Some (impertinent) art advice for King Charles III on how to manage the Royal Collection

In last month’s column, I gave unsolicited advice to the new culture minister. This month I’m doubling down on the sass with advice for the new king.

Your Majesty, having grown up surrounded by its treasures, you will know the extraordinary depth of the royal collection. I would even wonder if you have seen everything with more than 281,000 objects. You probably know best the 5,610 paintings, including 7 Rembrandts, 28 Van Dycks, 34 Gainsboroughs and 52 Canalettos. And I doubt you could resist a private perusal of Leonardo’s 500+ drawings.

As a longtime patron of the collection, you also know how well curated it is. Not only is everything in excellent condition, but the scientific consistency of the catalogs is second to none.

But there are some changes that could help the collection evolve and maybe even transform it.

First, loans. Until now, the Royal Collection’s exhibitions have been strictly limited to works within the collection. This has enabled superbly focused shows. But there is a risk that it will become limiting. Only occasionally can exhibitions at the Queen’s Gallery look a little…familiar. If the collection were able to borrow sensibly – and imagine what outstanding loans you could pull off – it could broaden the subject matter of its exhibitions and create a new context for works inside and outside the collection.

Second, copyright. Images of items in the Royal Collection are subject to your personal copyright. give that up By ending restrictions on both the quality of images available online and what the public (and scientists) can do with them, you make the collection instantly more accessible than ever. Someone will tell you that selling images brings significant revenue, but after considering licensing and distribution costs, it’s not a viable long-term commercial prospect.

Finally, what is the modern Royal Collection for? Originally, your predecessors supported artists to glorify themselves. Holbein’s portrayal of Henry VIII is about brute force, the regal equivalent of a boxing poster. Charles I, not a boxer himself, showed the futility of relying on art to create the illusion of power, and since then the purpose of the collection has become decorative. You have the ability to take it beyond mere ornament.

Great art can change lives and places. The Royal Collection has no shortage of great art, but most of it is in London and the South East. Only 4% of paintings are exhibited in Scotland, none in Wales. While this reflects the broader status of our national art collection and the regional differences built up over centuries. But the fact that not a single Canaletto is on public display in Northern Ireland, while the collection comprises 52, gives an indication of what needs to be done.

Imagine; The Royal Collection lends a small number of works to regional galleries across the UK, creating in each a King’s Gallery of treasures that resonate with the local community. These treasures and your brand would transform local engagement with the arts and help mobilize more loans and funding for partner galleries. You could help revitalize institutions that are so important to the education and well-being of local communities and that are under threat like never before. And you could show Henry VIII and Charles I that there is more to a royal collection than boastful power. But that’s enough impertinence from me.