In its last week at the Graves Gallery, Penny McCarthy’s How to See Through Time exhibition is a considered and thoughtful exploration of the role that older pieces of art have to play in our lives today. By studying Titian’s 1549 woodblock print of The Submersion of Pharaoh’s Army in the Red Sea, McCarthy brings it into a new age and bridges some of the gaps that can make these grand and sometimes complex works less accessible. Alongside this, her own compositions draw on both historical references and dreamlike imagery, creating a sense of timelessness that invites a younger audience to engage with the work and its origins.
Penny McCarthy is a Sheffield artist currently reading fine art at Sheffield Hallam University. She advocates for an understanding and connection with art through a concentrated observation. Sheffield Museums has a vast collection of art (despite having limited space and funds to display it), and McCarthy, as a member of the art scene in Sheffield, was drawn to explore this collection, leading her to Titian. The print was first acquired in the late 1970s and is spread over 12 large pages, individually framed. This disjoined form breaks up the scene, somewhat abstracting the full picture. In her study, McCarthy brings these frames together elegantly, preserving the evidence of the individual frames whilst creating a coherent scene.
In reproducing this piece, questions around the role that biblical scenes play in our increasingly secular society arise: “What has the Pharaoh’s army got to do with me?” But this older art is still important. This is not just the story of the exodus of the Israelites from Egypt; looking closer at the piece reveals all of the minute details that make a work engaging. From a defecating dog seemingly mocking the Egyptians beneath Moses’ outstretched arm, to the whole blocks dedicated to flowing water and clouds; there is something in this composition for everyone. Titian himself modernises the story of the exodus, the people making up the crowd are believed to be his neighbours and contemporaries and is set in 16th century Venice, not Egypt. This exemplifies the continual role that stories can have, being able to be refreshed and recontextualized for different periods in time like McCarthy does here.
In the accompanying film to this piece, the lines of the sea in the print are focused on and paired with still shots of the area surrounding Titian’s Venice studio. For me, this highlights the effect that a change in material can have on a composition. His aggressive yet effective cross-hatching is replaced by her more subtle effect of the pencil, which seems more organic and personal than the binary black/white of the ink print. McCarthy’s pencil study softens the solid lines of the print, adding a more natural feel to the landscape in which the scene is set. This is also added to by the smaller size of each panel, which allows the lines to more effectively come together to form the effect of depth.
The presentation of the ocean can be seen in McCarthy’s original compositions also on show in the exhibition; in which she dives deep into the ways that light can interact with water. These works are all pencil on paper and offer a stark contrast to the lines seen in the Titian reproduction. Beautiful hues of deep grey blend into each other in the skies of works like The Last Sea and Fata Morgana, whilst stark white highlights on the ocean remind us that there is a sun in the sky. I think that McCarthy’s real talent lies in her ability to accurately present the fluidity, both of the sky and sea. Even in the sharp lines of the Titian reproduction, we still get a real sense of water gushing across the paper. And in the second room, soft clouds that seem to move across the pages line the walls of the space whilst engulfing the figure in the picture next to them. The dreamlike subjects of Cloud Falls in Love with a Mortal, Aglaonice, and the trio of drawings of divers complement the hazy textures seen in the skies. I felt immersed in a canon of somewhat whimsical scenes that all felt very timeless.
Despite the atemporal tone I felt from the collection, classical subjects are not shied away from. There are two pictures titled Niobe’s Children which depict a woman from Greek mythology, Niobe, whose children were killed by the gods to punish her apparent hubris; following this, she was turned into stone. These two drawings truly contrast each other; one carefully posed and statuesque, and the other hiding in fear surrounded by two of her dead children and framed by the aggressive hooves of a rearing horse. The expression seen in her face and posture informs us of the horror she is beholden to. This is not a chance subject. The theorist Walter Benjamin uses the story of Niobe to illustrate the ‘mythical violence’ that an authority can wield over its subjects for breaking non-existent rules that challenge its position of power. This recontextualization of classical mythology shows how historic stories, as well as art, can play an important part in our lives and thinking. Especially as our right to protest and speak out against unjust social and political systems is being stifled.
The two different settings that we see Niobe in in McCarthy’s collection play into the two sides of the story; a confident and still Niobe faces the viewer, exposing her side with a raised arm showing the unapologetic action of her having children. The story then continues in the violence itself; the horse used as a symbol of authority, literally towering over her as she turns away from the viewer, folded into a tree. These drawings are powerful without this background, but even more so once a deeper understanding of the symbols is gained.
Lastly, I would like to touch on the sculptural element of this exhibition. The gallery is littered with long, gnarled glass shapes. At first, I did not understand what the pieces were meant to represent, but as I looked closer, the familiar eyes of tree branches and spindly fingers of twigs came into focus. McCarthy links back once again to the Titian print, taking inspiration from the olive branch that Moses wields, almost like a wand, when closing the Red Sea. The making of these pieces uses a sacrificial process in which the wood is entirely burnt away, leaving a void for the glass to occupy. This mirrors the techniques originally used by the printmaker in the 1500’s who had to destroy Titian’s original drawing in order to make the block from which the print was made.
The sculptures are odd. But I like them.
Like the rest of McCarthy’s original works, they are simple. But the marrying of the modern material of glass with the ancient form of the olive branch makes for an interesting centrepiece to the space. The branches can also be found in the corners of the gallery, growing into the whole exhibition as opposed to just lying on the table. This dynamic presentation livens up the space, making it feel more alive, an important element to consider when thinking about our place in time.
Overall, I really enjoyed the exhibition for its brilliant examination of older artworks and the importance of time in our relationship to art. The collection closes on Saturday, the 20th of December, so there is just enough time to head down as lectures start (hopefully) drawing to a close. The Graves Gallery is tucked away on the 3rd floor of the Central Library, next to The Winter Gardens, and is open from Tuesday to Saturday from 11 am to 4pm. The gallery is a real hidden gem of Sheffield; whilst you’re there, you can see works from local artists like McCarthy as well as internationally renowned masters like Turner and Cézanne.
You can check out more of Penny McCarthys work here and here and keep up to date with what’s going on at the Graves here.
