i n HE publication simultaneously of the Tate Gallery's annual report
and a freshly con- ceived guide to the collections is a convenient moment for trying to assess the functions of the Tate, as well as its recent innovations. These have been further implemented by Mr Norman Reid with the support of an immeasurably improved board of trustees: more knowledgeable about modern art, more professional, and less insular— but memory of the antics of some earlier 'pillars' of the gallery brings to mind the nice old New York-Jewish aside: 'With friends like that, who needs enemies ...?' It is a pleasure by contrast to find Sir Herbert Read and Dame Barbara Hep- worth currently among the trustees, but extra- ordinary that Sir Herbert should not have been asked to serve until he was well over seventy; whilst the redoubtable Dame Barbara was not invited until very recently, in her mid-sixties.
Glancing down the list of trustees as a whole prompts two further thoughts. It would surely be sensible to have on the board a weighty leavening of senior artists representing a wide range of in- dividual aesthetic commitment. And second, it might be useful for the Tate to consider the appointment of a young artist as trustee to give special advice on occasion, following the example of the Arts Council's Arts Panel which has recently co-opted the services of the young sculp- tor, Derrick Woodham. The presence among Tate trustees of an artist of the generation and calibre of, say, Richard Smith, Philip King or John Hoy- land, could be of real value : young men often see direct solutions to problems, and they have a sharp sense of the essential values of contempo- rary art as opposed to the vagaries of fashion.
Which brings us to the collection, and the recent attempt at a more coherent and pointed system of hanging. The results are so encourag- ing that any criticism at this early stage seems premature. However, the Tate has rather forced the issue, for the annual report is accompanied by an 'official guide' which postulates an all- embracing survey of recent developments in art, with works from the collection distributed, both in practice on the walls and in theory in the text, to support this carefully compartmented arrange- ment. The newly hung galleries to the right of the Duveen Sculpture Hall have also been made the occasion for a recent evening visit by the Queen, so clearly the authorities felt that enough pro- gress has been made for a general assessment of progress. I still believe it is far too soon.
The best result of the changes is that the Sculp- ture Hall, a constant thorn in the flesh of the gallery because of its ponderous proportions and the grim colour of its stone (which affects the light as well as one's spirits), is now given over to temporary exhibitions, with the bulk of the sculpture moved out into other rooms, with paint- ings. The exhibition area has been intelligently laid out and looks fresh and well lit (if too arti- ficially). But it would be even better if the new screening and partitioning could be properly complcted *eve one's head : it is alarming to glafkiii9 Alin contemplation of a David Smith fp^ Gabo sculpture, tactfully placed in this brave nEtrWoild,113d see baleful reminders of old elephant's burial ground. Besides, these massive dark pillars and sepulchral' arches often confuse a tall vertical sculpture which may shoot up beyond the dividing line.
But the galleries themselves are far more worrying. The separation between the British and foreign schools has been abandoned in the gal- leries on the right of the main hall in favour of juxtaposition. Mostly, it just doesn't work. It is no service to Sickert or Gwen John to hang their work by Vuillard: all that is disclosed is the work of a French master with dull provincial append- ages. I do not mean that Sickert is always dull, but he is no match for Vuillard, let alone the near proximity of Bonnard; and the' Whistlers are embarrassing to see next to Degas and Fantin- Latour. It is not very cheerful, let alone con- vincing, to find William Scott and Henry Mundy facing some of the innovations of recent Ameri- can paintings. Is it fair on Robyn Denny to speak of him, in the guide, in the same. breath as Albers and Louis? I don't think so and the proxi- mity of his work to these remarkable painters is a disservice to him, and to the public. In general, the galleries where British, Continental and American art hangs together are disturbing. Individual works are here distributed not in order to bring out individual qualities, but to serve as pegs or links in a corporate chain im- plementing the tidy notions of an art historian. All paintings rebel against this. Rothko's for example, demand the most fastidious siting, height, light (never direct), and above all space, so that they can 'breathe' properly. The example here is scarcely flattered by its installa- tion. As a whole, everything is hung far too closely: the poor quality of many works is another matter. Pollock, notably, is falsified by the unsuitable examples which represent him : a blazing giant is here reduced to a dull pygmy.
More space will answer some of these problems when the extension is built. But the present system at the Tate will always seem illogical to me. The National Gallery drains away the accepted master- pieces every few years: the great Seurat Baignade is one recent casualty which will presumably be followed, eventually, by the Cubist' masterpieces. Given this, and the awkwardly divided function of the Tate in honouring the Historical British Col- lection as well as Modern Painting and Sculpture, there seems to be a clear case for concentrating the whole of British art from its earliest origins, right through to now, in one building where we could see all the references. At present, public know- ledge of this evolution is woefully fragmented and inadequate. Why should we not be able to see early Celtic art, mediaeval sculpture and stained glass, the Opus Anglicanum, the East Anglian and Winchester Schools, Hilliard and his period, pass- ing through Stubbs and Hogarth to Fiche and Riley, with everything spaciously set out, imagin- atively lit and related, in one building—the Tate?
We should also have a separate and wholly in- tegrated Museum of Modern Art, housing de- sign, architecture and technology as well as fine art which, in turn, would incorporate those few modern English works eligible to stand com- parison with Brancusi, Matisse or Rothko. The National Gallery would continue to add-the work of Masters of all schools to its collections as they become historically Old. The present system and future plan are too naive and make yet another hopeful compromise. The Tate should, of course, • 'temporary show' needs seem to head every list of future plans and requirements. It is the collection
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