War of a Titian, Part the Second

This month Alex Salmond flew up to Aberdeen on Remembrance Day to attend the announcement of a £50m endowment from businessman Sir Ian Wood for the development of Aberdeen city centre, even though the details of the endowment were somewhat sketchy, and likely to come with strings attached. Why the short-notice trip from the First Minister? Because £50m is a hell of a lot of money (see "Heads Up' this issue for a survey of Aberdonians’ reactions).

It is a wonder, then, that the cost of the redevelopment of the centre of a nation's third city can be put in the same bracket as the acquisition of a couple of paintings. The images I'm referring to are the two Titians that the National Galleries of Scotland are trying – in partnership with the National Gallery in London – to raise funds for, at the cost of £50m a pop. They are currently on loan from the Duke of Sutherland, but he has stated that he needs a down-payment of £21m to secure them for the nation, prior to the raising of the full whack sum.

There seems no easy way to summarise this situation (though the introduction of a 100% inheritance tax over £5m would be one way to start), because while the Sutherland family are effectively issuing an ultimatum to the people, the price they're asking is in fact miles off market value, which would be up around £150m.

For sure, these aren't ordinary paintings. Though Britain has a comparatively large number of Titians (over 20), both in the National Gallery in London and in stately homes in England, and any Titian is a big deal, the two in Scotland's collection are particularly fine. Art historians will trace inspiration to everyone from Rubens to Cézanne in their figures and landscapes, and their themes, while classical, are full of drama and popular appeal.

For a city with such a strong tourist industry, and a nation with such strong ties, both contemporary and historical, to creative culture, it could certainly seem a shallow move to lose such great assets.

In her Art section editorial this month, Rosamund West argues strongly that the money these paintings would cost would be much better spent on grass-roots arts projects to build a stronger and more rounded Scottish arts scene. Certainly there's a strong case there: consider that the Scottish Arts Council's funding for 2007/8 was £59.9m, and you'll have a sense of how much could (and I do mean could) be achieved.

I find it impossible to come down heavily on one side or the other in this debate, but certainly one thing needs to be borne in mind: you can get a lot for 50 million quid.

One idea I do like is that Scotland continues to be a place to view the very best art. And with this in mind, there's one tangent I'd like to throw into the debate. What else could we get? Either instead of keeping the Titians, or, seeing as we're already striking out for £100m, a (relatively) petite additional sum.

Currently showing at the Gagosian Gallery in London is a commercial exhibition of American sculptor Richard Serra’s vast steel structures, which already exist in spectacular fashion in other European cities, not least at the Tuileries Gardens in Paris. How great would one of these pieces look, on the concourse next to the RSA and the National Gallery on The Mound? Great. And there would be some nice conceptual undertones too…

For a city built on a bloody great rock, yet a city, perched as it has ever been between Scottish and English culture, not even the nation’s first capital, a rock-city that is almost a kind of non-place, how appropriate would it be to have a fantastic sculpture, centrally placed, with an enormous hollow centre that people could walk into and feel the simultaneous space and protection?

I don’t know really, but it’d certainly be an interesting addition to the city’s central spaces.