If you haven't been, you must...
Peacocks. Sunflowers. PreRaphaelite hair. Morris wallpaper. Du Maurier Punch cartoons. Liberty dresses.
What more could a girl want? My heart is full ...
Here's a taster from YouTube:
The Cult of Beauty: The Aesthetic Movement 1860-1900
I only wish I'd been before I submitted my Dorian Gray essay, ah well...
[http://thisbutterflymind.blogspot.com]
Showing posts with label Morris. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Morris. Show all posts
Wednesday, 11 May 2011
Friday, 30 July 2010
Daytripping
This week, I have been a daytripper.
First, to the sea: craving sea air and the sound of gulls, we took the train to Whitstable on the Kent coast, for shingle beaches, weathered tongue and groove beach huts, oyster shells galore, and old fashioned pubs.
Oh, and icecream and chips, of course.
It was good for the soul.
Don't you love those blues and pinks? The colour palette is very satisfying:
Then to something more bucolic. A picnic at the Red House in Bexleyheath, where dizzy bees swam lazily among heavy apple tress.
The Red House was the home of William Morris, and is in the process of being restored (I think, there was certainly a lot of hammering going on): the mellow red stone is just beautiful, and the gardens homey and interesting.
Love that "dusty grey" colour - shame about the prosaic name!
The house holds some real treasures, stained glass by Edward Burne-Jones, enormous faux medieval furniture by Philip Webb and embroidered tapestries by Janey Morris, but was overall a little disappointing - we had expected it to have more furniture, displayed in the usual National Trust style as if the family had just left the room. And the William Morris Gallery in Walthamstow has much much more on Morris, Marshall, Faulkner & Co. despite Morris having lived at the Red House during its inception.
However, the building and grounds were just gorgeous, and a cuppa at nearby Danson House set us up no end.
Holidays rock!
First, to the sea: craving sea air and the sound of gulls, we took the train to Whitstable on the Kent coast, for shingle beaches, weathered tongue and groove beach huts, oyster shells galore, and old fashioned pubs.
Oh, and icecream and chips, of course.
It was good for the soul.
Then to something more bucolic. A picnic at the Red House in Bexleyheath, where dizzy bees swam lazily among heavy apple tress.
The Red House was the home of William Morris, and is in the process of being restored (I think, there was certainly a lot of hammering going on): the mellow red stone is just beautiful, and the gardens homey and interesting.
Love that "dusty grey" colour - shame about the prosaic name!
The house holds some real treasures, stained glass by Edward Burne-Jones, enormous faux medieval furniture by Philip Webb and embroidered tapestries by Janey Morris, but was overall a little disappointing - we had expected it to have more furniture, displayed in the usual National Trust style as if the family had just left the room. And the William Morris Gallery in Walthamstow has much much more on Morris, Marshall, Faulkner & Co. despite Morris having lived at the Red House during its inception.
However, the building and grounds were just gorgeous, and a cuppa at nearby Danson House set us up no end.
Holidays rock!
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