Of
all the larger than life characters that stalked the numerous schools,
circles and salons of the literary and art world at the dawn of the
20th century the figure of Augustus John presents a towering archetype
of the bohemian artist; wild, promiscuous, proto-type hippie, early
new age traveller and commune patriarch - all on top of being the top
portrait painter of his generation.
Born at
Haverfordwest in 1878 into a somewhat intimidating household - their
Grandfather exhorted his grandchildren to " Talk! If you can't
think of anything to say tell a lie!' and 'If you make a mistake make
it with Authority!' - the John children were looked after by two aunts,
Rose & Lily, who rode round the neighbourhood in a wicker pony trap
known as 'the Hallelujah Chariot'. The aunts held rank in the Salvation
Army and variously followed the doctrines of the Quakers, Joanna Southcott
and. Howell Harris. The John family moved to Tenby in 1884 and Augustus
became a student at the Slade School of Art in 1894. In the summer between
terms studying in London two incidents happened that would have a large
influence in Johns life - on a walking trip around Pembroke-shire
he had his first encounter with Irish tinkers which would lead to a
life long fascination with Romany culture and way of life. And in the
summer of 1897 he suffered a severe accident hitting his head on a rock
whilst diving into the sea, this seemingly resulted in a radical change
in character - later leading to the myth that he had dived into the
sea, hit his head on a rock and emerged from the water a genius.
True
or not - John returned to The Slade a different man. Gone was the 'methodical'
student of the previous year to be replaced by the new bohemian student
known for his mood swings, his womanising and his artistic talent. Sporting
gypsy hat, silk scarf and gold earring that would become not only his
trademark, but required dress for any would-be bohemian, John and his
associates would frequent the Café Royal whenever their meagre
student finances could afford - and John was a centre of attraction
among the cosmopolitan crowd that gathered there. The café in
the late 1890s was the haunt of artists, writers, circus people, magicians,
aristocrats 'Celtic' gentlemen & politicos of numerous persuasions
from anarchists of the Kropotkin school to Liberal capitalist 'Social
Creditors'. Among the small group of fellow students wandering around
sketching each other after classes and in and out of the anarchist clubs
off Tottenham Court Rd were John's sister Gwen - later a considerable
artist in her own right and mistress of Rodin, - and Ida Nettleship
whom John would marry on leaving Slade to avoid being seen to 'live
in sin'
Faced
with the prospect of supporting a family John took a job as art instructor
at Liverpool Art School which was attached to the University, but infact
consisted of no more than a collection of wooden sheds. Here he met
an older man, John Samson, university librarian and self-taught Romany
scholar who opened the young artists eyes to the richness of gypsy
culture, language & lifestyle. For the rest of his life John would
search out gypsy encampments wherever he went - often travelling in
his own set of horse drawn vans. He had his own repertoire of Romany
songs & dances. Joining them round their camp fires at night, penetrating
behind the veneer of romantic glamour, John saw the gypsies as having
true freedom, not compromised by the advance of industrialised society,
- the supreme anti-capitalists whose belongings were always burnt at
death. In turn the gypsies accepted John as an honorary gypsy. After
Liverpool the young John family moved back to London - marriage did
not stop John's womanising - he met and fell hopelessly in love with
one of his sisters models and friend Dorothy McNeil, known as Dorelia
or later affectionately as Dodo. Ida liked Dorelia and a tumultuous
ménage-a-trois was formed. Despite numerous other affairs Ida
& Dorelia would be the anchors round which Johns world would
revolve.
In the
early years of the 20th Century John would make his reputation as an
artist moving on the edges of a number of influential schools &
salons of the time, exhibiting with the New English Art Club and the
Camden School as well as being a regular visitor to Lady Gregory's Irish
Salon at Coole Park. Critics by now were comparing his work with that
of Matisse and Gaugin.
Tragedy
struck the John clan in 1907 when shortly after the birth of her 5th
child Ida died. With two other children by Dorelia, John, hardly the
perfect father, had to struggle with Ida's family over who should bring
up the children. In August 1911 John and Dorelia rented Alderney Manor,
a strange fortified pink bungalow built by an eccentric Frenchman in
60 acres of heath and woodland on the Newton to Ringwood road outside
Parkstone, Dorset. The property, actually quite a large low house with
gothic windows and a castellated parapet with additional cottages and
a round walled garden was owned by Winston Churchill's Liberal aunt,
Lady Wimborne, who was "pleased to have a clever artist as a tenant."
The John entourage arrived in a colourful caravan of carts & wagons
with children singing as they came down the drive. They set to, turning
it into the very picture of a bohemian commune - the coach house was
converted into a studio, the cottage converted to accommodate the seemingly
endless stream of visitors, some invited, some who just dropped in and
would stay for days, months, even years. Others stayed in the blue &
yellow gypsy caravans dotted around the grounds and when numbers swelled
for weekend parties, in gypsy tents or alfresco in the orchard. The
children played a natural part in the community joining in with chores.
And, between private tutors for the girls and school for the boys, they
ran wild over the heathland and through the woods & bathed naked
in the pond. The communal chaos was presided over by Dorelia in pre-Raphaelite
robes looking as if she was constantly about to pose for a portrait
- busy organising guests and making the house run smoothly, dressing
everyone in handmade clothes - helped by her sister Edie who ran the
kitchen. Over the years they acquired all the trappings of a back to
the land community; cows, a breeding herd of saddleback pigs, various
donkeys, New Forest ponies, carthorses, miscellaneous cats & dogs,
12 hives of bees that stung everyone, a dovecote from which all the
doves flew away and a 'biteful' monkey.
Communal
living did nothing to cramp Johns style - the affairs continued,
almost too numerous to mention - with Lady Ottoline Morrell, Mrs Strindberg,
the actress Eileen Hawthorne & Mrs Fleming, Ian Fleming's mother,
(a liaison which resulted in a daughter, Amaryliss, later an accomplished
cellist.) John never seemed to deny any of his wayward offspring - taking
some under his communal wing, paying maintenance to support others.
Though the claim that he had fathered some 100 illegitimate offspring
is probably an exaggeration - it being fashionable at one time to claim
to have had a child with him. At Alderney John would spend his time
painting and sketching the children and guests - taking part in afternoon
jazz sessions - the tango was his speciality - and presiding over the
many parties, bonfires & trips to local pubs. All the usual suspects
from the Bohemian art scene would make their way down to Dorset; the
Bloomsbury crowd; Brett, Carrington, Lytton-Strachey, Berty Russell,
Wyndham Lewis........ Other more exotic characters would make it their
home, amongst them Chilean painter Alvaro Guevara, wall paper designer
Fanny Fletcher, Polish music doctor Jan Sliwinski and the Icelandic
poet Haraldar Thorskinsson. At intervals John would leave for his studio
in London or for a continental tour in search of gypsy camps or new
lovers.
At the
outbreak of the First World War John was perhaps the best-known artist
in Britain. His friendship with Lord Beaverbrook enabled him to obtain
a commission in the Canadian Army and he was given free rein to paint
what he liked on the Western Front, but is only known to have completed
one painting. He was also allowed to keep his facial hair and therefore
became the only officer in the Allied forces, except for King George
V, to have a beard. After two months in France, Lord Beaverbrook had
to intervene to save John from a court-martial after he was arrested
for taking part in a brawl.
The years
at Alderney were the peak of John's artistic career. Everyone who was
anyone seemingly wanted to have their portrait painted by the erstwhile
King of Bohemia. Thomas Hardy on seeing his portrait painted by John
in 1923 remarked "I don't know if that's how I look, but that's
how I feel." As well a portraits of friends, like Ottoline
Morrell and W.B.Yeats, he painted Lloyd George, Ramsay MacDonald &
Winston Churchill. A controversial portrait of Lord Leverhulme, the
founder of Port Sunlight, was returned to John minus its head, the soap
millionaire having been offended by the artist's depiction of him. The
resultant outcry at this insult to John's artistic integrity reverberated
around the globe. A 24 hour art strike was called in Paris involving
not only artists, but also models & picture framers. In Italy a
huge soap effigy of Leverhulme was ceremoniously burnt and in Hyde Park
art school students marched in protest bearing aloft a giant headless
torso. (The portrait was later 'stitched' back together and hangs in
the Lady Leverhulme Gallery at Port Sunlight.)
The Johns
moved to Fryern Court, Fordingbridge
- a 14th century friary turned farmhouse - in 1927. The house on the
edge of the New Forest became a stopping-off point for artists travelling
to the West Country from London and developed into more of an open house
than bohemian commune. In the less hectic lifestyle at Fryern where
he entered the twilight of his artistic career John became increasingly
interested in politics. He was active in the National Campaign for the
Abolition of Capital Punishment and perhaps somewhat ironically supported
the Voluntary Contraception League. He pestered MPs on behalf of gypsy
& travellers' rights, and was honoured to be elected president of
the Gypsy Law Society in 1936. He was increasingly drawn to anarchism,
both as a philosophy and a social system. He had come across the writings
of the nineteenth-century French social reformer Charles Fourier, and
was attracted to the heady mix of commutarian socialism and passion
in the Frenchman's writing. John elaborated his own beliefs in the Delphic
Review, a magazine edited in Fordingbridge and through a number of radio
broadcasts. He argued for the breakdown of Nation States into small
autonomous, self-supporting, communities - `Gigantism
is a disease,' he declared, pointing out that
'Classical Athens was hardly bigger than Fordingbridge.'
His attacks were elegantly argued, even if they did appear somewhat
eccentric. He launched an attack on hedges. `Hedges
are miniature frontiers when serving as bulkheads, not windscreens.
Hedges as bulkheads dividing up the Common Land should come down, for
they represent and enclose stolen property. Frontiers are extended hedges,
and divide the whole world into compartments as a result of aggression
and legalised robbery. They too should disappear
'
Horrified
by the rise of fascism across Europe he helped to form the Artists International
Association along with the likes of Eric Gill, Henry Moore & Ben
Nicolson. The association's aim was to establish an 'army of artists'
to oppose the advance of 'philistine barbarism'. They organised a number
of exhibitions 'Against Fascism & War'. John reserved a particular
hatred for General Franco - and in the early years of WW2 he presented
several of his pictures to war funds & used his influence to free
German & Austrian refugee artists interned bythe British. During
the war years he dabbled with the Greenshirts & the Social Credit
Party and in I945 joined with Benjamin Britten, E. M. Forster, George
Orwell, Herbert Read and Osbert Sitwell in sponsoring the Freedom Defence
Committee `to defend those who are persecuted for exercising their rights
to freedom of speech, writing and action'. This was an alternative to
the National Council for Civil Liberties that had temporarily become
a Communist Front organisation refusing to help anarchists.
John
and Dorelia lived out the last years of their lives at Fryern, interspersed
with occasional trips abroad or up to London - where John would proceed,
even into his eighties, to out-drink, out-party and out-flirt his considerably
younger companions.
The
committee of 100 and 1
"....you
may count on me to follow your lead,..... it is up to all those of us
above the idiot line to protest as vigorously as possible."
So wrote the 84 year old Augustus John to Bertrand Russell during the
build up to the mass anti-nuclear demonstrations of 1961.
"...I cannot write, still less speak in public, but if my name
is of any use you have it to dispose of." Recovering
from an attack of thrombosis and suffering from what amounted to agoraphobia
he made his way up to London on September 17th 1961, hiding himself,
somewhat appropriately, inside the National Gallery until the demonstration
started. At 5 o'clock he emerged, walked across the road to Trafalgar
Square and sat down, joining the unprecedented numbers who had gathered
to protest against the lunacy of atomic weapons - and declaring that
he would "
go to prison if necessary." Few there recognised the
sick old man, but later when Bertrand Russell heard of John's attendance
he described it as a "heroic gesture." A month later Augustus
John was dead.
Statue
of John at Fordingbridge
Photo by Liz Neat