Life and times

Artist and printmaker Norman Ackroyd

AT THIS TIME OF YEAR, I set aside a whole weekend to rehang the pictures in my living room. It is a tranquil, meditative and enjoyable exercise. Though I cannot possibly hang everything I own, this is a chance to reacquaint myself with what has been in my picture store for the past 12 months.

I have two large walls that have been fitted with horizontal hanging rails, which makes the process technically simple. Everything will come off the walls and some pictures will be relegated to the store, while old favourites will return to the walls, but in different arrangements. Many of the pictures are small etchings, engravings or woodcuts that hang in groups – it is amazing how two pictures hanging together can either enhance or destroy each other. Hanging them is like solving a massive jigsaw puzzle. Yet it is wonderfully refreshing to see favourites in different groupings, and it changes the ambience of the space as spring arrives.

MY 80TH BIRTHDAY last year generated considerable interest in my work, and now, in early 2019, I find myself with four exhibitions running concurrently and a rush of demonstrations, lectures and studio visits to attend, mainly at Yorkshire Sculpture Park and Pallant House Gallery in Chichester.

I have worked as an artist, specialising in etchings, for more than five decades. In recent years I have observed an enormous thirst for knowledge of the etching process in the UK – indeed, I receive an increasing amount of emails asking me technical questions. Yet at the same time, art schools and print workshops are abandoning etching with acid on metal in favour of acid-free platemaking, on the spurious grounds of health and safety.

For centuries, artists have etched with acid on metal and all have lived to tell the tale, often to a great age. Dürer, Rembrandt, Goya and Picasso are just a few that come to mind. An etching workshop without acid, to me, is like a pub with no beer.

I can smell the influence of the bean-counters and consultants, usually preoccupied with the bottom line. They will have worked out that if you clear the room of all the etching paraphernalia you could probably instal 30 computers, 30 students and just one member of staff, with no potential safety issues whatsoever. As in our schools, art always seems to end up being the least important and most dispensable part of the curriculum. A great shame.

AS WE MOVE FURTHER into 2019 – and closer to Brexit – I cannot help thinking how the Royal Academy of Arts, which celebrated its 250th birthday last year, will move into its second 250 years.

Founded in 1768 at the height of the Enlightenment movement, the RA has had its highs and lows. In the middle of the 20th century it became quite moribund and static, but from 1976 until 1984, when Sir Hugh Casson was president, an increasing litany of the country’s most eminent artists were elected to its ranks. Now, in 2019, the breadth, scope and reputation of the body of academicians is again extraordinary.

As Europe and the Royal Academy move forward into a new era, I long for the kind of long-term thinking and optimism that informed the movers and shakers of the Enlightenment. Norman Ackroyd: The Furthest Lands is open at Yorkshire Sculpture Park, and Wild Places is open at Pallant House Gallery, Chichester, until 24 February

An etching workshop without acid, for me, is like a pub with no beer