Art in Britain 1660–1815 | Yale University Press Pelican History of Art Series | British Art History Book for Collectors & Students | Perfect for Art History Studies & Home Library Collections

The trend has been a good while developing, but art history as a ‘catalogue of greats’ with separate chapters leaping effortlessly from the life and work of one acknowledged master to another in strict chronological order is now, so far as I can see as an amateur, dead and buried; and not before time too. The idea that these dissociated creative brains existed in sterile urban glass bubbles while the hoi polloi muddled along in parallel with their dreary worldly concerns was always bonkers, and nearly all new art history books for the general reader take a much broader, inclusive and engaging approach that actively encompasses politics and economics, and just as interesting, poisonous interpersonal rivalries over patronage, money, power and influence, frank skulduggery, and in this period, the long 18th century, much greater awareness of international developments, especially the massive cultural exchanges (and mass import of Great Masters) stimulated by the Grand Tour. Solkin also fully integrates the burgeoning print industries and the varied ways financially savvy artists used the print as advertising and wherever they could to generate very substantial incomes.The Oxford History of Art, started over twenty years ago, was the first affordable series that grabbed this new approach by the neck, and gave it a good old shake, sometimes resulting in mild reader concussion, not dissimilar to ‘life ‘n’ work’. This was sometimes caused by the inclusion of small numbers of chapters, sometimes on seemingly arcane and not so central topics, and sometimes abandonment of chronology, which stresses the fundamental story mechanism of most ordinary folk. But the series also coincided with the development of new techniques of colour printing, and the strength of the Oxford series has been its wonderful illustrations.Here David Solkin has the full-on luxury of the world’s greatest art press, Yale University Press, which has taken over the stalwart Pelican History of Art. In its later, integrated, volumes it issued the very best that the 1970s and 80s could manage. Understandably but frustratingly for the general art history lover, the completely new Yale volumes emerge at a leisurely rate, because writing perhaps a third of a million words or more takes a little time. But when they have fully gestated they are stunning, with every aspect of presentation minutely considered – especially the not far off square format, which allows generous and unbelievably high quality colour reproductions on pretty well every page.Solkin tells his multiple interlinked stories with a grand architectural feel, in beautiful comprehensible prose, and largely chronologically (a welcome reversion mirrored in many new arrangements of galleries, for example the Courtauld itself where Solkin is a professor, and Tate Britain). The text wears its deep learning surprisingly lightly, and occasionally very amusingly; after all the Georgians had a great sense of fun. Because he treats genres separately, the ‘greats’, Hogarth, Reynolds and Gainsborough etc. weave their way into several sections and chapters, and only the finest of scholars with total command of their field can do this with apparently no effort. Of course it would take a 20 volume work to fully cover even British art of this period, so Solkin wisely and studiously avoids lists of works, and describes and comments in detail on key works; I get the impression that he mischievously avoids excessively lengthy descriptions of the canonical works, which have already been pored over in detail. But less cynically, the reader has to look very carefully at words and pictures of unfamiliar pieces, a critical mechanism for dissociating us from reflex likes and dislikes. His discussions of topographical works and the nuances of the associated social changes in town and country occurring at this time, and the relationships between painting and print are wholly engaging.If you’re interested in this period, you should already have this volume; there will be very few non-committal people who will remain so after this silkily persuasive performance. Now if Yale could commission an update to Sir John Summerson’s Pelican book of British architecture covering approximately the same period (though his goes back to 1580), then we would have deeply authoritative accounts of two of the three great artistic contributions to 18th century culture in this country (the novel is rather well covered). But a final warning: on no account should this book ever be remotely linked, mentally or physically, with a coffee table. It’s far too good for that.