The last time I visited York Art Gallery I had to pay to get in, which means it must have been before 2002. In that year, York Museums Trust (YMT ) was set up to run the gallery, along with several other sites in the city, and decided to drop the £2 charge.
Thirteen years on and it’s a case of plus ça change. The trust has reintroduced entry charges (£7.50 for adults or £10-£20 for a YMT Card that offers free entry to three venues for a year), despite the efforts of the local authority to stop it charging.
Entry fees or not, the gallery couldn’t be more different. My overriding memory of it pre-2002 is of dark spaces, and I’m not even sure I realised there was an upstairs section to visit.
The gallery has been transformed by an £8m redevelopment. A fake ceiling has been removed, revealing the original Victorian roof, and a new mezzanine gallery is now filled with natural light. A first-floor extension has increased the exhibition space by 60%.
Downstairs, the foyer has been opened up to house payment desks as well as a smart shop.
A cafe now occupies a space immediately to the right of the entrance that was previously used as an archive. The three galleries are glass-fronted, offering visitors queuing to pay a glimpse of what lies ahead, and a glass corridor means the environmental standards adhere to international loan requirements.
I pity the poor visitor service assistants who have to spend all day closing these doors after visitors though.
Other physical changes include a new artists’ garden in a space that was previously inaccessible and 300 double hexagon-shaped ceramic tiles, inspired by York’s unique street paving, on display on the exterior wall. Both these are designed to hint at the exciting collection inside.
Local connection
I visited York Art Gallery just a week after it reopened on 1 August, and the new exhibitions showcase its broad collection.
As part of its reopening, a number of artists have been commissioned to create artworks and there are also new acquisitions on show.
I started my visit in the three downstairs galleries. In response to audience research – which found people wanted to see more work depicting the city by local artists – the left-hand gallery has a display titled A Picture of York.
It includes picks from the Evelyn Award, a competition that ran from 1950 to 1962 with the aim of bringing the gallery’s collection up to date (the trust hopes to reinstate the award in the future).
There is also a digital artwork, We Made Something of This by Gary Winters and Claire Hind, featuring film shots from the city’s famous Gillygate Street. Photographs on display by Peter Heaton capture the changing face of the gallery during its redevelopment, highlighting just how much has been altered.
The central gallery, Sacred Spaces, has Italian masterpieces spanning four centuries on
show, while the final space, Representing Status, displays the Lycett Green Collection of Dutch old masters.
Both areas have been curated by the National Gallery curatorial trainee Eloise Donnelly. My heart normally sinks on entering galleries filled with gold frames and still-life paintings,
but the clever juxtaposition of contemporary artwork lightens the mood.
I loved Halo by Susie MacMurray, which looks like wallpaper from a distance but is in fact thousands of gold wires threaded through the gallery wall.
The shimmering effect brings the nearby Renaissance paintings to life. Similarly, a Jan van Os work, Still Life of Fruit and Flowers with Birds Nests on a Marble Ledge (1772-1808), is enhanced by the presence of Bouke de Vries’s Dead Nature Cabinet (2012), a broken ceramic bowl filled with decaying fruit and birds (all fake of course).
The gallery has sensibly decided not to fill the spaces with touchscreens, and digital interventions are only used when they offer value. The best of these is a selfie portrait tool – simply sit in a chair and a camera imposes your face on a reproduction of one of the portraits on display.
I had to throw a bunch of teens off to have a go and was rewarded with a lot of sniggering (disclaimer: it is not flattering).
Focus on ceramics
Going up a stairwell filled with large Georgian artworks, you reach the gallery’s main selling point – the Centre of Ceramic Art – which is spread over two spaces.
The first features a 17-metre “rainbow” wall of 1,000 pots arranged by colour from red through the spectrum to purple. It’s visually impressive but the interpretation (a digital screen) doesn’t reveal much about the works other than the name of the maker and their date.
Opposite is the Anthony Shaw Collection, which Shaw himself has loaned to the gallery on the condition that it is displayed in a domestic setting.
Shaw’s London residence has been recreated (complete with books, sofas and fireplaces) and ceramics by potters such as Gordon Baldwin, Jim Malone and Ewen Henderson are on open display.
While it’s great to be able to examine the works without the intrusion of glass cabinets, I did worry that a nearby handling collection (also presented in a domestic display) might cause a bit of confusion about what can and cannot be touched.
Pre-empting this, the gallery has started a volunteer programme to ensure there is always someone on hand to help visitors.
The second ceramic gallery is not as joyous in appearance. Display cases around the perimeter showcase work by potters Michael Cardew, Bernard Leach and Lucie Rie. Again, there’s not a lot of contextual information, although effort has been made to introduce the biographies of the makers.
In the centre of this space is an imaginative commission by Clare Twomey. Manifest: Ten Thousand Hours is an installation comprising 10,000 bowls, all created by community groups and piled high in precarious columns.
The artwork speaks of the fragile nature of the medium, as well as the time it takes to become a master craftsman.
Also upstairs is the Burton Gallery, which was largely left unchanged during the redevelopment. Two hundred years of British art fills the walls, arranged chronologically but grouped into broad themes such as “flesh” or “collector”.
The highlight for me was a number of works adorned with “hands on” signs. And no, they are not reproductions – three bronzes, including one by Jacob Epstein, have been coated with wax, and there are also several artist’s commissions, all of which people can touch to their heart’s content.
No one other than me seemed to be taking advantage of this rare opportunity. Perhaps a volunteer could be used to encourage people to explore the artworks.
The final gallery is my favourite so I hope the display remains on show longer than the scheduled six months.
The Lumber Room: Unimagined Treasures has been curated by York Art Gallery’s artist-in-residence, Mark Hearld, who has clearly rummaged through the trust’s collection looking for the weird and wonderful things that probably never see the light the day.
I’m talking about the likes of stuffed fish, Victorian glass sculptures filled with artificial fruit and flowers, and a series of portraits in which each sitter has the same (slightly moustached) face.
All these are accompanied by commissioned signs and the artist’s own works. There’s little or no interpretation, but you wouldn’t want any; it’s like exploring an antique bazaar, with unexpected objects at every turn.
Other than the variable quality of some of the interpretation, I can’t find much to criticise
the gallery for.
I visited on a wet Friday and the venue was busy, despite the entry charge. The cafe, which is before the “paywall”, had a long queue outside, so I would say it’s a mistake not to have the shop equally available to the public.
Most of the exhibitions will change every six months, giving local visitors plenty of reason to return regularly. I hope they do because, charge or no charge, this is probably one of the best museums I’ve been to.
Project data
Cost £8m
Funders Arts Council England; Karen Madsen; Peter Emil Madsen; City of York Council Anthony Shaw Collection Trust; DCMS/Wolfson Museums and Galleries Improvement Fund; Garfield Weston Foundation; the Foyle Foundation; Sir Siegmund Warburg’s Voluntary Settlement; Holbeck Charitable Trust; John Ellerman Foundation; Friend of York Art Gallery; The Feoffees of St Michael’s of Spurriergate;
J Paul Getty Jnr Charitable Trust; Shepherd Group; the Patricia
and Donald Shepherd Charitable Trust; the Headley Trust;
the Pilgrim Trust
Architects Ushida Findlay and Simpson & Brown
Structural engineer Arup
Main contractor Simpson of York Quantity surveyor Aecom Project manager Appleyard & Trew
Thirteen years on and it’s a case of plus ça change. The trust has reintroduced entry charges (£7.50 for adults or £10-£20 for a YMT Card that offers free entry to three venues for a year), despite the efforts of the local authority to stop it charging.
Entry fees or not, the gallery couldn’t be more different. My overriding memory of it pre-2002 is of dark spaces, and I’m not even sure I realised there was an upstairs section to visit.
The gallery has been transformed by an £8m redevelopment. A fake ceiling has been removed, revealing the original Victorian roof, and a new mezzanine gallery is now filled with natural light. A first-floor extension has increased the exhibition space by 60%.
Downstairs, the foyer has been opened up to house payment desks as well as a smart shop.
A cafe now occupies a space immediately to the right of the entrance that was previously used as an archive. The three galleries are glass-fronted, offering visitors queuing to pay a glimpse of what lies ahead, and a glass corridor means the environmental standards adhere to international loan requirements.
I pity the poor visitor service assistants who have to spend all day closing these doors after visitors though.
Other physical changes include a new artists’ garden in a space that was previously inaccessible and 300 double hexagon-shaped ceramic tiles, inspired by York’s unique street paving, on display on the exterior wall. Both these are designed to hint at the exciting collection inside.
Local connection
I visited York Art Gallery just a week after it reopened on 1 August, and the new exhibitions showcase its broad collection.
As part of its reopening, a number of artists have been commissioned to create artworks and there are also new acquisitions on show.
I started my visit in the three downstairs galleries. In response to audience research – which found people wanted to see more work depicting the city by local artists – the left-hand gallery has a display titled A Picture of York.
It includes picks from the Evelyn Award, a competition that ran from 1950 to 1962 with the aim of bringing the gallery’s collection up to date (the trust hopes to reinstate the award in the future).
There is also a digital artwork, We Made Something of This by Gary Winters and Claire Hind, featuring film shots from the city’s famous Gillygate Street. Photographs on display by Peter Heaton capture the changing face of the gallery during its redevelopment, highlighting just how much has been altered.
The central gallery, Sacred Spaces, has Italian masterpieces spanning four centuries on
show, while the final space, Representing Status, displays the Lycett Green Collection of Dutch old masters.
Both areas have been curated by the National Gallery curatorial trainee Eloise Donnelly. My heart normally sinks on entering galleries filled with gold frames and still-life paintings,
but the clever juxtaposition of contemporary artwork lightens the mood.
I loved Halo by Susie MacMurray, which looks like wallpaper from a distance but is in fact thousands of gold wires threaded through the gallery wall.
The shimmering effect brings the nearby Renaissance paintings to life. Similarly, a Jan van Os work, Still Life of Fruit and Flowers with Birds Nests on a Marble Ledge (1772-1808), is enhanced by the presence of Bouke de Vries’s Dead Nature Cabinet (2012), a broken ceramic bowl filled with decaying fruit and birds (all fake of course).
The gallery has sensibly decided not to fill the spaces with touchscreens, and digital interventions are only used when they offer value. The best of these is a selfie portrait tool – simply sit in a chair and a camera imposes your face on a reproduction of one of the portraits on display.
I had to throw a bunch of teens off to have a go and was rewarded with a lot of sniggering (disclaimer: it is not flattering).
Focus on ceramics
Going up a stairwell filled with large Georgian artworks, you reach the gallery’s main selling point – the Centre of Ceramic Art – which is spread over two spaces.
The first features a 17-metre “rainbow” wall of 1,000 pots arranged by colour from red through the spectrum to purple. It’s visually impressive but the interpretation (a digital screen) doesn’t reveal much about the works other than the name of the maker and their date.
Opposite is the Anthony Shaw Collection, which Shaw himself has loaned to the gallery on the condition that it is displayed in a domestic setting.
Shaw’s London residence has been recreated (complete with books, sofas and fireplaces) and ceramics by potters such as Gordon Baldwin, Jim Malone and Ewen Henderson are on open display.
While it’s great to be able to examine the works without the intrusion of glass cabinets, I did worry that a nearby handling collection (also presented in a domestic display) might cause a bit of confusion about what can and cannot be touched.
Pre-empting this, the gallery has started a volunteer programme to ensure there is always someone on hand to help visitors.
The second ceramic gallery is not as joyous in appearance. Display cases around the perimeter showcase work by potters Michael Cardew, Bernard Leach and Lucie Rie. Again, there’s not a lot of contextual information, although effort has been made to introduce the biographies of the makers.
In the centre of this space is an imaginative commission by Clare Twomey. Manifest: Ten Thousand Hours is an installation comprising 10,000 bowls, all created by community groups and piled high in precarious columns.
The artwork speaks of the fragile nature of the medium, as well as the time it takes to become a master craftsman.
Also upstairs is the Burton Gallery, which was largely left unchanged during the redevelopment. Two hundred years of British art fills the walls, arranged chronologically but grouped into broad themes such as “flesh” or “collector”.
The highlight for me was a number of works adorned with “hands on” signs. And no, they are not reproductions – three bronzes, including one by Jacob Epstein, have been coated with wax, and there are also several artist’s commissions, all of which people can touch to their heart’s content.
No one other than me seemed to be taking advantage of this rare opportunity. Perhaps a volunteer could be used to encourage people to explore the artworks.
The final gallery is my favourite so I hope the display remains on show longer than the scheduled six months.
The Lumber Room: Unimagined Treasures has been curated by York Art Gallery’s artist-in-residence, Mark Hearld, who has clearly rummaged through the trust’s collection looking for the weird and wonderful things that probably never see the light the day.
I’m talking about the likes of stuffed fish, Victorian glass sculptures filled with artificial fruit and flowers, and a series of portraits in which each sitter has the same (slightly moustached) face.
All these are accompanied by commissioned signs and the artist’s own works. There’s little or no interpretation, but you wouldn’t want any; it’s like exploring an antique bazaar, with unexpected objects at every turn.
Other than the variable quality of some of the interpretation, I can’t find much to criticise
the gallery for.
I visited on a wet Friday and the venue was busy, despite the entry charge. The cafe, which is before the “paywall”, had a long queue outside, so I would say it’s a mistake not to have the shop equally available to the public.
Most of the exhibitions will change every six months, giving local visitors plenty of reason to return regularly. I hope they do because, charge or no charge, this is probably one of the best museums I’ve been to.
Project data
Cost £8m
Funders Arts Council England; Karen Madsen; Peter Emil Madsen; City of York Council Anthony Shaw Collection Trust; DCMS/Wolfson Museums and Galleries Improvement Fund; Garfield Weston Foundation; the Foyle Foundation; Sir Siegmund Warburg’s Voluntary Settlement; Holbeck Charitable Trust; John Ellerman Foundation; Friend of York Art Gallery; The Feoffees of St Michael’s of Spurriergate;
J Paul Getty Jnr Charitable Trust; Shepherd Group; the Patricia
and Donald Shepherd Charitable Trust; the Headley Trust;
the Pilgrim Trust
Architects Ushida Findlay and Simpson & Brown
Structural engineer Arup
Main contractor Simpson of York Quantity surveyor Aecom Project manager Appleyard & Trew
