Apparently March is Morris Month

When I was at college, studying interior design back in the early noughties, I wrote an essay on the pre-Raphaelite art movement. Having benefitted from a mother keen on art history, I had heard the term before, and knew of the famous and haunting painting of the drowned Ophelia by John Everett Millais and the unmistakeable Light of the World by William Holman Hunt depicting Christ holding a lantern, an image imprinted on my memory as it had been used on a school bookmark which was in my possession at a young age. Unlike the accepted art of the time, the pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood’s paintings were vivid and realistic, their subject matter romantic Arthurian legend and religious moral metaphor, the latter often criticised by the establishment of the day as blasphemous because of the painter’s depiction of life-like, rather than spiritual qualities.  

However, what I hadn’t quite grasped until the point of writing my essay when in my early twenties, was the close relationship between the pre-Raphaelites and the Arts and Crafts Movement, which came about through William Morris and his influence on the painter Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Both movements shared a hatred of industrialisation which was sucking the life blood from artisan designer-makers, and of the Victorian ‘high art’ of the period. Both movements championed medieval and gothic aesthetic styles and elevated craft from what had come to be considered as the humble creative efforts of the poor, to an art form in its own right, whilst promoting the use of ‘honest’ simple materials with meticulous detail. Morris took these philosophical principles into the decorative world of interiors through his firm Morris & Co. in 1861. The intricately observed flora and fauna captured in the wallpaper and fabric designs developed during these early years, first in sketch books, then masterfully adapted into repeating patterns for print or loom, we still recognise today. This is in part because in 1940, the company passed to one Arthur Sanderson, who recognised the unique quality of the many archived designs and continued to produce Morris’s collection.

One hundred and sixty years later, Morris & Co. still forms part of the Sandersons Design Group which continues to produce Morris & Co designs to the present day.

So, it’s really wonderful that the William Morris Society came up with the idea to celebrate this unique man and the group of artists and designers that surrounded him, for the entire month of March! As a designer Morris was also heavily involved in architecture and loved old churches, and it was on the Churches Conservation Trust’s (CCT) website that I first saw that the William Morris Society had dedicated March to a Morris celebration. The CCT were celebrating their own collection of historic listed churches that feature exquisite Morris & Co. designs, one of which was in my care when I worked for them as regional director for the North of England. It is a tiny railway chapel in Cumbria called St. Gregory’s in the Vale of Lune. It boasts beautiful original stained glass by Morris himself and a host of other intricate Arts and Crafts design details many folk would miss, such as highly decorative gaslight pulls and other forged metal work.   

As some of you might have worked out, here at Teindside we are huge Morris & Co. fans. This is partly because the late nineteen century was the period in which our house got a major overhaul thanks to the Duke of Buccleuch, and it was transformed from what we think was a fairly humble rural dwelling, to the more substantive building you see today. As a result, we have elected to use Morris as our renovation’s inspiration. Not slavishly, and definitely with our own sometimes humorous twist.  

What does this mean in practice? Well, replicating older decorative plaster ceilings of the past, our master bedroom ceiling is now covered in Lincusta’s linseed putty embossed Kelmscott, inspired by one of Morris’s cherished homes, Kelmscott Manor, now in the care of the National Trust. Our recently completed drawing room is papered in Crimson Strawberry Thief. We’ve teamed this with a bit of an oriental feel, with giant red Chinese lamps and green marble pillars displaying objet d’art, so now I refer to it as the William Morris meets Brighton Pavilion room! Our hallway, stairs and landing are currently being pasted with Willow Bough Minor between dado and picture rail, this will be the backdrop for a collection of large, nineteenth century, whimsical Scottish lithographs with giant black gothic lanterns and a taxidermy warthog wearing a Panama! And (perhaps finally..) our soon-to-be main bathroom will have the lustrous turquoise Bird and Pomegranate paper above some rather Arts and Crafts inspired reclaimed church panelling painted in dark raspberry gloss, which I think will make a fitting backdrop for our copper bathtub.

Well, perhaps you could begin to think that our love for WM is now verging on obsession, as we also have Bullerswood lampshades in the library and more (blue) strawberry thief cushions (that were a gift) in the largest of our guest bedrooms…

But what strikes me, as I wander from room to room, half expecting to be overwhelmed by all this pattern, is the calmness of it all. The serene greens of the willow bough in their mesmerising horizontal bands juxtapose beautifully with the rich flat crimson of the strawberry thief, as you walk towards the drawing room from the hallway. Perhaps it’s a combination of the naturalistic subject and the everso slightly muted hues of Morris’s original palette that make it all work. Who would have known that a riot of pattern and bold use of colour could be so harmonious.

Thank you William Morris for bringing such vibrancy to our Scottish Borders home, and I hope everyone has enjoyed Morris Month, on this, the last day of March.