Tate Britain Receives Significant Art Donation

Tate Britain has received an impressive collection of modern art, including pieces by David Hockney and Lucien Freud, from an Austrian philanthropist.

Click on the link below for further details:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-18247221

Picasso & Modern British Art

On the face of it, the concept – an exhibition which examines Britain’s late-flowering appreciation of the genius of Pablo Picasso, along with his influence on a generation of home-grown artists – is appealing. Certainly, if the pre-publicity is to be believed, Picasso & Modern British Art at Tate Britain ranks as one of this season’s must-see shows.

But, with a crowded cultural calendar, (the blockbuster Leonardo da Vinci display at the National Gallery has just closed, while retrospectives of works by the recently-deceased Lucien Freud and the still-very-much-alive David Hockney are drawing large crowds to the National Portrait Gallery and the Royal Academy respectively), does this particular exposition warrant our attention?

The Three Dancers (1925)

The answer is, of course, yes – in my view, any exhibition featuring even one piece by Picasso is worth the entry fee.  And there are quite a few well-known masterpieces featured in this display (including The Three Dancers (1925) and Weeping Woman (1937)), as well as works by the likes of Duncan Grant, Ben Nicholson and Wyndham Lewis – all of whom were greatly inspired by the Spanish master.

Therein, however, lies the exhibition’s fatal flaw – once inside the gallery space, even a cursory glance at the pieces on display leads one to question the wisdom of showing works by the lesser mortals of the British art world alongside the grand master of modernism.

The Tub by Duncan Grant

To put it quite simply, although talented painters in their own right, the offerings of the British contingent just do not stack up to the trailblazing genius of Picasso.  Indeed, with the exception of some ground-breaking pieces by Francis Bacon and Graham Sutherland, almost all the British artworks on display appear to be nothing more than cheap imitations of the original. Which, of course, they were – there are not many painters in the world who could ever hope to reach the standard set by some of Picasso’s best work.

 

But, did we really need an exhibition to highlight this fact?  Wouldn’t it have been better to leave well enough alone, to allow the public to appreciate the talent of our British artists, without throwing their efforts into harsh relief by showing them alongside the glorious virtuosity of Pablo Picasso?

Indeed, one wonders how the artists themselves would have felt about being included in a show alongside the Spanish maestro - I can only imagine that Grant, Nicholson et al would not have been best pleased.

Picasso & Modern British Art

Until July 15 at Tate Britain

Tickets: £14, Concessions £12.20, Free to Tate Members

http://www.tate.org.uk/britain/exhibitions/picassoandbritain/

Watercolour as an Art Form

Tate Britain is about to embark on a major new exhibition of watercolours, with an express aim to push an often overlooked creative medium to the forefront of artistic debate. Judging by the lively discussion which has already erupted in the art world, it would appear that Tate is well on the way to succeeding in this ambition.

The debate centres on the merits of watercolours as an art form, or indeed their lack thereof. It is fair to say that, up to now at least, conventional thinking has often dismissed watercolour as the poor anaemic cousin of oil painting. This is mainly due to the pale, translucent quality of watercolours which are sometimes regarded as insipid, bland, even feeble when compared to the vibrancy of oils. Indeed, the dream-like, ephemeral nature of watercolours promotes an image of transient impermanence, while the opposite is true of the stronger, energetic oil paintings. In short, the general consensus seems to be that while oils pack a punch, watercolours whimper softly in the background.

The Tate exhibition challenges this status quo. Featuring a wide array of works which date from the 13th century to the present day, including early maps by a Benedictine monk to miniature portraits of Henry VIII, the show highlights how watercolours have played an important part in witnessing and recording our long and varied history. This broad collection of subjects also deftly contradicts the notion that watercolour is merely a medium favoured by novice painters who like to dabble in nature scenes. The perception that watercolours depict a limp representation of real life is also challenged. Eric Taylor’s 1945 painting, Human Wreckage at Belsen, proves that watercolour can portray disturbing and harrowing scenes every bit as effectively as oils.

So, will watercolour shake off the shackles of a long-standing dubious reputation to emerge as a respected medium in its own right? Why not go along to the exhibition and decide for yourself?

Linbury Galleries, Tate Britain
16 February – 21 August 2011
Entry Fee £12.50 (Concessions £10.50)
Free to Tate Members and Tate Patrons
http://www.tate.org.uk/britain/

Going, Going, Gone - What's the Point of Art Theft?

In the very early hours of last Wednesday, under cover of night, one of the most audacious art heists in recent history took place in Paris. The scene of the crime was La Musée d’Art Moderne, opposite the Eiffel Tower, directly across the moonlit Seine. A lone masked robber gained access to the famed museum by cutting a padlock and smashing a window pane at the rear of the building. Once inside, the bandit, moving quickly, helped himself to five famous artworks by 20th century masters, valued at around €100 million. The thief’s modus operandi involved brazenly cutting the paintings from their frames, rolling them up and making off by the same route from whence he came.

The impressive haul included “Le Pigeon Aux Petits-Pois” by Pablo Picasso, Henri Matisse’s “La Pastorale” and “L’Olivier près de l’Estaque” by Picasso’s cubism period sidekick Georges Braque. Lesser works by Fernand Leger and Amedeo Modigliani were also taken.

The robbery, however daring, was well-planned and flawlessly executed. The paintings hung near each other in the gallery, and the rear window used to enter and exit is in close proximity to the lanes of traffic that zoom ceaselessly by along the banks of the Seine – a perfect escape route which allowed the thief to vanish into thin air! Images of the bandit going about his dastardly business were caught on numerous CCTV cameras inside the museum. Authorities, however, are puzzled as to why the museum’s sophisticated alarm systems were not triggered. The fact that the three watchmen on duty failed to notice that anything was amiss until the cold light of morning has raised suspicions that the robber may have had inside help, or at least inside knowledge.

Upon discovery of the robbery, the French authorities swung into action. The museum was sealed off and experts began searching for clues. The frames, erstwhile homes to the missing masterpieces, were taken away for forensic analysis. Unfortunately, all this effort may already be too late. The innocuous nature of the loot makes it easily and swiftly transportable. Moving five rolled-up paintings is infinitely easier than moving €100 million, the equivalent cash value. Interpol was alerted two days after the robbery, indicating that authorities believe that the paintings may have already left France.

Given the widespread media coverage of this theft, you would be forgiven for thinking that such a daring robbery is rare. In fact, the opposite is true. Depressingly, art theft is a thriving business. The day after the Paris heist, another Picasso was stolen from the home of an art collector in Marseilles. The unfortunate owner was beaten by the intruder. There has been a spate of similar robberies in Marseilles during the past year. Last January, thieves made off with about 30 paintings, again including a work by Picasso, from another private collection. The previous month, an impressionist piece by Edgar Degas, on loan from the Musée d’Orsay, was stolen from a Marseilles museum.

The above is by no means an exhaustive list. According to the Art Loss Register (www.artloss.com), a database of stolen artworks, there are around 170,000 missing works of art. Interestingly, Pablo Picasso is the most sought after artist, with over 550 missing pieces.

Why is art theft so prevalent? What exactly is the point of going to so much trouble to steal an artwork when the re-sale options are so limited? To be in possession of stolen works is instantly incriminating, so thieves will want to offload the loot quickly. But who would the prospective buyers be? A lot of stolen art, especially by well-known masters, is instantly recognizable. Even to the untrained eye, a Picasso or a Matisse is easily identifiable, so duping a hapless buyer into purchasing a stolen artwork is not a feasible or reliable option. Indeed, any art acquired illegally on the black market could never be exhibited publically; it would have to be hidden away from view forever. Any buyer who is brave enough to purchase a stolen piece is taking on substantial risk - this fact alone means the re-sale value of stolen pieces plummets dramatically on the black market.

In reality, most stolen artwork is not sold on the black market. Increasingly, the paintings are held as “hostages”, while thieves demand ransom payments for their safe return, either from the museum or from the State. In 2005, the Tate Britain paid £3.1 million to recover two paintings by Turner, which had been stolen in 1994 while on loan to a gallery in Frankfurt. (The matter had to be dealt with very carefully, as ransom payments are illegal in the UK. It transpired that the Tate eventually paid a reward as opposed to a ransom – however, the distinction between the two is hazy at best!)

In some cases, stolen masterpieces are used as bargaining chips to help broker deals in the underworld, sometimes being exchanged for drugs or weapons. We also cannot discount the possibility that some of these thefts are “made-to-order”, for wealthy, ruthless individuals with powerful connections and low morals.

This collision between the art world and the underworld is ugly and disheartening. Depriving the public of such profound masterpieces is a highly selfish act, which flies in the face of all that art is supposed to represent. I cannot think of a worse fate for a Picasso or a Matisse or a Degas - to be hidden away, unappreciated, its beauty forever tainted with the dirty fingerprints of its captors.

Christophe Girard, the culture deputy for the mayor of Paris summed up the situation when he said: “This is a crime against the heritage of humanity”. Are the paintings lost forever? Or will they be eventually returned to their rightful place in humanity's heritage? Only time will tell ...