Exhibitions
The 224th Summer Exhibition (Royal Academy, till 16 August)
Apocalypse soon
Giles Auty
Adisturbing conclusion has come to me of late: that greater numbers of people than I had supposed are visually illiterate and incapable of understanding even the simplest arguments about the nature of art. The frightening aspect here is that so many of these people occupy positions of consid- erable influence in the world of art of today.
Since my subject here is the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition I must explain at once that I infer no criticism of those responsible for running this unwieldy, ancient and difficult enterprise. What I seek to say is that we live now in a state of artistic muddle and disagreement, to which the poor quality of a good deal of writing and talking about art contributes consider- ably. Nowadays a typical Royal Academy Summer Exhibition is merely a visual demonstration of this confusion. To a visi- tor from Newbury, what is going on now at the Royal Academy probably seems deeply mysterious.
Why, in the very first room of the Royal Academy's summer show, for instance, are we greeted by a vast, two-piece Minimalist abstraction by the American Ellsworth Kelly, an even larger, heavily trampled abstract number by the German Georg Baselitz, known otherwise for his paintings of upside-down heads, and a typically sparse 'word piece' by Richard Long, who hails, fortunately or otherwise, from no fur- ther afield than Bristol? The short answer is that these three and the Italian Francesco Clemente, whose work hangs close by, are some of the guests invited by the Royal Academy to drop in from the rarefied airs of art's international strato- sphere. Only about 30 people worldwide believe Baselitz is a wonderful artist but, oddly, all of them occupy senior positions in the modern museum hierarchy. Richard Long has a slightly larger support base, swelled by earnest environmentalists who see his simple circles of stone and mud as artefacts of an impeccable 'greenness'. What all or any of these refugees from art's jetstream are doing in an institution found- ed in 1768 for the celebration and further- ment of artistic practice seems open to question. The most likely explanation seems to me that those who have invited them view their presence as more of an example than an embellishment. In other words, this is the way the President and his council feel the Royal Academy should develop in the future. This is the chosen path of what they imagine to be 'progress' and 'advance' for their institution.
I may question their wisdom and reading of history yet not doubt the sincerity of their motivation, for an instant, in trying to make the Royal Academy some kind of sis- ter enterprise to another just down the road: the Institute of Contemporary Arts. The latter has demonstrated a passionate zeal for unbridled artistic experiment and continuous revolution for a rather longer span than has the Royal Academy — with the result that its loss of public credibility is somewhat more advanced. But who, in the meantime, is encouraging straightforward artistic excellence, without resorting to any of this pseudo-revolutionary posturing? The sad answer is more or less nobody, unless isolated outposts such as this column are taken into account. During the past 25 years or so, the Royal Academy could have become a rallying point for durable values in the practice and teaching of art. These may be endangered now but are thoroughly worth preserving. This could have been a worthwhile role, for which the Royal Academy's past prestige might seem to have suited it admirably. To defend durable values is neither to be diehard, reactionary nor head-in-sand. However, this is not the role the Royal Academy has chosen for itself, preferring to hand over the keys to the citadel at the first sabre- rattlings of the modernists. The Royal Academy must be considered a fallen fortress, in short, increasingly overrun by an invasion of dubious and unproven artis- tic practices and attitudes. Such capitula- tion is no worse, I suppose, than that of virtually every art school in the country, with the result that to find a proper train- ing in traditional skills it is necessary for a student to go now to New York, where the Studio School upholds previously famed British standards. The lack of such schools here leaves a void to which those in charge of education should address themselves. But the gap left by the absence of a Royal Academy with clearly stated and properly argued policies is even harder to rectify. The 224 years of the Royal Academy's exis- tence have witnessed outstanding artistic deeds, for the like of which those visiting today may search in vain.
Each successive Royal Academy Summer Exhibition demonstrates to me only that those I knew could paint and sculpt with skill remain able to do so. Unfortunately few of these are under 60 now, which hard- ly guarantees the future. The list of those who reward attention is headed this year, as in most others, by painters such as Peter Greenham, Leonard McComb, Bernard Dunstan, Edmund Fairfax-Lucy, Diana Armfield, Jeffery Camp, John Ward, Anthony Eyton, Leonard Rosoman, Carel Weight, David Tindle and Mick Rooney, with rare and welcome incursions by Michael Andrews, Colin Self and the presi- dent of the Royal Hibernian Academy, Thomas Ryan. I would like to see many more of the last's paintings; his 'The Exam-
'Diana, Miriam, Nick Nabarro, oil on canvas, by Leonard McComb RA ination' is a gem. Gallery Seven, where this is to be found, contains a cluster of the bet- ter works in the whole show and one won- ders only why these were not placed more prominently. Mick Rooney's 'Wedding Day, Yalalag', Leonard McComb's 'Sergeant Bert Bowers', Jeffery Camp's 'Butterflies at Beachy Head', David Tin- dle's 'Double Rainbow, Geumene Gardens' and Antony Eyton's `Udaipue lifted the spirits considerably. So, too, did Allen Jones's 'Carefree Man', a painted steel sculpture of immense good humour in what I believe to be that artist's best medium. However, any gain hereabouts was largely dissipated by Maggi Hambling's gruesome 'Brothel Laugh', featuring whorish whorls of sub; expressionism.
What news of the younger guard? Nicholas Granger-Taylor, Helen Elwes, Robert Morgan and Sarah Spencer were all former students of the Royal Academy Schools, while Susan Wilson, who is little older, once taught there. But by the slightly younger Granger-Taylor's time, changing attitudes there meant that he felt isolated in his 'anachronistic' concern with drawing from life. The Royal Academy Schools seem hell-bent now, like the senior institu- tion itself, on imagined progress. This was not the case, however, in the time there of Bridget Moore, whose tiny 'Lucy's Feast' glowed out from among the overblown offerings in the Lecture Room.
But will such small, intense treasures still manage to get hung next year or the one after when space will be at an altogether greater premium owing to the presence of invited artist Damien Hirst's forthcoming masterpiece, 'Two Killer Whales Mating in a Tank'? The sheer avoirdupois of the lat- ter, to say nothing of its psychological pro- fundity, will add structural collapse to the '1 distinctly remember the brochure saying this is where the gods chose to live.' other kinds and that will be the end of the Royal Academy. At some quieter and more sensible time in the future, the necessary rebuilding of our visual culture can begin.
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