Gluck, Diana Souhami [good novels to read in english txt] 📗

wanted her to feel happy and well-served, but not at the price of their own sanity. Nor did she risk sacrificing so valuable a relationship. She wrote screeds of critical memoranda which she had the good sense not to send.

A few weeks before the exhibition opened, Tony Carroll went down to Steyning and insisted on collecting ‘The Dying of the Light’. Fifty-two of the best of her pictures were included in the show – a display that encapsulated her life and work: the portrait of grandfather Hallé, done in an hour, the drawings of Craig in Lamorna, the Cornish skyscapes, raindrops on the window panes of her studio in Earls Court, her self-portrait with cigarette, braces and quizzical sidelong glance, the old pony-stable studio at Bolton House, Sybil Cookson’s daughter, the Cochran reviews, Constance’s flowers, the Meteor in widow’s weeds, Nesta’s profile merged with Gluck’s, the punt on the lake at the Mill House, the village hall at Plumpton, Edith doing her stint as a firewarden, the grand legal portraits, a bird flying into the sunset, a wave breaking on a deserted beach, the fish’s head.

Her brother booked her a suite of rooms for a month at the Westbury Hotel, opposite the gallery. Banished by ‘the boys’ during the setting up of the exhibition, she peered at their activities from her hotel window and phoned through her criticism to them. Nesta arrived two days before the private view and stayed in a room adjacent to hers. She had sent more than thirty invitation cards to her friends. Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother regretted not being able to see the show as she was off to Balmoral and would not be back until all was over. She said she well remembered Miss Gluck from when she called at Buckingham Palace in 1950 ‘to explain her anxieties about paint.’10 A ‘very private view’ was arranged by the gallery for Sir Louis and his family, the day before the exhibition opened. He was appreciative of the invitation and unequivocally delighted at this late splash for his sister. She made it clear to the gallery that there were to be no special prices for him.

The private view was on Monday 30 April with a champagne party in the evening. The red leather visitors’ book was out again. There were not many of her smart friends from the thirties – time had had its way – and no Queens, but still the showing was good. The Yorkes, the Simons, Salmons, Glucksteins and Neaves duly signed their names. And of course Nesta, delighted to see Gluck again in the swing. David Tonkinson, Gluck’s accountant, for whom the show generated a great deal of more or less unnecessary work, said he had never seen Gluck happier, in her suit, cravat and with walking cane, surrounded by people who admired her paintings. It was thought Edith would not be able to stand the strain of the party so after Nesta returned to Switzerland she came up with Miss Vye and both stayed a night at the Westbury. Prudence Maufe wrote that she and Edward were ‘too old for any parties now, though we do hope very much to make an effort to see the show as we both enormously believe in Gluck – indeed I think that she has real genius and will live.’11 In the event they put in an appearance: Prudence in a long black thirties dress, shuffling with a walking frame, Edward in a black cloak and having somehow lost an ear. Gluck was overwhelmed to see them there. ‘Sometimes God can be so kind,’ she said as they came through the door.

A newspaper strike, the day after the private view, delayed reviews. When they came they were full of praise. ‘Gluck is a remarkable personality and her paintings are remarkable too,’ wrote Marina Vaizey in a long and glowing article in the Financial Times.

At her best she is superb – exquisite flower paintings … small landscapes that are exquisitely stylised orchestrations of colour, kindly amusing little paintings of domestic scenes in the second world war, and above all else, portraits.… She combines a formidable sense of composition with a subtle use of colour to make paintings that are replete with vivid and living presences.… Based on observation of objective reality, linked to inner feeling, Gluck’s work combines the highest professional skill and an indelible emotional quality that makes her work outstanding.

Gluck’s fear of inadequate publicity proved groundless. There was a buzz of interest in her. Roy Strong, then Director of the National Portrait Gallery, came with two curators and bought the self-portrait she had painted in Plumpton when the YouWe love had failed. Virginia Ironside interviewed her for the Sunday Telegraph and Bevis Hillier for the Connoisseur. The Illustrated London News gave her a three-page splash and she got coverage in most of the daily papers. The Paris Herald Tribune called her a ‘transcendentally gifted painter’ who produced works of ‘beauty and magnificence’. More soberly, Architectural Design wrote of how naturally, unselfconsciously and purely her sense of form captured the spirit of modernity of the twenties, thirties and forties – the ‘Odeon style’ of the ‘Nifty Nats’, the atmosphere of utility furniture and army canteens of her wartime pieces.

Gluck rejuvenated. Each day when the gallery opened she came over from her hotel, sat with her paintings and talked to all who called. Within days most of the pictures were sold. Katherine Hepburn spent a long time looking at the show and was impressed to see Gluck there. Friends called in and took Gluck off to lunch. Val Spry, who as Val Pirie had arranged the flowers for the white group ‘Chromatic’ and subsequently married Constance’s widower, Shav, went to the exhibition, waited for Gluck and was warmly greeted by this now tiny, bent figure. ‘We’ve some wonderful memories, haven’t we,’ Gluck said to her of those far-off thirties days. Edith wrote each day – droll, self-deprecating letters from stiff, arthritic fingers:

May 20th, 1973

Dearest Grub

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