Catalogue
Shân Lancaster reveals mysteries about this famous artist that have been solved in the making of this catalogue
The Constable and Brighton exhibition at Brighton Museum & Art Gallery grew from my research into John Constable’s Brighton lodgings and studio from 1824 to 1828, a period during which he had a close relationship with the resort town. His address, No 9 Mrs Sober’s Gardens, was known from his correspondence, but locating it now was difficult.
I solved the puzzle by cross-referencing people and places in letters that Constable wrote with contemporaneous local directories and maps, Land Registry deeds and local newspaper archives.
The artist’s landlady, Mrs Sober, proved to be a well-documented local personality, as did John James Masquerier, a fellow artist who was Constable’s next-door neighbour. Using information from these sources, my search narrowed to a house in Sillwood Road, Brighton, owned by a contemporary artist called Peter Harrap, who was thrilled to hear about the connection. He offered to help so we joined forces.
When our case for the location was accepted and published in the Burlington Magazine, Harrap negotiated a blue plaque for his house and was commissioned to curate an exhibition about Constable and Brighton at Brighton Museum & Art Gallery.
The exhibition is based on sequencing that Harrap worked out for pictures done by Constable on successive walks in Brighton. Building on that process, art historians and Constable experts Ian Warrell and Anne Lyles (both formerly from Tate) tracked down three Brighton beach works by Constable that are now on public display for the first time.
Sue Berry studied the topography of the period, identifying buildings and other landmarks in Constable’s works. His affinity with windmills – Constable was a miller’s son – meant that he sketched many of the mills dotting the South Downs and the locations pictured have long intrigued researchers.
Now, thanks to Berry, a rare contemporary town map, the British Newspaper Archive and study of contemporary deeds, all the Constable mills have been firmly pinpointed.
Another mystery was Williamstown Strand, a small seashore painting dated to the right timeframe, but not resembling Brighton. A Christie’s catalogue of 1988 called it “famously enigmatic”, as no ship or location explaining its title could be traced.
It turned out that Henry Fauntleroy, the last banker to be hanged for fraud in England, was a possible missing link. I found a page of an 1824 Morning Post newspaper featuring a report of Fauntleroy’s trial, which also had an account of a shipwreck off the coast of Dublin, with the headline “Stranded at Williamstown”.
Fauntleroy was a near neighbour in Brighton and Constable’s letters show that the artist was following the trial in the Morning Post. He was also looking for marine subjects at the time. The description of the stranding closely matched the sketch, so it seemed likely that Constable drew the sketch and its scribbled title as a visual note to himself, an aide memoire for a later picture.
A last lightbulb moment came at Harrap’s home, as the catalogue authors were discussing a message from Constable scholar Conal Shields that suggested they study a picture that had intrigued him for years. The image is known as Houses at Hampstead, but Shields believed it showed Brighton. The question was where in Brighton?
Warrell, a Brighton resident, suddenly said to Harrap: “Have you looked out of your back door lately?”
Cue a dash for the small, early 19th-century street behind Sillwood Road and confirmation that the buildings there closely matched the bow fronts, arched doorways and distinctive brickwork in the painting of Hampstead.
Although the catalogue has been printed, research on all fronts is ongoing.
Shân Lancaster is a writer and researcher.
Constable and Brighton is at Brighton Museum & Art Gallery until 8 October
I solved the puzzle by cross-referencing people and places in letters that Constable wrote with contemporaneous local directories and maps, Land Registry deeds and local newspaper archives.
The artist’s landlady, Mrs Sober, proved to be a well-documented local personality, as did John James Masquerier, a fellow artist who was Constable’s next-door neighbour. Using information from these sources, my search narrowed to a house in Sillwood Road, Brighton, owned by a contemporary artist called Peter Harrap, who was thrilled to hear about the connection. He offered to help so we joined forces.
When our case for the location was accepted and published in the Burlington Magazine, Harrap negotiated a blue plaque for his house and was commissioned to curate an exhibition about Constable and Brighton at Brighton Museum & Art Gallery.
The exhibition is based on sequencing that Harrap worked out for pictures done by Constable on successive walks in Brighton. Building on that process, art historians and Constable experts Ian Warrell and Anne Lyles (both formerly from Tate) tracked down three Brighton beach works by Constable that are now on public display for the first time.
Sue Berry studied the topography of the period, identifying buildings and other landmarks in Constable’s works. His affinity with windmills – Constable was a miller’s son – meant that he sketched many of the mills dotting the South Downs and the locations pictured have long intrigued researchers.
Now, thanks to Berry, a rare contemporary town map, the British Newspaper Archive and study of contemporary deeds, all the Constable mills have been firmly pinpointed.
Another mystery was Williamstown Strand, a small seashore painting dated to the right timeframe, but not resembling Brighton. A Christie’s catalogue of 1988 called it “famously enigmatic”, as no ship or location explaining its title could be traced.
It turned out that Henry Fauntleroy, the last banker to be hanged for fraud in England, was a possible missing link. I found a page of an 1824 Morning Post newspaper featuring a report of Fauntleroy’s trial, which also had an account of a shipwreck off the coast of Dublin, with the headline “Stranded at Williamstown”.
Fauntleroy was a near neighbour in Brighton and Constable’s letters show that the artist was following the trial in the Morning Post. He was also looking for marine subjects at the time. The description of the stranding closely matched the sketch, so it seemed likely that Constable drew the sketch and its scribbled title as a visual note to himself, an aide memoire for a later picture.
A last lightbulb moment came at Harrap’s home, as the catalogue authors were discussing a message from Constable scholar Conal Shields that suggested they study a picture that had intrigued him for years. The image is known as Houses at Hampstead, but Shields believed it showed Brighton. The question was where in Brighton?
Warrell, a Brighton resident, suddenly said to Harrap: “Have you looked out of your back door lately?”
Cue a dash for the small, early 19th-century street behind Sillwood Road and confirmation that the buildings there closely matched the bow fronts, arched doorways and distinctive brickwork in the painting of Hampstead.
Although the catalogue has been printed, research on all fronts is ongoing.
Shân Lancaster is a writer and researcher.
Constable and Brighton is at Brighton Museum & Art Gallery until 8 October