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Kenneth Clark
The astonishing life of Kenneth Clark – the greatest British art historian of his time. As writer and presenter of the 13-part TV series Civilisation he was responsible for the greatest syntheses of art, music, literature and thought ever made – ‘a contribution to civilisation itself’.
Drawing on previously unseen archives, James Stourton reveals the formidable intellect and the complicated private man who wielded enormous influence on all aspects of the arts and drew into his circle a diverse group, many of whom he and his wife Jane would entertain at Saltwood Castle. These included E.M. Forster, Vivien Leigh, Margot Fonteyn, the Queen Mother, Winston Churchill, John Betjeman, Graham Sutherland and Henry Moore. Hidden from view, however, was his wife’s alcoholism and his own womanising.
From his time as Bernard Berenson’s protege at I Tatti in Florence to being the Keeper of Western Art at the Ashmolean aged 27 – by which time he had published The Gothic Revival, the first of his many books – to his appointment as the youngest-ever director of the National Gallery, Clark displayed precocious genius. During the war he arranged for the gallery’s entire collection to be hidden in slate mines in Wales, and organised packed concerts of German classical music at the empty gallery to keep up the spirits of Londoners. The war and the Cold War that followed convinced him of the fragility of culture and that, as a potent humanising force, art should be brought to the widest possible audience, a social and moral position that would inform the rest of his career.
No voice has exercised so much power and influence over the arts in Britain as Clark’s. James Stourton has written a dazzling biography of a towering figure in the art world, a passionate art historian of the Italian Renaissance and a brilliant communicator who, through the many mediums of his work, conveyed the profound beauty and importance of art, architecture and civilisation for generations to come.
Drawing on previously unseen archives, James Stourton reveals the formidable intellect and the complicated private man who wielded enormous influence on all aspects of the arts and drew into his circle a diverse group, many of whom he and his wife Jane would entertain at Saltwood Castle. These included E.M. Forster, Vivien Leigh, Margot Fonteyn, the Queen Mother, Winston Churchill, John Betjeman, Graham Sutherland and Henry Moore. Hidden from view, however, was his wife’s alcoholism and his own womanising.
From his time as Bernard Berenson’s protege at I Tatti in Florence to being the Keeper of Western Art at the Ashmolean aged 27 – by which time he had published The Gothic Revival, the first of his many books – to his appointment as the youngest-ever director of the National Gallery, Clark displayed precocious genius. During the war he arranged for the gallery’s entire collection to be hidden in slate mines in Wales, and organised packed concerts of German classical music at the empty gallery to keep up the spirits of Londoners. The war and the Cold War that followed convinced him of the fragility of culture and that, as a potent humanising force, art should be brought to the widest possible audience, a social and moral position that would inform the rest of his career.
No voice has exercised so much power and influence over the arts in Britain as Clark’s. James Stourton has written a dazzling biography of a towering figure in the art world, a passionate art historian of the Italian Renaissance and a brilliant communicator who, through the many mediums of his work, conveyed the profound beauty and importance of art, architecture and civilisation for generations to come.
496 pages, Hardcover
Published January 1, 2016
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319 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 16 of 17 reviews
December 3, 2016
I hope I can be forgiven for conflating my enthusiasm for the subject and the quality of the book. I first encountered Clark's work as a freshman at West Virginia University in one of those overpopulated survey classes on the Humanities. It was one of those serendipitous experiences of college that I should learn of this man's existence and profit by his insight. Stourton's treatment is thorough, well sourced and entertainingly written. I came away from this work feeling I understand Clark better as a person and why he merits such broad attention.
March 9, 2017
I cannot recall the last time I came across cover art more suited to its subject. This photo of Kenneth Clark represents everything I love about the British who are well (but not overly) educated. I came to Clark’s Civilisation late, as I came to I, Claudius late, in the 1990s. But reading this biography I have no doubt that our more culturally engaged teachers outside of Boston had seen these programs too. We took school trips to the Boston Museum of Fine Arts in the 1970s led by them, no doubt to try and find the world Clark had described with such eloquence. I thought about many things while reading this book, but mainly my upbringing and those few teachers that expected the best from us.
Stourton’s very last note is a sad one. The young don’t care about these “toffs” anymore (I don’t really believe that, but those who hate “culture” love driving this point home). Clark famously described himself as “a stick in the mud” for actually believing in greatness in the arts, decency and order. You hear the upper class accent and are inclined to think here’s someone who likes to align himself with greatness, but who himself is not great. Clark had the option of becoming a distinguished scholar. He certainly understood artists like he was one. But he gave both up for public service. Personally, I have great respect for public servants, but only if they can maintain some independence from the bureaucracy that gives them life. Clark did, which is the main story of this biography.
Stourton handled his material magnificently. I loved reading about the upper crust parties of the 1930s, the entertainments of Clark and his wife Jane. He had the cachet, she the great social charm (he was universally considered too aloof to hold a party on his own); together, they made an excellent pair, setting up Clark’s high level, national appointments later on. At one point Clark took up amorous relationships with other women, Jane to substance abuse. Stourton treats this with class, reserving judgment on either. There is a laughable misreading by a reviewer in The Guardian (no surprise there), who uses the crude vehicle of gender politics to pass judgment on Clark as a man. Stourton is not in the least judgmental about a marriage; in fact, he cedes judgment to the Clark children, those who knew them best. On the question of whether Clark drove his wife to substance abuse, or she to his affairs, their daughter Colette doesn’t assign blame either, only adding that her mother’s volatility did not depend on marital issues; it was a part of her character. We need to take the daughter’s word for it. No one is in a position to judge the internal workings of other families, and yet this pedantic historian on Rome, so obviously riven with professional envy, does. What a disgrace.
All in all, I have no bone to pick about whether art criticism or art itself is in decline. Great arguments could be made for either side. But I do feel the great legacy of European art needs outstanding educators like Clark. What is so moving about this biography is that you don’t end up perceiving him as one of the last figures of an old elite, a man of privilege who little understood the benefits he received at the expense of others. He took his responsibility to the public very seriously, very much aware of it. His politics were complicated. He voted Labour postwar; he was also an admirer and a friend of the Queen, able to see contributions from all corners of the globe attending a ballroom in her honor as a mark of British excellence. I don’t see these views as incompatible. We have much to thank him for: he played a major role protecting art, and then promoting it and its values, when the Nazis attacked Britain.
Throughout, I kept thinking of the Kennedys, particularly JFK. Like Clark, wealth and upper level education separated him from the common people. As a mark of these, JFK’s accent sounded odd, especially to Bostonians. But he was able to reach the commoner’s heart, despite a great amount of resistance coming from all sides, of those who resent the better off. Inspired, I have gone back to Walter Pater, a Clark favorite, and I’m reading his essays again on Da Vinci, Michelangelo and Botticelli with great pleasure, written by one of the class whose education was “an elegance, a luxury and a pride”, as Malcolm Bowra once put it (a Clark friend).
I am writing at length here because this is one of the greater biographies I have read. I’d put Stourton’s up there on my personal favorite list alongside Walter Jackson Bate’s John Keats, Robert Richardson’s Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Joan Ungersma Halperin’s Félix Fénéon. Stourton opens with the King and Queen personally visiting Clark to insist he take the job, despite his reservations. It’s as judicious an opening as Richardson’s where he shows Emerson looking into the tomb of his dear young wife, to see with his own eyes that in fact she’s gone. I admire deeply passionate people who don’t wear their passions on their sleeve, saving it for poetry, or when in service to others. It’s why I love the Japanese so much; they have turned this style into a way of being. The word killeth the spirit, but not with great individuals like these.
Stourton’s very last note is a sad one. The young don’t care about these “toffs” anymore (I don’t really believe that, but those who hate “culture” love driving this point home). Clark famously described himself as “a stick in the mud” for actually believing in greatness in the arts, decency and order. You hear the upper class accent and are inclined to think here’s someone who likes to align himself with greatness, but who himself is not great. Clark had the option of becoming a distinguished scholar. He certainly understood artists like he was one. But he gave both up for public service. Personally, I have great respect for public servants, but only if they can maintain some independence from the bureaucracy that gives them life. Clark did, which is the main story of this biography.
Stourton handled his material magnificently. I loved reading about the upper crust parties of the 1930s, the entertainments of Clark and his wife Jane. He had the cachet, she the great social charm (he was universally considered too aloof to hold a party on his own); together, they made an excellent pair, setting up Clark’s high level, national appointments later on. At one point Clark took up amorous relationships with other women, Jane to substance abuse. Stourton treats this with class, reserving judgment on either. There is a laughable misreading by a reviewer in The Guardian (no surprise there), who uses the crude vehicle of gender politics to pass judgment on Clark as a man. Stourton is not in the least judgmental about a marriage; in fact, he cedes judgment to the Clark children, those who knew them best. On the question of whether Clark drove his wife to substance abuse, or she to his affairs, their daughter Colette doesn’t assign blame either, only adding that her mother’s volatility did not depend on marital issues; it was a part of her character. We need to take the daughter’s word for it. No one is in a position to judge the internal workings of other families, and yet this pedantic historian on Rome, so obviously riven with professional envy, does. What a disgrace.
All in all, I have no bone to pick about whether art criticism or art itself is in decline. Great arguments could be made for either side. But I do feel the great legacy of European art needs outstanding educators like Clark. What is so moving about this biography is that you don’t end up perceiving him as one of the last figures of an old elite, a man of privilege who little understood the benefits he received at the expense of others. He took his responsibility to the public very seriously, very much aware of it. His politics were complicated. He voted Labour postwar; he was also an admirer and a friend of the Queen, able to see contributions from all corners of the globe attending a ballroom in her honor as a mark of British excellence. I don’t see these views as incompatible. We have much to thank him for: he played a major role protecting art, and then promoting it and its values, when the Nazis attacked Britain.
Throughout, I kept thinking of the Kennedys, particularly JFK. Like Clark, wealth and upper level education separated him from the common people. As a mark of these, JFK’s accent sounded odd, especially to Bostonians. But he was able to reach the commoner’s heart, despite a great amount of resistance coming from all sides, of those who resent the better off. Inspired, I have gone back to Walter Pater, a Clark favorite, and I’m reading his essays again on Da Vinci, Michelangelo and Botticelli with great pleasure, written by one of the class whose education was “an elegance, a luxury and a pride”, as Malcolm Bowra once put it (a Clark friend).
I am writing at length here because this is one of the greater biographies I have read. I’d put Stourton’s up there on my personal favorite list alongside Walter Jackson Bate’s John Keats, Robert Richardson’s Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Joan Ungersma Halperin’s Félix Fénéon. Stourton opens with the King and Queen personally visiting Clark to insist he take the job, despite his reservations. It’s as judicious an opening as Richardson’s where he shows Emerson looking into the tomb of his dear young wife, to see with his own eyes that in fact she’s gone. I admire deeply passionate people who don’t wear their passions on their sleeve, saving it for poetry, or when in service to others. It’s why I love the Japanese so much; they have turned this style into a way of being. The word killeth the spirit, but not with great individuals like these.
June 6, 2017
My main memory of Kenneth Clark is from his TV series, "Civilization," which they used to play in my art history classes at University. I'm afraid back then I took him with a grain of salt and a friend from the time and I used to mock his posh accent. I do, however, still vividly remember the films themselves so they must have had some effect on me. Looking back, I realize he was an important figure in what became known as the "authored" documentary style and was vastly influential in his public works not only on television but with The National Gallery in wartime Britain, and several other institutions in the movement to bring an understanding and appreciation of art and culture to ordinary people. What I didn't know about him was his own thirst for knowledge, his complicated private life and his unconditional support of artists such as Henry Moore and Graham Sutherland. James Stourton's excellent biography gives us the full picture of a remarkable figure in 20th Century culture who had a far-reaching influence greater than most people realize. - BH.
October 26, 2019
This was a good overview of the life and work of Sir Kenneth Clark. He became a household name following the airing of Civilization, which made art history accessible to everyone, including those who grew up in the sticks. And it is primarily as an educator that the author contends that Clark deserves to be remembered. While this is certainly the case, I think that I would have liked to see more of Clark’s works addressed. Many of these began life as lectures, but I think that James Stourton might have done more with his book on Leonardo and his study of The Nude.
What Stourton does get right is Clark the populist of art history and aesthetics. His role as director of the National Gallery and his subsequent career made western art accessible to a wider audience than probably could be imagined. In this role he excelled and Stourton is correct to see the influence of Ruskin and Walter Pater. A figure Stourton does not acknowledge (and perhaps he did not inform Clark’s view) is William Morris, who sought to raise the taste of the average Britain by acquainting him with the sublime and the beautiful.
Clark’s world view for this impulse to educate and to make the treasures of western art accessible to the population doubtless was influenced and inspired by no less a figure than Leon Battista Alberti, a hero of Clark’s as viewers of Civilization are well aware. In a sense, the influence of Alberti and the other humanists of the Renaissance on a level probably inspired these efforts of Clark to a degree. The emphasis that these thinkers placed on the elevating powers of the beautiful surely provided a basis for Clark to promulgate their ideals as he was promoting their artifacts.
I would recommend this book as a way to inform oneself about Clark and some of the leading figures in the European art world, Roger Fry, Bernard Berenson, and John Berger (Clark’s antithesis). But to really understand Clark, I would suggest a thorough going over of the works he authored as well. And perhaps Ruskin and Pater for good measure.
What Stourton does get right is Clark the populist of art history and aesthetics. His role as director of the National Gallery and his subsequent career made western art accessible to a wider audience than probably could be imagined. In this role he excelled and Stourton is correct to see the influence of Ruskin and Walter Pater. A figure Stourton does not acknowledge (and perhaps he did not inform Clark’s view) is William Morris, who sought to raise the taste of the average Britain by acquainting him with the sublime and the beautiful.
Clark’s world view for this impulse to educate and to make the treasures of western art accessible to the population doubtless was influenced and inspired by no less a figure than Leon Battista Alberti, a hero of Clark’s as viewers of Civilization are well aware. In a sense, the influence of Alberti and the other humanists of the Renaissance on a level probably inspired these efforts of Clark to a degree. The emphasis that these thinkers placed on the elevating powers of the beautiful surely provided a basis for Clark to promulgate their ideals as he was promoting their artifacts.
I would recommend this book as a way to inform oneself about Clark and some of the leading figures in the European art world, Roger Fry, Bernard Berenson, and John Berger (Clark’s antithesis). But to really understand Clark, I would suggest a thorough going over of the works he authored as well. And perhaps Ruskin and Pater for good measure.
September 1, 2020
I feel fortunate to have been living in Washington at just the right moment to have attended the first American showing of the Civilisation series in 1969—not on TV (I didn’t own one at the time) but on a large screen at the National Gallery. From the first episode, I was hooked on the power of Kenneth Clark (1903-1983) to communicate the history of Western European culture to modestly educated people who had no particular bent toward art.
James Stourton (b. 1956) is an art historian from the same upper-class background as his subject, and with the same interests, which makes him an excellent interpreter of this rich, privileged, and well-educated popularizer of European civilization. (Like me, Stourton was taken with Clark’s Civilisation, though as a school boy.) He can even make interesting Clark’s committee work for an impossibly extensive assortment of arts organizations. Of Clark’s multiple romantic affairs, Stourton is as benign as possible, even when the denouement of the one with Janet Stone reveals Clark to have been a totally insensitive cad.
Stourton writes well, but most Americans will need more introduction to the British art world of the first half of the 20th century than he can provide in a biography of four hundred pages. Just have your smart phone handy. As a bonus, you can educate yourself about the paintings, sculptures, and buildings that Clark especially enjoyed.
James Stourton (b. 1956) is an art historian from the same upper-class background as his subject, and with the same interests, which makes him an excellent interpreter of this rich, privileged, and well-educated popularizer of European civilization. (Like me, Stourton was taken with Clark’s Civilisation, though as a school boy.) He can even make interesting Clark’s committee work for an impossibly extensive assortment of arts organizations. Of Clark’s multiple romantic affairs, Stourton is as benign as possible, even when the denouement of the one with Janet Stone reveals Clark to have been a totally insensitive cad.
Stourton writes well, but most Americans will need more introduction to the British art world of the first half of the 20th century than he can provide in a biography of four hundred pages. Just have your smart phone handy. As a bonus, you can educate yourself about the paintings, sculptures, and buildings that Clark especially enjoyed.
September 11, 2018
An excellent biography of Kenneth Clark (the art critic and writer (not to be confused with the Conservative politician of the same name). He is most famous for his presentation of the, at the time, ground-breaking TV series ‘Civilisation’ in the late 1960s, but also had great influence over the development of many of Britain’s leading cultural institutions, including the Ashmolean Museum, the National Gallery, the Arts Council and Independent Television. Read about it here in this very accessible and balanced account of his life.
July 25, 2020
A very thorough account of this man’s extraordinary life. It’s fascinating to trace Clark’s journey from being a slightly aloof aesthete to a commanding figurehead of public art appreciation who never loses his sensitive and modest disposition. That Clark could weather the challenges of war, artistic inwardness and evolving public tastes in order to promote art for the masses remains a remarkable feat. Recommended for anyone with interests in art criticism, the educational power of media, art history and more.
January 23, 2022
Biography's are always difficult for me to read as it is easy for me to get lost in all of the details of ones life. I had chosen this book at random from my public library and I'm really glad I came across this book. I had never heard of Kenneth Clark and was fascinated by his life. Reading this book has inspired me to read his book, Landscape into Art and watch his television program, Civilisation.
September 12, 2017
A well researched biography of this great intermediator of art, who particularly with his epic television series, Civilisation, brought the joy of art to millions. This book also touches on his more personal life, his infidelities and how his wife took to the bottle. What Kenneth Clark managed to do on television was truly unique, and many have tried to imitate his example with varying success.
August 10, 2018
A magisterial summary of the life Lord "Clark of Civilisation", or should that be "Trivialisation"? Love him or hate him, there is no doubt of the impact of "Civilisation" on the popular consciousness. That being said there is much more to this complex figure, and Stourton's Bio captures the essence of the man.
Including and extensive bibliography and notes this is a sound work of biography.
Including and extensive bibliography and notes this is a sound work of biography.
March 16, 2017
A clear-eyed, elegant biography of the art historian Kenneth Clark, whose "Civilisation" series planted the primary seed of my intellectual life.
October 2, 2018
Couldn't really get into this book. While it was technically impressive - well researched and footnoted - the author never brought his subject to life.
Want to read
November 2, 2025New York Public Library
December 21, 2021
This marvellous book is a pleasure to read. Clark turns out to be an intriguing man, the story of his life made all the more interesting, of course, because we knew him through Civilisation. The biography is greatly helped by the quotations from Clark’s private letters to Janet Stone, one of his many women friends, to whom he uncharacteristically opened up. He came across to most as someone elusive and a patrician. He had the fortune to possess an encyclopaedic memory. He was self-depreciating. He exhibited an astonishing humility in the wake of the success of Civilisation. We learn of his enormous contribution through his unsung and wide-ranging committee work in many different fields. Civilisation heralded the success of ‘authored’ television programmes.
May 28, 2020
The economist
July 7, 2017
Excellent biography of Kenneth Clark which has led me to revisit watching Civilisation. It has also led me to reread Ruskin's autobiography, Praeterita. Clark was quite the ladies man surprisingly enough!
Displaying 1 - 16 of 17 reviews