The show man

11 April 2012
The Weekender

Sign up to our free weekly newsletter for exclusive competitions, offers and theatre ticket deals

I would like to be emailed about offers, event and updates from Evening Standard. Read our privacy notice.

The scene is the Royal Academy of Arts. Seven strong men and a sleek, spider- legged crane unite in their efforts to fix a large fragment of a Chinese Buddha onto the wall. It is Sunday, with only hours to go before the show opens. Norman Rosenthal, a crumpled dandy dressed in a tan leather jacket, green jersey, blue shirt and yellow tie, prowls around, hawk-eyed, like a film director on set. As two tons of priceless limestone dangle in midair before him, he turns away, almost insouciant.

Rosenthal, 57, is no stranger to operations of this kind. Twenty five years ago he arrived at Burlington House in Piccadilly, as the new exhibitions secretary of the Royal Academy. This edifice, a product of the Enlightenment founded in 1768 by George III, is an independent, self-supporting institution for 80 elected painters, engravers, sculptors and architects. "I was a mere boy, very insecure and a bit haughty," he says. "About 10 people worked here in those days. Now there are about 200. The place was in existential crisis. Some would say it still is."

Rosenthal's chief concern is to organise major exhibitions from which the RA (annual turnover £20 million) derives crucial income. His role as exhibitions secretary is prominent, but frequently misunderstood. Technically he is a servant of the members, but he has no official voice. In keeping with his role he refuses to comment on the current debate over whether Sir Anthony Tennant, the chairman of Christie's during the auction house's so-called price-fixing era, should remain as the RA's chairman, or about the impending departure of the secretary, David Gordon.

Neither is he responsible for the Summer Exhibition, held annually since 1769, to which anyone may submit work. Ask him why he cannot rid the place of its reactionary image, or offer membership to the kind of young British artists who made their name with the RA's 1997 show Sensation! (Tracey Emin, Damien Hirst and the other Young British Artist prot?g?s of collector Charles Saatchi), and he explains that such issues are outside his jurisdiction. As well as having to fend off critical lines of questioning from outsiders, he faces dissent from within the RA itself. There is a rump of members who snipe at him - most famously over Marcus Harvey's Myra Hindley hand-print portrait in Sensation! - - through a voracious and willing Press.

"It's up to the members who they elect. But the place is changing. They have brought in Gary Hume, a busy new member who is planning his own room for the summer show. Slowly, surely, the notorious exhibition is becoming less predictable. But it's the sacred rite of members, nothing to do with me. The RA is a curious institution. No one would invent it today." When Rosenthal joined the RA, the ex-grammar school Londoner and child of Jewish refugees from Nazi Europe had already left his mark. At the Institute of Contemporary Arts he curated a German show that led to a brawl in which his own blood was spilt. "The show was considered politically incorrect. I was thought ?litaire (a typical Rosenthal flourish). Actually, I'm now very good friends with one of my attackers. He was part of a Newcastle Brown Ale mob who wanted the ICA to be a drinking club. There's a sign on a nearby wall saying: 'Norman's blood'. You can still see the stain. I personally donated the Perspex."

Such a gesture demonstrates the collision of unfettered vanity and selfless, wild-eyed commitment that characterises Rosenthal. He is on first-name terms with every major artist, collector, curator. Quick to bristle, he has fallen out with most of them, but makes amends with tears and hugs. One of his early champions was the revered art critic David Sylvester, who supported Rosenthal over his 1981 tour de force, A New Spirit in Painting (which he curated with Nicholas Serota - - "still a good friend"). This ambitious review of new figurative art in Europe was as defiant in its day as Sensation!. Suspicious members of the art world accused Rosenthal of favouritism and tried to persuade the likes of David Hockney and Ron Kitaj to withdraw their paintings.

"To his credit, Sylvester persuaded them to stay in. But later we argued over 1993's American Art in the 20th Century. He came to the press conference and started talking the show down. I asked him to leave. And yes, I spat on him. I was very emotional. He was a father figure to me. It was like a betrayal of the son. But we made it up over a cup of tea shortly before he died."

Still passionate, his spitting days are long over. Marriage to Manuela Mena Marques, one of the world's leading Goya scholars and a senior figure at the Prado, has calmed him down. "That, and having a family (two daughters, aged eight and 11). That's a big reality." He sees them on his fortnightly commute to Madrid, a fixed point in his diary.

Given that London has the National Gallery and the reconstituted Tate, what can RA shows offer? "We're a private institution, run principally by artists. A show is a show, not an encylopaedia. It's not about footnotes. It has to be openminded. The purpose of an exhibition is to make things clear."

That is why, he says, one fake is discovered at nearly every show. "We don't set out to have fakes, of course. Sometimes you only know by comparison, when it goes on the wall. If a fake is discovered, that's good, whereas reviewers tend to think it's a catastrophe. But these are tiny things. We should sing the big picture - that these fabulous paintings are in London at all. During the Caravaggio show the RA was transformed into an amazing basilica. I was here every night having Catholic orgasms."

As for recent accusations that the RA is selling out to modish " tendencies", Rosenthal is exasperated. "There's so much that isn't publicly seen in London. Of course it's not all of equal quality. How can it be? The Royal Academy needs to work with outside institutions. Charles Saatchi has made an immense contribution to artistic life in this country. Sometimes what he does is controversial, as it should be. We need more Saatchis, to create debate. He's been a great engine of patronage. And without patronage, there is no art."

Create a FREE account to continue reading

eros

Registration is a free and easy way to support our journalism.

Join our community where you can: comment on stories; sign up to newsletters; enter competitions and access content on our app.

Your email address

Must be at least 6 characters, include an upper and lower case character and a number

You must be at least 18 years old to create an account

* Required fields

Already have an account? SIGN IN

By clicking Create Account you confirm that your data has been entered correctly and you have read and agree to our Terms of use , Cookie policy and Privacy policy .

This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged in