppin and Micklethwait's Dictionary of British Book Illustrators: The Twentieth Century (John Murray, 1983). "Book illustrator and decorator, wood engraver, and painter of ceramic tiles. She illustrated three books in the Ariel series of individual poems published by Faber and Faber in the characteristic format of a small black and white title-page drawing and one full-page drawing and one line-block illustration in black and three individually printed colours. Her graphic style was restrained, and her works possessed quiet imaginative conviction." There's one reference given: Johnson and Greutzner, The Studio 100 (1930), p.464.
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