There’s only one news item this week: the Queen is dead. I thought she’d go on forever, or at least until she’d passed the hundred mark, like her mum. All the comments by world leaders dwell on Elizabeth’s consistency and stability. She was a solid, dignified presence in a politically turbulent world, benefiting greatly from never having to stand for election or go out of her way to defend the Monarchy. The Queen was, herself, the best argument in support of this venerable institution. She had an implacable sense of duty and never took her privileges lightly.
This stands in stark contrast with the rest of her dysfunctional family, who have rarely been off the front pages of the tabloids for one reason or another. King Charles III bears an inauspicious name, as Charles I remains the only English monarch to be executed, albeit for pretty convincing reasons. As King, Charles has the job ahead of him to keep the Royals in favour with the public. Over the past year or two, Prince Andrew’s scandals and the Meghan and Harry show have done them no favours.
The Queen’s demise tends to heighten the impression of a world going down the gurgler, with the war in the Ukraine, an energy crisis in Europe, and the United States rapidly subsiding into division and chaos. Take away that stabilising influence and the tide of madness looms larger. In her very clipped, British manner, the Queen always came across as a thoroughly decent person, which may be more than can be said about any other world leader nowadays – with the possible exception of Pope Francis and Albo!
As for the Brits, they’ve managed to rid themselves of the buffoon Boris, but are now in the hands of someone called “Truss”, which suggests a nation suffering from a gigantic hernia that is barely being held in check. “Does the whole world hate Liz Truss?” Politico asked recently, before answering its own question: “No, she’s quite popular in the Baltics, and parts of the Indo-Pacific.” A good start, ne c’est pas?
By way of pure coincidence, Vincent Namatjira’s whimsical portraits of the Queen and her family at the THIS IS NO FANTASY booth are one of the highlights of this year’s Sydney Contemporary art fair at Carriageworks, which is returning after a three-year, COVID-induced absence. Although these paintings are crude in execution and irreverent in conception, they have a remarkable charm. Namatjira has a knack for isolating a particular feature that identifies a person, no matter how awkward the overall likeness. I hope nobody finds anything objectionable about these pictures, which come across as affectionate and mildly satirical rather than offensive. Put them alongside Garry Shead’s pictures of the Queen and one has the beginnings of an offbeat tribute exhibition. Surely some gallery will take up the challenge very soon. I’d happily act as curator myself if nobody else wants to do it.
On the whole, Sydney Contemporary felt very strong this time around. The galleries have become much more professional in the way they hang their displays, and the design of the fair was more spacious. If I struggled to isolate too many stand-outs, it’s because the general consistency meant the highs and lows weren’t so prominent as they have been in the past. I had to write my preview/review on the day before the fair opened to the public, so this week’s column may be a little short on detail or in-depth discussion of individual works. I’ve since returned and battled my way through the crowds, probably seeing less than I did when the set-up was only two-thirds complete.
I’m posting the Art Fair piece right away so as to catch the last couple of days. When I get a chance I’m also going to post some of the columns the Herald has sat on for far too long, and a couple of contributions to the recent Deutscher and Hackett auction catalogue. As the site is strictly a one-man show, I’m often struggling to find time to squeeze everything into my schedule which has become manic again, post-pandemic. But I wouldn’t want it any other way.
This week’s movie is George Miller’s Three Thousand Years of Longing, which has received some mixed press, but not from me. I was seduced by this postmodern fairy tale, which is hardly more than an extended dialogue between Tilda Swinton and Idris Elba, punctuated by a series of fantastical flashbacks. The central conundrum is that old question: What would you do if a genie gave you three wishes? It seems easy at first, but start to think about and complexities multiply. If one ever wished to be King, there’s never been a better opportunity.