Tag Archives: Exhibition

Trapdoor in a Locked Down World


The Museum of Mystery and Imagination

The Allsop Gallery, Bridport Arts Centre, 15 July-20 August, 2021

Imagine if Marc Chagall, Max Ernst, and Giorgio de Chirico had been born in the British Isles; if they had still turned out to be artists (and that presupposes that artists, and not just poets, are born and made: are natured, not nurtured). Would they have created their distinctive visionary blend of Surrealist and Symbolist art with an Anglo-Saxon sensibility? So, indirectly, this exhibition speculates – that there is a particular British form of these traditions that, it is argued, predates them. It is glimpsed in the works of William Blake, Samuel Palmer, Lewis Carroll, David Jones, and Leonora Carrington – tangible influences in the works on display here. An eclectic exhibition of paintings and ceramics, populated by strange creatures and creations from the fringes of consciousness. It is like walking into a fairy tale forest, or Cocteau’s castle from La Belle et La Bête: this is a place of chimerical metamorphosis, and ambiguous, amphibious dream-like imagery. People and animal blend into fluid hybrids, take on iconic potency in their postures and expressions. Some have the stained-glass clarity of tarot cards, or the rude energy of church grotesques. The natural world cross-fertilises with the human. There is a sexual frisson to many, but the female gaze dominates. The images suggest a chthonic female experience erupting into the waking world, defiant and empowered. A cat and a mermaid make strangely compatible companions. A naked woman hovering between two chairs explodes with flowers. In an age of heavy realism, this celebration of the imagination – blossoming out of the enforced interregnum of lockdown – is a welcome escape hatch.   

Kevan Manwaring, 7 August 2021

Thank you to the staff of Bridport Arts Centre, who kindly let me in to view the exhibition while building work was under way.


A Rag, a Bone, and a Hank of Hair

Spellbound: Magic, Witchcraft & Ritual exhibition – a review


This promising looking exhibition at the ever-delightful Ashmolean in Oxford sought to explore the history of witchcraft over eight centuries through material culture, and examine how magical thinking still permeates life in the twenty first. Certainly it had on display some very impressive artefacts, including Dr Dee’s famous black scrying mirror (and swish purple crystal pendant), a 16th Century ceremonial sword with a protective crystal pommel, a 19th Century ‘witches ladder’ from Somerset made of feathers and twine, a 12/13th Century human heart encased in lead and silver, an early 20th Century poppet impaled by a stiletto, a treatise by the Witchfinder General Matthew Hopkins, a hoard of magical rings, and more.  I found the early manuscripts particularly fascinating, and it was a shame there was not more on the magical use of language. Apart from a thrilling invocation to Astaroth, the exhibition did not delve enough into notions of gramarye for my liking, which considering its textual title, was disappointing. Clearly, physical artefacts have more ‘affect’, but (recording of the Astaroth spell, and the Music of the Spheres apart) more could have been done with sound, e.g. audio interviews of modern witches or field recordings of rituals, banishings, and so forth. There was the inevitable account of a witchcraft trail and confession, and these at least were dramatised. And yet most exhibits focused on negative portrayals of witchcraft through the centuries – classic engravings of hags (sorry, ‘post-menopausal women’) riding goats backwards to sabbats, conjuring up foul potions, stealing babies, and other misogynistic stereotypes. These are all extant of course, and are an important part of the socio-historical record, but it would have balanced things redemptively to have had modern witches discuss their beliefs and practices, as a counter-spell to the centuries of fear and loathing. Witchcraft is, after all, a living tradition, with thousands, if not millions, of practitioners around the world, whether Wiccan, traditional, hedgewitch, or otherwise. There was no parsing of magic into ‘black’, ‘white’, ‘green’ and so on. Accounts of how it was used in the Second World War for instance, or in more recent ecological protests, would have been resonant. The exhibition seemed determined to keep witchcraft in the past, as a historical phenomenon to be scrutinised academically. The introduction announced it to be all ‘imaginative fantasy’ even before visitors had a chance to make up their own mind. The efforts to explore magical thinking felt half-hearted – a fascinating aspect reduced to walking under a ladder. The commissioned artistic responses were interesting, and added a frisson of the contemporary, but it seemed all too cursory. What would have situated it more firmly in topical discourse would have been a section of representations of witchcraft in popular culture (TV, film, novels, music, computer games, cosplay, online memes, and so forth). There is no shortage of examples after all (Circe to Harry Potter; Morgana to Sabrina: the teenage witch, et al). This was done in the 2015-16 ‘Celts: art and identity’ exhibition at the British Museum and managed to avoid a sense of populist ‘dumbing down’. Space for such a display could have been made by removing the redundant spiritualist exhibit (which has nothing really to do with witchcraft, and seems to have been placed at the end of the exhibit merely as a form of dispelling or discrediting all domestic ‘sorcery’ – as reified by the Fraudulent Mediums Act of 1951; that may have repealed the Witchcraft Act of 1735, but it did not extirpate magical thinking from modern life: indeed, it made the public practise of witchcraft possible, if not socially acceptable). Ultimately, the curators had to make decisions based upon space, availability, and relevance, and it is far easier to pick holes in something once it has been manifest. The Ashmolean should be applauded for such bold programming. As a spring board for discussion, ‘Spellbound’ offers a stimulating introduction into cultures of enchantment.

Copyright ©Kevan Manwaring 2018

Spellbound finishes 6 January 2019. Booking recommended: https://www.ashmolean.org/spellbound