Art for art’s sake?
By Callum Tilley
From the suffragettes, to Just Stop Oil, vandalism has long been used as a political act. CALLUM TILLEY explores the legacy of attacking art as a language of protest.
What is the purpose of art, if not to make you think? Art and its iterations – painting, literature, fashion – are constantly used to provoke an audience. All of the best art, regardless of aesthetic beauty, demands of the audience an examination – Oscar Wilde examined excess, morals, and latent sexuality; Sophia Coppola asked an audience to reconsider whether Marie Antoinette was a villain or a victim; Christian Dior celebrated the female silhouette in the 1950s. Despite being somewhat trite, these illustrative examples of art exploring and interrogating subjects larger than themselves across different media forms demonstrate that art is rarely just for art’s sake. Whilst formalist philosophers of art might contend that the value of an artwork consists of merely its internal properties and the aesthetic experience that they create, Toni Morrison’s imperative that “all good art is political!” – and that “art-for-art’s-sake stuff is BS” – seems more reflective of reality.
How, then, should we approach the external politicisation of art? If art is inherently socio-political in nature, surely its use for political ends comes naturally. Therein lies the question surrounding the destruction of art as a form of protest.
Destroying art for political ends is not a new method of protest. On 10th March 1914, the painting known as the ‘Rokeby Venus’ at the National Gallery was slashed by Mary Richardson. Venus is often considered the ‘most beautiful’ woman in mythology, and Richardson wanted to “destroy the picture of the most beautiful woman in mythological history” to protest “against the Government for destroying Mrs Pankhurst, who is the most beautiful character in modern history. Justice is an element of beauty as much as colour and outline on canvas”. This set off a pattern: in July of the same year, a portrait of Thomas Carlyle by John Everett Millais was attacked by suffragette Anne Hunt with a meat cleaver. Her powerfully symbolic protest against the arrest of Mrs Pankhurst drew attention, but the largely negative reaction polarised the public. Dubbed the “fury with a chopper”, a “hatchet fiend”, and a “wild woman”, it seemed to cast all feminists at the time as ‘unstable’ and thus unworthy of the vote.
Over a century later, we seem to valorise the Suffragettes’ destruction of art. To celebrate the centenary of the Representation of the People Act 1918 in 2018, the National Portrait Gallery – the very museum targeted by suffragettes – organised an exhibition titled ‘Votes for Women!’. Celebrating both peaceful Suffragists and more radical Suffragettes, the gallery exhibited portraits of early feminists alongside the art that Suffragettes vandalised. The destruction itself has become history, and the gallery that was targeted valorised it.
It seems that modern activists have learned from the Suffragettes. “What is worth more, art or life?” Phoebe Plummer, a Just Stop Oil (JSO) activist who threw paint over the fourth version of Vincent van Gogh’s Sunflowers, demanded of a Guardian reporter. “Is it worth more than food? More than justice? Are you more concerned about the protection of a painting or the protection of our planet and people?” Perhaps the most famous protest of a series targeting galleries such as The Courtauld, Royal Academy, and National Gallery, the British environmentalist activism group had targeted artworks to draw attention to the Government’s expansion of oil rig licences. As with the Suffragettes, Just Stop Oil targeted art, and gained attention, although not all of it positive. Some onlookers supported the cause if not the means, whilst others worried that this would alienate supporters. One individual told reporters that “they may be trying to get people to think about the issues but all they end up doing is getting people really annoyed and angry”. In response, a spokesperson for JSO told The Guardian that “this is not The X Factor”. “We are not trying to make friends here, we are trying to make change, and unfortunately this is the way that change happens”.
Considering the Government’s policy of ceasing to issue any new licences for oil and gas production, JSO's public position is that it has won its battle, making them “one of the most successful civil resistance campaigns in recent history”, according to them. However, the Government has denied any influence from the activists, reaffirming that oil and gas have a future in the UK’s energy supply to retain energy independence. Nonetheless, you cannot help but ask if this decision was influenced by the attention created by their destruction of art.
These tactics are employed by other protest groups. On 8th March 2024, a Palestine Action activist slashed and sprayed a portrait of Lord Balfour at Trinity College, Cambridge, to protest his signing of the Balfour Declaration. This promised British support for establishing “in Palestine of a national home for the Jewish people”, and is seen by some historians as the genesis of the current conflict in Israel/Palestine. In response, Trinity College issued a statement that “continues to condemn this act of vandalism in the strongest terms”, and promised to continue working with the police “so that the perpetrators can be brought to justice”.
Considering the Government’s later proscription of Palestine Action, parallels can be drawn between them and the Suffragettes, both in terms of protest and the reaction that they receive. Whilst both organisations have utilised disruptive protest, the passage of time has allowed historians and the public to reappraise their legacy. The destruction of art has always been a means to draw attention to politics, and in time society comes to valorise it. Maybe in the years to come, Just Stop Oil and Palestine Action will have exhibitions about their destruction of art too.
