This painting was presented to the Tate by Mrs Brett on the artist's death in 1902. In recent years it has remained in store, unseen because of its poor condition. In particular, a thick layer of very discoloured varnish and dirt obscured much of the image. Extensive old retouchings appeared out of keeping with the overall tone of the painting, making it unsuitable for display. The exhibition Pre-Raphaelite Vision: Truth to Nature at Tate Britain in 2004 provided an opportunity to revisit this painting and to spend some time recovering it for display.
Brett's technique in this painting of 1871 differs from his earlier methods, as seen for example in the painstakingly constructed Glacier of Rosenlaui (1856, Tate N05643) or Florence from Bellosguardo (1863, Tate T01560). These works are much closer in intention and technique to works by the artists involved with the original Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, and directly reflect the teaching of John Ruskin. In the later seascape, however, Brett seems to have been developing a method to combat some of the self-imposed limitations of painting in the Pre-Raphaelite way. It is interesting to note that this was the same year that JMW Whistler was experimenting with a more fluid technique in his Thames Nocturnes.
Brett's uncharacteristic technique for The British Channel Seen from the Dorsetshire Cliffs was evident even through the discoloured varnish; the nature of the paint application signalled caution since it appeared clear that it would present problems for conservators cleaning the painting. If the painting process was an attempt to simplify the laborious methods of his earlier work, Brett achieved this by the use of mechanical methods to provide texture, rather than precise detailed brushwork. Principally, this involved the application of a layer of textured ground, over which he applied a thin layer of paint which seems to have been partly resisted or repelled by the underlayer. Brett exploited this reluctance of the two layers to wet one another to create visual 'noise' across the composition. The result is a paint film that resembles the surfaces of Impressionist and Post-impressionist paintings albeit achieved by different methods.
Removal of the varnish presented a challenge. The problem for the restorer is not knowing exactly how the artist modified his oil paints to achieve the results he desired. A paint layer that fails to wet the one underneath may be inclined to separate from it during cleaning. Furthermore, as in this case, a uniform application of paint across a large painting reduces the tolerances for any variation in cleaning. The difficulty of reading the image through the deeply yellowed varnish raised concerns that subtle glazes or variations might not be discerned. Whenever a varnish is that discoloured, it is wise to ask why. Was the coating perhaps intentionally coloured to hide some flaw in the artist's execution, or some later damage?
Fortunately, there exist similar works by the artist that are in good condition and conservators were confident that the original state of this painting was well worth trying to restore. Happily, the end result was successful. The removal of an almost orange varnish (in fact, three layers of dirt interspersed with three layers of degraded varnish) from the blue-green paint film resulted in a most dramatic colour change. The photographs taken before treatment (Fig.1), during varnish removal (Fig.2) and after treatment (Fig.6) are clear evidence of the change.
It is now possible to appreciate the painting properly. It depicts the English Channel seen from the Dorset cliffs, looking directly into a sun partly obscured by clouds and distributing its rays across the surface of the shimmering sea. It is these atmospheric and optical effects that Brett was interested in, not the detail of the scene. The boats were added late in the painting process. Their scale implies a very high view point, in fact higher than the cliffs on the south coast would afford. To paint the seascape, Brett began with a pre-prepared white primed canvas, purchased from a colourman's shop. He then gave it a fresh coat of lead white, in the Pre-Raphaelite manner, before applying a pale pink wash across the horizon in the sky and sea to provide the dominant tone for the painting. He gave the layer of white paint a fine texture like that from a flock roller. Although it is conjecture, conservators are of the opinion that Brett then allowed this layer to dry thoroughly until it developed a solid glossy surface. Applying a thin layer of fresh oil paint to this surface would result in the poor wetting that has been described. Presumably Brett did this deliberately. The result is repetitive and in some ways mechanical, but it provided an overall texture that is characteristic of the painting and would have been very time-consuming to generate another way.
Within this broad outline Brett has composed his picture, creating reflections across the sea using a variety of painterly devices. The sky, predominantly a single coat of lead white and ultramarine, was formed by the application of an even wash and then by removing or dispersing areas of wet paint, perhaps using a cloth or sponge, to produce the pale pink and white clouds (Fig.4). This is very much analogous to watercolour technique. The sea is more complex. The foreground involves strokes of cobalt blue, washes of viridian, cobalt and white and lighter passages of more opaque paint to depict the sunlight on the surface of the sea (Fig.3). Towards the horizon the paint was applied in isolated dabs of colour in a purely impressionistic technique (Fig.5). The poor wetting has caused the dabs to separate on the surface and the isolation of each dab has become more evident over time by the contraction of the paint around it.
The frame of this painting was restored in Tate's framing conservation studio. It, too, was in poor condition, as are many nineteenth-century frames made with applied composition mouldings rather than by carving. The frame was cleaned and the lost mouldings were replaced. Then it was gilded, where necessary, with as much as possible of the original gilding being retained. A new sight edge had to be constructed. The design of this was based on another Brett frame. The restored gold frame now contrasts well with the blue greens of the painting and reminds us of the early date of this modern looking painting.
See John Brett's The British Channel Seen from the Dorsetshire Cliffs 1871 in the Collection.
February 2007
