Going to the Barber

 Yesterday I went, with my cousin, to visit the Barber Institute of Fine Arts in Birmingham, on the university campus (a symphony in red brick and stone). The Barber is a very handsome building in art deco style by Robert Atkinson – who, as it happens, was the architect of Wallington Town Hall, back in my old patch (the one building in Wallington that Pevsner commends – and rightly so). 
  The interiors of the Barber Institute are very fine – light, lofty, spacious, beautifully detailed, and a pleasure to walk around. And then there is the collection, which is full of gems, even if most of them could uncharitably be classed as second-rate work by first-rank artists or first-rate work by second-rank artists (as is usual in provincial galleries). The first thing to catch my eye was not a painting at all (the collection includes sculpture, coins and decorative arts) but this beautiful piece in Nottingham alabaster depicting the Coronation of the Virgin. Dating from the 15th century, it still has some of its original paint and gilding, and is unusually large, about 40 inches by 24. The effect is quite magnificent.

Among the paintings, which range from Bellini and Botticelli (studio of) through Gainsborough and Turner to the French impressionists, there was some lovely stuff and much of interest, but my top three, I think, are these. First, a stunning Veronese of the Visitation (of Mary to Elizabeth), typically sumptuous in effect and grand in conception, which of course has to be seen on the wall, particularly for those gorgeous Veronese textiles, but this image gives some idea of it...
 

Another Venetian gem that caught my eye was probably painted not in Venice but in England, around 1710, by Giovanni Antonio Pellegrini, who worked for a while over here. An unusually pretty treatment of its subject, Judith (and her maidservant) with the head of Holofernes, its free brushwork and Venetian colour make it a feast for the eyes, though again, of course, you have to see it on the wall. 

And then there was the Manet, a large (over 6ft tall) unfinished portrait of the much-portrayed, much-portraying painter Carolus-Duran, standing in a woodland clearing in his riding boots, striking a pose of nonchalant swagger. The sheer presence and dashing execution of this one made it quite irresistible to me, but then I am a huge fan of Manet. 

There was more, of course, much more. This was a hugely enjoyable gallery visit, and I'm very glad to have discovered the Barber. I fancy I'll be back.