by Alan Bennett
Blunt No. One couldn’t honestly say that. It incorporates one or two misconceptions, which it would not at this stage be very useful to go into. Mustn’t run before we can walk.
Chubb Tell me. I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot. Blunt Shouldn’t we be looking at more photographs?
Chubb In a minute. The chronological approach is a mistake?
Blunt Not in itself. But art has no goal. It evolves but it does not necessarily progress. Just as the history of politics isn’t simply a progress towards parliamentary democracy, so the history of painting isn’t simply a progress towards photographic realism. Different periods have different styles, different ways of seeing the world. And what about the Impressionists or Matisse or Picasso?
Chubb Oh, I think they could do it properly if they wanted to. They just got bored.
Blunt is exasperated.
That’s the way art galleries are arranged. Crude beginnings, growing accomplishment, mastery of all the techniques … then to hell with the rules, let’s kick it around a bit.
Blunt But why should a plausible illusion of nature be the standard? Do we say Giotto isn’t a patch on Michelangelo because his figures are less lifelike?
Chubb Michelangelo? I don’t think they are all that lifelike, frankly. The women aren’t. They’re just like men with tits, and the tits look as if they’ve been put on with an ice-cream scoop. Has nobody pointed that out?
Blunt Not in quite those terms.
Pause.
Chubb Are you sure your students like you?
Blunt Discussion is seldom at this level.
Chubb You’re finding me wearisome again.
Blunt These painters – Giotto, Piero – they aren’t so many failed Raphaels, Leonardos without the know-how. Try to look at them as contemporaries did, judge them on their own terms, not as prefiguring some (to them) unknown future. They didn’t know Raphael was going to do it better.
Chubb To be quite honest I haven’t got to Raphael. But where have I heard that argument before?
Blunt If you were planning on going to the British Museum, how was it you remembered to bring the photographs?
Chubb I know. It’s exactly the same argument you were using to explain what you did in the thirties: it seemed the right thing to do at the time. Giotto didn’t have a grasp on perspective and neither did you. The difference being, of course, that art has no consequences.
Blunt How did you remember the photographs?
Chubb I didn’t. I nipped up to the office for them. Good try, though. (He switches on the screen and the photographs start again.)
Blunt No.
Photo.
No.
Titian and a Venetian Senator now comes up on the screen as we saw it in the opening scene with two figures. The Restorer stands right of the screen as before.
Restorer This was before cleaning. (He punches up a slide of the picture after cleaning, now with a third figure [Figure 2].) This is after cleaning.
Blunt I thought there must be something there. With just the two of them, it didn’t make sense as a composition.
Restorer Quite. Though it doesn’t make a lot of sense as a composition now.
Blunt No?
Restorer Look at Titian. The scale is all wrong. He looks as if he belongs in a different picture.
Blunt He does, of course. It’s a copy.
Restorer Yes.
Blunt From the Berlin self-portrait.
Restorer Yes.
Blunt But at least we know who he is. And who the Chancellor is. But who is the new man? An X-ray, do you think?
Restorer Can’t do any harm.
Blunt Wish it were a better picture. Got the velvet rather well.
The Restorer disappears as a photograph of more young men comes up on the screen.
Chubb And who is the other figure?
Blunt I don’t know.
Chubb You’ve identified him before in a different context.
Blunt So why are you asking me again?
Chubb It’s the context we’re interested in.
Photograph.
Who’s this?
Blunt His name was Baker. He was at Oxford. Balliol, possibly.
Chubb Handsome.
Blunt Is he?
Chubb Isn’t he?
Blunt Dead, anyway.
Chubb Naturally. When was that?
Blunt The death?
Chubb The photograph.
Blunt August Bank Holiday, 1935. Margate.
Chubb Vanished world. Hooligans on scooters nowadays.
Photograph.
Who are these gentlemen?
Blunt Chums of Burgess. Cameron Highlanders, I think. Kilted jobs anyway.
Chubb Two in a row. Progress.
Blunt Not really. I don’t suppose they had access to any information above latrine roster level.
Chubb They probably had other qualities.
Blunt I once had a photograph of Burgess with his head under one of their kilts.
Photograph.
Chubb This one?
Pause.
Blunt Yes.
Chubb Odd, isn’t it, that its the irrelevant details that you can recall. An August Bank Holiday in Margate. Not Worthing. Not the Seaforth Highlanders but the Camerons. (Chubb drops several slides on the floor. He picks them up.) Facts, faces, you might be expected to remember you forget.
Blunt That’s the way with memory. The canvas is vague. The details stand out.
Chubb It could get tiresome.
Photograph.
Blunt No.
Photograph.
No.
A slide of Titian’s Allegory of Prudence has come up on the screen, in colour [Figure 3].
Ν – Oh yes.
Chubb Sorry. Must have picked up one of yours.
Blunt No. Leave it. At least I can tell you their names. But perhaps you know it. It’s in the National Gallery. How far have you got on your safari through the nation’s masterpieces? Have you reached Titian?
Chubb Don’t tell me. Venetian. Sixteenth century. A contemporary of Tintoretto and Veronese. In some sense the founder of modern painting.
Blunt In what sense?
Chubb Well, in the sense that he painted character.
Blunt Mmm, though it’s not the slightest use knowing that unless you recognize one of his pictures when you see one.
Chubb Is this typical?
Blunt Actually, no.
Chubb Ah.
Blunt Though it is Titian at the top of his form. Done towards the end of his life …
Chubb Didn’t he live until he was ninety-nine?
Blunt That has been disputed. What cannot be disputed is the style, shining with all the autumnal magnificence of his ultima maniera.
Chubb Too plush for me, Titian. All fur and fabric. Don’t like the look of that dog.
Blunt That’s because that dog is a wolf. (He points to a creature on the right.) That dog is a dog.
Chubb Still wouldn’t want to be the postman. Who are they all?
Blunt The old man on the left is Titian himself.
Chubb He looks ninety-nine.
Blunt … The middle-aged man in the centre is Titian’s son, and the young man on the right is probably his adopted grandson.
Chubb I don’t care for it, quite honestly.
Blunt Oh.
Chubb Something of the three wise monkeys about it.
Blunt That’s not an altogether foolish remark.
Chubb Good for Chubb. Why?
Blunt Because it’s an emblematic painting, a puzzle picture. A visual paraphrase of the Three Ages of Man, obviously, but something else besides. The clue is the animals.
Chubb Was he fond of animals?
Blunt Titian? I’ve no idea. Shouldn’t think so for a moment. People weren’t.
Chubb Rembrandt was. Rembrandt liked dogs.
Blunt Rembrandt’s dogs, Titian’s age. I can see you’ve been down at the Purley Public Library again. Except that
Rembrandt’s dogs are different. Rembrandt’s dogs tend to be just dogs. This dog is hardly a dog at all.
Chubb You mean it’s a symbol of fidelity?
Blunt It can be.
Chubb Hence Fido. And the wolf is a symbol of gluttony.
Blunt One hopes the security of the nation is not being neglected in favour of your studies in iconography.
Chubb One picks it up, you know.
Blunt (sharply) Well, if you do ‘pick it up’, pick it up properly. Yes, a dog is a symbol of fidelity and a wolf of gluttony, but occurring together as they do here, in conjunction with the lion, they are disparate parts of a three-headed beast which from classical times onwards has been a symbol of prudence. Hence the title of the picture: the Allegory of Prudence.
Chubb And I thought I was getting the hang of it.
Blunt There isn’t a ‘hang of it’. There isn’t a kit. A wolf can mean gluttony, a dog fidelity, and treachery a cat. But not always. Not automatically. Take the owl. It can be a bird of wisdom, but since it is a bird of the night it can represent the opposite, ignorance and wilful blindness. Hardest of all to accept, it can be just an owl. Of course, one shouldn’t blame you. You’re just carrying over the techniques of facile identification favoured in your profession, into mine … where it isn’t quite like that. Appearances deceive. Art is seldom quite what it seems.
Chubb Back to the drawing-board. Perhaps we should do some more.
Blunt Art?
Chubb Facile identification.
Blunt No.
Photograph.
No.
Photograph.
No. Actually, that face does ring a bell.
Chubb Yes? (He goes back to the last photograph.)
Blunt I’ve seen it.
Chubb Who is he?
Blunt I told you. Titian’s son.
Chubb I thought for one delirious moment we were about to make progress.
Blunt Where is it? Come along, come along. This is how you learn.
Chubb goes back through the photographs until he reaches the Titian again.
I have seen him. Where?
A knock at the door. Phillips, a student, stands silhouetted in the doorway.
Phillips It’s Phillips, sir.
Blunt I shan’t keep you a moment. I have to teach now. Since Mr Phillips is paying for his time I think he has priority. Perhaps you might wait outside, Phillips, we haven’t quite finished.
Chubb We haven’t even started.
Phillips exits. Chubb gathers up the photographs and puts them in his briefcase.
I’m not good at cracking the whip. I enjoy our talks.
Blunt (consulting a reference book) So you keep saying.
Chubb Eyebrows are beginning to be raised. The phrase ‘stringing you along’ has been mentioned. The feeling is, you see, that you may just be the baby thrown out of the sleigh to slow down the wolves.
Blunt And who are these wolves?
Chubb They’re like this one (in the Titian). They look back. They’re the ones with hindsight. You’ve told us some names. You’ve not told us the names behind the names.
Blunt Can I ask you something? Who else knows?
Chubb Do you mean, down the road? Somebody had to be told. You were promised immunity, not anonymity. What do you think of the Wallace Collection? Should I go there?
Blunt Their Poussin apart, it’s a bit chocolate box.
Chubb They have the Laughing Cavalier.
Blunt Exactly. Come in, Phillips.
Chubb leaves as Phillips comes in.
Phillips I’ve seen him once or twice. He comes into the library.
Blunt Yes. He’s a mature student.
Phillips I’d say he was a policeman.
Blunt Do you have a suit?
Phillips Suit?
Blunt Jacket, trousers, preferably matching. Even, by some sartorial miracle, a waistcoat.
Phillips I do, as a matter of fact.
Blunt And is it handy, or is it in Thornton Heath?
Phillips I think I can put my hands on it without too much trouble.
Blunt Well, go away and put your hands on it and your legs into it and telephone me here at two o’clock.
Phillips Why, what’s happening?
Blunt Nothing. A little extra-mural work. Off you go.
Phillips goes as the lights fade. Blunt turns to gaze at the Allegory of Prudence then switches off the projector as the scene changes.,
Blunt’s room recedes, a red carpet runs the breadth of the stage, gilt console tables appear and an elaborate banquette, set against a wall covered in (not over-exciting) paintings. We are in a corridor of Buckingham Palace and prominent among the paintings hanging on the wall is the Triple Portrait (Figure 2).
Colin, a young footman in an apron, comes on carrying a picture. He puts the picture down as Phillips, now in a suit, follows him carrying a step-ladder and looking wonderingly at the pictures and the furniture.
Colin Jumble. Bric-à-brac.
Phillips This is a Raphael.
Colin The regal equivalent of the fish-slice or the chromium cake-stand. A downstairs attic, this corridor. (Pause.) And it’s not Raphael. It’s school of.
Phillips How would you know?
Colin Because I dust it.
Phillips keeps looking up and down the corridor.
Nobody’s coming. Sir is out practising with his horse and cart, and madam is opening a swimming-bath. Though in the unlikely event anyone does come by, disappear. They are happier thinking the place runs itself.
Phillips is looking at an ornate clock.
Like that, do you?
Phillips Liking doesn’t necessarily come into it.
Colin It’s ormolu. I’ve always had a soft spot for ormolu. Childhood, I suppose. Ormolu’s fairly thin on the ground in Bethnal Green.
Phillips is now looking at a painting.
Phillips Some of these are in terrible condition.
Colin I can’t think why. They get a wipe over with a damp cloth quite regularly.
Phillips How did you come to work here?
Colin It was either this or the police force. I had the qualifications. Presentable. Good-looking in a standard sort of way. I might even be thought to be public school until I opened my mouth. But of course you don’t open your mouth. That’s one of the conditions of employment. So are you top boy?
Blunt has come on, unseen by Phillips.
Phillips What?
Colin Earned yourself a trip to the Palace, you must have something.
Blunt He does. A suit.
Fool of a policeman on the gate. Insisted on going through my briefcase. He said, ‘Do you have anything explosive?’ I said, ‘Yes, I certainly do. An article for the Burlington Magazine on Sebastiano del Piombo that is going to blow the place sky-high.’ Not amused. I’ve been walking through that gate for ten years.
How are you today, Colin?
Colin Perfectly all right, thank you.
Blunt looks at the Triple Portrait.
Blunt We’re going to take these gentlemen down and put this in its place. This, (He hands the replacement picture to Phillips.) as you can see, is an Annunciation. Perhaps, Phillips, you could give us a technical description of the panel.
Phillips Well, it’s constructed of two planks, joined by a horizontal brace …
Blunt Two planks of what?
Phillips Wood.
Blunt Oak? Ash? Chipboard?
Phillips It’s probably poplar.
Blunt Why?
Phillips Because it generally is. (He turns it over.)
Blunt So that’s the back finished, is it? What about the frame?
Phillips Gilt.
Blunt Old gilt or modern gilt?
Phillips I can’t tell.
Blunt Colin, any thoughts?
Colin Modern, I’d have said. Relatively, anyway. Glazing generally well-preserved. Some worm but there seems to be very little re-touching. Number of holes have been repaired, part
icularly round knots in the wood. It is poplar, actually. Some re-touching here, see. Minute flaking along the outline of the angel’s robe. A few pentimenti visible to the naked eye, most clearly the fingers of the Virgin’s left hand. Reserve judgement on the attribution, but a preliminary impression would suggest Sienna.
Blunt Good. Phillips, the steps. Colin, would you move the banquette.
Blunt looks fixedly at the Triple Portrait on the wall
Hold the steps. (He ascends the steps.) This painting was in the collection of Charles I where it was ascribed to Titian, and it hung with other, rather more plausible, Titians in the palace at Whitehall.
Blunt is addressing this speech to the painting while examining it closely. Meanwhile Colin spots Someone approaching off-stage right. He nudges Phillips, indicating he should go.
Colin Sir.
Blunt Shut up. It was sold off after Charles I’s execution but was recovered by Charles II and hung quite happily in the royal collection, nobody having any doubts about it at all until the end of the nineteenth century. Titian’s beard is so badly done it looks as if it hooks on behind the ears.
Colin and Phillips hurriedly scarper, stage left. The stage is empty for a moment or two as Blunt goes on talking to the picture.
One lesson to be learned from paintings as indifferent as this, is that there is no such thing as a royal collection. It is rather a royal accumulation.
HMQ has entered, quite slowly. She looks. She is about to pass on.
Could you hand me my glass. (Blunt puts his hand down without looking.) It’s on the table. Come along – we haven’t got all day.
HMQ thinks twice but then hands him his glass.
Thank you. I thought so. Where are my notes? (He comes down, still with his back to HMQ.) You’re supposed to be holding the steps. I could have fallen flat on my face.
HMQ I think you already have.
Blunt Your Majesty, I’m so sorry.
HMQ Not at all. One was most instructed. You were about to make a note.
