Courtauld Gallery reopening: Somerset House museum ‘looking better than ever’

“When the Courtauld Gallery

“When the Courtauld Gallery closed in 2018 for renovation, I
feared it might lose the atmosphere that made it one of the most
unique London museums,” said Ben Luke in the London Evening
Standard^[1]. “But it’s looking
better than ever, with a perfectly judged renovation.”

This remarkable collection, established by the textile magnate
Samuel Courtauld and his wife Elizabeth in 1932 and displayed in
Somerset House, groans with masterpieces – paintings by the likes
of Bruegel, Botticelli and Rubens, as well as one of the most
spectacular troves of impressionist and postimpressionist art in
the world.

Yet for all its charms, the Courtauld did not always show its
art “in the best way”: the pictures were hung clumsily, the gallery
layout was awkward and it was a “nightmare” for people with
disabilities.

Now, thanks to a £57m refurbishment, that has all changed. The
renovations have opened up what were once cluttered spaces into a
coherent whole, while the lighting and decor have been made
dramatically more sympathetic to the paintings. And what paintings
they are: from magnificent medieval and early Islamic works to van
Gogh’s Self Portrait with Bandaged Ear (1889), and
“superb” pieces by modern masters including Cy Twombly and Philip
Guston, it offers “one jaw-dropping moment after another”.

Reacquainting oneself with the treasures of the Courtauld is
almost “too much”, said Adrian Searle in The Guardian^[2]. “Surprises at every
turn keep you alert and keep you looking”, whether at a “slightly
mad” 1550 portrait of an English Naval officer or at Cezanne’s
The Card Players (1892-1896); at the “hall of mirrors and
reflections” in Manet’s epochal A Bar at the
Folies-Bergère (1882) or at Cranach’s Adam and Eve
(1526). You’re constantly reminded of the collection’s impressive
“historical sweep and variety”.

The refurb itself has been carried out with the utmost subtlety,
said Rowan Moore in The Observer^[3]. Indeed, it’s so subtle
that at times it’s hard to see quite what all those millions
actually bought. There are, though, occasional slips: the
staircases have been fitted with “crude white rectangular light
fittings” of the sort you might find in “a cheap hotel”, while the
gallery’s glorious medieval works of art are “consigned to a
cramped and low-ceilinged room”.

Much of the old Courtauld’s idiosyncratic charm has been
sacrificed, making it feel much more like an ordinary museum, said
Waldemar Januszczak in The Sunday
Times^[4]. But the new, broadly
chronological hang is easier to follow: some masterpieces that were
previously hidden away are given “pride of place”, such as
Botticelli’s “great altarpiece” The Trinity with Saints Mary
Magdalen and John the Baptist.

Elsewhere, two dozen Rubens paintings that were once scattered
piecemeal throughout the galleries are given a well-deserved room
to themselves. Best of all is the new impressionist and
postimpressionist gallery, where we get “a wall full of superb
Cézannes”; a selection of some fine Gauguins, including the
“haunting” Nevermore (1897); “exceptional” Seurats; and
“heartbreaking” van Goghs.

It may not be perfect, but the Courtauld’s makeover is
“unquestionably a success”. This well-kept secret is now likely to
become a major tourist attraction. “So, yes, a lot has been gained.
But a little has also been lost.”

Courtauld
Gallery^[5], Somerset House, London
WC2 (020-3947 7777, courtauld.ac.uk). Now open to the
public