Turner - Art, Industry, Nostalgia

A photograph and a quite a few words....

"I didn't know at the time that it was going to end as quickly as it did,"

Chris Killip offering comment on how quickly Northeast England's shipbuilding declined.

London's National Gallery is two hundred years old this year (it opened on May 10 1824), which means I've been visiting it for a quarter of its life.  Although it's not my favourite London gallery - that's the Courtauld. However, of all the galleries I've visited worldwide since my first visit to one in 1964 when I was eight years old, it is the London National Gallery I've visited the most. I wrote of that first visit to Glasgow's Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum with my father to see Dali's masterpiece  Christ of St John of the Cross

I find all visits to galleries restful and joyful experiences. Whether I've seen the paintings therein multiple times or I'm visiting a new exhibition of less familiar pieces. Even in busy times, I can distance myself from other visitors and move between pieces in my tranquil bubble. Others might choose a church or peaceful countryside spot for solace and quiet contemplation. I'm not a man of faith or much of one for rolling hills, so my sanctuary is an art gallery. There, I can put away anxious thoughts and relax into the beauty my eye beholds.

As part of the National Gallery's birthday celebration, they have loaned twelve of their treasures to galleries across the UK. For example, the tranquil beauty of Vermeer's 'Lady Standing at a Virginal' has gone to National Galleries Scotland in Edinburgh, Renoir's 'The Umbrellas' with its one-half Impressionist and the other half not, now graces Leicester Museum and Art. Those visiting the Ikon Gallery in Birmingham can gaze into the eyes of Artemisia in her  'Self Portrait as Saint Catherine of Alexandria' and probably my favourite painter, bad boy Caravaggio, and the spectacular perspective of his first 'The Supper at Emmaus' is at the Ulster Museum in Belfast. But of all the loans that to Newcastle's Laing Gallery of J.M.W. Turner's 'Fighting Temeraire tugged to her Last Berth to be Broken Up' is probably the one painting with a close association between the location and the subject matter. For example, it was on the River Tyne that the tugboats 'London' and 'Samson' that pulled 'Temeraire' to her final resting place (Turner included only one in his painting) were built.  

Now I will confess it is not a favourite painting of mine despite it being voted Britain's favourite painting. I love Turner's work, especially his more Impressionistic pieces. Still, something about the 'Fighting Temeraire' doesn't quite do it for me. However, I acknowledge it is a beautiful piece by a masterly painter. I've seen it and, in truth, passed by it countless times in the National Gallery, but that said, I wasn't going to miss a visit to see it as part of the Laing Gallery's 'Turner - Art, Industry, Nostalgia' exhibition.

HMS Temeraire was launched in 1798 at Chatham Dockyard as a second-rate ship of the line. She was heavily armed with a formidable array of ninety-eight cannons spread across three decks, making her one of the most powerful ships of her rating. Her construction adhered to the robust design principles of the era, emphasising durability and firepower, which would serve her well in the tumultuous engagements that would earn HMS Temeraire the moniker 'fighting' at the Battle of Trafalgar.

That sea battle fought on October 21, 1805, and still remembered in Britain today as 'Trafalgar Day' was a pivotal naval engagement during the Napoleonic Wars, when the British Royal Navy, under Admiral Lord Nelson, secured a decisive victory against the combined fleets of France and Spain. Nelson's fleet faced a numerically superior force. Still, his innovative tactic of forming two columns of ships to break through the French and Spanish line by cutting into it caused much disruption and, as it turned out, decimated the opposing fleets.

Commanded by Captain Eliab Harvey, Temeraire played a crucial role in executing Nelson's daring battle plan. Following closely behind Nelson's flagship, HMS Victory, Temeraire found herself in the thick of the action. As Victory engaged the French ships Bucentaure and the Redoutable, Temeraire pressed forward, engaging multiple enemy vessels. With Victory and Redoutable locked in combat, Temeraire's crew executed a daring manoeuvre to position their ship alongside the French ship. This allowed them to deliver devastating broadsides that contributed significantly to the destruction of Redoutable's fighting capability. Temeraire's most notable feat came when she engaged simultaneously, and was temporarily boarded by men from, both the Redoutable and the Spanish ship Santa Ana. Nelson was fatally wounded at this point in the battle, and Admiral Collingwood had taken command of the British fleet. He offered this in a letter to the British Admiralty after the battle in the typical downbeat way of military reports...

"A circumstance occurred during the action, which so strongly marks the invincible spirit of British seamen when engaging the enemies of their country, that I cannot resist the pleasure I have in making it known to their Lordships; the Temeraire was boarded by accident, or design, by a French ship on one side, and a Spaniard on the other; the contest was vigorous, but, in the end, the combined ensigns were torn from the poop, and the British hoisted in their places."

The action was "vigorous" indeed as men from the ships fought for their lives, and the engagement between Temeraire, Redoutable, and Santa Ana was one of the fiercest clashes of the battle. The close-quarters combat was brutal, with hand-to-hand fighting and intense cannon fire. Inspired by their captain's leadership, Temeraire's crew fought with unwavering resolve. From Collingwood's report, Temeraire earned the enduring nickname 'The Fighting Temeraire’. 

Collingwood also offers one of the links between Turner’s painting and Newcastle, as the Admiral was born here. In a building where my barbers now happens to stand. At times, when sitting in the chair having my regular trim, my mind wanders, and I imagine the good Admiral in lyrical northeast England tones encouraging his sailors with a “Howay me, Lads.” 

The British victory at the Battle of Trafalgar secured their naval supremacy for the remainder of the Napoleonic wars. This victory was not only a military triumph; the gallant actions of HMS Temeraire's crew were seen in Britain as a testament to the courage and determination that characterised the Royal Navy.

Move on thirty-three years, and Temeraire had served her time and was being towed up the Thames to her last berth in Rotherhithe to be broken up for scrap. This final journey inspired Turner's iconic artistic meditation on change, progress, and the passage of time. 

Turner's painting, a poignant portrayal of the Temeraire, captures the emotional weight of a once-mighty ship being towed at sunset by a steam-powered tugboat. This symbolises transition and nostalgia, evoking a sense of the inevitable march of technological progress and the fading glory of the past. The Temeraire, once a key player in securing British naval supremacy, is now rendered obsolete by the advancements in steam power, reflecting the broader industrial transformations of the 19th century.

Turner imbues the scene with a sense of melancholy and reverence. The ship's ghostly, almost spectral appearance against the backdrop of a sun setting on the age of sail underscores the theme of inevitable decline and the bittersweet nature of progress, evoking a sense of loss and the passage of an era. This emotional resonance is a hallmark of Romanticism, which often grapples with the tension between nature and industrialisation and the sublime beauty of decay and change.

Turner's mastery of light and colour is evident in the painting. He uses a warm, glowing palette to depict the sunset, which casts a golden glow on the water in contrast with the cool, ghostly hues of the Temeraire. This play of light and colour highlights the ship, making it the focal point of the painting and imbues it with an ethereal quality, creating a reflective, almost serene atmosphere that enhances the painting's contemplative mood.

Turner's technique of applying paint in thin layers, combined with his skilful manipulation of colour, creates a luminous effect that was revolutionary for his time. The detailed depiction of the tugboat and the Temeraire against the more abstract rendering of the sky and sea demonstrates Turner's ability to blend realism with impressionistic elements, allowing viewers to feel both the ship's physical presence and its journey's emotional weight.

Turner's painting is not just a work of art but a powerful cultural symbol in Britain. Painted in 1838, during the transformative era of the Industrial Revolution, it reflects contemporary anxieties and hopes about these changes. It captures a moment when traditional ways of life were giving way to innovative technologies and industries. Turner's choice to memorialise the Temeraire rather than celebrate the new steam-powered tug suggests a nuanced view of progress, acknowledging the power and inevitability of industrialisation while paying homage to the beauty and heroism of the past. This duality has resonated through the centuries, making the painting a timeless commentary on change and continuity and underlining its relevance and impact as a British cultural symbol.

It was a very apt choice for the National Gallery to offer the painting to Newcastle as of all parts of Britain, the northeast of England has seen, and some might say suffered, the evolutionary impact of industrialisation and deindustrialisation. 

The Laing Gallery has curated an ambitious and moving exhibition around the 'Fighting Temeraire', providing an insight into Turner's artistic response to the Industrial Revolution, the technical innovations, and his deep-seated nostalgia for a vanishing pastoral world. The exhibition also sheds light on Turner's creative process, displaying preliminary sketches and studies alongside finished works, revealing how he meticulously planned his compositions and experimented with different techniques to achieve his desired effects. These studies show Turner's relentless pursuit of artistic excellence and innovative approach to capturing the natural world. By bringing together a diverse collection of Turner's paintings, sketches, and watercolours along with those of other contemporary artists of his and juxta-positioning these with photographs by Bill Brandt and Chris Killip, the exhibition not only highlights artistic genius but also examines the broader cultural and historical contexts that shaped the works.

The exhibition's first section sets the scene with an overview of Turner as a painter of "Seas, Skies & British Life". This section has landscapes and seascapes such as his 'Pembury Mill', 'Plymouth with Mount Batten' and 'Yarmouth'. These sit alongside some of his northeast England paintings, including his 'Holy Island', 'Dunstaburgh Castle' (that I recall visiting on school history trips) and Warkworth Castle. 

The exhibition's second section, 'The Temeraire and Trafalgar', is given over to the Battle of Trafalgar and the history of the Temeraire. In this, we see pieces such as Turner's loose oil sketches for his 'Battle of Trafalgar' in which he does not romanticise the horror as the British fleet sails straight into the French and Spanish fleets. Turner's sketches focus on the men, whatever their nationality, trying to survive in the sea after losing their ships. Behind them, the battle is a confusion of smoke and sails. A contemporary artist of Turner, Edward Cooke, offers a more tranquil scene, 'Ships of War in the Medway off Sheerness'. There's also a beautiful Temeraire model made by French prisoners of war after the battle. 

The exhibition's third section is 'Thames to Tyne: capturing the Age of Steam'. This section includes Turner's 'The Thames above Waterloo Bridge' and Whistler's sketch 'The Thames at Battersea'. The Tyne is represented by Turner's industrial paintings, which are unusual amongst artists of the time. The exhibition situates Turner's work within his time's broader cultural and historical contexts, highlighting how his art was shaped by contemporary events and intellectual currents. The Industrial Revolution, the Napoleonic Wars, and the rise of Romanticism all influenced Turner's artistic vision. By contextualising his work within these larger movements, the exhibition provides a deeper understanding of Turner's significance as an artist who reflected and shaped his era's cultural zeitgeist. Turner only visited northeast England occasionally, but his paintings of industry here are only exceeded by those of industrial London. Few others offered such paintings as 'Keelman hauling in coal by moonlight' or 'Shields on the river Tyne' reinterpreted in mezzotint by Charles Turner. In the scene, we can see what appear to be hills that are, in fact, heaps of ballast used to stabilise ships once they were emptied of coal. We can also see the 'Lowlight,' which still stands today and of which I wrote in  The Old Lowlight .

The centrepiece of this section is Turner's 'Fighting Temeraire' along with an ethereal early sketch of the painting. Also, there is the draft of a letter from Turner refusing to lend the painting (his 'darling' as he once called it) to an exhibition.  After its first showing in 1839, Turner kept the 'Fighting Temeraire' with him all his life, as did Leonardo with the 'Mona Lisa’, refusing to part with it "for any price". The exhibition includes the words used alongside Turner's painting when it was exhibited in 1839: "The flag which braved the battle and breeze, no longer owns her".Turner adapted these from Thomas Campbell's 'Ye Mariners of England' poem. 

I've said that the 'Fighting Temeraire' is not a particular favourite of mine, and hanging alongside it in the exhibition was a more striking painting for me. It is in my photograph of the exhibition advertisement at the start of this piece. The painting is Turner's 'Burial at Sea' inspired by the death of Sir David Wilkie, a prominent Scottish painter. Wilkie passed away while returning from a trip to the Near East, and his body was committed to the sea off the coast of Gibraltar. Turner's decision to memorialise his friend through this painting is indicative of the close bond they shared and Turner's profound respect for Wilkie's contributions to art.

Turner’s dramatic use of light and colour in the painting is notable and creates a powerful sense of atmosphere and emotional intensity. The stark black sails of the ship dominate the composition, creating a sombre and foreboding mood that reflects the gravity of the scene and serves as a visual metaphor for the journey from life to death. In ' Burial at Sea ', Turner's use of colour is particularly striking. The dark tones are punctuated by white and pale-yellow flashes, suggesting the play of light on the water's surface and the distant horizon. The ship anchors the composition, which serves as both a literal and symbolic focal point. The vessel's dark sails and heavy lines contrast sharply with the surrounding sea and sky's fluid, almost ethereal quality. This contrast heightens the painting's emotional resonance, emphasising the isolation and finality of the burial. Additionally, the painting reflects Turner's preoccupation with light and atmosphere. The play of light on the water's surface and the dramatic contrasts within the composition create a sense of movement and change.

The exhibition's last section highlights the works of other artists who have masterfully depicted the era of industrialisation and post-industrialisation. There are emotionally charged pieces such as Lowry's dark and foreboding 'River Scene' and Tacita Deans' haunting 'Beautiful Sheffield'. The latter immediately brought to my mind Orwell's description in his diary of that town, "One particular picture of Sheffield stays by me… an interminable vista of factory chimneys, chimney behind the chimney, fading away into a dim blackish haze".

In Bill Brandt's stark black-and-white pictures, we see men collecting scraps of coal from slag heaps, a stark contrast to the bustling industries of the past. At the same time, Chris Killip's monochrome photographs immortalise the last days of Tyneside shipbuilding.  In one, children play on a terraced street corner, their innocent play juxtaposed with the imposing bow of a tanker. Alongside it is the same scene shot by Killip two years later. The ship is gone and so are many of the houses visible in the first shot. Victims of the wrecking ball. In another of Killip’s photographs, workers stand below the massive propeller of the ship they're building evoking a sense of loss and nostalgia, connecting the viewer to the historical context and the emotional weight of the industrial decline. 

At the time Turner painted the 'Fighting Temeraire', the northeast of England was becoming the powerhouse of Britain. Yet, not much more than a century later began the steep decline of the traditional heavy industries of shipbuilding and coal mining. Just as J.M.W. Turner's 'Fighting Temeraire' symbolises the transition from sail to steam, marking the onset of the industrial revolution, from which northeast England would later prosper (by the early 20th century, the shipyards of the northeast built half the world's shipping), Bill Brandt's and Chris Killip's photographs capture the decline of that prosperity as the traditional heavy industries of shipbuilding and coal mining waned.

As a poignant end piece to the exhibition, there is a short film by John Pippin of another great vessel of the British Navy. It is HMS Ark Royal, filmed in 2010, sailing down the River Tyne after a farewell visit to the city that had given her life. Just as with the Temeraire, she too, is on a journey to destruction with tugs alongside to nudge that majestic giant gently between the Tyne's notorious sand flats. It is dusk, and while the declining sun does not offer the golden glow of Turner's masterpiece, the twinkling lights of Newcastle signal their farewell to another great ship of the line.