When a major artist dies while an exhibition of his or her work is up and running, there is inevitably a surge in visitor numbers. Consequently, the death of Cy Twombly at the beginning of last month has sent along to Dulwich a number of people who didn’t know his work to find out what all the fuss was about. Others, the long-standing admirers of Twombly, will visit Dulwich with sadness in their hearts that this delightful and surprising artist, this genius of the wayward mark, will make no more new work. Dulwich is not the easiest of London galleries to get to, but I recommend this show, not just for its quota of Twomblys, but also for the added bonus of Poussin, seen here in great glory. Their juxtaposition is a stimulating one.
For the uninitiated, it is an unexpected and perhaps perplexing encounter. Poussin, the fount of French classicism, and Twombly, the wild child of abstract expressionism, don’t at first seem to have much in common. But as the realist painter Anthony Eyton points out, the meeting of two such seemingly opposite painters is in itself exciting; and actually their shared concerns are greater than expected. As Eyton says, ‘It is the air or space in their pictures which unites (and enhances) them, aided by the sensitive gallery lighting and white walls.’ He says he has never before seen so much air in Poussin — and Eyton is an artist with a lifelong admiration of this particular Old Master.
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My habit on first entering an exhibition is to walk through to the end in order to gauge the extent and layout of the rooms. Even when you know the galleries this can be useful, and nowhere more so than in this new show.
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