Ancient & modern
LAST week's column described how, according to the Natural History of the Roman encyclopaedist Pliny the Elder (AD 23-79), the famous 4th-century BC Greek artist Apelles offered a useful subject for next year's Turner-prize entrants — three lines on a panel. Pliny himself could have gone on to recommend the virtue of unfinished paintings too, which 'are held in greater esteem than finished works: for in these the sketch-lines remain and the actual thoughts of the artist are visible, and even as one is charmed by their excellence, there is sadness that the artist's hand was stilled as he was working on the picture'. Much further thought there for the aspiring Turnerista. Remember, you read it here first.
This week, however, Apelles has useful advice to offer that national figure of fun Lord Birt, who, having virtually destroyed the BBC, has now been asked by the Prime Minister to see, presumably, if he can make it two out of two with the railways, and rid the country of the problem once and for all.
According to Pliny, Apelles rated the general public a better judge of his pictures than himself, and when one of his works had been put on display he would hide behind it in order to hear what the man on the Subura omnibus had to say. One day a shoemaker faulted a picture because, in drawing someone's sandals. Apelles had put in a lace-hole too few. Apelles promptly corrected the error, and next day the shoemaker was thrilled to see that his remarks had been taken into account. Fancying himself a critic, he now proceeded to make fun of the leg; at which point Apelles peered out from behind the picture and said a shoemaker should not judge anything higher than a sandal — or, as we would put it, should stick to his last.
Apelles took the same attitude even with Alexander the Great. Alexander frequently visited Apelles' studio, having published an edict forbidding any other artist to paint his portrait. The problem was that he would bang on endlessly about painting when it was perfectly clear that he knew nothing about it whatsoever, Even though he was addressing Alexander the Great, who was known for the ferocity of his temper, Apelles gently advised him to drop the subject, saying that the boys who were grinding the colours were laughing at him.
No, no, Lord Birt, no one (splutter) is laughing at you (snort), honestly.
Peter Jones
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