Cultural Marxism as art heist
Why do I mention an art heist? Because this is essentially what has happened at the National Portrait Gallery, where a number of historical Australian portraits aren’t on display. Not a single significant portrait from the first century and a half of our history; no historical introduction for Australians, for school groups or for overseas visitors wanting to understand something of the origins of this country. The history of our nation has been cancelled and its memory erased.
Some of the works not currently on exhibition are John Webber’s portraits of Captain Cook (1782) and William Bligh (1776), Benjamin Law’s sculptures of Truganini (1836) and Woureddy (1835), a portrait of Sir Joseph Banks by Thomas Phillips (1814), Mr John Eason by W.B. Gould (1838) and a 1798 portrait of Bennelong by an unknown artist. Then there is Maria Brownrigg’s An Evening at Yarra Cottage (1857), Tom Roberts’ portraits of G.S Coppin (1895-1899) and Sir Alex Onslow (1896), a self-portrait by Agnes Goodsir (1990) and a 1789 engraving of Governor Philip by W.Sherwin after F.Wheatley.
...
The mission of a national portrait gallery is to present the history of portraiture in that country. But that is in fact a double duty, which arises from the special nature of the genre. For portraits are pictures of people, and specifically of people who have achieved important things within their community and society. And so a national portrait gallery is not merely a collection of good pictures, or a survey of the evolution of a genre over time, as would be the case with an historical survey of still life, for example.
Such a gallery is also, and perhaps above all, a survey of significant people in the history of a nation. It is an opportunity for the viewer to encounter and ponder the achievement of great explorers, statesmen, scientists, scholars, authors, social reformers, and so on. The uniquely fascinating thing is that each of these significant individuals is also commemorated in a slightly different manner, in the language of the art of their time. So their portraits are a double lesson in history, both in presenting the man or woman of noteworthy achievement, and in presenting them in a way which speaks of their times and its way of thinking and feeling.
A national portrait gallery is thus not simply a fine art collection: it is above all a cultural and historical collection, and an invaluable resource in understanding a nation’s own history. And it need not be limited to people we consider heroes, certainly not the heroes of a particular party or faction. We should have the opportunity to encounter historical figures and ponder both their virtues and their shortcomings; as history shows us repeatedly, the greater the individual and the more important the responsibilities they take on, the more likely they are to end up with a mixed record.
..
But we have seen before that there is a positive hatred of Australian history in many of our museums. I commented recently on the deplorably inadequate coverage of Australian art history at the National Gallery across the road, in spite of the rich collections that they hold and used to display in the past.
The fatuous ideology of “decolonisation” has even led many – not ordinary Australians, but the commissars of the cultural world – to consider that the Australian landscape painting tradition is itself a kind of act of violence or usurpation.
A whole room is devoted to a video work celebrating the Australian women’s soccer team and the large room following the vestibule is, as mentioned above, dominated by the photograph of a pop singer.
At the end of the series of the rooms on the right, the display ends with a wall ostensibly filled with corporate photographic portraits; but the shocking pink background should alert us that something odd is going on, and in fact these are all models who have been hired and dressed in op-shop clothes to mimic the look of serious portraits. The fact that the works are in fact a gag, however, does nothing to make these ugly and superficial pictures more interesting. On the contrary, it only reinforces the impression that the National Portrait Gallery is in a serious crisis: it has betrayed its mission and its management is intellectually and aesthetically bankrupt.
https://www.theaustralian.com.au/culture/national-portrait-gallery-has-betrayed-...