It's no surprise, then, that I was an early visitor to the latest show in the Queen's Gallery, London. Charles II: Art and Power shares my fascination, exploring how The Merry Monarch used art to validate his reign.
His life up to that point, however, had probably been the hardest of any person to occupy the English throne since before the Norman Conquest. Though his father and mother kept a magnificent court, the tensions that exploded into the Civil War were present from his earliest memories. He was barely a teenager when circumstance forced him to the battlefield, 20 when Parliament executed his father, and by 22 was fleeing to exile as the Royalists lost their last battle at Worcester.
For the next eight years he lived off the generosity of friends and family on the Continent. The early years weren't so bad, hosted by his glamorous cousin Louis XIV. (Charles' mother, Henrietta Maria, was sister to Louis XIII.) But as the Commonwealth's grip on power tightened, France decided the benefits of trade with a current ... though illegal ... British administration outweighed the benefits of supporting a rightful heir with dwindling prospects. Louis asked his cousin to leave. By the late '50s, Charles and a tiny group of friends were living hand-to-mouth in freezing garrets in the Netherlands.
Had Cromwell been a bit less of a Puritan, Charles' story might have ended there. But history proves that few people like the restrictions brought on by religious fundamentalism; particularly not the English. When Cromwell died without an effective succession plan (his son Richard was a disaster), the head of the army took the initiative and invited the rightful heir back home.
Though Charles vaulted from pauper to king, his worries weren't over. He had to re-establish the business of monarchy from scratch when the Parliamentarians had sold off or melted down most of its trappings. He had to reconcile two sides in a society that had been in conflict for almost 20 years. European politics demanded military involvement, plague popped up and London burned down. Through it all, the treasury was never full and Parliament ... the organisation that murdered his father ... controlled the purse strings.
It's thus no surprise that Charles became a master of compromise. The Merry Monarch on the surface, he was a practical man of the people, scholar, scientist and secret Catholic at heart. He was the centre of a newly-glamorous court, but always managed on a budget. (His plans for a palace near Winchester to rival his cousin's Versailles never got funded. He made do with makeovers at Windsor that, while in the height of lavish fashion, were done on the cheap ... thus in poor enough shape by the early 1800s that most were swept away by renovations.) He was often quoted as saying that he had no desire to go on his travels again, thus would do whatever was necessary to keep the new status quo.
The objects on display here illustrate three storylines from Charles' life that have always fascinated me.
- The role of the visual arts in what we now know as public relations, used by Charles to shore up his position and create a new story for his family.
- Charles' career walking a knife edge between delivering the magnificence expected by both the public and fellow monarchs, while limiting spending and staying on parliament's good side.
- How Charles managed his inner demons: coping with, and trying to redress, a tragic family legacy
We start in a room dominated by a somber portrait of the father, Charles' I, captured during his trial. The strange combination of intelligent nobility and pig-headed obstinance that drives so much of the Stuart family saga is obvious in his face. We move to the restoration of 1660 quickly, however. This is an art show, after all, and the dreary years of Civil War, Commonwealth and exile produced little. More often, it destroyed or eliminated art ... making it particularly appropriate that the first blockbuster display here is the plate Charles II commissioned for his coronation.With the exception of the solid gold chalice and paten (the small plate used for the communion wafer), the collection of platters, ewers, candlesticks and a weighty mace is "only" silver plate. Still, it's enough to make a statement of serious bling. The royals were back, and livin' large. The work on these pieces is exquisite. (Check out the cavalier King Charles spaniel characteristically scrounging for scraps from the table of Jesus' last supper; sadly the only appearance I spotted in the show of the era's iconic.) Normally, this set lives at the end of the gallery with the crown jewels in the Tower of London, where you've been overwhelmed with other bling and you're buffeted by tourists. It's a delight to see it here, given its own space in a gallery generally free of crowds.
Though they initially pale before the glitter of all that gold, the prints and books that dominate the rest of this first large gallery provide a fascinating exploration of the Restoration world. The real artistic firepower, however, comes in the following galleries.
One, dominated by a ceremonial portrait of Charles II enthroned (pictured above), is mostly lush and lavish portraits of the key players in the Stuart court. There's no better way to drink in the spirit of this age than to revel in how its key players chose to be remembered: strong men, romantic women, everyone dressed in ridiculously expensive, lovingly detailed fabrics while they flash their bedroom eyes at you. The the real people couldn't possibly have been as attractive as the artists made them. Within the exhibition you can compare some early, and probably more realistic, portraits of Charles' Queen Catherine of Braganza with the sexy, oversized painting of her as a shepherdess. This is first-class image management for PR spin.
The last large gallery looks at Charles II's efforts to re-establish a Royal Collection after his father's was sold off. Though cursed with abysmal political instincts, Charles I was arguably the greatest single connoisseur of art in English royal history. As sensuous in their own way as the portraits, his son's treasures include pastel-perfect Renaissance scenes, photo-realistic Dutch old masters, magnificent tapestries and noteworthy furniture. Most impressive amongst the last is a rare silver furniture set. The table, matching mirror and pair of pedestal stands usually live at Windsor Castle, where they can be lost in the surrounding opulence. Here ... much like that Coronation plate ... their isolation in a plain background allows you to appreciate them for the magnificent items that they are. Especially as the whole set has just been cleaned and restored, shining with an almost eye-damaging gleam.
Three smaller rooms offer additional insight into Charles' re-assembly of royal treasures. There's ornate dining decor, including the magnificent Exeter salt; precious books, some of which demonstrate Charles' serious commitment to science; Old Master drawings (here's the source of the Royal Collection's wealth of Michelangelo, Leonardo and Holbein on paper); detailed portrait miniatures, jewellery and a blockbuster ivory and ebony altarpiece.
Overall, the exhibit does a fine job of capturing Charles' story and conveying the lush style of the court. Your £11 admission includes an interesting audio guide and the right to return to the gallery for a year. As with anything in the Queen's Gallery, the intimate spaces mean the show is digestible without being overwhelming, and you can appreciate items without big crowds.
It is, however, a solidly traditional exhibition and thus perhaps best for people who already have an interest in the topic. Last month I wrote about how the Opera show currently on at the V&A sets a new high bar in how to present culture and deploy multi-media. After that, the Queen's Gallery seems much more solemn, and like harder work. Charles II might have been famed for his common touch, but this show appeals to more rarified tastes.
Charles II: Art and Power is on at the Queen's Gallery, Buckingham Palace, until 13 May.
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