Jeg vil fortælle jer om en lidelse, jeg har. Og jeg har en fornemmelse af, at en del af jer har den samme lidelse. Når jeg går rundt på et kunstgalleri, lokale efter lokale fyldt med malerier, går det op for mig efter et stykke tid, at jeg slet ikke tænker på malerierne. Jeg er ikke i kontakt med dem. I stedet for tænker jeg på den kop kaffe, som jeg desperat har brug for for at vågne op.
I'm going to tell you about an affliction I suffer from. And I have a funny feeling that quite a few of you suffer from it as well. When I'm walking around an art gallery, rooms and rooms full of paintings, after about 15 or 20 minutes, I realize I'm not thinking about the paintings. I'm not connecting to them. Instead, I'm thinking about that cup of coffee I desperately need to wake me up.
Jeg lider af galleritræthed. Hvor mange af jer lider af -- ja. Ha ha, ha ha! Nogen gange holder man længere end tyve minutter, eller kortere tid, men jeg tror, at vi alle lider af det. Og har i også den medfølgende skyldfølelse? Jeg kigger på billederne på væggen og tænker på, at nogen har besluttet at hænge dem der, nogen synes de er gode nok til at hænge på den væg, men jeg kan ikke altid se det.
I'm suffering from gallery fatigue. How many of you out there suffer from -- yes. Ha ha, ha ha! Now, sometimes you might last longer than 20 minutes, or even shorter, but I think we all suffer from it. And do you have the accompanying guilt? For me, I look at the paintings on the wall and I think, somebody has decided to put them there, thinks they're good enough to be on that wall, but I don't always see it.
Faktisk kan jeg for det meste ikke se det. Og jeg går hjem og føler mig ulykkelig. Jeg føler mig skyldig og er utilfreds med mig selv, og i stedet for at tænke, at der er noget galt med maleriet, tænker jeg, at der er noget galt med mig.
In fact, most of the time I don't see it. And I leave feeling actually unhappy. I feel guilty and unhappy with myself, rather than thinking there's something wrong with the painting, I think there's something wrong with me.
Og det er ikke en særlig god oplevelse at forlade et galleri med.
And that's not a good experience, to leave a gallery like that.
(Latter) Jeg synes, vi skulle give os selv en pause. Hvis i tænker på, når man går på restaurant, og man kigger på menuen, forventes det så, at du bestiller al maden på menuen? Nej! Du vælger. Hvis du går ind i et stormagasin for at købe en trøje, vil du så prøve alle trøjerne på og have lyst til at købe alle trøjerne? Selvfølgelig ikke, du kan være selektiv. Det er forventeligt. Hvorfor er det så ikke forventeligt at være selektiv, når vi går ind på et galleri?
(Laughter) The thing is, I think we should give ourselves a break. If you think about going into a restaurant, when you look at the menu, are you expected to order every single thing on the menu? No! You select. If you go into a department store to buy a shirt, are you going to try on every single shirt and want every single shirt? Of course not, you can be selective. It's expected. How come, then, it's not so expected to be selective when we go to an art gallery?
Hvorfor skal vi have en forbindelse til hvert enkelt maleri? Jeg prøver at have en anderledes tilgang til det. Jeg gør to ting: Når jeg går ind på et galleri, går jeg før det første meget hurtigt igennem, og jeg kigger på det hele, og jeg udvælger dem, som får mig til at sætte farten ned af en eller anden grund. Jeg ved ikke engang, hvorfor de får mig til at sænke farten, men noget tiltrækker mig som en magnet, og så ignorerer jeg alle de andre, og jeg går til det maleri. Det er den første ting, jeg gør. Jeg udvælger et maleri. Det kan være et ud af halvtreds. Den anden ting jeg gør er, at jeg står foran det maleri
Why are we supposed to have a connection with every single painting? Well I'm trying to take a different approach. And there's two things I do: When I go into a gallery, first of all, I go quite fast, and I look at everything, and I pinpoint the ones that make me slow down for some reason or other. I don't even know why they make me slow down, but something pulls me like a magnet and then I ignore all the others, and I just go to that painting. So it's the first thing I do is, I do my own curation. I choose a painting. It might just be one painting in 50. And then the second thing I do is I stand in front of that painting, and I tell myself a story about it.
og fortæller mig selv en historie om det. Hvorfor en historie? Jeg tror, at vi er indstillet til, gennem vores DNA, at fortælle historier. Vi fortæller hele tiden historier og jeg tror, vi gør det, fordi verden er et skørt og kaotisk sted, og med historier prøver vi at få verden til at give mening, at bringe noget orden ind i den. Hvorfor ikke implementere det i den måde vi kigger på malerier på? Nu har jeg denne form for restaurant menu,
Why a story? Well, I think that we are wired, our DNA tells us to tell stories. We tell stories all the time about everything, and I think we do it because the world is kind of a crazy, chaotic place, and sometimes stories, we're trying to make sense of the world a little bit, trying to bring some order to it. Why not apply that to our looking at paintings? So I now have this sort of restaurant menu visiting of art galleries.
når jeg besøger kunstgallerier. Jeg vil vise jer tre malerier, som fik mig til at stoppe op, og jeg vil fortælle jer historier om dem. Det første behøves meget lidt introduktion -- "Pige med perleørering" af Johannes Vermeer, en 1700-tals hollandsk maler. Dette er det mest glorværdige billede. Jeg så det første gang, da jeg var nitten, og jeg gik med det samme ud og købte en plakat med det, og jeg har stadig den plakat. Tredive år senere hænger den i mit hus. Den har ledsaget mig overalt,
There are three paintings I'm going to show you now that are paintings that made me stop in my tracks and want to tell stories about them. The first one needs little introduction -- "Girl with a Pearl Earring" by Johannes Vermeer, 17th-century Dutch painter. This is the most glorious painting. I first saw it when I was 19, and I immediately went out and got a poster of it, and in fact I still have that poster. 30 years later it's hanging in my house. It's accompanied me everywhere I've gone, I never tire of looking at her.
jeg bliver aldrig træt af at kigge på hende. Det der først og fremmest fik mig til at stoppe op ved dette billede var de smukke farver, som han bruger, og lyset, der falder på hendes ansigt. Men det, der har fået mig til at komme tilbage år efter år er en helt anden ting, og det er udtrykket i hendes ansigt, det modstridende udtryk i hendes ansigt. Jeg kan ikke se, om hun er glad eller trist, og jeg ændrer hele tiden mening.
What made me stop in my tracks about her to begin with was just the gorgeous colors he uses and the light falling on her face. But I think what's kept me still coming back year after year is another thing, and that is the look on her face, the conflicted look on her face. I can't tell if she's happy or sad, and I change my mind all the time.
Det får mig til at komme tilbage til det. En dag seksten år efter jeg købte denne plakat, lå jeg i sengen og kiggede på hende, og pludselig tænkte jeg på, hvad maleren gjorde ved hende for at få hende til at se sådan ud. Det var første gang, jeg havde tænkt på, at udtrykket på hendes ansigt faktisk reflekterer hvad hun føler for ham. Jeg havde altid tænkt på det som et portræt af en pige. Nu begyndte jeg at tænke på det som et portræt af et forhold.
So that keeps me coming back. One day, 16 years after I had this poster on my wall, I lay in bed and looked at her, and I suddenly thought, I wonder what the painter did to her to make her look like that. And it was the first time I'd ever thought that the expression on her face is actually reflecting how she feels about him. Always before I'd thought of it as a portrait of a girl. Now I began to think of it as a portrait of a relationship.
Og jeg tænkte på, hvad det var for et forhold? Så jeg begyndte at undersøge det. Jeg researchede det og opdagede, at man ikke aner, hvem hun er. Faktisk ved vi ikke, hvem nogen af modellerne er i Vermeers malerier, og vi ved meget lidt om Vermeer selv. Hvilket fik mig til at sige: "Jubii!"
And I thought, well, what is that relationship? So I went to find out. I did some research and discovered, we have no idea who she is. In fact, we don't know who any of the models in any of Vermeer's paintings are, and we know very little about Vermeer himself. Which made me go, "Yippee!"
Jeg kan skrive lige præcis den historie, jeg har lyst til. Sådan kom jeg på denne historie. For det første, måtte jeg få hende ind i det hus. Hvordan kender Vermeer hende? Det har været foreslået, at hun kunne være hans tolvårige datter. Datteren var på det tidspunkt tolv år gammel, da han malede det. Jeg tænkte, nej, det er et meget intimt blik, men det er ikke et blik, en datter giver sin far. For det første, i hollandske malerier på den tid, betød en kvindes åbne mund, at hun var seksuelt til rådighed. Det ville have været upassende for Vermeer
I can do whatever I want, I can come up with whatever story I want to. So here's how I came up with the story. First of all, I thought, I've got to get her into the house. How does Vermeer know her? Well, there've been suggestions that she is his 12-year-old daughter. The daughter at the time was 12 when he painted the painting. And I thought, no, it's a very intimate look, but it's not a look a daughter gives her father. For one thing, in Dutch painting of the time, if a woman's mouth was open, it was indicating sexual availability. It would have been inappropriate for Vermeer
at male sin datter sådan. Så det er ikke hans datter, men det er en, der er tæt på ham, fysisk tæt på ham. Hvem ville ellers være i huset? En tjenestepige, en dejlig tjenestepige. Så, hun er i huset. Hvordan får vi hende ind i atelieret? Vi ved ikke særlig meget om Vermeer, men af de få ting vi ved, ved vi at han giftede sig med en katolsk kvinde, de boede med hendes mor i et hus, hvor han havde sig eget værelse, hans atelier. Han havde også elleve børn. Det ville have været en kaotisk og larmende husholdning. Og hvis i har set Vermeers malerier før,
to paint his daughter like that. So it's not his daughter, but it's somebody close to him, physically close to him. Well, who else would be in the house? A servant, a lovely servant. So, she's in the house. How do we get her into the studio? We don't know very much about Vermeer, but the little bits that we do know, one thing we know is that he married a Catholic woman, they lived with her mother in a house where he had his own room where he -- his studio. He also had 11 children. It would have been a chaotic, noisy household. And if you've seen Vermeer's paintings before, you know that they're incredibly calm and quiet.
ved i, at de er utrolig rolige og stille. Hvordan maler en maler så rolige og stille malerier med elleve børn i huset? Han deler sit liv op i sektioner. Han har sit atelier, og siger, "Ingen må komme herind. Ikke konen, ikke børnene. Okay, tjenestepigen kan komme og gøre rent." Hun er i atelieret. Han har hende i atelieret, de er sammen.
How does a painter paint such calm, quiet paintings with 11 kids around? Well, he compartmentalizes his life. He gets to his studio, and he says, "Nobody comes in here. Not the wife, not the kids. Okay, the maid can come in and clean." She's in the studio. He's got her in the studio, they're together.
Og han beslutter sig for at male hende. Han får hende til at bære meget enkelt tøj. Alle kvinder, eller de fleste kvinder i Vermeers andre malerier bar fløjl, silke, pelse meget overdådige materialer. Dette er meget enkelt; det eneste, der ikke er enkelt, er perleøreringen. Hvis hun er en tjenestepige, ville hun aldrig nogensinde få råd til et sæt perleøreringe. Så dette er ikke hendes perleøreringe. Hvis er de? Vi ved tilfældigvis, at der er en liste over konen Catharinas tøj. Blandt dem er der en gul frakke med hvid pels, en gul og sort kjole, og man kan se disse på mange andre malerier, forskellige kvinder på malerierne, Vermeers malerier. Det er tydeligt, at hendes tøj blev udlånt til flere forskellige kvinder. Det er ikke så skørt at tro,
And he decides to paint her. He has her wear very plain clothes. Now, all of the women, or most of the women in Vermeer's other paintings wore velvet, silk, fur, very sumptuous materials. This is very plain; the only thing that isn't plain is her pearl earring. Now, if she's a servant, there is no way she could afford a pair of pearl earrings. So those are not her pearl earrings. Whose are they? We happen to know, there's a list of Catharina, the wife's clothes. Amongst them a yellow coat with white fur, a yellow and black bodice, and you see these clothes on lots of other paintings, different women in the paintings, Vermeer's paintings. So clearly, her clothes were lent to various different women. It's not such a leap of faith to take
at den perleørering rent faktisk tilhører hans kone. Vi har alle elementerne i vores historie. Hun er i atelieret sammen med ham i meget lang tid. Disse malerier tog lang tid at male. De ville have tilbragt al den tid alene. Hun bærer hans kones perleørering. Hun er smuk. Hun elsker ham tydeligvis. Hun er i konflikt med sig selv. Og ved konen noget? Måske ikke. Og hvis hun ikke gør, --
that that pearl earring actually belongs to his wife. So we've got all the elements for our story. She's in the studio with him for a long time. These paintings took a long time to make. They would have spent the time alone, all that time. She's wearing his wife's pearl earring. She's gorgeous. She obviously loves him. She's conflicted. And does the wife know? Maybe not. And if she doesn't, well --
det er historien.
that's the story.
(Latter) Det næste maleri, jeg vil tale om hedder "Dreng bygger et korthus" af Chardin. Han er en af 1800-tallets franske malere, der er mest kendt for hans stilleben, men han malede ind imellem mennesker. Faktisk malede han fire versioner af dette maleri, forskellige drenge, der byggede korthuse, helt koncentreret. Jeg kan bedst lide denne version, for nogen af drengene er ældre, nogen er yngre, og for mig var denne -
(Laughter) The next painting I'm going to talk about is called "Boy Building a House of Cards" by Chardin. He's an 18th-century French painter best known for his still lifes, but he did occasionally paint people. And in fact, he painted four versions of this painting, different boys building houses of cards, all concentrated. I like this version the best, because some of the boys are older and some are younger, and to me, this one,
ligesom Guldloks grød -- helt rigtig. Han er ikke helt barn, og han er ikke helt voksen. Han er fuldstændig i balance mellem uskyld og erfaring, og det fik mig til at stoppe op foran dette maleri. Og jeg kiggede på hans ansigt. Det er ligesom et Vermeer maleri. Lyset kommer ind fra venstre, hans ansigt er badet i dette glødende lys. Det er i midten af maleriet, og jeg opdagede, da jeg kiggede på det, at jeg stod og tænkte, "Se på mig. Se venligst på mig." Men han så mig ikke. Han kiggede stadig på sine kort, og det er et af de forførende elementer i dette maleri, han er så fokuseret på, hvad han laver, at han ikke kigger på os. Og det er, for mig, et tegn på et mesterværk af et maleri, når der er en mangel på beslutsomhed.
like Goldilocks's porridge, is just right. He's not quite a child, and he's not quite a man. He's absolutely balanced between innocence and experience, and that made me stop in my tracks in front of this painting. And I looked at his face. It's like a Vermeer painting a bit. The light comes in from the left, his face is bathed in this glowing light. It's right in the center of the painting, and you look at it, and I found that when I was looking at it, I was standing there going, "Look at me. Please look at me." And he didn't look at me. He was still looking at his cards, and that's one of the seductive elements of this painting is, he's so focused on what he's doing that he doesn't look at us. And that is, to me, the sign of a masterpiece, of a painting when there's a lack of resolution.
Han vil aldrig se på mig. Så jeg tænkte på en historie, hvor jeg overvejede, hvem der var der og så på ham? Ikke maleren, jeg vil ikke tænke på maleren. Jeg tænker på en ældre version af ham selv. Han er en mand, en tjener, en ældre tjener, der kigger på den yngre tjener, og han siger, "Se på mig. Jeg vil advare dig om det, du skal til at gennemgå. Se venligst på mig."
He's never going to look at me. So I was thinking of a story where, if I'm in this position, who could be there looking at him? Not the painter, I don't want to think about the painter. I'm thinking of an older version of himself. He's a man, a servant, an older servant looking at this younger servant, saying, "Look at me. I want to warn you about what you're about to go through. Please look at me."
Men han gør det aldrig. Og den mangel på beslutsomhed, ligesom i "Pige med perleørering" -- vi ved ikke, om hun er glad eller trist. Jeg har skrevet en hel roman om hende, og jeg ved stadig ikke, om hun er glad eller trist. Igen og igen, tilbage til maleriet, kigge efter svaret, kigge efter historien, der kan udfylde et hul. Og måske skaber vi en historie, der tilfredsstiller os i øjeblikket,
And he never does. And that lack of resolution, the lack of resolution in "Girl with a Pearl Earring" -- we don't know if she's happy or sad. I've written an entire novel about her, and I still don't know if she's happy or sad. Again and again, back to the painting, looking for the answer, looking for the story to fill in that gap. And we may make a story, and it satisfies us momentarily,
men ikke rigtig, og vi kommer tilbage igen og igen. Det sidste maleri, jeg vil tale om,
but not really, and we come back again and again. The last painting I'm going to talk about
hedder "Anonym" af Anonym. (Latter) Dette er et Tudor portræt opkøbt af Det Nationale Portræt Galleri. De troede, det var en mand, der hedder Sir Thomas Overbury, og så opdagede de, at det ikke var ham,
is called "Anonymous" by anonymous. (Laughter) This is a Tudor portrait bought by the National Portrait Gallery. They thought it was a man named Sir Thomas Overbury, and then they discovered that it wasn't him, and they have no idea who it is.
og de har ingen ide om, hvem det er. I Det Nationale Portræt Galleri, hvis man ikke kender biografien bag et maleri, er det ret ubrugeligt. Man kan ikke hænge det på en væg, for man ved ikke, hvem han er. Så desværre tilbringer denne forældreløse det meste af sin tid på et lager sammen med en del andre forældreløse,
Now, in the National Portrait Gallery, if you don't know the biography of the painting, it's kind of useless to you. They can't hang it on the wall, because they don't know who he is. So unfortunately, this orphan spends most of his time in storage, along with quite a number of other orphans, some of them some beautiful paintings.
nogen af dem er virkelig smukke malerier. Dette maleri fik mig til at stoppe op af tre grunde: En grund er splittelsen mellem hans mund, som smiler og hans øjne, der er vemodige. Han er ikke glad, og hvorfor ikke? En anden ting, som tiltrak mig var hans lysende røde kinder. Han rødmer. Han rødmer for sit portræt! Det her må være en fyr, som rødmer hele tiden. Hvad tænker han på, som får ham til at rødme? Den tredje ting, der fik mig til at stoppe op er hans fuldstændig fantastiske dublet. Silke, grå, de smukke knapper. Det får mig til at tænke på, at den er lun og blød;
This painting made me stop in my tracks for three reasons: One is the disconnection between his mouth that's smiling and his eyes that are wistful. He's not happy, and why isn't he happy? The second thing that really attracted me were his bright red cheeks. He is blushing. He's blushing for his portrait being made! This must be a guy who blushes all the time. What is he thinking about that's making him blush? The third thing that made me stop in my tracks is his absolutely gorgeous doublet. Silk, gray, those beautiful buttons. And you know what it makes me think of,
det er som en dyne spredt ud over en seng. Jeg blev ved med at tænke på senge og rødmende kinder, og selvfølgelig blev jeg ved med at tænke på sex, når jeg kiggede på ham, og jeg overvejede, om det var det, han tænkte på? Og jeg tænkte, at hvis jeg skulle skrive en historie, hvad er så det sidste, jeg ville skrive om? Hvad ville en Tudor herre være optaget af? Og jeg tænkte, Henry d. 8., okay. Han ville være optaget af sin arv og sin arving. Hvem skal arve hans navn og formue? Når man sætter alt det sammen, har man sin historie til at udfylde det hul, som får en til at komme tilbage. Her er historien.
is it's sort of snug and puffy; it's like a duvet spread over a bed. I kept thinking of beds and red cheeks, and of course I kept thinking of sex when I looked at him, and I thought, is that what he's thinking about? And I thought, if I'm going to make a story, what's the last thing I'm going to put in there? Well, what would a Tudor gentleman be preoccupied with? And I thought, well, Henry VIII, okay. He'd be preoccupied with his inheritance, with his heir. Who is going to inherit his name and his fortune? You put all those together, and you've got your story to fill in that gap that makes you keep coming back. Now, here's the story.
Den er kort.
It's short.
"Rosa" Jeg bærer stadig den hvide, brokerede dublet, som Caroline gav mig. Den har en almindelig høj krave, aftagelige ærmer, og indviklede knapper af snoede silketråde, der er sat tæt sammen, så den sidder tæt. Dubletten får mig til at tænke på en dyne på den enorme seng. Måske var det meningen. Jeg bar den først til en udsøgt middag, som hendes forældre holdt til vores ære. Jeg vidste, før jeg rejste mig for at tale, at mine kinder var ildrøde. Jeg har altid rødmet meget let, fra fysisk anstrengelse,
"Rosy" I am still wearing the white brocade doublet Caroline gave me. It has a plain high collar, detachable sleeves and intricate buttons of twisted silk thread, set close together so that the fit is snug. The doublet makes me think of a coverlet on the vast bed. Perhaps that was the intention. I first wore it at an elaborate dinner her parents held in our honor. I knew even before I stood up to speak that my cheeks were inflamed. I have always flushed easily, from physical exertion,
fra vin, fra stærke følelser. Som dreng blev jeg drillet af mine søstre og af skoledrenge, men ikke af George. Kun George kunne kalde mig Rosa. Jeg ville ikke tillade, at andre gjorde. Han fik ordet til at lyde ømt. Da jeg gav beskeden, blev George ikke rød, men blev bleg som min dublet. Han skulle ikke være blevet overrasket. Det har været en gængs antagelse, at jeg en dag skulle giftes med hans kusine. Men det er svært at høre ordene blive sagt højt.
from wine, from high emotion. As a boy, I was teased by my sisters and by schoolboys, but not by George. Only George could call me Rosy. I would not allow anyone else. He managed to make the word tender. When I made the announcement, George did not turn rosy, but went pale as my doublet. He should not have been surprised. It has been a common assumption that I would one day marry his cousin. But it is difficult to hear the words aloud.
Jeg ved det, jeg kunne knap nok sige dem. Efterfølgende fandt jeg George på terrassen, mens han kiggede ud over køkkenhaven. På trods af at han havde drukket hele eftermiddagen, var han stadig bleg. Vi stod sammen og så på at tjenestepigerne skar salat.
I know, I could barely utter them. Afterwards, I found George on the terrace overlooking the kitchen garden. Despite drinking steadily all afternoon, he was still pale. We stood together and watched the maids cut lettuces.
"Hvad synes du om min dublet?", spurgte jeg.
"What do you think of my doublet?" I asked.
Han kastede et blik på mig. "Det ser ud som om, kraven er ved at kvæle dig." "Vi vil stadig se hinanden," insisterede jeg. "Vi kan stadig jage og spille kort og overvære domstolen. Intet behøves at ændre sig." George sagde intet. "Jeg er treogtyve år gammel. Det er på tide, at jeg gifter mig
He glanced at me. "That collar looks to be strangling you." "We will still see each other," I insisted. "We can still hunt and play cards and attend court. Nothing need change." George did not speak. "I am 23 years old. It is time for me to marry
og fremstiller en arving. Det er forventet af mig." George tømte endnu et glas rødvin og vendte sig om mod mig. "Tillykke med dit forestående bryllup, James. Jeg er sikker på, at i bliver tilfredse sammen."
and produce an heir. It is expected of me." George drained another glass of claret and turned to me. "Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials, James. I'm sure you'll be content together."
Han brugte aldrig mit kaldenavn igen.
He never used my nickname again.
Tak.
Thank you.
(Bifald)
(Applause)
Tak.
Thank you.