It's truly remarkable when an artist's vision endures and evolves over six decades, and Marthe Armitage's journey in wallpaper and textile design is a testament to that. What strikes me immediately about her work is the organic, almost intuitive way she began, inspired by the natural world right outside her door. Imagine, after years of family life and little time for art, spotting angelica by the Thames and thinking, 'This needs to be a pattern!' That’s a beautiful kind of creative spark, isn't it? It speaks to a deep connection with her surroundings and a refusal to let her artistic spirit lie dormant.
Her early experiments, printing on her staircase landing while the children were at school, are a vivid image of dedication. What I find so compelling is her observation that with patterns, you don't have to be beholden to the rigid rules of scale or perspective. This freedom must have been incredibly liberating. She taught herself through sheer will and observation, meticulously mapping out plant-based motifs, always working from life. This commitment to reality, even within the abstraction of pattern, is what gives her designs such a sophisticated and grounded feel. They don't shout; they whisper, becoming an integral part of a beautifully layered interior, which is something I personally think is often lost in modern design.
The introduction of a century-old offset lithographic press in 1968 marked a significant shift. Suddenly, her technical capabilities expanded, allowing for more intricate and scenic elements to emerge. Her fondness for statues, evident in her 'Tree Garden' print with its equine effigies and wild foliage, is a delightful personal touch. This piece, which she considers her favourite, truly encapsulates her ability to blend the natural with the architectural, the wild with the refined. It’s a reminder that art, even in a commercial form like wallpaper, can carry profound personal meaning and narrative.
As her children grew, Marthe's practice diversified, allowing her to return to painting and engage with the formal art world, even being appointed Master of The Art Workers’ Guild – a position held by titans like William Morris. Yet, her primary inspiration remained resolutely close to home. Her time spent sketching among the camellias at Chiswick House, and her subsequent rendering of its classical landscape elements into wallpaper, is a perfect illustration of this. It’s a beautiful dialogue between her art and the historical, picturesque settings she inhabits. What this suggests to me is that true artistic innovation often stems from a deep, personal engagement with one's immediate environment, whether it's a riverside path or a grand historic garden.
