DORSET.- A new season of exhibitions and displays, titled Of Myths and Murals, will see exciting new artworks unveiled exclusively at The Sherborne, Dorset.

To mark the 300th anniversary of James Thornhill’s (1675/’76-1734) vivid mural depicting the epic Calydonian Boar Hunt from Ovid’s Metamorphoses, The Sherborne will pay homage to Dorset’s own master of baroque decorative painting with a corresponding piece created by Sir Quentin Blake (b.1932).

Adorning the atrium staircase, Sir Quentin’s new mural, The Joy of the Frog, will be a playful counterpoint to Thornhill’s dramatic composition, bringing a contemporary burst of movement, humour and imagination to The Sherborne’s historic interior.
“Installed during the 300th anniversary year of the completion of Sir James Thornhill’s The Calydonian Boar Hunt, it creates a wonderful juxtaposition between two very different worlds inspired by storytelling, transformation and spectacle,” says Liz Gilmore, CEO of The Sherborne.

“Where Thornhill’s mural surges with mythic drama and heroic pursuit, Quentin’s offers something lighter on its feet: a joyous frog on a mischievous journey through a world of music, creativity, play and comic theatre. There is something rather delicious in the contrast, from boar hunt to frog leap, from Baroque grandeur to Quentin’s unmistakable wit and airy line. Both works, in their own ways, are full of motion, character and narrative energy.”

The journey begins at ground level, where the frog sits beside a speaker with a scroll while opposite, a janitor stands with a large pail on wheels. Just beyond, tucked near the door, a man carries a large package. For the viewer it is as though we are stepping quietly into the wings of a theatre, moments before a magical performance begins.

As visitors then ascend the staircase, Quentin’s imaginative world starts to unfurl and scale becomes gleefully unstable. An opera singer sends three musicians skyward with the force of her voice: a violinist, a triangle player and a trumpeter, from whose instrument the frog suddenly bursts into view. Higher still, we encounter an artist at work, children at play, with the frog woven into their games, and a photographer poised to capture the moment. An Elvis-style singer appears, graciously receiving flowers from an adoring fan, while a boy with balloons drifts upwards towards the highest stretch of the stairs. At the very top, the frog reappears one last time, leaping towards an outstretched medal-giver, as though the whole joyful ascent has been building to this gloriously absurd reward.

“It is a mural that feels perfectly at home at The Sherborne: playful yet carefully composed, contemporary yet in conversation with the house’s historic heart,” Gilmore observes, adding: “In this tercentenary year, The Joy of the Frog offers a spirited new counterbalance to Thornhill’s great mural, reminding us that walls can hold both grandeur and glee, and that imagination, whether Baroque or Blakean, is always capable of lifting us.”

Drawing inspiration from Ovid (43 BC-17 AD) and his perennially popular epic verse narrative Metamorphoses, is an artist who goes by the name of The Baron Gilvan and, alternatively The Baron. To others he is more prosaically known as Chris.

In his new exhibition, The Baron’s Metamorphoses: Myths for a Failing Admiralty, Ovid’s great work is not viewed as a classical myth, rather as something absurd, immediate, and psychologically raw. Figures dissolve into their landscapes, each conveying differing psychological states such as breakdown, grief or mania, but also the resilience of invention.

Adding to the slightly discordant theme, the 18 paintings have been located in a variety of surprising places throughout the ground floor of The Sherborne, such as a vestibule lobby and library.

In The Baron’s hands, Ovid’s classical gods, goddesses and heroes find themselves in rather unfamiliar settings and scenarios; Apollo plays cricket, Daphne hovers between woman, laurel and willow trees made for cricket bats, while Narcissus fractures into reflection and echo. Elsewhere, Daedalus and Icarus rehearse their catastrophe. In another scenario, King Midas listens as his band plays on.

“These figures do not inhabit Olympus; they occupy a stage set of unstable authority, theatrical collapse, and comic revelation,” The Baron explains.

As the exhibition demonstrates, for The Baron, metamorphosis is not graceful. It is awkward, bodily and grotesque. Seen through his paintings, it is the moment a mask slips and another face appears beneath it.

“My approach to painting is visceral and instinctive. Working directly wet into wet, I let one decision lead to another, drawing with brushes, rags, pigment sticks, and fingers until forms emerge, dissolve, and reform. Each work becomes a hermetic portal, a pineal space between the inner and outer world.”

There is also a maritime theme at play, in which admirals become clowns and gods resemble shipwrecked officers. The panoply of characters reflects the underlying theme of metamorphosis as figures lean, elongate, sprout extra faces or distort into hybrid forms, as if caught between identities. Seen as a whole, the exhibition is incredibly playful.

Colour also plays a central role, in which the sharp pinks, acidic greens, maritime browns and yellows evoke both carnival and decay.

Despite being written over 2000 years ago, The Baron sees in Ovid’s stories metaphors for contemporary states of mind. The tale of Narcissus is not merely a myth about vanity but one of modern fragmentation and self-absorption. Echo becomes the voice that cannot find its origin. Icarus embodies ambition and collapse. Midas reveals the danger of gilded delusion. Daphne’s transformation is both escape and survival.

Throughout though, The Baron is keen to convey positive messages. He says: “These works resist despair. If there is collapse, there is also comedy. If there is ruin, there is reinvention. The fool survives where the tyrant falls. The band continues playing — not in denial, but in defiance. Laughter becomes a stabilising force. Transformation becomes possibility.”

Liz Gilmore again: “Both immersive displays remind us that storytelling and mythmaking is still such an important cultural tradition - the lifeblood and source of inspiration for many artists today. Visitors exploring some of the more unusual spaces across the ground floor can expect to come across immersive displays that are in some places all black and white, and others in full technicolour. The exhibitions will be accompanied by a lively programme of talks and art and performance events.”