Julian Spalding

The exploding sails of Frank Gehry’s Louis Vuitton building in Paris are currently packed with the exhilarating visual explorations of the octogenarian artist David Hockney. The exhibition begins with a roomful of the paintings that made Hockney famous in the 1960s: his graffiti-style canvases, packed with secret codes and illicit kisses. The next gallery is full of the very different paintings that made him even more famous: swimming pools in sunshine and boys sprawled on beds. Gays straight on, square to the picture frame – images, pure and simple; no hidden hints, no text. This gallery also contains a couple of the portraits that further spread his fame. Sadly, none of the drawings for these are included.

This exhibition is awash with luscious brushstrokes, but then that’s to be expected: it’s full of Scottish painting. Before the barren era of conceptual art, which most hope is over, people often observed that the Scots could paint while the English could draw. Why is a bit of mystery, but it was true right through the 18th and 19th centuries and well into the 20th. The Dovecot Studios exhibition opens with John Duncan Fergusson’s portrait of his lover and first muse, Jean Maconochie, painted about 1902. It’s a fabulous eyeful of brush marks.

There’s more than a grain of truth in the popular caricature of a curator as a mother hen clucking frantically if anyone gets too near her nest – not that her eggs are about to hatch, let alone run. The recent threat of the British Council to ‘deaccession’ – to put it more bluntly, sell – its 9,000-strong collection of British art has caused a predictable flurry in the curatorial world. Doesn’t the British Council know that public art collections are sacrosanct and must be preserved for all time? When I was director of Glasgow’s museums and art galleries, I remember talking to my committee about my long-term plans for the city’s great permanent collection when the leader of the council, Pat Lally, commented drily that there was no such thing as ‘permanent’.