Issue link: http://read.uberflip.com/i/488332
19 Memories of Pru as a Teacher Martin Ireland The printmaking studios at Goldsmiths, where Pru sometimes worked, were used exclusively by the MA students, when I was studying there for my PGCE in the late 1980s. So I was unable to get in to work. A visit to Pru at Wimbledon School of Art soon resolved the issue. 'If anyone asks you, just say that you're with me and they won't do anything.' In return I brought her 'found objects' from visits to various riverside locations between Battersea and Hammersmith. Pru loved worn down bits of dri wood and the textures they created when embossed into Somerset paper. She also loved to print with the bubble wrap I brought her from the Fulham framer's shop where I worked. I lived by a derelict riverside factory in Hammersmith and we visited it together as well as other ruined buildings, since we shared an interest in photographing dereliction around London. Soon I was on the staff payroll as a life model. I shared evenings with Pru and the 'serious' students, working until very late while the other students drank away their grant money at The Leather Bottle pub. One evening I turned up ready for a few hours of etching to find Pru smoking in the yard outside, quietly swearing to herself. 'The Albion press isn't working properly', she cursed. 'A student has been fiddling with it and bloody jammed it.' Together we systematically dismantled it, the ever-practical Pru taking Polaroids of each stage, laying out the components on the studio floor, so we could reassemble them again. She used to bring oil paintings she was having problems with, remove them from their stretchers and print over them. She didn't like waste and searched around for all manner of bits and bobs to recycle 'for a good pull.' When I finished at Goldsmiths, I continued printmaking at Morley College. Pru once had an exhibition at the Morley Gallery in 1992, and I remember her coming upstairs into the print studio and handing out fliers and inviting students to come downstairs for a free glass of wine. She was very sympathetic to students having a tough time, and particularly to a number of her friends going down with the AIDS virus at that time. She even helped students move house or transported their work on the roof-rack of her Triumph TR6. Pru would be very generous with her time. Redfern Recollections Maggie Thornton Prunella had strong and expressive features; she had a certain period look and feel about her. Her hands too were expressive; her voice was rich and she had a ready laugh. I was somewhat in awe of her, but this soon disappeared as she became a frequent visitor to The Redfern Gallery where I worked. We used to discuss art and exhibitions and I soon got to know, like and respect her; her visits were always interesting and informative. She used to invite me to drinks with my colleague John Synge and Keith Vaughan. Keith usually said very little and I had the impression he was observing and listening to what was being said. All this certainly made me mind my Ps and Qs! I once went and visited her in her studio to select paintings for an exhibition entitled The Real and The Abstract. She was so modest about her work and seemed more proud of her newly-built studio shelves! When visiting a Diploma show at Chelsea, I bought a piece of sculpture and then discovered that Prunella had also bought work by the same person. Wanting to continue her studies, the artist needed funds and, naturally, Prunella was only too happy to support her. She said that she had been able to help, since she had been le money by her aunt Eileen Gray. When I heard that Prunella was so very ill, I wrote her a rather dull note, telling her the news and about the current exhibition at the Redfern. Although she was near the end of her life, she replied with a charming two-page letter – with no mention of her illness – just the kind of letter one writes to a friend about normal, everyday life. That was Prunella!