Words by Kelly-Ann Barathraben
Apparently the corridors of power are lined with more art than you can shake a paint brush at and it's no coincidence that, at the height of the debate on funding for the arts, key British politicians are lending some of it to a public showcase. If, like me, you were totally oblivious to the fact that The Government Art Collection existed, you might be surprised to learn that pieces by artists such as Tracey Emin, LS Lowry, William Marlow and Elizabeth Frink form part of its vast assortment of works held privately in various government buildings including Number Ten. For the first time in its century-long existence The Government Art Collection is going rogue with what I expect will be mixed reactions.
London's Whitechapel Gallery will be hosting the exhibition of pieces selected by these high profile figures:
- Lord Boateng, former Government Minister and British High Commissioner to South Africa
- The Prime Minister’s wife, Samantha Cameron
- Deputy Prime Minister, Nick Clegg
- Lord Peter Mandelson, former Business Secretary
- Dame Anne Pringle, British Ambassador to Moscow
- Sir John Sawers, Chief of the Secret Intelligence Service
- Ed Vaizey, Culture Minister
One of Samantha Cameron's choices is the 1776 Marlow painting, 'A View of St Paul's and Blackfriars Bridge', while Ed Vaizey has chosen works by Tracey Emin and Michael Landy, praising the former for her knowledge of art. Since the opening of Emin's major retrospective at the Hayward Gallery in May she's been an unabashed schmoozer of the coalition key players and has stated that Tories are the biggest supporters of the arts. Speaking to The Independent following outing herself as a Tory voter she said:
"And remember, Tory people are massive collectors of the arts. For a lot of my friends, who think I'm crazy voting for the Tories - I want to know who buys their work? Who are the biggest philanthropists? I promise you, it's not Labour voters."
If this public exhibition of prestigious work is supposed to represent the government's intention to protect and support the arts in Britain, isn't it somewhat of a backhanded slap? It seems Emin's understanding of success for British art is limited to the notion that rich patrons who make rich artists are the necessary fairy godmothers of progress. But what about the non-art world? What about people who never have or will hold a place within the industry but still need to be convinced that the arts matter? Ed Vaizey buys Emin and Landy for his office walls but does this mean he's going to fly the flag for community art projects, funding for public galleries and grants for schools and universities? I'm yet to be convinced and it seems audacious to me that while the government talk about heavy cuts to funding for the arts they are simultaneously showing us privately kept pieces of social importance which are usually stowed away for the fleeting amusement of foreign ambassadors languishing through tedious meetings. Doesn't this bear some ironic resemblance to the Vatican keeping a private church treasure whilst asking their followers to live humbly?
Many campaigns have sprung up in response to the art funding crisis. The most notable among them is the I Value the Arts organisation. Their website encourages being loud and proud about your appreciation of the arts by handing out postcards, spreading the word and adding links to your social media outlets and blogs. There is some floaty talk on the website of the importance of organising local arts events and forming groups but there's no clear direction or assistance given and more focus is placed on online networking. In their eagerness to respond to the crisis of arts funding, campaigns like these are too focused on Twitterati amrchair activism. Keeping the arts alive doesn't start or end with a Twibbon, it's about opening our wallets and showing the government in a quantifiable way that we are prepared to spend on exhibitions, on events and on the arts in education. And it's certainly about figures like Emin being able to appreciate the difference between the success of her own bank account and the success of the public purse. (I adore her as an artist and I think she often has insightful contributions to make, but it's depressing to see her associating the sale of established artists' work to rich political figures with an overall win for British art. There's simply no correlation, in fact that kind of pattern means up-and-coming artists lose out unless they're favoured by Saatchi.)
Personally, I can see myself making the trip to the exhibition at Whitechapel Gallery and enjoying what's on offer there. Only a handful of The Government Art Collection is on show and there's no question that it's historically significant. (Most notably, they're showing a 16th century portrait of Queen Elizabeth I that hasn't been seen in public for over fifty years.) But the 13,500 pieces that grace the embassies and offices of power at home and abroad are only a third of the collection - the rest is kept in storage. Call me crazy but I expect any visible dedication to keeping the arts alive to far and away exceed this kind of mindless 'collecting' and they could begin by lending some of this massive hoard out to public galleries. I would encourage people to take the 'false friend' of a government tuning into our concerns about the future of British art with a big pinch of salt. Let's keep asking them to do better and hope that this exhibition is only the beginning.
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