Vol. 161 / No. 1393
Vol. 161 / No. 1393
Readers who have recently visited our website (www.burlington.org.uk)
will have noticed that it has undergone a complete redesign. As well as looking
refreshed, it is now easier to navigate on all platforms, since increasingly
users are accessing its content on tablets and smartphones. Such variety was
hardly conceived of when the website last underwent a major redesign, in 2014.
Another reason for the change was the launch last year of Burlington
Contemporary, our online journal for contemporary art
(www.contemporary.burlington.org.uk). With the redesign of the main website we
now have a stylistically coherent online presence.
Almost nothing dates faster than a website. The magazine has
been redesigned only twice in the past twenty years, but a website that is not transformed
at least every four to five years soon seems as antediluvian as a cuneiform
tablet. This speed of change means that it is surprisingly hard to reconstruct
the digital past of an organisation, even one as conscious of its history as The Burlington Magazine.1 We launched
our first website in the spring of 2000, which sounds quite late, but it was
less than seven years after web browsers became widely available and less than
two years after the introduction of web-development toolkits, which made
website development a commercial reality for small organisations. In its
initial form, our website did little more than provide information about the current
issue of the magazine and where to buy it. In the following decade we were
encouraged to be more ambitious by a major project: the creation of the
magazine’s digital index. Instigated in 2005 with a substantial grant from the
Andrew W. Mellon Foundation and completed in 2017 with a grant from the
Monument Trust, this comprehensive searchable database of the magazine’s
contents since its foundation in 1903 originally existed as a separate website.
In 2014 this was integrated with the magazine’s main website, which was given
other new functions, from offering access to free content from our archive to
online purchasing of subscriptions, magazines and pdfs of articles.
The latest incarnation of the website also has more to offer
in terms of function. There is a new section, Academic Noticeboard, which
allows users to post announcements about calls for papers and events such as conferences
and lectures. Perhaps most welcome of all, especially to readers who regretted
the loss of the magazine’s calendar of exhibitions, there is an enlarged
‘What’s On’ section, which incorporates a searchable calendar of exhibitions
around the world. As with the Academic Noticeboard, users can submit
information to the calendar, by means of an online form.
The magazine’s calendar dated back only to 1980, when it
consisted of a single page of listings. Its creation and development have
reflected the growth of exhibitions as an inescapable feature of academic art
history. When the magazine was founded, loan exhibitions were not frequent and
partly as a result were reviewed in considerable depth. In Britain, the exhibitions
of most interest to the nascent discipline of art history were staged by the
Burlington Fine Arts Club in its premises in Savile Row, London. Drawn largely
from British private collections, they included, for example, an exhibition of
ancient Greek art, reviewed over nineteen pages by Cecil Smith in 1903.2 Even
greater space was devoted to the first large-scale loan exhibitions in London
since the nineteenth century, those on the art of individual countries or
national schools staged at the Royal Academy of Arts, London, in the 1920s and
1930s. In January 1929, for example, Robert Witt wrote a six-page preview of
the exhibition of Dutch art that was about to open, and in its February issue
the magazine published a review by Roger Fry which, with its illustrations,
extended over thirteen pages. One reason for this depth of coverage was that
the age of the academic exhibition catalogue had yet to dawn and even such large
events were accompanied only by a list of exhibits: the Magazine’s reviews were
therefore doubly important, as a record of the exhibition as well as a critical
estimation of it.
By the end of the 1930s the era of the exhibition with
international loans was well under way: in his editorial in the January 1946
issue Ellis Waterhouse reported on the fate of works of art lent from British
collections that had been trapped in Italian museums by the outbreak of war.3
Given that in Britain the age of the ‘blockbuster’ as a regular feature of
museum life is usually dated from 1972, the year of Treasures of Tutankhamun at the British Museum, London, it is
striking how quickly the magazine became jaded. In an Editorial in May 1957
Benedict Nicolson wrote that:
The sociologist of the future
will gain some insight into the character of this age by undertaking an
exhaustive study of our exhibition mania. He will detect, in our ant-like
persistence in moving works of art backwards and forwards across Europe, symptoms
of distress and unease, attempts to compensate for lack of creative activity,
the inflation of culture keeping pace with the inflation of currency, unhappy
restlessness masquerading as the need to bring art to those who cannot afford
to travel widely.4
The tide was, however, unstoppable, as Nicolson recognised
when he returned to the subject twenty years later in a plea for if not fewer exhibitions
then at least smaller and more academically focused ones: ‘As with cocktail
parties, so with exhibitions: the smaller the better’.5
Our coverage of exhibitions was then restricted to a section
dominated by previews and round-ups entitled ‘Current and forthcoming
exhibitions’, but perhaps as a result of Nicolson’s retirement from the
editorship in 1978 the magazine ceased to fight against fashion. The
introduction of the calendar was followed by a reorganisation of the reviews
pages, which rapidly expanded to occupy about half of the magazine. They are now
accompanied by Burlington Contemporary’s two weekly reviews. Although the 225
reviews we publish annually may sound impressive, a comparison with the
hundreds of exhibitions listed at any one time in the calendar on our website
reveals that it requires the resources of the internet even to survey what is
on offer, whether or not exhibitions are lamented as ‘symptoms of distress and
unease’ or celebrated as extraordinary riches.
1 The best way to see what a website looked like in the past
is to visit the 349 billion web pages preserved in the remarkable ‘wayback machine’,
at www.archive.org/web, accessed 20th March 2019.
2 C. Smith: ‘The exhibition of Greek art at the Burlington
Fine Arts Club’, THE BURLINGTON MAGAZINE 2 (1903), pp.236–55.
3 Editorial: ‘Loan exhibitions in Italy in 1938’, THE
BURLINGTON MAGAZINE 88 (1946), p.3.
4 Editorial: ‘A plea for fewer exhibitions’, THE BURLINGTON MAGAZINE
99 (1957), p.145. 5 Editorial: ‘Too many exhibitions – and usually of the wrong
kind’, THE BURLINGTON MAGAZINE 119 (1977), pp.171–72.