Fine Arts
One man and his pictures
Alistair Hicks
Modern Masters from the Thyssen-Bornemisza Collection (Royal Academy till 19 December)
T don't want to bribe people to see my
pictures,' says Baron Thyssen, tut one wouldn't realise it from the press cover- age."Money! Money! Money!' go the headlines and the fact that the Baron Spends $30 million a year on paintings and $20 million on himself does make good Copy. So does the £2.7 million purchase of Gauguin's `Mata Mua' earlier this year and it is for this reason and no other that attention has been concentrated on one Painting at the expense of the exhibition's Character. The public for once are offered a show remarkably unfettered by the fusty museum mentality, a selection of paintings Chosen by one man for the one reason that he likes them, and yet all the papers talk about is money. I crave indulgence to do the same! For all the interest in financial matters, few people have asked why a German/Hungarian/American should care to have a couple of homes in England? The question has significance when the man concerned has more purchasing power in the field of the visual arts than the National Gallery, the Tate and the Arts Council put together.
The Baron acquires works of. art in a somewhat different way from that of national institutions. He confides that the excitement of seeing a new picture is 'like a meeting with a young girl — a little heart beat'. Though he has a curator backed up bY an active team and computer to monitor lha vast collections, much of which spends considerable time away from their homes at Lugano in Switzerland and Daylesford, Warren Hastings's old house in Gloucester- shire, it is the collector himself who studies. the auction catalogues and has the ultimate !ay in all purchases. He is in a rare position In that his father was also a great collector, though his interest did not extend beyond the 18th century. The present Baron denies tth.at he thought much about collecting in nis
Youth and it was only when he inherited
t,t.c'm his father in 1947 and set about ?uying back other parts of the Collection irom his family, that he became totally 14volved with the possession of paintings. . broke from his father's warnings ,a8ainst 20th-century art and started buying Lfshe German Expressionists. This leap from uld Masters to the most daring and rough 91 the modern schools might seem surpris- N, but he had been brought up with many Paintings from the Northern school. There are most definite affinities between Bosch and Brueghel and Ensor, Grosz and Dix.
However it was a Nolde watercolour that first attracted the Baron's eye. 'There is a similar play with light effects to that of the earlier Northern schools,' he comments.
The Academy exhibition must be the most colourful mixed show of its kind. The visitor is seized by bright colour after bright colour. Considering the exhibition spans the last 112 years, the abundance of colour does not come from the obvious sources. There is no Matisse amongst the 115 paintings. Here we come across a recurring problem in assessing the Baron as a collector from the show. He possesses another 700 19th- and 20th-century paint- ings and it was not he who made the selection for the exhibition but Norman Rosenthal, for the Academy, and Simon de Pury, for the Collection. Though of course he was not without influence in the choice, when I asked, 'Why no Matisse?' he was able to retort, 'I don't know why they didn't choose a Matisse.' There is still Derain and Vlaminck to fly the flag for the fauves.
The first room of the show is a disgrace. It is totally unnecessary, unless intended to show what a dull lot those Impressionists were in comparison with the Baron's favoured Expressionists. A deathly Corot precedes a plain Renoir, two very ordinary Pissaros and an unremarkable Sisley. Monet, one of colour's most able advo- cates, is represented by the chilling scene of the 'The Break up of Ice at Vethheuil'. The most amusing work there is by that perpetrator of black, Manet, which shows a lady fitted out for the hunt or merely a drive. It is entitled 'Portrait of Amazone'. Thyssen himself admits that his heart wasn't in this area. 'I bought those works here and there, just when they caught my attention.' This ante-chamber wasn't needed to introduce the core of the Collec- tion, though it does have the good effect of making one pant for the Kirchners, Schmitt-Rottluffs and Heckels.
The exhibition, though perhaps not de- signed as a lesson in art history, is brilliant at linking the slightly lesser known names to the historical framework. Thus, though there are perfectly typical examples of cubist Braques and Picassos, it is Gris's later 'The Smoker' that steals the limelight. The Kandinskys may be slightly dis- appointing but the Jawlenskys are out- standing. One could go on dropping names for some time but the Feiningers, Beck- mann's `Quappi in Pink' and Popova's Still Life (Instruments)' are worth travelling miles to see.
The Thyssen Collection, the second largest private one in the world, is like an advertisement for collecting pictures. Baron Thyssen so obviously takes pleasure in his works. He is not a taste maker. He does not try to hide the fact that he relies on dealers, especially where living artists are concerned. He buys established names like Bacon, Freud and Michael Andrews. asked him whether he might consider buying from lesser known people. 'Gone are the days when I stomped round knock- ing on studio doors in Chelsea. That is not to say I won't buy one or two younger people's work, but I prefer to let the dealer do the work. I am most interested in artists of my own generation.' He has proved this by his faith in Lucian Freud. He sat for 150 hours for the portrait, which has another of the Baron's pictures in the background. 'Yes, the Watteau fascinated him. It was entirely his choice to place it behind me.' He went on to paint 'Interior Paddington W11: after Watteau'.
Baron 'Thyssen's commitment to paint- ing is unquestioned. The sums of money available are sensational. Established Brit- ish artists have greatly benefited from his presence in England. 'Why do you have a house in England?' I asked him. 'I have close ties with the country. My father studied here. Though I was born in Hol- land I was educated here. Two of my children live here.' Do you find it a good place to collect?"Yes, England is particu- larly good — the 50-year rule is very helpful.' The 50-year law reinforces the position of the London art market, by allowing works of art to be re-exported automatically within the 50-year period. England is undoubtedly a good home for collectors. As the Government have de- cided virtually to abandon the visual arts it should be their duty to encourage more men like Baron Thyssen to our shores. Although he professes to be most in- terested in painters of his generation, if I was a young painter I would be far more hopeful of receiving money from Thyssen than from the Government. Britain seems intent on wasting its advantages. We scare away our own collectors like Edward James, we bungled the offer of the Hirsh- horn, yet rich men enjoy living in Britain. With a few carefully placed incentives to collectors, the Government could boost the funding of the arts a hundred times more effectively than they are at the moment. The Baron is living proof. Pain- ters stand at a great advantage in his eye for at least he has a love of painting. In response to a jibe about a rich man like him letting Mobil sponsor an exhibition of his pictures, he said, 'I don't want to bribe people to see my pictures,' but there is another benefit from the Mobil spon- sorship — it leaves Baron Thyssen with more money to spend on paintings.
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