Art Class, a 30-minute documentary for Radio 4’s Illuminated strand, is an unusual listen. Initially, it seems a bit of a mess: a cut’n’splice selection of well-known people talking about culture, banging against each other like commuters on an overcrowded train. Here is Margaret Thatcher – elbows out, affected drawl, taking up time and space – talking about a porcelain work she owns that depicts the landing at St Carlos Bay during the Falklands war: “The quality of the work is superb,” she says. “Look, above all, at the expression of the faces … unbelievable kindliness and pride and raising the flag of Britain.”
She’s squished up against Stewart Lee, who talks eloquently about how art needs supporting, not just as an idea, but as an available way of living your life, “creating an economic situation where people can afford to live and have interests”. And here’s an old Harry and Paul sketch where two working class men discuss a Schoenberg and Beethoven concert – “The hairs on the back of my hands were standing up; it was just amazing!” – before retreating into themselves. “What you talking about, Danny?” says Enfield. “Oh, I dunno,” says Whitehouse, sadly. “Tits.”
Produced by Falling Tree’s Alan Hall, Art Class is about class and art, and the British inability to unwind the two. Who gets to create art, who gets to appreciate it, and who gets to make a living through it? In the UK, we constantly assess its worth, its so-called “value”. Politicians discuss culture, but seem distant – we’re treated to David Cameron’s insouciant pick of the Smiths’ This Charming Man on Desert Island Discs. Our leaders don’t value art enough to support it because they don’t think it’s for everyone. Opera for the truly cultured; football for the plebs.
And somewhere inside they still believe that talent will rise; that if your work is good enough, you will succeed. “The respondents who are most attached to this idea [of meritocracy] are white men,” says one commentator. Also: “The UK has one of the lowest levels of spending on culture amongst European nations … and was one of a small minority of countries to reduce total cultural spending per person between 2010 and 2022.” Bleak.
The doc itself, which was inspired partly by an essay by The Observer’s own Kenan Malik, is an impressionistic collage that lets you puzzle out its meaning if you wish to. And, even if you don’t, it fills you with ideas and moments that might spark into flame elsewhere. It is, itself, a small piece of art.
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And here’s another: a Radio 4 play (who’d have thought!), Odds On. It concerns Josie and George. We meet them at their best friend Maddie’s funeral. They are sad, but, more importantly, they are strained. Something has clearly happened around Maddie’s sudden death; something Josie and George want to cover up. But Maddie’s drunk and not-to-be-messed-with mum Rita is on the warpath, and Josie and George are cracking under the pressure.
If this sounds tense then, yes, it is. But it’s also very funny. Writer Liv Fowler – who wrote 2023’s Happy Hour, another play about two young people dealing with an unexpected death – is great with dialogue. And there’s a moment, two-thirds of the way in, that made me say “oh wow” aloud; an unexpected revelation – silly and tragic and darkly, daftly funny – that leads to other revelations. “The last time we’re with someone doesn’t define our entire relationship with them,” is the line to take away. Excellent drunk acting from Erin Riley (Josie), Emika Sesay (George) and Sarah Finigan (Rita). An unexpected treat.
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