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The Gunton Arms Thorpe Market + West Runton Beach Norfolk

Why Bee Aye Ate Al

It’s so exclusive there’s a two month waiting list for a weekend meal and a six month wait for a bedroom. There’s a no vehicle policy – a green path crosses 400 hectares of rolling parkland to the front porch (the car park is hidden behind a copse). It has one of the finest private collections of contemporary art in Britain. The ground floor rooms are decorated by England’s best known restaurant designer. The owner is married to an American supermodel. Welcome to The Gunton Arms. Cheers!

The story starts in 1982 when property developer Kit Martin, businessman Charles Harbord-Hamond and art dealer Ivor Braka purchased the Gunton Park Estate and restored the buildings and land. The main house, Charles’s family home, was carved into several properties. Kit’s father Sir Leslie Martin ran the Department of Architecture at the University of Cambridge along with Sir Colin St John “Sandy” Wilson in the Modernist mid 20th century.

The Gunton Arms, a long low two storey building faced with grey stone and decorated with fretwork gables, was originally Steward’s Farm, a shooting lodge attached to Gunton Hall. In 2011, Ivor launched The Gunton Arms, a pub with 16 bedrooms, in the Victorian building and the rest is history. Or at least a new chapter of history.

Jonathan Meades writes in The Plagiarist in the Kitchen (2017), “Nothing needs reinterpreting. Nothing needs a ‘twist’. The wheel has already been invented. The best a cook can do is improve on what’s there – that usually means stripping out redundant ingredients. It means going back to the very foundations, of starting from zero in order to reach a point that has been reached many times before.” The menu at this pub takes a leaf out of Jonathan’s book. There may be dishes like Portwood asparagus and feta salad with shallot dressing on the menu but traditional pub grub like cod fishfingers with chips and mushy peas also makes an appearance.

Knightsbridge based Ivor explains, “I’m closely involved but not every day. Luckily I took the advice of Mark Hix, former Head Chef of Le Caprice, J Sheekey and The Ivy among others. Mark effectively gave me his Head Chef Stuart Tattersall and Simone, Stuart’s partner, to take on my first pub. They’d wanted to start their own pub in the country but decided under Mark’s encouragement to join me.” Steaks are cooked on an open fire. St Véran burgundy tops the wine list.

Who better to do an impromptu tour of the pub artwork than the owner himself? His story. “What is common to all of the pieces is that they are made by people who have a passionate commitment to what they create. They are not for decoration only to just be easy on the eye; they are to stimulate, to provoke thought and to evoke emotion.” The list of artists reads like a guide to 20th and 21st century art from figuration to abstraction: Frank Auerbach, David Bailey, Tom of Finland, Lucian Freud, Gilbert and George, Damien Hirst.

But Ivor doesn’t neglect local and historic connections either: “At high level over the wood panelling in the entrance hall there are photographs relating to the history of Gunton, Gunton Hall and especially the Suffield family and its connection with the Royal Family and Lillie Langtry, the actress and mistress of the Prince of Wales, later Edward VII. Langtry was the most celebrated beauty of her day. Whilst the Prince of Wales was staying at Gunton Hall she stayed at the shooting lodge to be close to him.” The current Prince of Wales frequents the pub. History repeating itself. “To one side of the front door is a work by Hans Peter Feldmann, an artist who specialises in adding the unexpected to old paintings he has found in antique shops. Here, he has given a formally posed 19th century lady a black eye, a clear reference to domestic violence. It’s a picture that’s comic but with obvious serious intent.” History, updated.

The Elk Room is the main bar and restaurant. Ivor says, “This room is dominated by the massive fossilised skull of a Giant Irish Elk, the largest deer that ever lived. It was found in a peat bog in Ireland and is over 10,000 years old. I bought it at an auction in Ireland and it was formerly in Adare Manor, a Gothic house designed by Pugin for the Earl of Dunraven.” Like several major Irish country houses, such as Carton in County Kildare, Adare Manor in County Limerick is now a five star hotel resort.

“In the corner of the room are a series of lithographs depicting alcoholic women and their children by Paula Rego. Born in Portugal but working all her life in England, Rego is regarded as one of Britain’s most distinguished artists. Her work has a dark humour and complexity of purpose redolent of the tragicomic vision of Goya or Cervantes. These lithographs are the result of a request from a wine producer to design memorable labels for their product. Rego responded by letting her imagination run riot with this series focusing on lonely women with babies desperately turning to drink.” The company never did use them. Too memorable.

The Elk Room flows into The Emin Room. “Addiction is again a running theme in this interior: the addiction to love and emotional need which comes over strongly in Tracey Emin’s three neon works Trust Me, I Said Don’t Practice On Me, and Everything for Love,” Ivor relates. “All these works directly convey a need for sincerity, for total emotional commitment and a huge fear of the possibility of the lack of it. The neons are executed in the artist’s elegantly distinctive forward sloping handwriting. To me, Tracey Emin, with her total dedication to her work and her directness, is one of the most impressive artists working today.” Martin Brudnizki designed the downstairs rooms; Robert Kime, the upstairs.

Racy humour is all around. Falling Leaves by Jonathan Yeo, famous for his red portrait of Charles III, is actually a collage of cutouts from porn magazines. Ivor jokes it’s “clitorati”. As a male appendage counterpart, a metal doorknob drops the K. There’s a chromatically vivid image by British photographer Miles Aldridge of the Buffalo New York born supermodel Kristen McMenamy. She rose to success in the 1990s with her ethereal alternate beauty. Kristen is a Donatella Versace favourite and friend of Linda Evangelista.

Yet there’s also serious commentary. He finishes, “Kitaj constantly involves his Jewishness in his art and this small portrait derives from a famous photograph of Hitler’s admirer and Nazi sympathiser Unity Mitford. Kitaj is deliberately implicating the English upper classes with antisemitism and an admiration for the German fascist regime.” History must not repeat itself.

“I will defend the fashion world to the end because I know it personally,” opines Kristen, who is Ivor’s wife. “From the outside it might look like a vanity project of marketing and capitalism. But from the inside it’s a lot of great people. I don’t think I was specially phenomenal looking – because I wasn’t. I had to work a little bit harder than the others. You look at some girls and they’re just so incredibly beautiful. But some of those beautiful girls don’t last because they don’t have something, that magic. I would say with the top girls you gotta have something more than just the way you look.”

The following morning, a stroll along the windswept West Runton Beach, which as the crow flies is about as close to Amsterdam as London, waves splashing “barely suggestive of the violence of the deep” (James Baldwin, Another Country, 1963), is like being immersed in an Edward Seago watercolour. Now that’s another artist whose work should be hung at The Gunton Arms. Just saying.

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Art Design People

Pattie Boyd + The Lower Third Soho London

The Other Side of the Lens

“My dog’s name is Ziggy Stardust and my son’s middle name is Bowie!” introduces Karrie Goldberg. “I’ve had the great fortune of working with rock legends like Duran Duran and Glen Matlock and Thomas Dolby so for me this project really is a dream come true. Being able to open a bar on Denmark Street – wow! To be able to bring music back to Denmark Street is truly an honour. Above you, as you may know, is the former 12 Bar Club so you are actually beneath where the likes of Adele and The Libertines played some of their very first gigs. Tonight I am especially thrilled to welcome the legendary Pattie Boyd.”

“Afterwards I invite you to go upstairs and try some of the killer cocktails!” Karrie concludes. We will. Joined by Pattie herself. Exile on Mainstreet, Itchycoo Park, Schoolboys in Disgrace, Technical Ecstasy… the alchemic elixirs are as memorable as their names. Band of Gypsys, Quadrophenia, Never Mind the Bollocks, Nursery Cryme. You 20th century music lovers will recognise those names. They’re song titles from Genesis, Jimi Hendrix, Sex Pistols, Small Faces, The Who and a few other every so slightly well known artists. Cheers! As for the name of the bar itself, turns out David Bowie recorded with a group called The Lower Third. Fellow model Twiggy rocks up. So does Queen drummer Roger Taylor. And writer and comedienne Kathy Lette. Some nights last forever.

“I thought it would be a good idea to just have a book of only photographs with the odd little anecdote, little joke, little story, but essentially about photographs,” says the eternally beautiful Pattie Boyd, model turned photographer. And raconteur extraordinaire. “I think very few people have got time to read everything that’s being written. It’s much easier to flick through and see the photos.” She should know. Pattie has not so much read the zeitgeist as has been the zeitgeist for decades.

Back to the Sixties. “In those days,” Pattie tells us after dark, “If you were booked for a shoot, models had to bring dark shoes and light shoes and jewellery, makeup, hair accessories, combs. We were definitely not spoiled. We were paid £4 an hour. Things have changed dramatically. The girls now have their makeup done, hair done, everything is super glamorous! My agent would give me a list of photographers to go and see to show them my portfolio. In order to get a portfolio I made friends with photographers or would-be photographers or assistants who would then photograph me on condition they would give me a few prints so it worked for both of us.”

The Lower Third is quite simply the coolest venue in Soho London. In Soho. In London. Denmark Street was developed in the late 17th century and is called after Prince George of Denmark. The Rolling Stones recorded in a studio on the street and Elton John wrote songs in one of the offices. It soon became known as London’s ‘Tin Pan Alley’, a version of New York’s famed music dominated district.

Pattie didn’t live the Sixties. She was the Sixties. “All my friends were filmmakers, artists, painters, designers, architects. I knew there was something in the air; people started changing their attitudes. There was a freedom that wasn’t there previously. Dresses were getting shorter and wilder. The boys were looking even better! Everyone was looking so cool and David Hockney was so wonderful – he was doing great paintings. I think about all the great photographers and fashion designers. David Bailey and Terence Donovan. Ossi and Biba and Mary Quant. Everybody was bursting out with huge creative talent. It was everywhere; it was wonderful. And music of course. You can’t forget that!” Pattie’s first husband was George Harrison; her second, Eric Clapton.

Never short of quips, Pattie is on a roll tonight: “I didn’t realise that I was shortsighted and in those days there was no autofocus.” We’ve swapped from being in front of the camera to behind it. “I was doing a job for Ringo photographing people on a Dracula film he a was doing and at the end of the day he wanted to see my photos.” He said, ‘They’re a bit soft focus.’ I realised I needed glasses to focus properly!”

“I was taking photos from ’64 onwards,” she remembers. “I didn’t know who I was and I loved taking photographs but I couldn’t be so bold to assume that I was a photographer because it was something I enjoyed so much. Then I had a few photographic exhibitions and they seemed to go down well. People liked what I’d taken so I’m fine with hanging onto that label of photographer. I take life as it comes to me. If you find yourself feeling dull, just change your mind.”

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Architecture People Town Houses

Origin Gallery Dublin + Noelle Campbell-Sharp

Change of Art

Quite simply there’s nothing as mad as a well spent afternoon in Dublin before or during or after The Races. Sometimes one brings the madness; the party will always follow. Several of her famous original racy set including a former Taoiseach and his sweetie lover have long since kicked their proverbial buckets but Noelle Campbell-Sharp is well and truly alive and very much kicking ass. The Charlie Haughey era is now banked, vaulted and sealed history. Today, Noelle captures the essential present face of a hugely successful Dublin art gallery and wildly far flung County Kerry artists’ retreat. Her face is exquisitely framed by sharp green glasses and fiery red hair complete with a yellow flame curl. Aged 77 now, she would still pass for Vivienne Westwood’s hotter more fun sister. Not many people, back in the day blonde, could outshine Jerry Hall. “I remember that was quite a  party!” She’s getting ready for the latest private view in her relocated Origin Gallery. “The key is attracting some of the brightest artists in the world.” Like its forerunner the gallery is behind a Georgian façade in the Irish capital. That’s where the similarity ends. Abruptly. Her new gallery is… drummer boy roll for understatement… calmer. Wedgwood blue ceiling, deep navy carpets, virginal white walls.

As for the original original Origin… oh yes, time to talk about Noelle’s very steamy love affair with Napoleon. Perched above the piano nobile gallery, her just below the nursery floor eaves library was once a full blown homage to the homme. His heraldic birds and heroic bees were sewn into the carpet and painted onto the shutters while spreadeagled eagles boldly crouched on the bookcase columns, spreading their wings ever wider in an ever increasing ever encroaching clockwise span swooping over easy prey… “pray tell us more!”. A double barrelled stripy fabric billowed across the ceiling like the last sails of the French General’s ship. Among the miscellanea on display was an original drawing of the Imperial Arms of France. “What any French museum would give to get their hands on all this!” envied Karl Lagerfeld when he clapped eyes on her loot. A jib door in the trompe l’oeil wall slid through to a very sweet en suite decorated with the naughtiest mural in Dublin if not Ireland. It was enough to make sailors blush, although seemingly not the Napoleonic soldiers engaged in lots of action.

“I’ve totally fallen out with Napoleon. When I was a child I discovered tea chests in an attic brimming with his letters, jewels and toy soldiers. They sparked off my obsession. Actually I still sleep in an attic! I like to surround myself with antiquarian books. I can’t pass them by. William Butler Yeats, Empire Period, Irish folklore … alright maybe I am still just a bit in love…” Noelle is soldiering on with her autobiography. Five chapters completed so far. She counts Karl, Yves Saint Laurent and David Bailey among the many entries in her not so little black book; Robert Maxwell definitely doesn’t appear: he owed her £10 million before he toppled over portside; and with rock band manager, press baroness, socialite, conservationist, arts patron and gallerist filling her résumé, presumably there’s enough material for at least five more chapters?

Noelle’s forever dashing. An ostrich feathered fully plumed hat and sapphire laden museum quality choker necklace was once her fashion du jour. Tomorrow she’s off to Cill Rialaig, the abandoned rural village she transformed into an artists’ retreat with the help of celebrated architect Alfred Cochrane. “It’s on the last road in Ireland. New York is caviar compared to escaping to Kerry!” That doesn’t stop artists coming from far and wide – Argentina, Italy, Russia and so on. “There’s a selection process, but really it’s down to whoever spins the best yarn.” The Emerald Isle’s most recognisable Rolls pulls up on the street outside Origin Gallery. Ms Campbell-Sharp has left the building. Somewhere, across the city, a mad party is about to begin before or during or after The Races.