Arts

The new plunder of art

Huon Mallalieu

From time to time there are outcries in the press and in artistic circles about the sale of yet another of our national treasures abroad.

Recently it was the Fitzwilliam Van Dyck, with the museum authorities struggling to raise the last few thousand pounds needed to keep the painting in the country. Usually two arguments are dragged out against attempts at retention: the first, that the work of art, however important, cannot Justify the large sums needed, and the second, more insidiously, that we have enough examples of the work of the artist or school and the loss of one won't matter.

The first argument cannot ever be combated entirely satisfactorily; too much depends upon individual tastes and priorities. One can merely point out that as a nation we will very happily spend far greater sums on objects and in ways that are of far less tangible benefit to the community. The second can occasionally be justified in the Short term, but it is a dangerous form of laissez-aller, since Britain's position of art and antique storeroom to the world is rapidly approaching that of Mother Hubbard as a bone-merchant. This is at any rate the impression which one gets from talking to dealers at many different levels of the art market.

On the other hand, these fears have surfaced before: first it was the Americans Who were making off with everything in Sight, next the Japanese. Now it is the oil Sheikhs abetted by dealers from Holland, Germany, France and Belgium. In general, Prices in antique shops and galleries here have been lower than on the Continent for some time and this, coupled with the weakness of the pound, has caused a boom for British dealers. Many of them report that foreigners form upwards of 70 per cent of their purchasers.

We shall have to wait until next February for the year's trading statistics from the DTI. For last year, they showed that ImPorts of pictures had dropped by II per cent against 1974, and exports had risen by .17 Per cent. The total value of art and antique imports was £115 million and of exports £151.5 million. It should of course be remembered that one really major work can substantially alter the figures either way, and that these statistics take no cognisance of Objects less than 100 years old. In the same Way the figures issued by the Reviewing CoMmittee on the Export of Works of Art, Which cover the period from July to June each year, only deal with items worth indiidnallY more than £4,000. In 1975, 1900 ieences were issued by the Committee for Works of art of a total value of £29.2 million.

In fact there seem to be two problems rather than one overall matter of concern. There are national treasures, the loss of

which could cause lasting cultural damage, and there are the very much more numerous items of national convenience, which we take for granted as part of our lives, but which because of their export value may become rare and overpriced at home. These last now include all the nineteenth-century furnishings and fittings which until recently formed a part of even the most modest home; the ladder-back and wheel-back chairs and their more genteel and pretentious Victorian dining equivalents; the moustache-cups and postal scales now so beloved of the French; samplers and primitive paintings. When looking at a container being loaded for the Continent, one is tempted to echo the words of the music hall song—with a change of nationalities—

'But all the best seats had been taken by The Argentines, and the Portuguese, and the Greeks.'

To worry about losses at this end of the market might appear trivial, until one considers how few quality 'antiques of the future' are being created at present. This is no great problem as far as contemporary painting is concerned, but it is with furniture and artifacts. It is highlighted by studying an operation such as that of Brian Eldridge, an antique dealer, restorer and craftsman who works from a warehouse in Farringdon Street in the City. A large part of his business consists of converting unappealing and impractical Victorian wardrobes, Edwardian dressing tables and the like into beautifully designed and finished breakfront bookcases, chests of drawers and military chests, suitable for modern small houses. The design is of one period, the wood of another and the craftsmanship of today. No attempt is made to pretend that the pieces are older than they are, and each is marked with the factory stamp. What is unusual is the love, skill and

work which go into

them. Mr Eldridge's craftsmen also produce perfect miniature copies of seventeenthand

eighteenth-century furniture. It is in a way a disturbing thought that these, rather than more 'contemporary' products, may become the prized antiques of our period.

However, it is not primarily relics of our own past which we are dispersing, although this is likely to increase. The Americans, for instance, are showing a new interest in the best English furniture. Because of our imperial past and the acquisitiveness of generations of Britons, we have accumulated a collection of other peoples' art which would be the envy of those great collectors, Napoleon and Goering. This can be justified on the grounds that great art of its nature is above nationalism, but it is sometimes very difficult to decide what should ideally return to its country of origin and what should not.

Within the last few weeks, there have been several major sales at Christie's and Sotheby's consisting of works of art of other cultures, which have been aimed specifically at buyers from abroad. In particular there have been Islamic sales and the sale of the Hooper collection of North American Indian artifacts. Obviously such objects as the folios from the Houghton Shahnameh, which came from America, do not enter the scope of this article, since on them we were merely earning our fee as honest brokers. However, a large proportion of the Islamic works were bought by Arabs and Persians, and nearly half of the Hooper collection by the National Museum of Canada with many other lots going to North America. In both cases there can be no great sense of British loss, for our museums are already extremely well stocked.

It is also probably impossible to tell how many of the Arab and Persian purchases were destined to return to the Middle East rather than to second homes in this country and in Europe—it should be remembered that politics play a great part in international art buying.

More difficult are the increasing demands for the return of national treasures from our museums. Some, such as the recent fuss over the Koh-i-noor, to which no one country could produce a perfect claim, and which had found its most suitable place in the regalia of the Head of the Commonwealth, are obviously fatuous. Others, such as the Ashanti treasures, should ideally go home. But even here we must sometimes take a strong line and regard ourselves as custodians. Not very long ago, one such treasure was handed over to a West African government only to reappear in a European private collection within the year.

In recent weeks, the revival of the idea of a wealth tax has greatly added to the fears of all sections of the art world. The virtual elimination of the private sector in collecting and preserving our heritage together with the comparative poverty of our museums would be a declaration that Britain is an open city, to be plundered by all corners. VAT is already heavily weighted against the home market. A wealth tax would put an end to it entirely.