Salford Museum & Art Gallery - Review

The walk between the People's History Museum and Salford Museum & Art Gallery - my second intended stop of the day - is freezing. Sub-zero temperatures with intermittent hail storms. On my approach, skirting the University of Salford's campus, my foot goes clean into a genuinely deep puddle of icy water. Unpleasant. But I make it. 

Image via Salford Museum and Art Gallery

Unpeeling from myself my hat and gloves, I head straight on up the stairs, bypassing the cafe, finding myself within their print store on the upper floor. The collection of prints for sale are pretty impressive. I found myself drawn to the work of local artist Nigel Kimber, and their monochromatic abstractions. The kind of art I would love to actually buy one day. I spent some time here, looking at the local artists works, and retrieving pencil and paper from my sodden backpack. On retrospect, this was quite the apt entrance room to the galleries, as they hold a dual purpose as exhibition space and shop front, in a manner that I hadn't expected. 

Now, in a move veering towards characteristic, I accidentally explored this entire floor back to front. Counterclockwise. Widdershins. Consequentially, every single room's introductory text was at the furthest point from me, allowing me to first approach and appreciate the art, before gettinig further context. Since I had the time, this allowed me to double back round most rooms, reassessing them. 

The first exhibition, held in the Langworthy gallery - with its sort of operatic, vaulted, blue ceilings - was an impressive survey of Salford artist and Lowry contemporary, Harold Riley. As none of the paintings had artist attribution in their object labels, I must admit it took me a second to realise that it was, in fact, a survey, all pieces from the same artist. In my defence, Riley's paintings, in both subject matter and stylings, are not cohesive. He sways between portraiture and landscapes, more active, lifelike scenes, and moree abstract, emotional ones. The room is organised into zones, each grouping similar paintings, as well as cabinets with other painterly ephemera - sketchpads, satchels, journels and the like. There is no indication where one section ends and another starts, and they are not introduced or demarcated as such. But the groupings are visually clear. 

Self Portrait - Harold Riley - Image via mutualart.com

The only text within the gallery, beyond a pair of introductory panels and the object labels, are various quotes from Riley. If these are supposed to link to certain sections of the exhibition, it wasn't very clear. Now, the exhibition is titled 'Every Line is Me', and is a posthumous survey, some works exhibited here for the first time, having been held in trust. Riley died recently, at the age of 88, and the exhibition is on until 27 April 2025. 

His connections to Lowry are central throughout. Some sketches of the fellow artist, the content of the introductory text, and even a near perfect replication of Lowry's technique in a painting that incorporates a figure holding a placard reading: "Homage to L.S. Lowry". While the constant references to an arguably better-known artist may seem a touch in poor taste, Riley should have nothing to worry, his own work - especially in portraiture - connecting him with pretty influential figures, including, but not limited, to Nelson Mandela. 

In all honesty, I wasn't taken by much of Riley's work. It isn't really my cup of tea. The exception being his landscapes painted during his time at The Slade, nontably 'Slade Diploma Work Street Scene', and 'Alleyway II'. The frequent images of Golf, however, not so much. 

Moving further counterclockwise, there is a small exhibition - taking up perhaps a third of a great white hall - focussed on Pilkington Lancastrian Pottery and its links to the surrounding area. For such a small footprint, this exhibition is fully functional, painting an interesting and grounded local history, drawing evidence from some aesthetically interesting samples of pottery, especially those with the lustre glaze. The 'please touch' samples were a nice addition. It did seem to be painting big cheese Burton as a benevolent overlord, which clashed with my experiences at the People's History Museum. A mention of providing milk to address the chemically hazardous material used by the workers seemed to be brushed over, in favour of a simple story of the rise and fall of a local industry.

Image via David Siddall Antiques 

Next up we have 'Narratives of Britain', an exhibition of the work of Christy Burdock, on view until 23 March 2025. Each of her works, most of which were graphite on card, are available for sale, with prices ranging from £850 to £1865. All the works are at eye level, positioned unchallengingly on a white backdrop slightly extended from the gallery wall. 

Her work's depict seemingly quotidian scenes of local rural and urban life. The people are bulbous and misproportioned in a slightly gothic manner. I can't tell if Burdock is celebrating or mocking the figures depicted, especially in unflattering works such as 'Greggs' or 'Treats at Tescos'. None of the figures seem content. Both urban and rural life seems glum. There is merit in her approach of art as observation, however, I felt a discomfort at her work that seemed to border on poverty tourism more than an exploration of the everyday. Who am I to judge though, Burdock is a well lauded and much exhibited artist. 

Image via Christy Burdock

I am going to save an exploration of the next gallery - 'The Omnipotence of Dream' - for next week, and instead move all the way through to the Victorian Gallery. This space, a Green variation on the same architecture as the Langworthy Gallery, is chock full of more traditional paintings, with an eye for the Romantics. A man is sat sketching a halcyon landscape, as a family with a tiny baby are sheltering from the outside cold. This is performing the function of museum as third space in quite the successful mannner. In appearance, it is similar to the French salon, with art covering all available verticle surfaces. Descriptions, titles, and artist attributions are relegated to laminated sheets hung all the way below the paintings, almost at ankle level, or in ringbound books on the available benches. There appear to be trails for children to hunt out depictions of animals across the artworks. 

Unfortunately, I am realising how tired I am, and how much I am dreading the journey home in the setting of the sun over a frozen city, so my notes from this room are rather sparse. A second visit would be interesting, to explore the content of the paintings and the messages they imply. A second visit would also allow an exploration of their museum space - Lark Hill Place - a reconstruction of a Victorian street scene. I have many thoughts about this practice, especially the manner in which Salford Museum & Art Gallery have engaged in this. Yet, this is best relegated to a separate post, perhaps one discussing the Black Country Living Museum. 

Overall, Salford Museum & Art Gallery is a perfectly respectable, rather traditional, museum space. A welcome respite from the cold, with more than a hint of commercialism creeping in. 

Join me next week for a deeper dive into their exhibition marking 100 years of surrealism - The Omnipotence of Dreams.