Royal Academy of Arts: 250th Anniversary

Lord Jones Excerpts

Wednesday 12th December 2018 Lords Chamber

[Lord Jones (Lab)]

My Lords, in another place, in 1970, I listened to the fine maiden speech of the noble Lord, Lord Cormack. He has kept up that standard over these 48 years. I thank him for obtaining the debate and leading it persuasively tonight. He has been an exemplary stalwart for the arts, culture and heritage in our two Houses.

It is a great privilege to be here at the heart of the British state. Our great sovereign is just down the Mall, the Commons Speaker and the Lord Chancellor are just down the Corridor. Across the road is the Lord Chief Justice in the Supreme Court and the abbey, with its mighty national history and attendant Prelates. The Prime Minister is in Downing Street and the Chief of the Defence Staff is in his Whitehall bunker.

I should like to think that the academy is also part of the warp and woof of our British state. It has earned such a place and, if they were here, notwithstanding their rivalries and disputatious natures, I guess that PRAs Joshua Reynolds, Mr Constable and the great JMW Turner would agree. I think they would like that. The RA can be inspirational and is a great institution.

I have held my Royal Academy friends card for 35 years or more, and have my Tate—Britain, Modern and Liverpool—pass and my National Art pass as well. I greatly appreciated the landmark exhibition of the RA entitled “British Art in the 20th Century”. That was a 1987 exhibition but I found it stimulating and startling. It was highly controversial as far as the art critics were concerned. I recollect the names of Shepherd, Graham-Dixon and Spurling; and Feaver crashed in heavily with his reporting on what had been selected and where it was hung.

This year, we have been greatly connected with the First World War and, four years ago, with its beginnings. From an exhibition that year, I remember to this day Mark Gertler’s terrifying “Merry-Go-Round”, which depicts soldiers and civilians screaming in a kind of pain. It was an instant success; a hit. I recollect CRW Nevinson’s depiction in black, white and grey of a company of soldiers resting; he portrayed the sheer exhaustion of the company of men and, understandably, their no little apprehension. I also recollect Sickert, who depicted Pierrot on Brighton promenade. Interestingly, many of the deckchairs in that painting are empty; the artist is making a point about casualties, and given the wind conditions, you could hear the great guns across the Channel.

In the same exhibition, Paul Nash’s depiction of a sea made up of broken aircraft fuselages is a powerful Second World War image. Another, which I found particularly interesting and rather sad, was Rodrigo Moynihan’s 1943 painting, “Medical Inspection”. A doctor is seated at a table with a group of men with naked torsos who are—I would not say starving, but of poor physique. They are the common man put into uniform, now having taken much of it off and waiting to be inspected. It is a powerful image and in some respects still relates to British society. I also mention Gwen John—is she better than her bombastic brother? In contrast to the images of war, I point out her painting “The Convalescent”, a sad depiction in a gentle, rather weak, palette.

Another great exhibition, bringing great credit to the Royal Academy, was that of Frans Hals. He might have liked Henry Ford, who told us, “You can have any colour you want so long as it is black”. Hals had his black as well: “Regentesses of the Old Men’s Alms House” is a depiction of five elderly ladies—distinguished, prosperous ladies—waiting for death. The catalogue, which I still have, depicts an enlarged hand; we in your Lordships’ House may recognise what is not a youthful hand. Hals was a remarkable man who threw the paint around, but in this instance he was very specific.

I am an enthusiast, not an expert, but I recommend consideration of Poussin. In a great exhibition of his work, there were enormous canvasses from the Louvre. The one that caught my eye, in the biggest gallery, was “The Holy Family on the Steps”. It demonstrates his remarkable palette and how he masters geometry and perspective with no little subtlety; he was a classical painter. He had a truly memorable self-portrait: very powerful, very vain and very assured.

One of the great exhibitions in terms of popularity was very recent—the Hockney. I have never known an exhibition so crowded, and going down the steps into the reception area, what did you hear? It was pleasure. People were thrilled to be there. I remember, however, one very sniffy Daily Telegraph critic who said that Hockney had been a theatre painter. I think that was his way of dismissing Hockney. But surely his Lincolnshire wolds—his depictions of the farmed landscape and those beautiful green trees—have to be admired greatly.

There has been no little controversy at the Royal Academy. One of the great controversies involved a reference to the Moors murders: a large portrait made by the hands of children created a great deal of controversy. But, that is art. I dare say some remember the dinner the Academy gave for the great Sir Winston Churchill, at which the then-president Sir Alfred Munnings laid into modern art. It was not well received at all, but you cannot take from Munnings the credit for his equine portraits. I try to assess as a humble enthusiast.

The Academy places artistic genius before us. It celebrates and encourages British art and culture. Perhaps we are somewhat elitist when we are thronging the galleries of the RA, but one does see parties of children, and there is the trickle-down effect. However, it is expensive. I went to the NPG to see those lovely Gainsborough portraits, and it cost £16. You are not going to travel from Bolton to spend that—and how do you get from Bolton to the NPG? My point is that there is the trickle-down effect, but travel is very costly. In many ways the RA is metropolitan par excellence. I do not see how it could be otherwise. But when you go to such exhibitions now, you hear the voices of people from Europe. Whether that is the consequence of the Channel Tunnel, I am not sure, but it is cosmopolitan, international and successful, and I very much support the approach of the noble Lord, Lord Cormack.