War of a Titian

As I write, the clock is ticking on the National Galleries’ bid to raise the £100 million needed to keep the two paintings by Venetian old master Titian within their clutches. The paintings, created for King Philip II of Spain, were reputedly acquired by the family of the Duke of Sutherland from the Orleans collection in the murky aftermath of the French Revolution. Important, evidently, that such works should remain on British shores.

The Titians are indeed beautiful. It’s lovely that they’ve been in Scotland for so long. I’ve been to see them a fair few times. But I haven’t ever noticed them to be particularly popular. I would never, as NGS director John Leighton is quoted to have done, liken their popularity to that of the Mona Lisa.

On a fundamental level, £100 million is a ridiculous amount of money. That’s roughly a quarter of what the Scottish Parliament cost to build, and people were moaning about that for years. If that kind of money is available for the arts, why are we spending it on two paintings that have no historical link to this country bar their owner being the holder of the title forever linked to the perpetrator of the Highland Clearances? Why is it not being spent on supporting art that reflects the nation and its character, on fostering local talent and buying works that could perhaps grant some form to our identity beyond the commonality of constantly griping about devolving? That kind of money could support 500 artists for over a decade. Perhaps a little excessive, most artists aren’t that good. Still, the concept that such money could exist, and is being raised simply to be passed back into private hands, when it could make such a demonstrable difference to so much else, frankly, shocks me.