John North: A brush with the pitman painter

THE art master was called Mr Raymond, known to us clever clogs grammar school kids as Teezy-Weezy, after the society hairdresser of that time. Though not as despairing as the woodwork master, who insisted that the eight marks (out of 100) were for correctly spelling the name on the back of the masticated piece of wood, Teezy-Weezy portrayed a broad brush sense of futility, nonetheless.

He was quite right, the column long since having undergone an art bypass - with the esteemed exception of Norman Cornish, the pitman painter.

He's hung until November 28 at Sunderland Museum and Winter Gardens, much recommended but hitherto never visited. We took the train on Tuesday.

Norman, 85 now, was born in Spennymoor - where still he lives - started work as a 14-year-old apprentice at Dean and Chapter colliery in Ferryhill, known locally as the butcher's shop because of all the bloodshed there. He became a datal lad, paid daily, obliged to put his name to indentures to keep him at the coal face. "You just signed your death warrant," said the gaffer, a little disconcertingly.

He worked in North-East pits for 33 years, painted from an early age, liked nothing better than to capture the colliers on the pit road or in unwinding gear in the pub, where he himself was also partial to a pint.

"I'm rather tired but I suppose I'd better go down the pub and get on with my work," he'd observe to Sarah, his wife.

"Oh yes, it must be awful for you," said Sarah, still happily at his side.

The exhibition is wonderful, a Cornish riviera, ranging from portraits of the family and of himself - through a glass, lightly - to Spennymoor scenes like Eddy's chip shop, Mount Pleasant making merry in the snow, a dog ambling along Edward Street, as if looking for its boy.

Several capture the pit lads hugger-mugger in the pub, the colliers in for the duration, their greyhounds straining in the slips, anxious to be off again, and running.

The visitors' books, pen provided, record comments from the ancient ("me and Norman were muckers together") to the modern - "Wicked!" - to the simply encouraging: "Keep at it, son."

The twopence ha'penny pen's tied to each book with a length of string, lest Tyne and Wear Museums service be robbed of its heritage.

Coal mining, bands and banners, plays a major part elsewhere in the museum, too, right down to the video of young apprentices like Norman - "He was a canny hewer, yer da" - with sub-titles for the unlettered.

There are user friendly exhibitions on Sunderland's shipbuilding and glass making industries, a time machine - full of lions by the sound of it - an L S Lowry gallery and the Winter Gardens, wind whistling appropriately out the back.

Sunderland's first winter gardens were opened in 1879, these three years ago. "Whatever your plant passions, you can find something to inspire you at the Winter Gardens," it says, and any amount seem suitably impressed.

There's also a "tree top walk" offering a "bird's eye view", and there are those of us who suppose that if he meant us to have a bird's eye view, the good Lord would have given us wings.

Norman Cornish is much more down to earth - and like the best things in life, it's free.

End of a model museum

MUCH interest, even memories from Norman Smith of Scary Clarey, following last week's column on Locomotion, the National Railway Museum extension in Shildon. That one's free, too, sans pareil and sans expense.

"It's tremendous that after only 179 years we're finally getting the recognition and credit for what Shildon achieved, instead of Darlington bagging all the glory as usual," writes Shildon lad Philip Steele, now in Crook.

Ian Forsyth from Durham enjoyed the new place, too - "like you, we're sure it will be an asset to Shildon and the county" - but was "distressed" at what has happened to Timothy Hackworth's cottage, the original museum once filled with mementoes of 19th century life.

"Was it really necessary to destroy that in the process?" asks Ian. "It was the model of a small local history museum, obviously created and curated with passion. Now the rooms are stripped and bare, housing yet more interactive games and a short film show. Is it really impossible to have one small corner of the site with grown up displays?"

Museum director George Muirhead admits that the old cottage is now a "modern exhibition area" and that there've been other critical comments.

"Change in museums is always difficult but we felt we have to move on and do something new; the previous exhibitions had been there for nearly 30 years. We decided to produce something which didn't neglect Timothy Hackworth, and I have to say it doesn't, aimed at family groups and not just the enthusiast."

Phase II of the museum is now under consideration. "Some of the former exhibition might reappear then."

SEEKING (and finding) an unashamed plug, Peter Campbell e-mails that he, too, enjoyed those recollections of a Shildon childhood. Further memories may be stirred, he says, by the model exhibition - including a working fairground - which he's promoting at Tudhoe community centre, near Spennymoor, from 11.30am-5pm this Saturday.