RA VARNISHING DAY EDITION 2020: A MOMENT IN TIME
SEPTEMBER 2020
For the first time in the Royal Academy’s 252-year history, Varnishing Day couldn’t happen this year due to Covid-19, and the Summer Exhibition was delayed. As a result, Niall and another 99 of his fellow Academicians created a piece of work on 1st June; the ‘RA Varnishing Day Edition 2020: a Moment in Time’, to support the RA and thank our Friends for their ongoing support.
Brought together in a beautifully designed portfolio by award-winning production house Hurtwood, this is a unique collection of never-seen-before work by some of the most illustrious artists from across the world. The portfolio represents the first time in history that the RA’s community of Royal Academicians have collaborated on one piece of work – a taking of the temperature of British art at a crucial time, documenting what our RAs were doing, thinking and making on 1 June.
All sales of the portfolio support the RA and help us ensure that we are here for you – and everyone – long into the future. You can purchase the Portfolio here https://shop.royalacademy.org.uk/varnishing-day-portfolio.
CRAFTLINES
AUGUST 2015
My grandfather has worn many hats; soldier, civil servant, father of seven, husband, and winner of a county final in hurling (the achievement of which he is potentially most proud). He is fluent in Irish and recalls event and dates from 50 years ago with a staggering accuracy. Yet the residing image of him from my childhood is as a craftsman – in the garage next to his house in Dublin, whittling and sanding a piece of ash to form a hurley, sizing it precisely for the user, wrapping the handle to create the perfect hold. I remember sitting, playing surreptitiously with a clamp, watching this in awe: the creation of the perfect instrument from a piece of timber; a skill honed through practice and an unfailing attention to detail. I marvelled at the assurance of it all, the promise in his hands.
It would be satisfyingly simple to attribute my choice of career to these moments – to claim there was an epiphany in watching him, a sudden realisation that I wanted to be an architect, to create. In reality, however, the path was not so linear; instead the conviction that I wanted to become an architect embedded itself in my consciousness slowly, over time. The memory of him working in his garage was one I didn’t return to often, and like any story we fail to repeatedly tell ourselves, it languished, dormant, in the recesses of my mind.
I recently went to site at Jesus College, Cambridge, where we are working on a project that is part new build, part refurbishment. An aspect of the refurbishment involves the adaptation of eight bookcases in the magnificent former library into wall panelling. The existing bookcases are a dark stained timber, designed by Maurice Webb in the 1920s and wonderfully crafted by a masterful hand. Reworking these without compromising their beauty would be a challenge for any craftsman.
On seeing the work the joiner had done, I realised there was no cause for worry – it had been executed with confident, competent hands. In that moment, the memory of my grandfather in his garage came back to me in glorious Technicolor; and I felt a familiar thrill at the embodied potential of the right material in the hands of a craftsman, with promise in his hands.