Obituaries of George Wingfield Digby
George Wingfield Digby (1911–89) was an art historian with a wide range of specialist interests including ceramics and decorative textiles. He joined the Victoria & Albert Museum in 1934 as Assistant Keeper in the Department of Textiles, becoming Keeper in 1947 until his retirement in 1972.
From The Times, 12 January 1989
George Wingfield Digby, who died on January 9 aged 77, was Keeper of the Department of Textiles at the Victoria and Albert Museum from 1947 to 1972.
A career of some 40 years in one department of one museum, for he joined the staff as Assistant Keeper in 1934 and stayed on for a year as Keeper Emeritus to complete a publication, may seem to many to epitomise academic dullness and narrow specialisation.
Nothing could be farther from the life of George Wingfield Digby. His education at Harrow, Trinity College, Cambridge, Grenoble, the Sorbonne and Vienna had unusual breadth and variety; so did his interests, which embraced modern and oriental ceramics, the art of Eduard Munch, Henry Moore and Paul Nash, the work of William Blake, symbolism and education in the Caribbean.
Seconded to the Education Office, Jamaica, when the V&A was closed in the Second World War, he wrote (with E H Carter and H N Norman), four volumes of a History of the West Indian Peoples, published 1951-9 for use in schools. Eric Newton, reviewing George Digby's book 'Meaning and Symbol in Three Modern Artists' (Munch, Moore and Nash) (1955), commented: 'Mr Digby ... has increased the range of contemporary criticism'.
'He ... uses the critical equipment of the analytical psychologist' to enable others to 'understand' as well as to 'enjoy' works of art.'
It was this understanding which illumined all his studies, his articles on Bernard Leach and Lucie Rie, both personal friends, his books, 'The Work of the Modern Potter in England' (1951) and 'Symbol and Image in William Blake' (1957) and frequent articles in the Burlington Magazine and The Connoisseur on a wide variety of textiles.
His book 'Elizabethan Embroidery' (1963), the first ever published on the subject, scholarly and vividly written, sets the embroiderers in their historic context from homely domestic work to propitiatory presents from Mary Queen of Scots to Queen Elizabeth. So, too, his monograph on 'The Devonshire Hunting Tapestries' (1971) includes a chapter on medieval hunting and hawking to help the modern reader understand their significance in society. His writings have done much to interpret textiles to the general reader.
In his final year as Keeper Emeritus, Digby completed his major works for the museum, a catalogue of the medieval and Renaissance tapestry collection, the essential text for future generations of scholars.
It was during his keepership that the Devonshire Hunts, the most famous medieval tapestries in the collection, were acquired, along with many later tapestries of outstanding interest. A true connoisseur with strong likes and dislikes, Digby influenced the formation of the museum's textile collection during a quarter of a century, leaving them immeasurably enriched.
Through his enthusiasm for oriental textiles, the well-known Vuilleumier Collection was purchased in 1948. He was the first in the West to appreciate Japanese country and Pacific Islands textiles, creating a collection of worldwide renown. Still active in retirement at Sherborne, Digby improved his own collection of contemporary and oriental pottery, which he placed on display at Sherborne Castle, the home of his brother, Simon Wingfield Digby. His wife, Nelly, shared his interests and collaborated with him in translating books on oriental carpets, and now survives him.
Reproduced with kind permission of The Times
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From The Daily Telegraph, 12 January 1989
George Wingfield Digby, who has died aged 77, was a distinguished former Keeper of the Victoria and Albert Museum and an authority on decorative textiles.
He joined the V&A in 1934 as Assistant Keeper in the Department of Textiles. Apart from a break during the 1939-45 War when he was seconded to the Education Office of Jamaica and taught at Jamaica College, he continued to work in the same department until his retirement, serving as Keeper for 25 years from 1947 to 1972.
In the best traditions of museum scholarship, Digby cared for the collections, displayed them well, improved them by careful selection and studied them deeply. But his activities ranged far wider than the area of his museum duties.
His stay in Jamaica opened new perspectives for him, resulting in a collaborative four-volume work on the 'History of the West Indian Peoples', intended for schools.
Far from being a backward-looking historian, Digby also participated fully in the art and thought of the 20th century.
He was happy in the company of the artists of St Ives and one of his first books was on 'The Work of the Modern Potter in England' (1952). He also formed an important collection of contemporary hand-made pottery.
He was deeply versed in the analytical psychology of Jung and used this knowledge to good effect in a study of 'Meaning and Symbol in Edward Munch, Henry Moore and Paul Nash' (1955) and in 'Symbol and Image in William Blake' (1957).
George Frederick Wingfield Digby, younger son of Col F J B Wingfield Digby of Sherorne Castle, Dorset, was born in 1911 and educated at Harrow, Trinity College, Cambridge and at the universities of Grenoble, the Sorbonne and Vienna.
He contributed an important chapter to Sir Frank Stenton's Bayeux Tapestry (1957) and wrote an impressive monograph on 'Elizabethan Embroidery' (1963). Another excellent monograph was devoted to the 15th century Devonshire Hunting Tapestries (1971). He crowned his career with a major catalogue of the Museum's Tapestry Collection, Medieval and Renaissance (1980).
Always responsive to Chinese and Japanese art, he formed in later years a magnificent collection of Far Eastern ceramics, part of which has been beautifully displayed in the public rooms of his ancestral home, Sherborne Castle.
Porcelain seemed peculiarly appropriate in one whose character, in some respects, was that of an exquisitely cultured mandarin.
In person Digby was slender and elegant, with fine drawn features which allowed his sensibility to shine through. Through decently proud of his lineage and happy to retire to a delightful house on the family estate at Sherborne, he had nothing snobbish about him.
He was a little reserved, jealous of his privacy and had an aura of refinement which kept any coarse or vulgar idea at a respectful distance. Yet he was approachable, accepted people on their merits and, once the ice was broken, readily admitted them to his friendship.
His easy manners and agreeable conversation delighted his many friends and everyone who knew him will treasure pleasant memories of his personality. Indeed, such was his amiability that it is hard to imagine that he can ever have made an enemy.
He is survived by his wife, the former Cornelia ('Nellie') Keitler. She was his devoted companion through more than 50 years of marriage, collaborator on his work (for example on the 1977 catalogue of Islamic Carpets and Textiles in the Keir Collection) and sharer of his many interests and enthusiasms, above all for Oriental ceramics.
Reproduced with kind permission of The Telegraph
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From The Guardian, 17 January 1989
Pulling the rug
George Wingfield Digby was Keeper of the Department of Textiles in the Victoria & Albert Museum from 1947 until 1972. During this period he published two important books on English tapestry, 'Elizabethan Embroidery' (1963) and 'The Devonshire Hunting Tapestries' (1971, after these magnificent works fame to the nation). His catalogue of the Medieval and Renaissance Tapestry Collection in the V&A (1980) can scarcely be superseded.
I served under him for eight years in the 1950s, my first job at the V&A. He was a distinguished-looking man, rather shy, with a charming smile, always courteous. Behind his mild manner, however, lay strong feelings. He was passionate about art and had an eye for beauty. His discriminating taste will always be reflected in the acquisitions he made for the Museum but it was also a pleasure to see his delight when, after a lunchtime prowl through antique shops in Kensington Church Street, he brought back a handsome piece of Chinese porcelain which he bought for his own collection. At that time he was fascinated by Oriental blue-and-white porcelain and I recall how he had the walls of his office painted a striking orange which set off to advantage that part of his collection which he chose to keep there. His interests had lain in the realm of English studio pottery; Bernard Leach was a close friend and he greatly admired the work of Staite Murray.
At the same time he was evidently excited by the art of William Blake about whose symbolism he wrote a book, which may well come to be more fully appreciated when we pass our present materialistic age into one where spiritual values count for more. Indeed, George was a contemplative man, interested in Jung and in Chinese philosophy. He recently published a volume of his own poems and, judging by the passage from one that was read his funeral, the uplifting imagery of Blake had been a potent source of inspiration. George never ceased to surprise with the breadth of his interest and, even at these last moments in his presence, the depth of his feelings for matters about which he cared was once again brought home.
He came from an aristocratic background, was educated at Harrow and Cambridge, then went to study at Grenoble, the Sorbonne and Vienna. He married the strikingly good-looking daughter of a Viennese professor and they made an outstanding handsome couple. Their house was delightful - airy and light, filled with objects of beauty and charm including some of Nellie's family furniture in the Biedermeier style (at that time a rarity in Kensington) and some pretty Japanese screens. They were the kindest of hosts, especially to young members of George's department who were frequently asked around.
I cannot remember George ever giving me an order. He ran his Department with touches of the tiller were so gentle that one hardly noticed them. He believed in leaving young Assistant Keepers to find out for themselves what they wanted to do but he was genuinely interested in the results. He rarely chided, even when it was deserved. I recall taking my father around a lovely exhibition of Near Eastern rugs that George had put on. The rugs had been lent by a private collector but did not quite fill the gallery so George had included a few from the Museum's collection. I remember explaining this to my father, adding that the five or six best items were actually the Museum's. We were alone in the gallery except for a couple standing in one corner. That afternoon George called me into his office and explained in a very mild manner that the couple had been the owners of the collection, adding with a wry smile that he had rather hoped that in due course they would give some of their rugs to the V&A. George could hardly have been less than exasperated, but this did not show; he never again mentioned the incident and did not seem to hold it against his foolish young Assistant Keeper.
Such admirable detachment is a quality that has never been all that common in the museum profession and I very much doubt if it can be found anywhere today. It is inconceivable that a Keeper in these hard-hitting times, preoccupied with the problems of sponsorship, targeting and marketing every thing, could handle such a situation in so relaxed manner. But George dealt with us gently and was always loyal to his staff - a fact deeply appreciated by those who worked for him. I cannot imagine that anyone who served under him can fail to look back on those times with gratitude and not a little pride.
Peter Thornton
Reproduced with kind permission of The Guardian
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