Oral history interview with Graham Beal, 2016 April 6-7 Contact Information Reference Department Archives of American Art Smithsonian Institution Washington. D.C. 20560 www.aaa.si.edu/askus Transcript Preface The following oral history transcript is the result of a recorded interview with Graham Beal on April 6 and 7, 2016. The interview took place at Graham Beal's home in Detroit, Michigan, and was conducted by James McElhinney for the Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution. Graham Beal and James McElhinney have reviewed the transcript. Their corrections and emendations appear below in brackets with initials. This transcript has been lightly edited for readability by the Archives of American Art. The reader should bear in mind that they are reading a transcript of spoken, rather than written, prose. Interview JAMES MCELHINNEY: This is James McElhinney speaking, with Graham Beal at his home in Michigan—in Detroit, Michigan, on April the 6th, 2016. Good morning. GRAHAM BEAL: Good morning. JAMES MCELHINNEY: What was the first recollection you have of being in the presence of a work of art? GRAHAM BEAL: My first clear recollection—I mean, I got involved with art because of my father, who was a wounded vet, and he was dying, took up painting. So, my earliest memories to do with art are actually to do with watching art being made, and making it myself. But my father used to go up to London on the—all paid for by the National Health—to see specialists. And every so often, he would take my sister or me out of school for the day, and we would go up with him. And so, my first clear recollection is going to the Tate Gallery, and looking at Constable and Turner. And then, on one—there weren't very many of those trips, but a few. On one of them, in the Tate, you know, you wander from historical British painting into contemporary—the old Tate. But confronting a Ben Nicholson relief, white plaster relief, and asking my father, why was this art? And without any defensiveness or anything, my father just said "I don't know." You know, it doesn't mean—I forget his exact words. But you know, that's—that was sort of the first moment that I asked a question about something that looked interesting, but in—what I'd discovered, what I'd experienced previously didn't make a great deal of sense. So, you know, a little provincial boy from the south of England, going up to London, going to the free museums, went to the National Gallery and the Tate, is where my father used to take us. JAMES MCELHINNEY: Mm-hmm [affirmative]. There's a scene in a recent play called the Pitmen Painters, which was about a group of coal miners in the north of England, who were taking an art appreciation class. Not having access to a museum, their art history teacher decided to ask them to paint, so they would have things to talk about. And in it, there's an encounter between one of these miners, one of these coal miners, and Ben Nicholson. And he's shocked when he learns what Nicholson sells his work for, as opposed to the work that, you know—as opposed to the prices the miners are able to get. And the collector patron who's sponsoring all of this says, "The value has nothing to do with the price." Sort of a nice quote— GRAHAM BEAL Yeah. JAMES MCELHINNEY: —as a way to connect—I often ask narrators what was their first encounter with a work of art because these conversations are intended to, you know, to tell their story, in relationship to artistic practice, or work in academia, in the museum world, or just patrons or what have you. Where did you grow up? GRAHAM BEAL: I grew up in a [. Victorian –GB] seaside resort town called Bexhill-on-Sea— JAMES MCELHINNEY: Bexon-on-Sea? GRAHAM BEAL: Bexhill-on-Sea. JAMES MCELHINNEY: Bexhill? GRAHAM BEAL: —on-Sea, Sussex. It was a kind of a posh seaside resort. My family goes back centuries, on my father's side. In fact, in the 12th century, Bexhill was called Beal. Saxon peasants, as far as the eye can see— JAMES MCELHINNEY: Right. GRAHAM BEAL: But it had one notable feature, which has finally been restored with lottery money. It had one of the great Bauhaus buildings of Europe, the De La Warr Pavilion, built—sponsored by the 9th Earl De La Warr. And it's this—it was—it was a mess, when I was little boy, it was built in the '30s. But that was a kind—we used to go there for band concerts— JAMES MCELHINNEY: Mm-hmm [affirmative]. GRAHAM BEAL: —and pantomimes, and things like that. But it was clearly an exceptional building. And I,one of the great influences on my attitude—my father died when I was 15, —was my art teacher at my high school, grammar schools, as they were called then. His name was Stuart McCrory, and he was of Irish extraction, a Marxist, and had done things like build roads in Yugoslavia when he was a student, and was in the Korean War. But he was a man of just extraordinary tolerance and perception. And he was, many ways, he was like a Japanese Zen. He always asked—he almost always answered a question with a question. And he and my—the headmaster made a couple of comments when I was a senior pupil of what an extraordinary man Steuart McCrory was. And very—I have painting by him, hanging above—in my study. JAMES MCELHINNEY: So, he was a practicing artist— GRAHAM BEAL: He was a practicing artist— JAMES MCELHINNEY: —himself? GRAHAM BEAL: —yes. JAMES MCELHINNEY: Just out of curiosity, may we note the name of your father? GRAHAM BEAL: My father's name was Cecil John Beal. He was a journeyman electrician. He—my mother was, in British fashion, was from a—married below herself. They met during the war, and my mother also had artistic interests. She had originally intended to try to go into dress design, and my sister now has many of her books that she did when she was a girl. So, I had this background—on my mother's side—we lived with my grandfather —her father, and we moved to the south. And he was a semiprofessional Irish tenor, as a young man, growing up in Liverpool, part of the Irish diaspora. So, I always had—you know, even though we lived in very modest, if not constrained, circumstances, there was always this background of appreciation—we all sang in the house— JAMES MCELHINNEY: Mm-hmm [affirmative]. GRAHAM BEAL: —and there was just this—the fact that art was accepted as something natural, normal, and something that individuals participated in. JAMES MCELHINNEY: So, your father's interest in art came about as a result of his convalescence from— GRAHAM BEAL: Yes. Yes. He took up oil painting. He had a natural facility for drawing horses, and he painted in a painstakingly—almost—it was almost a pre-Raphaelite technique. He would paint the picture in white, first, and then in pre-Raphaelite style— JAMES MCELHINNEY: Right. GRAHAM BEAL: — apply the color. I don't know why he—I never understood why he—as I look back on it, why he had opted for that kind of approach, but he picked it up somewhere. JAMES MCELHINNEY: Interesting. And he had been injured in the war? GRAHAM BEAL: Yeah, yeah. He was a kamikaze—he was on an aircraft carrier, and a kamikaze—and he got some infection, ultimately, from a wound that ultimately killed him because it destroyed his kidneys. JAMES MCELHINNEY: So, he's in the Pacific? GRAHAM BEAL: Yeah. JAMES MCELHINNEY: I guess a lot of—a lot of popular history, I guess, or I should say, popular memory, doesn't remember the British— GRAHAM BEAL: Right. JAMES MCELHINNEY: —naval engagements in the war in against Japan— GRAHAM BEAL: Right. JAMES MCELHINNEY: —because the American navy was so— GRAHAM BEAL: The narrative yes— JAMES MCELHINNEY: —aggressive about public relations, as well as— GRAHAM BEAL: Oh, yeah. JAMES MCELHINNEY: —operations. GRAHAM BEAL: Well, the admiral of my father's fleet was Admiral Lamb, and he was called Poor Little Baa Lamb because he had to do what the Americans told him. JAMES MCELHINNEY: Oh, dear. But MacArthur you know, never went anywhere without a film crew. GRAHAM BEAL: Yeah. JAMES MCELHINNEY: So, it was—I mean, they were— GRAHAM BEAL: Like many generals, he was an appalling man. [They laugh.] JAMES MCELHINNEY: So, beyond grammar school and pre-college education, what was your trajectory? What did you think your path in life would be? GRAHAM BEAL: I wanted to be a painter, and one of the conversations I remember with Stewart McCrory was my asking him how artists made a living. And he said, well, you have to find some way to support yourself. You become a teacher, like me. And he must've seen the disappointment on my face. And he said, well, if that doesn't interest you, have you thought about art history? And to me, art history was something that he taught for half an hour. We had three-hour art classes, believe it or not, in those days. And art history was the half hour that we had to get out of the way, in my mind, before we could actually start the real class.