What makes a “good book”?

It’s a good question. I’ve decided that it isn’t necessarily one that simply reflects back at you your own ideas. It is far more interesting to read a book which challenges you to think about things for yourself. This is certainly the case with Lanny May Freedman’s What happened to art? which I’m reading at the moment.* The chapter I read last night deals with the question of patronage in art. Wearing my old sociological hat, of course, it is not surprising that I find this equation particularly interesting. The trouble is, however, that while recognising the importance of what she has to say, I find myself getting annoyed by the very partial nature of her argument.

I have been aware of the historical role of wealthy collectors and patrons such as Peggy Guggenheim. A particular interest of mine has been the development of Italian modernism, and the influential part played by figures such as Eric and Salome Estorick, and Giuseppe Iannaccone. Freedman’s chapter on patronage of the arts in Britain provided me with some important information about the key part played by a very narrow circle of key figures, much of which is new to me. I had not registered before just what an influential and strategically-placed figure Nicholas Serota has been, and I had not appreciated before the scale of the impact of the Saatchis as collectors. Fascinating as this material is, however, it does occur to me that to confine one’s consideration of patronage to this aspect of the picture is to miss some extremely important points.

Whereas Freedman is right to point to the way in which a very small circle of influential and wealthy people has been extraordinarily important in the creation of the phenomenon of the “Young British Artists” this actually touches upon only a very small part of the total market for art. The work that attracts attention in Apollo magazine has little in common with recent winners of the Turner Prize, I see regularly, for example, catalogues from the London gallery Messums, and if they are at all typical of the taste of high-end galleries in the capital then the “YBA” phenomenon represents a rather small segment of the market. Moving on down the ladder of prestige, I believe that the material offered (and sold successfully) by the majority of ordinary provincial galleries owes little if anything to the influence of figures such as Damien Hurst or Tracey Emin. A brief survey of the pages of the monthly magazines which serve in interests of the majority of Britain’s amateur artists, such as The Artist, will indicate the extreme degree of the segregation of the art market.

I would love to know, despite the millions spent by the few most wealthy collectors, or disposed of by the most influential public galleries, just what proportion of the total market for art in this country is represented by this small coterie. The art produced by the majority of British artists, and bought by the British public, has little in common with the interests of a small segment of the art world located in the capital.

*My responses provided that starting point for my two preceding posts.

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