The Times - Save the Titians - change the tax system
We can no longer rely on the begging bowl to preserve great works of art for the nation, by Timothy Clifford
(director-general of the National Galleries of Scotland from 1984 to 2006)

Has any museum or gallery ever been placed in such an appalling predicament? Not only has John Leighton, director-general of the National Galleries of Scotland, got to find £50 million in only four months for Diana & Actaeon, one of Titian’s masterpieces, but he has to find another £50 million in four years to buy its pendant, Diana & Callisto. If not, they and some 20 other pictures in the Duke of Sutherland’s collection, undoubtedly the finest Old Masters in private hands, may be lost to Scotland.

Quite a facer for the federation of galleries in Scotland - the equivalent of the Tate and National Portrait Gallery, with added responsibility for sculpture and prints and drawings. How are Leighton, his chairman and his doughty trustees to succeed when their total annual purchase grant is about £1.25 million? Indeed, have they a snowball’s chance in hell? I spent the best part of 28 years directing first Manchester City Art Galleries and then the National Galleries of Scotland and, with sickening regularity, I and my team were confronted with similar dilemmas, albeit on a much more modest scale.

I don’t envy Leighton his present task. It is understood that these paintings, considered by the artist as a pair and never separated in their long and distinguished history, have been valued at a little under £150 million each. They are “exempt” items (death duties have been deferred) hence the nation can buy them at a vastly reduced price. The “market” price is adjusted by a complicated formula which provides an attractive douceur to the private owner to sell to a public gallery; £50 million each seems a snip. But we are entering a recession, the Treasury is under constant pressure and considerable sums of money, otherwise available to the Heritage Lottery Fund, have been transferred to the London Olympics.

Well, Saturday evening after the Royal Botanical Gardens, Peter and I sped-walked through the National Gallery in the ten minutes before it closed (and that was with the extra-hour opening time for the month of August that we didn’t know about until I looked closer at the pamphlet). I wanted to especially not miss this because I’d seen the BBC reports on the story. And I’ve never been a big fan of Titian (I thought the room of Scottish artists across the way was much more interesting, and the Michaelangelo sketches in the Queen’s gallery at Holyrood were much more compelling and those were just chalk), but still. And whichever way it goes, Scotland will lose the paintings, since if they manage to keep them it will only be with England’s help which will mean they’ll get them only five years out of every ten. Which isn’t bad considering the National Gallery in London gets something like five times the visitors of the Scottish ones, but still. It is ridiculous:

The Sunday Telegraph - Great art is priceless, so £100m is a bargain, by Bruce Anderson

Since 1945, the Bridgewater pictures have been on loan to the National Gallery of Scotland, elevating a provincial collection to the first division in the world league.

Its status is now under threat, because of the democratic revolution. Twentieth-century levels of taxation - partly to pay for wars - eroded the Sutherlands’ wealth. The paintings now account for at least nine-tenths of their fortune.

A family cannot be blamed for realising assets which earn no income and are not even on its own walls. A pair of Titians are now on sale, for £100 million.

That is a bargain. Even in a recession, the great American galleries have vast endowments. The Getty Museum in California has remarkable buildings: the best that modern architecture and a sumptuous budget could create. Only one thing is lacking; there are few paintings of the very highest quality. This is a chance to rectify that, although there might be competition from Russia. Some of the oligarchs are at least as cash-rich as the Bridgewaters were in the 1790s.

But money ought to be irrelevant. In the presence of artistic genius, the cash registers should fall silent, and the two Titians are expressions of genius. In order to understand the High Renaissance it is not necessary to wrestle with concepts. Just go to Edinburgh and spend an hour with Diana and Actaeon, Diana and Callisto. …

As with its sister painting, Diana and Callisto, we are in the presence of an artist at the height of his powers with an absolute command of his medium. The intensity, the beauty, the grandeur have never been surpassed. These are among the very greatest of all paintings.

They have come to market at an awkward time. Public expenditure is out of control; the taxpayer is not in a giving mood. Some people will point out that these paintings came to our shores when we were the richest country in the world. Today, we are in reduced circumstances and our aristocrats can no longer compete with American or Russian oil barons. Great paintings have often followed wealth and power. Now, it is someone else’s turn.

That is a disgracefully defeatist argument. The UK is still the fourth largest economy in the world. There is no economic excuse for failing to protect our heritage. After 100 years of confiscatory taxation, ducal patrons can no longer afford to maintain urban palaces with their own national galleries. The state which taxed away that largesse must now take over the patron’s role.

Or Prince Charles will just end up saving these, too.