Some cool art painting images:
The Old Garden by Sir J E Millais. 1888

Image by Martin Beek
As a part of my thesis many years ago I studied Sir John Millais’ Scottish landcsapes. There was a large retrospective exhibition on at Tate Britain of Millas’ works, with an emphasis on the late landscapes to conclude the show. However this important landscape owned by Lord Lloyd Webber was not among them. I took this image many years ago, the painting was last see in public at the RA in an exhibition featuring Andrew Lloyd Webber’s art collection. I have long admired this painting, and as far back as 1978 visited Murthly Castle where it was painted. Of course not everyone is a fan of the "later Millais" I quote Waldemar Januszczak’s rather typical summary of Millais’ later works. The exhibition 2007-08 drew much of his landscape and better later work back into public attention and the exhibition was very well received and attended.
As an artist who is very interested in the nature of the relationship between photography and painting etc these landcapes were of great interest to me. They still are. I post a few of them that are not featured in the current exhibition.
Waldemar Januszczak
Who was not so impressed with Millais’ later work.
There is a type of career only British artists seem to have, which begins to go soft when they achieve some success, then rots to a mush when they get a knighthood. Or, worse, a peerage. These depressing careers, ruined by pats on the back from the Establishment, are a recurring event in British art. Remember Reynolds; remember Lord Leighton; remember, perish the thought, Sir Alfred Munnings? I suppose it happens in all walks of life, not just in art. Once someone is persuaded of their importance by the placating mechanisms of the state, they have no further need to prove it to the rest of us. It is no coincidence that the real achievers of British art – Hogarth, Gainsborough, Blake, Turner, Constable, Henry Moore, Francis Bacon, Lucian Freud – were not offered knighthoods, or, better still, turned them down. On the other side of the scales, I give you Sir Hubert von Herkomer, Sir James Thornhill, Sir Edward Poynter, Sir Charles Wheeler, Sir Thomas Monnington. Case closed, I believe.
All this is worth remembering as we turn our attention to Sir John Everett Millais, Bart, the first artist to receive a hereditary title, and the subject now of a stimulating tribute at the increasingly impressive Tate Britain. Not to be confused, of course, with the increasingly popular Tate Modern. Tate Britain has been ploughing manfully through the big British art careers in a determined effort to fulfil its remit and define our national characteristics. Most of the time, this has involved focusing on the rebels – Blake, Gainsborough, Constable – because they have been the real achievers. Occasionally, however, it pays to examine the lickspittles. Reynolds was a good show. Sargent, too. And Millais is a very good show.
Millais might almost be considered a paradigm of the “ruined by worldly success” story line. As a founder member of the preRaphaelite brotherhood in 1848, aged only 19, he played a key part in one of the noisiest rebellions in British art. Everything the preRaphaelites did annoyed the art establishment. You can see why as soon as you confront Christ in the House of his Parents, from 1850. We’re actually in Joseph’s workshop, where the child Jesus has punctured his hand on a carpenter’s nail and is being clucked over by his parents as the blood drips fatefully from his palm to his foot. Joseph goes: “There, there.” Mary offers him her cheek, in the manner of an underage Essex mum in a supermarket. And John the Baptist looks as if he is about to be sick. It’s a lurid, wild-eyed and ludicrous religious hallucination made up of heightened states.
I was less convinced by the late landscapes, for which so much is being claimed. Painted during Millais’s annual autumn sojourn in Scotland, they have not been shown in these sorts of numbers since his memorial exhibition in 1898. The best of them are a pleasant record of Scotland’s lovely colours and moody spans. But most are spoilt by coy and unnecessary human props, brought in to heighten the drama. A little girl lugs water across a bog. An old woman trudges down a forest path. An angelic angler fishes in a divided river. Millais’s old problem is back. He can’t turn off the sentiment.
— Millais, Tate Britain, SW1, until January 13
www.flickr.com/groups/millais/discuss/72157603743700835/
Frantisek Kupka – Creation

Image by ahisgett
Frantisek Kupka (1871 -1957) Creation1911-20 Oil on Canvas.
Seen in the Centre for Modern and Contemporary Art, Veletrzni (Trades Fair) Palace, Prague.
Matisse, Deux fillettes, fenetre bleue

Image by Monica Arellano-Ongpin
Viewing at Christies London for a sale of Post-Impressionists and Modern art