5.

‘POLITICAL PAINTERS’

Speech to the Royal Academy banquet, Burlington House, London, 30 April 1932

It is very characteristic of the chivalry of the Royal Academy that you should, on this occasion, have picked out among all the politicians who were at your choice for the places of honour at your gathering the Home Secretary [Sir Herbert Samuel] and myself, two of the least understood politicians outside that festive scene. Here we find sanctuary. I would not dream of lecturing the Royal Academicians on your art. Outsiders might do that but, as a humble amateur, I treat with the greatest possible disciplinary respect the eminent leaders of the profession. I will tell you something about another ‘Academy’: not only a ‘Royal Academy’, but at the present time a ‘National Academy’, and it resides at Westminster, from which quite a number of the guests have come tonight. The National Government has a great deal in common with the Royal Academy. It is not so ancient, and it may not live so long – but it meets an indubitable public need, and it embraces – I am not quite sure that the word ‘embrace’ was well chosen, but I will let it pass – every style and every shade of political artistry.

I must tell you about some of the leading political painters. First of all there is the Prime Minister [Ramsay MacDonald]. How glad we all were to learn that his health is so much better. His works are well known. We all regret that they are not more frequently visible at home. He has been exhibiting so much in foreign countries lately that we rather missed his productions here. I believe that on the continent he has several most important masterpieces still unhappily in an unfinished condition – and we look forward hopefully to their arrival and to his return. I have watched for many years the Prime Minister’s style and methods, and for a long time, I do not mind saying, I thought there was a good deal too much vermilion in his pictures. All those lurid sunsets of capitalist civilization began rather to pall upon me, and I am glad to see he has altered his style so fundamentally. In all his new pictures we see the use of cobalt, of French ultramarine, of Prussian blue, and all the other blues – not excluding, I am glad to say, the British true blue – that cerulean, that heavenly colour we all admire so much. I think the Prime Minister in his pictures uses blue very much like the late John Sargent, not only for atmosphere but for foundation, and I personally like his modern style very much better than the earlier method.

Then there is the Lord President of the Council [Stanley Baldwin], who, I can assure you, is still quite a distinguished painter in our Academy. If I were to criticize him at all, I would say that his work lacks a little in colour, and also is a little lacking in the precise definition of objects in the foreground. He, too, has changed in his later life not only his style but also his subject. We all miss very much the jolly old English pictures which he used to paint – ‘The Worcestershire Farm’, ‘Pigs in Clover’ and ‘Broccoli in Autumn’. Above all, we miss just now that subject which no pencil could have done more justice to than Mr Baldwin’s – ‘Brewing the Audit Ale’. Making a fair criticism, I must admit that there is something very reposeful about the half-tones of Mr. Baldwin’s studies.

Then we have in our Academy the Dominions’ Secretary [J. H. Thomas], who represents what I might call a very fruity type of cubism. Some people think it shocking; others say it lacks conviction. That is a very serious criticism, is it not? Nevertheless, it is certainly a most interesting contribution to our national show. I trust you will want to ask me how it is that I am not exhibiting these days. Why is it I have not got a row of important pictures on the line at my Academy? I will be perfectly frank with you. I make no concealment; I have had some difference with the committee – the hanging committee. Luckily their powers are limited so far as I am concerned, and I am not submitting any of my works for their approval this year. I have joined the teaching profession. We have a sort of Slade School at Westminster. They are a fine lot of young students, most ardent and with much before them – to learn. I am endeavouring to assist them in acquiring a knowledge of parliamentary technique. I have a few things on the easel of my own which I hope some day to present to the public. After telling you these few things about our political academy I am sure the company will join with me in drinking the toast of your own.