On any objective reading, Edward Burra occupies a distinguished place in the history of 20th-century British art. His work, especially his watercolours of demi-monde life in interwar Paris and New York, is a distinct and vivid record of the times. His paintings are held in major institutions – as is his extensive archive, which is housed at Tate Britain in London.
And yet he remains “one of the great known unknowns of modern British art”, according to Thomas Kennedy, the curator of a new retrospective show at Tate Britain. It is being held more than half a century on from Burra’s last show at the Tate in 1973, three years before he died aged 71. There are lots of reasons for Burra’s “unknown” status, explains Kennedy. “He worked alone, and not being part of a defined group doesn’t help to place an artist. But probably more important is the fact he absolutely hated talking about his work.” Kennedy cites some excruciating documentary footage (also from the early 1970s) illustrating Burra’s painful reluctance to engage with questions about art. “He just hated that stuff and would call art ‘fart’ and things like that. Apparently, he walked through that Tate show as if wearing blinkers, not looking at the work and just wanting to get it over with.”
