The Berkeley Square Group reconvened last night for its much-anticipated meeting, held in the function room of The Pelican & Crown, a Georgian pub in St James’s whose historic charm consists of sticky tables, uncleaned, some say, since Cromwell, and wallpaper older than the combined ages of all the guests. (The location was chosen because the usual Mayfair bistros are becoming “too accessible to the general public,” a situation the group finds both alarming and deeply vulgar).
THE ATTENDEES
In attendance were familiar figures and a few fresh faces. Boz, the painter, arrived in a coat so heavily embroidered it looked like it had been stolen from a theatre production of The Pirates of Penzance. P1X3L, the pixel artist, brought a laptop with a GIF of a blinking eye, which he set on the table and never referred to. Elara Voss, the monochrome sculptor, spent most of the evening glaring in horror at the pub’s patterned carpet.
New attendees included:
• Sir Clarence Mulliner, a collector who only buys works painted in W1.
• Petronella Binks, a “Maximalist” critic who refuses to review any artwork under 12 feet wide.
• Marco del Vento, a conceptual artist whose current project involves mailing himself to galleries in increasingly smaller boxes.
THE FOOD
Dinner was a resolutely unfashionable affair, which several members took as a positive conceptual statement.
• Steak and ale pie (“deeply literal,” sniffed Elara)
• Fish and chips (“a working-class masterpiece,” declared Boz)
• Sticky toffee pudding (“the only dessert with the courage to be ugly,” according to Sir Clarence)
The wine list was met with despair. P1X3L asked for a natural wine “with notes of pixelation,” which the barman interpreted as a pint of bitter.
THE DISCUSSION
The official agenda was “Bringing Fine Art to the Masses,” though it quickly morphed into a competition over who could propose the most exciting exhibition venue in central London for their inaugural show. Ideas included:
• Hanging a retrospective of Elara Voss’s sculptures from the whispering gallery at the top of St Paul’s Cathedral (“visitors must wear climbing harnesses”)
• A floating pontoon gallery on the Thames, accessible only by gondola imported from Venice (“very democratic,” said Petronella, deadpan)
• Transforming the lifts in The Shard into miniature viewing rooms that played video art on the way up and muttered unintelligible aphorisms in pidgin French (“perfect for those afraid of heights”)
• An immersive installation inside Fortnum & Mason (“it’s a wonderful shop, you won’t be able tell what’s art and what’s stock,” explained Marco)
The conversation then turned, inevitably, to funding. Sir Clarence suggested ticket prices should be “just high enough to keep out the merely curious.” Boz countered that true engagement with the public requires “making them feel unworthy but somehow still paying.”
HOW TO JOIN
The Berkeley Square Group continues to maintain its opaque membership process. Prospective members must:
1. Be introduced by two existing members, preferably at a dinner where no fewer than three people storm out.
2. Submit a short statement on “What Art Means to Me” that will be read aloud and mercilessly mocked.
3. Demonstrate a working knowledge of at least one obscure Eastern European painter whose work cannot be found online.
CLOSING NOTES
The evening ended with P1X3L finally acknowledging his blinking GIF and projecting it onto the pub’s dartboard, which prompted a heated debate about whether the act was “interventionist” or “just irritating.” A date for the next meeting was tentatively set, with locations under consideration including the back of a moving double-decker bus and the crypt beneath St Martin-in-the-Fields.
As ever, the Berkeley Square Group left united in their shared mission to drink fine wine, eat fine food and bring fine art to the public. Goodbyes were brief, everyone wanted to get home before they had to get up.
