The 1960s was the decade of revolution. It was the era of the Beatles, the mini-skirt, and Pop Art. It was the era of "Out with the Old."
It was also, strangely, the decade that saved Alma-Tadema.
Maybe it was the reaction against the cold minimalism of the 1950s. Maybe it was a drug-fueled appreciation for intense color and hallucinogenic detail (Tadema's paintings are certainly "trippy" in their clarity). But suddenly, the "impossible" beauty of Victorian springtime in art became cool again.
The Man Who Saved the Emperor
The hero of this story is an unlikely one: Allen Funt.
You might know him as the creator and host of the TV show Candid Camera. He was a man who made his living pranking people. But his love for art was serious.
In the 1960s, appearing to be the only man in the world doing so, Funt started buying Alma-Tademas.
He scoured the antique shops of London. Dealers thought he was crazy. "Why do you want this old Victorian junk?" they asked. They were practically giving the paintings away.
Funt bought masterpieces for less than the price of a used sofa. He bought The Roses of Heliogabalus. He bought Spring. He built the largest collection of Alma-Tadema works in the world, and he did it for pennies on the dollar.
The Exhibition that Changed Everything
The turning point came in 1973.
Funt allowed his collection to be exhibited at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. The curator, Mario Amaya, titled the show "Victorians in Togas."
The critics sharpened their knives, ready to mock this "kitsch." But a funny thing happened. The public showed up.
They lined up around the block. They stood in front of the paintings and gasped. They saw the marble. They saw the flowers. They saw the eternal springtime in art that they had been denied for half a century.
The spell was broken. It was okay to like beauty again. The "bad painter" was back, and this time, he was here to stay.
