ARTS

Heritage

Unravelling a taste for monarchs

Palace

5.00 a.m. I arrive at Buckingham Palace to find a small queue.

5.30 a.m. The queue is tidied up by the police. We are asked to get in line on the gravel and move sleeping bags out of the park. Benders are dismantled. As we re- group an aggressive American accuses a small, fellow-countryman of queue jump- ing. 'I've not come 6,000 miles for this,' replies the small man stoutly. Although there are some oddities — Screaming Lord Sutch, for instance, a lady dressed in a Union Jack and a handful of dreamers in Royal-Garden-Party outfits — my immedi- ate neighbours are pleasant. None of us Carol and Sheena from Essex, Paul, a trainee cab driver, Debbie and Francis, dressed in hi-tech cycling gear but with startlingly grand voices — are quite sure why we are here. There is a general feeling that it would be an achievement to be among the first visitors.

6.00 a.m. Police arrive with golden retrievers, which our group knowledgeably identify as 'sniffer dogs'. Camera crews from round the world walk up and down. The aggressive American manages to look the appropriate voice of the Mid-West and is interviewed four times. Vendors of news- papers, sweets and juggling balls pass to and fro but are soon asked to leave by the police. For those of us who lead quiet lives, we briefly seem to be at the epicentre.

7.30 a.m. Francis, the posh cyclist, says gravely, 'This is really an historic day.' The Queen is a presence in our group and her money problems re Windsor Castle are dis- cussed fairly sympathetically.

8.30 a.m. We are certainly being looked after, what with the police, the dogs and the stream of Palace staff in blue trousers with red piping. 'We're mostly fresh off the dole,' says one cheerily. There is even a glimpse of the Lord Chamberlain himself, exquisitely suited, every grey hair in place. He chats pleasantly to the crowd and looks so elegant that his sexuality is called into question. 'He's obviously gay,' says John from Fulham Palace Road. 'No, he's upper class,' says John's girl friend wisely.

9.30 a.m. There is something publicly humiliating about queueing in The Mall, parting with £8 and being escorted by func- tionaries round the top of St James's Park, across Birdcage Walk and Buckingham Gate and into the so-called Ambassadors' Entrance. This is the sole opportunity to buy a 50p leaflet which lists all the works of art in the state rooms (much better value than the lavishly illustrated Buckingham Palace, Pitkin £2.50).

10.00 a.m. Through an airport-style secu- Saturday 7 August 1993 rity check and heading for the Central Courtyard and Grand Entrance. It is hard to resist the wistful reflection that it would have been nicer to have been invited by the Queen herself to one of those hospitable occasions, 'both formal 'and welcoming', described by the emollient Colin Amory in his courtly introduction to Buckingham Palace: A Complete Guide (Apollo £8). For many the feeling of loss and rejection at not seeing the Queen — nor any photo- graph or painting of her, nor associative object — will be intense and might well spark off psychopathic behaviour.

10.15 a.m. The taste of monarchs is on display but needs unravelling. The constant crackle of the intercoms carried by the attendants is distracting.

Despite Charles I's superb Van Dycks and George III's high-minded commissions from Benjamin West depicting scenes of civic virtue, it is the opulent aesthetics of George IV which dominates most of the 18 staterooms open to the public. George IV collected great paintings, too, but these were more easily examined when recently on show at the National Gallery. The chief reason to visit Buckingham Palace is surely an architectural one, to study the boundless creativity of John Nash's work for George IV, his Grand Staircase, his exquisite little Guard Room and his lavish, mannered ceil- ings. Nash did not work alone and he incorporated brilliant etched glass, marble work by Joseph Browne and numerous sculptured plaster reliefs designed by Thomas Stothard and William Pitts which in different ways reflect on English themes, both pastoral and historical.

As a tour of Buckingham Palace makes clear, George IV's death meant the end of a high point in monarchical patronage. Nash was sacked and Edward Blore, `Blore the bore', was brought in to complete rooms and enlarge, adding a dismal east frontage closing Nash's courtyard and re- moving the Marble Arch to its present site.

Prince Albert was the second, and last, royal to have a creative impact on the Palace but sadly we have to imagine his contribution. His artistic adviser was Lud- wig Gruner, a scholarly German artist and connoisseur who created Raphaelesque polychrome schemes for the Grand Stair- case and the Ballroom. (The Ballroom, scene of investitures, is at present closed to the public as it is undergoing restoration.) Gruner also designed a charming garden pavilion for Prince Albert as part of an experimental revival of fresco painting which, shamefully, was demolished in 1928. The Gruner-Albert collaboration though very different from Nash's plaster/gilt/scagiola effects for George IV — looks ravishing from the evidence of contemporary watercolours.

Gruner, who deserves a full-length biog- raphy, always felt that he and Albert were fighting a rearguard action against the philistine English. How right he was! Only his work at Osborne on the Isle of Wight remains. On the death of Queen Victoria, Edward VII brought 'the decorators' into the Palace and painted Gruner out with white and gold schemes enlivened by the odd otiose pilaster. It is this dreary white and gold combined with red carpeting which dominates the Grand Entrance, the former Sculpture Gallery and Grand Stair- case today. The Picture Gallery was also made dull this century by redecoration, with Nash's eccentric lively ceiling replaced by a bland, curved, glass roof.

12.00 p.m. Of course, some part of this building should be open to the public on a regular basis, not just as a stop-gap fund- raiser. The queues would die down, the royalists would have their fill and the expe- rience could become as pleasant as a visit to the peaceful Queen's Gallery round the corner. On 7 August this was virtually empty even though the exhibition A King's Purchase: King George III and the Collection of Consul Smith is a fascinating one. It draws on pictures, drawings and books bought by George III en bloc from Smith in 1762, including Vermeer's 'A Lady at the Virginals', Canalettos, and a Raphael study for the 'Massacre of the Innocents'. In the Queen's Gallery there is also a decent shop, preferable to the stark little tent where visitors to the Palace may buy a selection of depressingly expensive gifts. These are marketed by Royal Collection Enterprises Ltd — a title which seems to sum up the less pleasant aspects of the Buckingham Palace experience.

1.00 p.m. Homeward bound. The queue stretches a third of the way down The Mall. It is apparently shorter than expected and moving at speed.