Martin Gayford questions the point of art shows. Should they educate or give pleasure — or both?
Towards the end of June, 1814, Maria Bicknell, the wife-to-be of the painter John Constable, went to an exhibition at the British Institute on Pall Mall. It was the second retrospective exhibition ever held in London. The first, the previous year, was devoted to the work of Joshua Reynolds and had been so popular that special evening viewings by candlelight were announced. The same was done in 1814 for the follow-up, a joint show of work by Hogarth, Gainsborough and Richard Wilson.
Maria managed to get a ticket for one of the candlelit evening sessions, only to be disappointed. ‘I prefer it infinitely by day,’ she wrote to Constable; ‘it was crowded to excess, certainly a very fine place to see, and be seen.’ So only two years into the history of blockbusters, their main drawback had become apparent: too many other people want to see them; their success is as much social as artistic.
What is the point of exhibitions? As a critic, one spends most of one’s time reviewing them, and yet there is no real agreement as to what their function is. According to Nicholas Penny, the new director of the National Gallery, the point of exhibitions is to teach the public, and consequently, as he told Martin Bailey of the Art Newspaper, he does not much like the word ‘blockbuster’, ‘which masks the distinction between entertainment and education’. At the National Gallery, he went on, ‘We are in the education business, and are concerned with quality.’
That, however, sounds a little puritanical. Art, after all, is enjoyable. It can cause pleasure, as well as awe, terror, contemplation, relaxation, horror, rage, pity, laughter and the more inexplicable varieties of visual delight. ‘Education’ and ‘quality’ are pallid words to describe all that. Nor is there any incompatibility between what we find entertaining and what we learn from. Nonetheless, Mr Penny has a point.
He belongs to a long tradition of exhibition suspicion, which was eloquently articulated by the late Professor Francis Haskell (with whom, as it happens, Penny collaborated on an excellent study, Taste and the Antique (1982). Haskell devoted his last book, The Ephemeral Museum (2000), to the history of exhibitions, and a mild warning against them.
More articles from: Martin Gayford | this section
Post this entry to: del.icio.us | Digg | Newsvine | NowPublic | Reddit
Advertisement
Henrietta Bredin visits Oslo's new opera house and finds it impressive, both inside and out
Radical light: Italy's Divisionist Painters 1891-1910
National Gallery, until 7 September, Sponsoered by Credit Suisse
Black Watch
Barbican
Whatever Happened to Cotton Dress Girl?
New End
Divas
Apollo
Le nozze di Figaro
Royal Opera House
The Mist
15, Nationwide
Charles Spencer on turning into a Bob Dylan obsessive
Robin Holloway on César Franck
Leon Kossoff: Unique Prints
Art Space Gallery, 84 St Peter's St, London, N1, until 21 June
Paintings of Stockport by Helen Clapcott
Stockport Art Gallery, until 28 June
Artful Codgers (Channel 4); My Israel (BBC4)
Mari Lassnig
Serpentine Gallery, until 8 June
Alison Watt: Phantom
National Gallery, until 29 June
Superb photos, independent review, and exclusive online specials.
Superb photos, independent review, and exclusive online specials.
PORTA METRONIA, ROME Standing high on the top of one of the seven hills of Rome- the Coelian- this unique
ROME and PARIS: over 350 holiday rentals apartments listed: visit www.romanreference.com and www.parisreference.com or call +39 0648 903612.
Goldsmiths by Design Welcome to Ruffs! You have found a company of Goldsmiths that specialises in the manufacture, amongst other
Spectator Business | Apollo Magazine
Corporate | Advertising | Privacy | Terms
Spectator, 22 Old Queen Street, London, SW1H 9HP
All Articles and Content Copyright ©2008 by The Spectator | All Rights Reserved
Blue
May 16th, 2008 12:36pmYou might as well ask what is the point of theatre, or fiction, or poetry, or film, or any creative output for that matter.
It makes a nonsense of observing "But Proust went to see it, and it inspired the famous passage..." So? just one creative work inspiring another one, which, according to the thesis of this rather odd article, would be pointlessness inspiring pointlessness.
One point of blockbusters is that they bring the world's masterpieces to within arm's reach. I'm unlikely to visit China or Russia in the near future but now I've had the opportunity to see these works in person.