I am completely incapable of arting and it breaks my heart.Įveryone ought to have a story about why they never became the new Picasso – you know, a ‘the day I learnt I would never be heavy-weight champion of the world’ story. I look at paintings and photographs and I’m stunned by the idea that someone could think to compose an image in that way, light it just perfectly, use that image as a metaphor in such a way as to twist my lungs out of me so that I can’t breathe – but that is not what I do. I would love to be able to art, but it just isn’t one of those things I have any talent for. The other confession I have to make is that I don’t do Art – in fact, not even art. I don’t care if there will always be a Britain – as long as there will always be a BBC, that is all I ask. Schama is a God among men and, a bit like David Attenborough, he could talk about grass growing and I would be in a trance (in fact, I may have listened to Attenborough talking about grass growing, I’m almost certain I must have). He NEVER assumes you will know something only the initiated will know. This is documentary film making at its best. The filming, editing and direction are almost as breathtaking as the artworks discussed. This is a documentary to be seen and not read about. I’ve seen the documentary, but I’m going to tell you about it anyway. A couple of confessions – the most obvious is that I haven’t actually read this book.
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