Arts
Braggery
Alistair Hicks
The British Art Show (Mappin Art Gallery, Sheffield, 16 March to 4 May; Southampton Art Gallery, 18 May to 30 June) Bragg n. Supporter of a quasi-religious organisation of robbers and assassins in late 20th-century England. Hence Brag- gery — the perpetration of commonly held half-truths on 'the state of the arts in Britain. Reactions to recent outbreaks of Braggery reveal that today's art world is somewhat more confused than the British Raj at the beginning of the 19th century.
The Raj suppressed the thuggees, whereas Braggee remarks supposedly championing the arts continue to be flashed to millions. Just as the violence of the thugs was counter-productive, these messages to the masses play straight into the hands of the far more able opponents of modern art. Auberon Waugh adroitly turns Braggee language to describe the arts lobby as howling fat cats. The arch-villain of the piece, Lord Gowrie, is allowed to slip through the field by making the one telling point. 'I have to remember', he writes in the Observer, `that the glory of the arts lies in our artists rather than in the organisations which serve them.' However, not surprisingly, the Arts Minister refuses to draw the obvious conclusion; it is the arts administrators and not the artists that are the fat cats.
Painters and sculptors receive only 0.01 per cent of the £105 million Arts Council budget. Writers fare even worse. Rather than going the route of direct subsidy the administrators have chosen to justify their existence by promoting the arts. Unfortu- nately neither they, nor for that matter the television producers, are succeeding here either. It shouldn't be possible for Mr Waugh to declare, 'Nobody who is serious- ly interested in art can imagine that the last 40 years have been anything but a waste- land.' It is outrageous. Never before has Britain so excelled in the visual arts. Three generations of British sculptors dominate the world; Moore, Caro, Flanagan, Long, Woodrow, Cragg, Kapoor, Opie . . the list could go on. In the field of painting we are well represented too; Bacon, Auer- - bach, Hodgkin and ICitaj. The British are the only people who are still unaware of this 'Golden Age' and are consequently refusing to invest in their young artists. Despite Sir Peter Hall's loud protestations it is the creative rather than the performing artists who are in dire economic straits. All except the most famous painters, sculptors, playwrights and composers are excep- tionally impoverished. It is not only an insult to say they are fat cats, it is grossly inaccurate. It is the administrators abetted by an overdose of Braggery that are failing the country. A case in point is The British Art Show, which is currently touring Eng- land and Scotland. It is a good exhibition, but not good enough. It is not cohesive. It tries to make too many points to be convincing. Not that it is the ultimate test, but I am certain it wouldn't convert Mr Waugh to modern art.
The second British Art Show brandishes the sub-title, 'Old allegiances and new directions', then divides itself into seven sections. On top of this it effectively has three introductions with the three selectors each giving their version of the last five years. Though containing serious com- ment, most of the verbiage is difficult to read and highly pretentious. Every word seems to be opposed to the supposed aim of the exhibition. As a show that never comes to London, The British Art Show supports the spirit of the Arts Council's policy document, the dung-spreading 'Glory of the Garden'. It is meant to present to those not based in the capital, 'a structured and argued view of the "best" in British art from 1979-1984', but most of the text in the catalogue is self-indulgent artist talk. There is little conscious effort to explain what is most exciting in today's art to people not so versed in contemporary art.
My main criticism of The British Art Show is that it isn't bold enough. The dramatic re-assessment of British art in world terms over the last five years can vaguely be sensed, but it is certainly not being proclaimed to the hill tops. The first 'According to the Arts Council this is an uneconomic pit.' section of the show is excellent as far as it goes. Entitled 'Reinventing the Real, World', its aims are similar to The Han; Won Image (at the Tate last year), bit' it does it better. The catalogue quotes Auerbach: 'What I'm not hoping to d° is to paint another picture because there are enough pictures in the wor,Id; I'm hoping to make a new thing the world that remains in the mind like new species of living thing.' The Anerci bachs, Kitajs, Kossofs, Ayreses McCombs achieve this, showing the vie°. that art is as exciting as ever. For instance if Jon 'Thompson's (one of the rhte„e selectors) flag-waving message had bee' pursued consistently throughout the shevi„ and not bungled under the dreary hearlias 'Reversing the Trans-Atlantic Drift', the crowds might have been attracted. The creative explosion in British scalFti ture was defused by being scattered fouls the exhibition under such meaninglesst titles as 'Visual Poetry' and 'signs Language'. Most of the work in the exi1t. tion is good straightforward work. It stallo',4 on its own rights and deserves good soh words to describe it. The selectors have stolen the artists' creations and are us" them for their own ineffective and e°_,,he. fused purposes. Rooms packed sv; Craggs, Wentworths, Houshiarys, Nis/P ings and Deacons reinforced by the older Flanagan, Long, Woodrow and Pal would have shown just how vital Briasj sculpture is — another expensive trasse opportunity. The last category in the catalogue, fill the first, argues its case strongly. Cafk 'Retrieving the Image', the work of Wa"'-ti er, Bellany, Kiff, Rego and her husba°0 Willing demonstrates a rediscovered 0 ts deep-rooted imagery. Most of these artiS; have waited a long time for their recnVi'' tion and it is not because their painriligisi lack popular appeal. No, the explanatiect for their years of poverty lies in the fade that there is virtually no money to be 018.ai out of young artists, so the commute' t world neglects them. The state has not Yet met the responsibilities of patronage le used to be carried out joyously by monarch and the moneyed few. Gove':; ment claims to have increased busia_,' sponsorship of the arts to £15 million still little compensation as only a mini,sse!"„e percentage of this has gone to creel' - artists. The main thrust of the ment's funding is conducted by the Council, who have consciously emhar411 on a policy of promotion rather 0' subsidy. This isn't working. Over the spring and summer, as °ft heritage is flogged off to the highe.,d bidder, as the strength of the dollar our inadequate heritage machinery bete to bite, I ask you to reflect on whether,' e Government are looking after the arts. I Is answer will be an emphatic 'No'. It obvious that Lord Gowrie's loyalties to sirti's Treasury are greater than to the 34 portfolio, but few realise the finalic' opportunities he is missing. The arts CO make even more money for the country than they do now. We should be managing our heritage (ancient and modern), not selling it wholesale. Britain is traditionally the land of collectors: London is currently °Ile of the two major art centres. The Government should offer financial incen- tives to collectors in return for them keening at least part of their collection in this country. The arts are quite capable of standing on their own feet. If only people Would open their eyes, they could be a major money earner for the country. I accuse the country's arts administrators of being assassins and robbers. They are stealing the money that should be going to artiSts. I accuse the Government of lack of foresight and the inability to meet their co, Mmitments to both public and private funding of the arts. I accuse the critics and commentators of gross Braggery. They cannot see that the Arts Council are failing in their job and they are not pinning Lord Sowrie for the totality for his crimes. For isritish artists' sakes outbreaks of Braggery must be put down ruthlessly and without MY qualms.
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