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What should an Australian museum collect? How should permanent collections affect exhibition policy? Who should decide what to buy? These are three provocative questions raised by the current survey of English art over several centuries at the Art Gallery of South Australia, an exhibition drawn exclusively from its permanent collection.
Radford has bought some sensational paintings, often masterpieces by minor masters, such as Cornelius Ketel’s Richard Goodricke of Ribston, Yorkshire (reproduced above). It is a stunning image of a lovesick young man with a beautiful, quizzical and expectant white face, framed against his black costume, delineated with refined elegance, begilt and bejewelled, probably for his wedding in 1578. Ketel’s works are rare, and this is one of his few signed pictures. Leaving such considerations to one side, the portrait is so beautiful, so fluidly painted, it scarcely matters who painted it or who sat for it, but reading the catalogue entry one can understand how such a man fathered nine children. The author justly states that this painting, acquired in 2004, is one of the few Elizabethan portraits in Australia, the others all being in the same exhibition. Similar claims could be made about the impressive miniatures in the show.
The subject matter of much early British art from the Elizabethan period onwards was portraiture, which Radford clearly enjoys. Then the scene changes to landscape and marine painting, and other media such as watercolours, prints, works on paper by J.M.W. Turner and some sculpture. It is in the nineteenth century that one sees the interrelationship between British and Australian art, notably with such figures as Samuel Howitt and William Glover. Holman Hunt’s unforgettable painting depicts the resurrected Christ emerging from a never-ending white tape. Hunt began this work in 1847 and finished it towards the end of his life, in 1897. It conveys an intensity of feeling that provokes questions about what happened in British art after the climax of this exhibition.
This survey also contains works by famous artists: Anthony van Dyck’s charming portrait of a married couple; William Hogarth’s William FitzHerbert; Thomas Gainsborough’s Madam Lebrun; and Joshua Reynolds’s Dr John Armstrong. The condition of all these paintings is not always of the highest quality. Those that are of extraordinary quality are by lesser-known figures, such as the Mary Wither of Andwell, by Mary Beale, England’s first woman artist; Cornelius Johnston’s portrait of a woman; and Michael von Mireveldt’s ravishing portrait of one of the greatest British collectors, George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, who is dressed in an ostentatious pearl suit. Radford also includes a work by the great French artist Nicolas de Largillierre (Frances Wollascot, an Augustinian nun), his excuse being that the subject is British and thus germane to his survey.
Inevitably, the exhibition invites comparison with what happened elsewhere in Australia in terms of creating collections of British art. The significant point of comparison is the British collection in the National Gallery of Victoria, which is particularly strong in eighteenth-century British art from the age of Reynolds and Gainsborough. One of Melbourne’s greatest treasures, the William Blake illustrations to Dante, is not matched in Adelaide. The current installation has a stunning eighteenth-century British room of considerable distinction. In 1946 Joseph Burke, an Englishman, was appointed the first Herald Chair of Fine Arts, at the University of Melbourne. His election was in part due to Sir Daryl Lindsay, then director of the National Gallery of Victoria. Burke was one of the greatest authorities on English eighteenth-century art anywhere in the world. In preparation for a lecture that I recently gave on his activities, I examined Burke’s archive, including the sections on his role as adviser to the Felton Bequest, a post he occupied for more than twenty years. It is quite clear that Burke was responsible for many significant acquisitions over a long period of time, when good pictures were to be had relatively cheaply, especially in the postwar years. Melbourne also profited from the Everard Studley Miller Bequest, which was intended to augment the English portraits in the collection. As in Adelaide, early collectors in Melbourne loved English art and the gallery benefited accordingly.
The collection in Melbourne has grown as a consequence of a series of significant bequests. Yet one cannot fail to be impressed by the philanthropy in Adelaide. So many works of art have been given by private donors and by foundations, their names proudly displayed next to the chosen works, in a way that is more analogous to the US than to Australia. Although not privy to the politics of the Trustees in Adelaide, the reviewer does have the feeling of a personal individual director’s taste at work with the acquisitions in this exhibition. Radford has a taste for racy pictures, fluidly painted; for portraits that convey interesting people. Pictures bought by committees are often the result of a dreary compromise, and this does not appear to have ever been the case here. I suspect that I am not the only one who is curious as to what Ron Radford will buy as Director of the National Gallery of Australia. He has said it will not be old masters – a pity in view of his track record – but it is bound to be enticing to the eye.
Catalogue details:
Ron Radford
Island to Empire: 300 Years of British Art 1550–1850
AGSA, $80hb, 336pp, 0 7308 3014 4
Exhibition dates:
Island to Empire: 300 Years of British Art 1550–1850
Closes on 13 June 2005
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