KEYS AND TROWELS

Evening Star, Issue 23503, 17 February 1940, Page 3

KEYS AND TROWELS

A BREAK IN CUSTOM [Written By Cyrano for * The Evening Star.’] What’s become of all the gold ? Browning “ For some weeks,” said Walpole of the elder Pitt’s popularity, “ it rained gold boxes.” What became of all those boxes ? Are they still in the family’s possession ? Are they gathering dust in museums, or have they been melted down ? I am moved to ask this question by something that happened in Wellington the other day. When the Minister in Charge of the State Firo Office, Mr Nash, laid the foundation stone of additions to the head office, the architects, Messrs Gummer and Ford, did not present him with the customary trowel of gold or silver; they gave him a parcel of books and a cheque to go to any war fund the Minister chose. This is the second incident of the kind 1 have noticed; there may be many more. Some little time ago Queen Mary broke from tradition by declining the gift of a gold key to open an institution, and performing the ceremony with a steel one. Queen Mary already had over four hundred gold or silver keys in her possession, so her decision was not surprising. What does happen eventually to all such things ? Think of the thousands and thousands of presentations of this sort that have been made to Royalty and public persons generally in the last two hundred years—gold keys and caskets, models, trowels, addresses — ornaments of foundation stone layings, opening of buildings, and receptions. True they have their use. They are an outward and visible sign of an occasion, of appreciation, gratitude, affection, and loyalty. But aesthetically they vary, and as time passes the interest attached to them wanes. Some' are beautiful, but many are ugly. Could a trowel be made really beautiful or even dignified ? Could a miniature spade, marking the, turning of a first sod, be considered a work of art ? As museum pieces some of these caskets and other things are interesting. They show later generations what was the taste of the time in which they were made. If the makers could live to hear the comment of posterity some of them would be staggered. The ornaments of the Victorian age are in this position now. We find it almost impossible to understand how people could have believed that so much ornamentation was even bearable. We should, for the good of our souls, wonder what posterity may think of our own productions. At any rate we should realise that what we design for presentation may be regarded here and abroad as the measure of our artistic taste and execution.

Royalty, of course, has little to do personally with the public presents it receives. It is too busy to linger over them, and there are too many of them to set round rooms that are used. They go somewhere, and it should be interesting to know what'happens to them. It may be that in this crisis the people of England will be asked for gold for the national cause, and there will be a great melting down in palaces and the seats of territorial families. Presentations to private persons are in a rather different category. They have an interest during the lifetime of the 3ient, but children and grandren are apt to regard them as lumber. Many of us have had the job of turning out old family possessions, and, half in satisfaction and half in regret, have consigned things to the flames or the dust-bin that once were given and received in gratitude and pride. There may be a piece of plate that doesn’t go with anything. Who wants the silver trowel with which Uncle William laid the foundation stone of the local town hall? Then there is grandfather’s illuminated address. As children we thought it wonderful, but we really can’t have it on the wall any longer. We have grown out of illuminated addresses. iNo doubt grandfather was a fine man and thoroughly deserved what the address says about him, but couldn’t they have printed the testimonial in good type ? There, of course, is the main explanation' of our attitude. Tastes, change. There is greater simplicity about furniture and the things we have about us. There is a better appreciation of the value of fine printing. Taste may swing-in the other direction and there may be a return to the elaboration that our grandparents thought so natural and satisfactory. Meanwhile let us hope it won’t. Ideals tend towards simplicity and we should follow them, whether we arp honouring a public occasion or choosing a wedding present. (Also it is so easy to give a cruet, regardless of the possibility that half a dozen other friends ; or acquaintances many make the same choice). A thing should be either or useful, or ■ better ; still, both. - A silver trowel is neither beautiful nor useful, and there are special reasons just now why such luxuries (to put it mildly) should be eschewed. The architects of the State Fire office additions, like Queen Mary, have set a good example.