Inspired by our film review of The Duke, about Kempton Bunton theft of Goya’s painting of The Duke of Wellington from the National Portrait Gallery back in 1961, we conclude our look at Manchester Art Gallery’s own brushes with the law.
Since the previous instalment, the gallery had enjoyed a trouble-free few years, but then on 30th October 1984, an educational party visited the gallery. And they really should have known not to touch things…
William Burges’ writing desk, currently on display in Gallery 7, is a well-loved work and always a fascination for visitors. For some more than others, as it turns out. Whether youthful high spirits or mischief, we will probably never know, but while the party was in the gallery, one of their number rang the bells on the writing desk so hard that they came loose and fell to the floor. The tale is told in correspondence between the gallery’s Assistant Keeper of Decorative Arts and the college in question.
Burges’ Escritoire by William Burges 1865-1867 © Manchester Art Gallery
“On the morning of 30th October,” wrote the Assistant Keeper, “a party of students visited the gallery under supervision. While they were in the Pre-Raphaelite Room, the evidence suggests that one of the students must have torn the bell attached to the Burges cabiner. This was heard by one of the attendants in the next room, who arrived to find the bell on the floor and the students leaving the room.”
The college was duly repentant. “The result of our investigations leads us to agree with your opinion that one of our students was responsible for detaching the bell, although we have been unable to identify the student precisely. I can only express to you the sincere regret of the Principal and the Colleges for this most disgraceful occurrence.”
Despite the apology, you can feel the exasperation of the Assistant Keeper when he concluded his letter, “The restoration of this piece of furniture will be a lengthy and tedious exercise. It seems a great shame that despite a ‘Do Not Touch’ notice, the students seem incapable of desisting. I hope that you will ask them to be more thoughtful in the future.”
Detail of Burges’ Escritoire, showing the three bells
College students should indeed know better, but signs and barriers mean even less to a nine-year-old child and, sometimes, the temptation is just too much.
Captive Andromache by Lord Frederick Leighton is a big painting in size and theme. It is probably one of our most damaged paintings. It had already had its glass smashed in the suffragette outrage of 1913. It was also damaged when a man accidentally tripped over the barrier and put his hand through it (all repaired now, and barely visible). But it suffered its ultimate indignity in March 2003.
Captive Andromache by Lord Frederick Leighton c.1888 © Manchester Art Gallery
It was a school trip; primary school pupils and accompanying adults arriving at the gallery for a fun and educational trip. The pupils had been talking about the new artists they had come across and were enjoying seeing some works they had talked about in class.
It was all fun and games until one child, with pencil and clipboard, thought it would be an interesting experiment to take a pencil to the painting and try to push the point up the naked boy’s bottom. Well, let’s face it, you’re nine, you would, wouldn’t you?
Details of Captive Andromache, showing tableau with boy (left) and the damage inflicted (right) to the boy’s bottom © Manchester Art Gallery
The damage report states that “the barrier was obviously ineffective in this situation,” and the assumption was that an unsupervised child had done the damage and evaded capture on CCTV. The school was very apologetic in their letter:
“After such a successful trip, it was very distressing and embarrassing to have to contact you regarding the matter of the painting.”
The young child concerned also showed remorse for their act, as an item in our artist's file can attest…
The hand-made Sorry card
We rarely get ‘Sorry’ cards. Luckily, our conservators were able to repair the damage to the painting. Today, if you didn’t know where to look, you wouldn’t even notice. But please don’t step too close to examine it. We don’t want another accident.
That’s one reason we have ‘Do Not Touch’ signs on works. Sometimes it’s because they are fragile, sometimes they’re expensive, other times it’s because the sweat and oils from your fingers can be transferred and absorbed by the material the item is made from, tarnishing it and damaging it. One brush of the fingers might do nothing, but thousands of times over decades?
Manchester Art Gallery Signage
We do occasionally have maquettes of objects out for handling. And our Stories We Share sessions actively encourage it.
Otherwise, as a general rule of thumb, without a clear invitation, it’s best not to touch. If you don’t touch, then you can’t damage.
However, it is heartening to note that gallery incidents like these are still a rare occurrence, touch wood (No, not the picture frames!). So, as they used to say on BBC’s Crimewatch;
BBC’s Crimewatch programme with presenter Nicky Campbell ©BBC