RIVIÈRES TIÈDES, 1939
Oil on board. 36 x 24in. (91.1 x 61.2cm.)
Signed , inscribed and dated on the reverse.
Provenance
Southampton, Art Gallery from the Parkin Gallery. Accession No. 46/1977.
Exhibited
London, Mayor Gallery, 1939, No. 6.
Northampton, Northampton Gallery, 1939.
Harrogate, Harrogate Art Gallery, 1941, no 20.
Newlyn, Newlyn Art Gallery, 1961, No. 13.
London, Hamet Gallery, 1971, No. 31.
London, Leva Gallery, 1974, No. 12.
Penzance, Newlyn Orion Gallery, 1976, No. 4.
London, Parkin Gallery, 1977, No. 19.
Scottish Arts Council, 1985, touring exhibition. Illustrated in b/w in the catalogue.
Berkeley, California, University Art Museum 1990; illustrated in colour in the catalogue.
Leeds, City Art Gallery, No. 184. Illustrated in b/w in the catalogue.
Literature
Leeds catalogue, 1986, p178.
Discussed by Stich (1990).
Discussed by Remy (1999) p204.
Small colour illustration in Caws M.A. (2004), p26.
Discussed by Robinson (2005) and illustrated in colour pp. 282-283.
Ratcliffe (2007) illus. b/w, pl. 36.
One of the Méditerranée series.
The title is generally translated as Tepid Waters. It comes from the poem Summer Sadness by Stephane Mallarmé: ‘But your hair’s a tepid river, a place to drown the soul that haunts us.’ The poem records the poets’ sadness at the end of an affair.
A building, with two bell towers, stands on a stepped platform in an anonymous location. It is isolated and devoid of life, except for four meagre coloured rivulets one of which seeps out from beneath each of its closed doors, run down the steps and mingle on the forecourt. Although it is a public building, it is shut. Our only knowledge of what may be happening inside is hinted at by the rivulets of fluid.
The work is austerely painted, in clear colours, the architecture clearly and simply depicted using the illusionistic technique of Dali. There is no unnecessary architectural detail and no double image or ambiguity.
The horizon is set at the golden section of the height of the painting. Examination also shows that the architectural features of the façade have not been laid out with geometrical precision, as they project to different vanishing points. It is unlikely that this reflects a lack of concern with precise draftsmanship. It is more likely to be the deliberate introduction of distortions of the sort that De Chirico used in his paintings of deserted Italian city squares. The effect is that viewer is aware of the distortion without, in most cases, being able to articulate the reason for it. It feels wrong. It associates disquiet and menace with urban environments.
Stich identifies the building with a church. She comments that, although the building itself stands strong, it no longer represents a sanctuary of hope and faith. She sees the image, in part, as a reflection of the Surrealist antagonism towards the church but also suggests that it alludes to the church’s questionable association with fascist repression, especially in Spain during the civil war. The Leeds catalogue entry also makes the fascist association. In support of this, it may be noted that the rivulets are in the colours of the Spanish flag. It will be remembered that it has been suggested that Marlowe's Faust (1931) contains a commentary on the rise of the national socialists in Germany.
Remy comments upon the tension that can exist between the interior and exterior of an object - in this case the church. A secret is clearly lurking inside the closed building but we are barred from its apprehension. Only the seepage of the rivulets, suggestive of blood and body fluids, offer a clue to the nature of the secret.
Robinson suggests that the isolated building is a metaphor for the 'hut of reeds' a sanctuary for women to make contact with 'the night side of her own nature'.
It is certainly possible that Colquhoun had the political situation in Spain in mind, although the Spanish flag is bicoloured: red and yellow; it has no white or blue. It is surely more likely that, because all the colours have clearly understood hermetic meanings, the work reflects her life-long interest in alchemy and the gendered cosmos. This is more plausible in the context of her other work and does not require a hitherto unrecorded interest in Spanish politics.
Red occurs in many of Colquhoun’s paintings, where it represents the male principle. Here it is paired with yellow, the standard alchemical colour for philosophic sulphur. Similarly, blue signifies the female principle and is paired here with while, the colour of philosophic mercury, the female principle of the alchemists.
Philosophic mercury and philosophic sulphur are spiritual substances rather than physical ones. They represent the gendered metals which have been purified and which have to be united in order to create the philosopher’s stone.
The origin of the rivulets in a church serves as a reminder that the source of all matter is spiritual and all matter has a spiritual content.
Two rivulets representing the hermetic and alchemic female principle, meet after they descend the steps, as do the rivulets that represent the male principle. The male and female philosophic principles then come together in the foreground. This is the secret of which Remy is half aware: the Great Work, the search for spiritual perfection.
For further comments on the symbolism of hair, see Leave Uncombed your Darling Hair (1953)
References
Caws M.A. (ed) Surrealism. Phaidon, London, 2004.
Leeds, City Art Gallery, 10th October - 7th December. Angels of Anarchy and Machines for Making Clouds. Surrealism in Britain in the Thirties. 1986
Ratcliffe, E. Ithell Colquhoun. Mandrake, Oxford. 2007.
Remy, M. Surrealism in Britain, Ashgate, Aldershot, 1999.
Robinson, M. Surrealism. Flame Tree Publishing, London, 2005. The text quoted by Robinson is from Divination, published in Osmazone, Colquhoun's collection of poetry and texts.
Stich, S. Anxious Visions. Abbeville Press, New York, 1970