4 June 2007
Sitting in a factory, surrounded by beauty
I’m writing this in a disused factory. Although it’s the end of May, spring and summer are not words that come to mind. A brisk, chilly and extremely soggy bank holiday wind is rattling the metal roof above the wide open spaces below.
Now and again a couple, a family group or a lone hiker wanders past, pausing perhaps to look at a painting. Occasionally I walk round the factory’s selling floor – a circuit that I can assure you measures almost exactly one thirteenth of a mile. This is my exercise for today and yes, you’ve guessed it, it’s Norfolk Open Studios 2007.
I belong to a group called InPrint, which consists of four poets and five visual artists working in collaboration. And I’ve found that putting on an exhibition is an esoteric experience much removed from what you might guess by the calm, colourful catalogue.
First, you have to move the screens, which have been carefully constructed to make shifting them – or indeed doing anything with them – as difficult as possible. I guess there must have been a competition of some kind.
Then there’s the other heavy work: hanging the pictures. One particularly striking piece in which I have a vested interest consists of three weighty vertical items that have to be hung exactly level. Not easy: how about a step formation? The artist quite rightly, demurs, and gradually it comes together.
The real pleasure of course is seeing visitors come and view the various works of art – but even then it’s not plain sailing. Do you engage them in conversation and feel like a car salesman, or do you leave them to their own devices and appear stand- offish?
Visual art is a curious thing. If you measure the amount of work put in, and add the creative vision, the prices (with the exception of the top-of-the-range models) are tiny – probably less than what you’d pay a management consultant for a day’s work. But of course most of us don’t employ management consultants, and splashing out the cost of a couple of dishwashers – or even a small TV – when you can’t actually do anything with what you’ve bought except put it on display gives pause for thought.
Do we need it? It reminds me of something Stephen Donaldson, the fantasy writer, put in the mouth of a visitor from this world to one where beauty was a vital part of everyday life.
He said: “We have beauty too. We call it scenery... It means that beauty is something extra. It’s nice, but we can live without it.”
Or can we?
www.inprintartsandpoetry.co.uk
Out of step with the unholy brotherhood
I have a soft spot for Professor James Beck, who died last week. He was an authority on the Italian Renaissance who found himself out of step with what he called “the official art establishment, which appears to be composed of an unholy brotherhood of influential critics, powerful galleries, prestigious collectors, leading newspapers and magazines and the major museums”.
Anyone who has questioned the established views on climate change will know exactly how he felt. They will also understand why his views on the restoration of paintings met the reaction they did.
He was a minimalist when it came to touching the old masters, but found himself opposed by those who favoured thorough cleaning and restoration work. He pointed out that modern restoration projects, in the words of his obituary in the Daily Telegraph, “were very often funded by major sponsorship and, as such, under pressure to produce spectacular results”.
Naturally, within the art world, “scientists, conservators, curators and scholars all have a vested interest… a light going-over with a feather duster offered little in the way of employment or kudos for them”.
A lighter touch on climate change would have a similar result for the thousands of people whose future is invested in the dogma of catastrophe, of course – just as admitting the ineffectiveness of speed cameras would have disastrous consequences for those making money out of the road safety industry. Presumably this is why the Government cancelled research into the negative effects of cameras.
In almost any area you look you will find an unholy brotherhood whose livelihood depends on maintaining a particular spin on reality. That is why Albert Einstein said: “Unthinking respect for authority is the greatest enemy of truth.” It is also why Al Gore is doing very well, thank you.
Europe imposes muntjac quota
Following the rescue of three muntjac deer from the sea off Lowestoft, the European Union has acted swiftly.
A quota has been imposed on the number of deer caught, and the size of the nets used to catch them has been restricted.
Spokesperson Annette Rotwild said yesterday: “If we do not impose these measures, the traditional stock of muntjac in the sea off Lowestoft will simply disappear. It will be an ecological disaster.”
But radical cleric the Rev Nick Repps-cum-Bastwick said the move was distinctly fishy. It could have dire consequences for the thriving deer-catching industry in Lowestoft, and he hoped the Prime Minister, whoever he might be, would intervene to save the town.
Deer and chips was a popular local delicacy, he added.
Hingham democracy lives
Those with long memories will recall the notorious Scout Hut incident in the Autonomous Republic of Hingham towards the end of the last century, in which a new form of local democracy was invented by the council. This involved asking people what they wanted, and then ignoring them.
Readers will be glad to hear that Hingham democracy, taken up enthusiastically by the Government of the day, is thriving. Here are two examples:
A huge majority of ordinary people and 93 per cent of Norwich GPs are against the loss of community beds and cottage hospitals across Norfolk. Under pressure from the Government, the Primary Care Trust is making plans to lose both beds and hospitals.
In Norwich, members of the highways committee have approved changes to residential parking permits which favour smaller cars – after carrying out a consultation revealing that 52 per cent of residents were against and only 35 per cent in favour.
No, it’s not dictatorship. In a dictatorship, I would not be able to write this.