Packed with historic buildings, art galleries, a castle and more, Oxford makes for a great city break for culture vultures, says Katy Sunnassee.
WORDS: KATY SUNNASSEE. IMAGES: ASHMOLEAN MUSEUM, COURTYYARD BY MARRIOTT, AND KATY SUNNASSEE.
The last time I painted anything decent it was of a vase of tulips for my art GCSE. I loved art at school but sadly didn’t keep up with it, though I am partial to wandering the floors and corridors of a museum from time to time, most recently the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford. It’s a must-visit for lovers of art history, who will be spellbound by the latest major exhibit that showcases the vibrancy of Victorian Britain, proving this period of history was anything but monochrome but, rather, a riot of colour and texture, too.
If textiles, ceramics and oil paintings float your boat then the latest Colour Revolution exhibition is for you, with artefacts on display from Victorian society in a veritable rainbow of hues. Beginning with Queen Victoria’s monotone black mourning dress, you are swiftly swept into a world of colour – much like the scene in The Wizard of Oz where a black and white, or rather sepia-toned, Dorothy opens the door of her house onto the technicoloured Munchkin land – to the most daringly vivid turquoises, yellows, pinks and greens of both clothing and accessories, as well as sculptures, paintings, old advertisements and more. You’ll find works by artists including Ruskin, Rossetti and Whistler, as well as objects from across the whole world.
From dazzling dyes used in chic corsets, to bold experiments made by avant-garde painters, and the flamboyant use of nature’s beauty in jewellery, you’ll see everything from dark red stained glass to vibrant yellow attire, plus deep greens and blues of numerous peacocks, one of which, a huge ceramic sculpture, towers over you. There’s also a challenge to count up as many peacocks as you can, which my son enjoyed doing (they must have been the creature of the times).
At the end there’s light box showing a video of “The Electric Fairy” – a vaudeville dancer who wore a diaphanous chiffon garment with super-sized sleeves, made firm with long rods, who stood over a light box of sorts and wafted her giant wings while the lights inside and under her costume changed colour. It transfixed my son, so I can only imagine how much more spectacular this would have been for people in Victorian Britain, who would never have encountered TV let alone
