1918 to 1951

Sadly his memoirs end in November 1918, but Gray lived on until 1951. At the end of the war he was 50 and what follows about his later years is mainly from letters to him written by his many friends in the art world and elsewhere. In his papers are over a hundred letters from friends including Muirhead Bone, Philip Connard, Charles Cundall, Gerald Kelly, J.A. Mullard, Walter Russell, A.R. Thomson, William Russell Flint, Fred Brown, D.S. MacColl and members of his family.

Notable events are fewer, but in 1923 he became a member of the New English Art Club and in the same year held a one-man exhibition at the Goupil Gallery. In 1925 his portrait of his Mother was bought by the Chantrey Bequest for the Tate Gallery and in 1934 he became an associate of the Royal Watercolour Society, becoming a full member in 1941. Throughout this period he exhibited at the Royal Academy and at the Paris Salon where he won a Silver Medal.

It is impossible to recreate a chronological story but some themes emerge from the papers. They are ‘The Chantrey Bequest’, ‘Summer painting trips’, ‘Modern Art’, ‘The Second World War’ and finally the last few years of his life.

The Chantrey Bequest

Gray painted his Mother in 1909. She was then over eighty, and he was anxious to finish it before leaving for America.  To quote from his memoirs: ‘For the last week she came every morning to sit, and on the last day was so keen to keep the pose as long as I wanted that after three solid hours the old dear burst into tears, and I had to comfort her and thank her for her pluck.  I hid the portrait, but Alfred Hayward found it while I was in America and sent it to the Modern Portrait Painters Exhibition.  I was astonished at the good notices which were sent to me.  This portrait was afterwards bought by the Chantrey Bequest, and for years, until the pictures were removed to safety in 1939, Mother smiled at me from the wall whenever I visited the Tate Gallery’.

The picture was much admired by his contemporaries, and it was exhibited in 1948 as part of a Chantrey Bequest exhibition. Philip Connard wrote to Gray on December 13 on Royal Academy letter head.

‘My dear Ronnie,

Further to my letter of yesterday, I have today taken a closer look at the Chantrey pictures and what I said in my first letter is more than confirmed in my second and third visit to the exhibition. In my opinion your portrait stands above all others in the show including Steer’s portrait of his housekeeper, not only portraits, “it is of a higher standard than anything in the show”.’

At the time Connard was Keeper of the Royal Academy School and principal tutor, a position he held from 1945 to 1949.

Summer Painting Trips

These trips were a kind of therapy for Gray and his friends and were well recorded in the many letters he received. There is one from Connard in August 1926 from Dieppe, and he is clearly not enjoying himself.

‘I want to get somewhere fairly quiet and attractive if so be there is such a place in this world. All the people here seem to be of the midland of England type who, without being in the least bit snobbish – have more money than becomes their station, and they most certainly ought to eat in the kitchen. I sit at a long public table and I speak feelingly – I’m lonely and I want companionship and shall leave here in a day or two. If your place is all right and there is room for another. I wonder if you would let me know at once. I did think of going further south, but as all France as well as England go near the sea the first 2 weeks in August, it seems to be taking a leap in the dark. I am writing this so you will get it on arrival at Sangatte.’

A year later he was writing in a very different frame of mind from an hotel in Sisterons.

‘This hotel is beautifully situated quite alone in the hills. Lovely, lovely country if we had time to do it with river, hills, trees and all within easy reach and in the hotel grounds. The hotel is good, cooking excellent. We have 2 bedrooms, sitting room, own bath and own W.C. 55 francs a week, among other things the wine is good and cheap, made here red and white for 5 francs a bottle. Rarely meet a car. Sometimes see them in the valley and work to the music of grasshoppers. Such lovely things. Magpies and woodpeckers a constant drone of pleasant sounds with occasionally the sheep bells coming in as cymbals. Butterflies my dear Ronnie that send one into an ecstasy of joy with their radiant and delicate beauty. A realplace to live in and dream of the beautiful pictures one will do. The weather so far has been lovely – (confound the week at Sisteron) and the rain is a welcome relief. It began at about eleven and is still going on at 3.00pm and I hope for the rest of the day – the river and stream are drying up there not having been any rain since March. I’m hoping for some lovely gorges all within 2 minutes from here and then old thing we shall have the ripple of the brook which will harmonize admirably with the deep heavy voice of Dear Uncle Adrian.

I shall make an effort to come here in the spring with blossoms and spring flowers, the scent of thyme, just think of it.

This is something like the view we get from the terrace where we drink our coffee. Immediately behind us are pinewoods where we sit and drink as may be.’

Modern Art

In her introduction to Gray’s memoirs Marjorie Pegram refers to a hoax perpetrated by Gray to expose the folly of Modern Art . There does not appear to be any public record of this apart from perhaps a reference to it in an undated letter to Gray from Sir Gerald Kelly from his home at 65 Gloucester Place, Portman Square, and it concerns a painter called Guevara who was Alvaro Guevara (1894-1951) and who married Meraud Guiness (also a painter and member of the famous Guiness family).

 ‘Dear Gray,

Guevara wants to remove his pictures.

He bothered the folk at the gallery then went to Lander who didn’t want to see him but I telephoned there and had him directed on to me.

He is very young and exquisitely sensitive!!!

I did my best to point out that his contention that his pictures oughtn’t – nay couldn’t remain in a room contaminated by insincerity was all balls – but he’s rather slow and oh so young.

I seemed to detect in him a real fear and anger that this spoof would ruin sales for all exotic ‘expressionist” pictures.

(I’m delighted to think this may be so!!!)

I told G. that as far as I was concerned, he could remove his pictures as far as hell – tho’ as I like them, I should regret it for a minute or two but that no one bothers his neighbour for long, and that a month hence he would just be known as troublesome and touchy.

I asked him to go and see Tonks and get advice. If Tonks thinks the child has been badly treated and should remove his pictures – then we’ll let him have them.

The van came for them and two photographers to take pictures of Guevara shaking off the dust of the M.S.P.P. What a subject!!

See Tonks and let me know what he told the child.

Kelly’

Gray had persuaded a Doctor friend of his, who had never painted anything in his life before, to paint a large picture. Gray himself did something similar and both were sent to a London Exhibition featuring Modern Art where they were placed on display, and it was sometime before the hoax was discovered.

There is a story told at the Chelsea Arts Club that the Doctor concerned was in fact Alexander Fleming who wanted to join the Club, but first Fleming needed to qualify as a bonafide artist. So he proposed the hoax to Gray and not the other way round. Sadly the paintings involved have disappered!

There is another letter from Kelly to Gray, this time dated April 20th 1950. By then Kelly had been knighted and was President of the Royal Academy.

‘My dear Ronald Gray,

I have for years been increasingly apprehensive at the encroachments of the civil servants and the Government machine into the realm of the arts. The British Council seems to be entirely run, if I may so express it, by homosexuals; their antics in foreign capitals redound to our discredit. The interference of the layman, however cultured, in the arts has always been a menace.

Neither Lutyens or Munnings took any notice of my croakings: I think it is too late to do anything very much but all my endeavours as President will be to undermine this damaging growth stronghold, but I don’t expect to have more success than I had when I tried to defend the Masterpieces in the National Gallery from the harsh treatment approved of by Sir Philip Hendy and executed by that nasty German Ruheman.

You and I may be old, but I think that our lives were passed in happier times.

All good wishes to you – and thank you for your letter.

Yours sincerely,

Gerald Kelly’

There are several other letters in similar vein from members of the Art Establishment and these appear in the published version of his memoirs.

The Second World War

Like all Londoners, Gray and his family and friends were affected by the Blitz which started on September 7th 1940 and raged for 57 days and nights.

Gray’s brother Alfred writes to him on September 25:

 ‘My Dear Ronald,

Thank you for your letter dated 18th. Marjory is getting a little straight now but everything done is temporary only as other bombs may follow.

Dick and his wife had to leave their studio as it is uninhabitable, and they are now at Bill Hill.

Don’t  let the Hitler worries affect you at all – there is nothing you could do if you were here.

When I got here this morning, I found the Germans had dropped an incendiary bomb on the roof of the house – there was no one in the flats and the flames were seen coming from the roof and the fire brigade broke in at the front door – and at the door of the flat – and put it out. They are not too careful. The roof and the woodwork of a lot of the centre flat and the house is burnt out and worst of all the hose shot so much water that it has drenched Alex Flemings flat and furniture. We got Alex at St.Mary’s but sadly had not  heard the news yet!

To crown it all, I called on a Miss Kingsley yesterday and arranged for her to call this morning at 11.00am to see the large flat with a view to taking it on a long lease – she called, and being Irish, she could not help being a little amused at what I had to show her.

Last night was the worst one of the lot, there seemed to be a steady stream of planes from 8.00pm to 5.30am dropping bombs all over London.’

The friends in London kept in touch as much as possible. There are letters from Connard, now living in Richmond, describing bomb damage to his home and visits to Wilson Steer who was blind by this time. He also attended Fred Brown’s funeral in February 1941.

At the outbreak of war Gray was living at the Charterhouse in the City of London. This is a long established home for 60 Brothers and Gray had helped many artists to gain entry including Walter Greaves and Joseph Mullard. At the outbreak of the war Gray went to live in the village of High Ham in Somerset and he regularly received letters from Mullard chronicling the progress of the Blitz and its impact on the Charterhouse. The Charterhouse has a scrapbook dated 1939 which includes sketches made by Mullard of many of the Brothers and by Gray of wartime preparations and they have kindly allowed me to reproduce them here. The figure in the middle is clearly labelled Gray.

Reproduced by permission of the Charterhouse

Mullard wrote to Gray on January 1 1940 with news of the Blitz.

‘Dear Gray,

A happy new year. I hope it will be happy because we have downed the gangster Germans – well we had last Sunday, the second Great Fire of London. Dante’s Inferno isn’t in it. The first fire of 1660 may have been more impressive – there was more wood, but this was more widespread – and more devilish. Down came hundreds of incendiaries, 20 about on us – mostly in open ground. One on the roof of the Doctors and on the Masters. If it had got hold it would have been goodbye to Charterhouse.

Barts medical school was soon in full blaze and finally gutted. Behind that was a chemical works which burned fiercely for hours.

The whole of barbican except the Post Office is practically burnt down.’

And later he continues listing further damage:

‘8 City Churches destroyed and the Central Telegraph building where your post arrived on Sunday was in full blaze in several top floors when I saw it at 2.30 Monday morning. Newgate Street blazing like Hell. The whole area between Barbican and Old Street, about 300 yards, was one mass of burning material, a tremendous inferno.”

Then later:

‘The Guildhall Hall is ruined, but not the Picture Gallery nor the library. St Lawrence Jewry the adjacent lovely church is gone/ St Brides has gone, so is Christ Church where the school boys used to worship and which is next building to the General Post Office.

The biggest fire was Waterloo Station. It lit up the whole sky over London.’

Gray spent much of the war staying at High Ham a village in Somerset near Taunton and it is here that he completed his memoirs in 1944.

His last years were spent in the CharterHouse and he died there on November 16 1951. His obituary was published in the Times on November 19 and what follows are excerpts:

 ‘Ronald Gray, who died in London on Friday, was one of the last surviving painters of the small but select “Steer circle” in Chelsea, and probably the most faithful disciple of the master. He studied at Westminster School of Art under Professor Frederick Brown who was principal there before his appointment as Slade Professor at University College in 1892. Under Brown the Westminster, as later the Slade, was a nursey of genius. Among Gray’s fellow students were Henry Tonks, David Muirhead and Walter Russell.

 Gray was in close contact with the moving spirits, consisting of Brown, Steer and Tonks of the New English Art Club though he did not become a member of the Club until 1923.

 As a painter he was distinguished by subtlety and refinement rather than by force. He seemed to  be content to work in the background as a member of a school, and seldom made any public appearance, preferring the appreciation of his colleagues  to more general recognition. It was in his landscapes, and particularly his seascapes, in water-colour, that he came closest to Steer, and they probably gave of the best of his qualities.

At the old Goupil Gallery salon there was nearly always a group of water-colours by Steer and his disciples and affinities, and it was interesting to observe the individual differences revealed. Gray had not Steer’s mastery of brush drawing or certainty of tone, but he was warmer in colour and more obviously poetical in feeling. There was a peculiar tenderness in his marine studies that seemed to be characteristic.’

Ronald Gray’s gravestone is in the private Charterhouse Cemetery at the Church of St. Mary the Virgin at Little Hailingbury in Essex. The link with the church derives from the history of local landowner Thomas Sutton who in 1611 founded an almshouse for elderly men and a school for boys at the Charterhouse in London, the site of an old Carthusian monastery. The engraving reads ‘Ronald Gray Died 16th November 1951 aged 83 years’.