The Wallace Collection ­ a familiar name, now with musical as well as artistic associations; but how did it originate, and who was Wallace?

The Collection, principally of paintings, ceramics, sculpture, furniture, and European and oriental arms and armour, was amassed by four generations of the Hertford family, in particular by the fourth Marquess who lived from 1800 to 1870. He had been elected M.P. for Co. Antrim at the age of 19, but had retired at 26 and thereafter lived a reclusive but luxurious life in Paris (despite possessing several London residences and two large country mansions I n England), devoting himself to collecting works of art. His tastes were wide; he bought English, Dutch, Spanish and Italian works, but his greatest delight lay in the French arts of the 18th Century (which was not a fashionable area of interest at the time). His wealth was limitless, his energy tireless, his enthusiasm unquenchable, so his collection assumed fabulous quality and extent between 1840 and 1870.

At the age of 18 he had fathered an illegitimate son by a Mrs Jackson, née Wallace. From the age of 6, "Richard Wallace" was taken into the Hertford household, endearing himself to his father and his father's mother (this Lord Hertford never married). He grew up to be a highly intelligent and generous personality, as sociable as his father was reclusive. He became his father's amanuensis, helping with all the affairs of business, household management and artistic acquisition. At his father's death in 1870 he inherited all the unentailed Hertford property and wealth, including the collection and the building we see it in.

He seems to have been an admirable character and very personable. He was welcome at both the contrasting Courts of Louis-Philippe and Napoleon 111. He knew everyone in French society, and in the military and the theatrical worlds ­ and at the same time was familiar with the deprived areas of Paris, and concerned to be of help. Come the Franco-Prussian war of 1870 and ensuing siege of Paris, Wallace remained in the city, setting up three ambulance corps, founding a hospital, organising food and water supplies where most needed (and spending two and a half million francs of his own money in the course of it). He also volunteered to negotiate with the murderous Communards after the war. His philanthropic work was recognised by both French and English governments ­ hence 'Sir Richard Wallace, Bart.' Later, he wrote, and published anonymously, a most interesting account of life in the city between 1830 and 1870 entitled "An Englishman in Paris".

In 1871 he and his wife decided to bring most of the fabulous collection to London and set it up in Hertford House, where we now see it. The building had to be extensively altered; meanwhile part of the treasure was exhibited at the Bethnal Green Museum (where five million people flocked to see it), and part was put in store in Chelsea ­ where it was entirely destroyed by fire. "The Wallace Collection" as now seen is in fact only about a quarter of what the fourth Marquess had amassed and Wallace inherited (though Wallace continued to add to it). Wallace died in 1890, his widow followed seven years later, leaving much of the collection to the nation. Entrance was always to be free, but no work was to be allowed to be moved out or lent for exhibition elsewhere.

What to enjoy in the collection

Dutch and Flemish painters are represented by Rembrandt and Van Dyck portraits, Frans Hals' famous 'Laughing Cavalier', a magnificent, expansive Rubens landscape and two great religious works. By contrast we also see small 'typically Dutch' landscapes by Hobbema, Ruysdael and Cuyp of the kind that have always appealed to the English, as well as many informal interior scenes and still lifes.

Italian painting does not feature so strongly, but some Renaissance portraits and religious works occur; there is a Titian to be seen (of 'Perseus and Andromeda'), a large Salvator Rosa landscape, and Venetian scenes by Canaletto and Guardi. Portraits by Velasquez (notably of the infant Don Balthazar Carlos mounted on a dangerously large and energetic horse), and warm-hearted religious works by Murillo represent the Spanish school.

But it is French painting that predominates, with several haunting, enigmatic 'f�tes galantes' by Watteau and others, many arresting mythological works by Boucher, sensitive studies by Fragonard and portraitists Nattier and Vigée le Brun, and dubious 'paintings of sensibility' by the controversial Greuze. There are notable 17th century works too. Of their own time Hertford and Wallace collected several large historical paintings (including one of 'The Princess in the Tower'), heroic pictures of Arab scenes, landscapes by artists we see now as successors to Constable and precursors of Impressionism, and some military paintings large and small, heroic and anecdotal by the very successful Meissonier, who was a friend of Wallace.

I have mentioned only paintings; but in every room we are waylaid by other things ­ most beautiful pieces of furniture, French porcelain, a fabulous collection of silver, of gilt and jewelled snuff-boxes, of exquisite small bronzesÉ at the drawing back of a cover, a curious collection of little wax miniatures comes to lightÉ on the hour, silvery chimes from elaborate clocks stir the quietness, for it is a peaceful, un-crowded, unhurried place É

What is in it for a hard-boiled musician, when musical references seem almost entirely absent from this treasure house? What is there, is what surrounded music in times past, when music was played at court, or in some aristocratic palace. The spirit of the time that breathed inspiration into the minds of Watteau or Boucher, or the cabinet-makers, the porcelain workers, the marble and bronze sculptors, was that known to Lully and Rameau. It is the courtly 18th century French world that animates the most distinctive rooms of this place, which was after all itself a private house, lavishly decorated and maintained by Francophile owners.

So when one looks at the painted figures, the furnishings and decorations, one takes in a whole period's mode of thinking and behaving, and ways in which it wished to live and to be seen. Can one discern perhaps principles of ornamentation in costume and furniture (the arabesques on a Boulle cabinet? The gilt bronze mounts on an inlaid desk?) that shadow musical practice? How would people have moved ­ and danced ­ in those clothes, in these rooms? With what precise character of refinement were they after enhancing their lives? Technical accomplishment is one thing ­ and how we musicians have to cultivate and concentrate on that ­ but and awareness of the whole cultural context of the pieces we play gives an added dimension to our performances. It makes us think, it makes us experiment with interpretation, and it affords a deepening pleasure and interest in what we do.

So if this appeals, take time off, and visit a treasure house where the seductively beautiful objects can effect and education without us noticing anything, except the pleasure of being taken out of ourselves.

The method will be to move purposefully round the collection, concentrating perhaps on only one or two works in a room, so that people come to see what is there, and to know where, later, to find again what particularly attracts them. I am aware of the dangers of saying too much, and of the blight of "gallery-fatigue".

It is a little unfortunate on this occasion that, for the first time, the Wallace has hived off some of its most famous 18th century French paintings to the largest gallery, to which it charges admission for its 'Boucher Exhibition' until April; but the rest of the rooms are hardly impoverished!

Brian Davis

this article is copyright protected. Morgensterns is licensed to reproduce it. No further copying is permitted without Morgensterns or the author's permission