Those who believe the world of art is nice touchy feely aesthetics are open to a rude awakening on reading this superbly written and presented text, which uncovers the “dark underside of museum operations” (p. 95). Art is in fact the canvass on which global capitalism asserts its power and monopoly in covert and hence all the more effective fashion. Art is not neutral or value‐free territory. There is much gold to be mined in this book, which serves a multiplicity of purposes. It is of interest to art historians as an example of the final destination of what they study. It is of interest to those in business studies as an example of how art becomes a commodity or brand, and there are many aspects of business ethics residing within. Then there is the public interest in something which incurs public expenditure, subsidies and tax breaks, as well as representing part of travel and tourism.
For those involved in corporate governance there is a valuable chapter on art trustees. We are told that in the USA there have been some notorious scandals involving trustees and underhand dealings (p. 84) but frustratingly no details are provided. However, it is made clear that there is plenty of scope for the art equivalent of insider dealing, and that there is a lack of transparency or critique of the role of the trustee. The chair of the Witney board indicated that it is almost impossible to be a trustee and not have conflicts of interest, with prices increasing by 30 per cent when a museum mounts a show or acquires a piece. Two of the most prominent art institutions are within the control of a single family (p. 96).
The situation in Britain seems to be more mellow, although we do find Maurice Saatchi in the 1980s being a trustee of the Victoria and Albert Museum at the same time as his company was apparently selling on services. When brother Charles Saatchi was a trustee of the Whitechapel Art Gallery in the 1980s, Charles was aware of the intention to mount an exhibition of Francesco Clemente's paintings. Before the exhibition had been mounted, he bought 12 such paintings for his private collection. This sequence was confirmed by the then director, Nicholas Serota.
A worse example was when Sir John Burgh, who had been critical of the Thatcher government budget cuts when director general of the British Council, and was being groomed to take over as chairman of the Tate Gallery, was displaced by Dennis (now Lord) Stevenson in 1988 on the direct intervention of Thatcher. This changed the arm's length from government principle, and Thatcher introduced changes to enforce her greater personal control over appointments at the expense of those genuinely involved at first hand in art. Bernard Levin was moved to question whether we were at the court of Henry VIII or even of Stalin.
So one has to wonder whether there is much to chose between the USA, which is low on accountability and does not pretend otherwise, and Britain, which pretends otherwise, but fails to deliver. Indeed, developments at the Tate indicated a convergence with the US model of operation, with the binding theme being Pearson Publishing and Lord Rothschild, and even these two had interconnections, and Dennis Stevenson was connected with both. Even more incestuous within the existing incest was the appointment within this narrow elite circle of a married trustee couple. Similar curious interconnections had been uncovered when the reviewer was one of the few elected trustees of Toynbee Hall, which had, incidentally, founded the Whitechapel Art Gallery. When one established the business and political connections of the trustees, it was clear as to how this elite force had been assembled. Certainly, there were pros and cons of such an arrangement. The wider public and local interests were not always as well served as they might have been. On the other hand, there were opportunities of influence and fund raising that would not otherwise have existed. It was Professor Richard Titmuss who examined motivations for blood donation in his classic “The Gift Relationship”. This produced an eight‐point ideal type continuum from a pure commercial transaction at one end, to pure philanthropy at the other.
Another strand which would have added weight to the argument was the role of the Charity Commission at this time. It had come under sustained criticism and various reports had indicated its relative ineffectiveness, even in the simpler matters of maintaining the Charity Register and ensuring the timely filing of annual reports and accounts. Even now it is reluctant to become involved with errant charity trustees, even though there may be corruption, extravagant expenditure, nepotism, and a charity run purely as a family business. The watchword is that they should not become involved in the day to day management of a charity and its governance. The end product is a French poodle of a Commission, which for practical purposes may be largely ignored.
Other significant themes in the book include the changing role of government in the arts, which will interest those who study public policy making. The USA and UK are compared in relation to public arts funding. The way in which art institutions in the 1980s embraced the enterprise culture is also dealt with, as are awards for corporate art, whereby organisations such as ABN‐AMRO and Philip Morris attempt to establish their art credentials for their own public relations, corporate image and marketing reasons. ABN‐AMRO hijacked Van Gogh's self portrait to advertise its credit card. Art awards are said to be less common in the USA, but have increased in scale in the UK. Separate chapters deal with contemporary art within corporate premises, and corporate art collections. The conglomerate arts centre, set up by my acquaintance, Sir Ernest Hall, and named Dean Clough, is in Halifax in Yorkshire and is one example featured. It is seen as a means of the British trying to retain pride in their lost industrial heritage and empire through industrial regeneration.
The conclusion is hard hitting as it brings all the various strands together. The text preceding has been punctuated by telling and often amusing turns of phrase, and the conclusion continues this tradition par excellence. Cool Britannia, Armageddon for Public Arts Funding, Lottery Britain, Multinational Museums, milk cows and fat cats, and towards a Saatchi‐free zone are all ways in which Dr Wu conveys her message. She is an incisive critic of developments, and has taken the trouble to assemble a huge mass of compelling evidence. It will be impossible to view the world of art exactly the same after reading and digesting this book, which also has high visual appeal.
This book represents extraordinary good value for money, given that it is 400 pages of hardback and with copious black and white and colour illustrations. The 2003 paperback version is remarkable value for money at £12. Every business school and university library should have one. Art museum bookshops stock it, as I have verified. It is an excellent example of how an academic PhD (at University College, London) may be transformed into an extremely attractive end product. It is to be hoped that the author may pursue the theme and thesis into the most recent period.
The epilogue must go to the book's cover which had the Mona Lisa with a coin in her eye. This was originally intended to have been the corporate logo of BMW, but for narrow‐minded reasons best known to themselves, BMW refused permission to use it. In the book mark which the author designed as a publicity aid for the book, with the provocative heading “An Eye for an Eye”, Dr Wu avers that “… had BMW had the opportunity of reading our text before rejecting the cover design, their decision would have been exactly the same”. That is a veritable one in the eye for BMW.
