The circumstances surrounding the founding of the Royal Academy are not often considered by the general public. Perhaps it is simply taken for granted, as if the Royal Academy was an inevitable institution; as inevitable a response to the eighteenth century as revolutions, enlightenment and the sentimental novel. Yet, as the current display at the Royal Academy points out, its founding was very much dependent on a few determined men.

One of the most determined of these was George III, whose patronage, financing and intimate involvement ensured the survival of the fledgling institution. After the collapse, due to infighting, of a similar society of artists, the King was determined to become personally involved with the new Academy. He provided the institution with a headquarters and money for its foundation. He advised on the creation of administrative structures and even wrote the text for the diplomas to be awarded to each new member. The King was apparently fond of referring to the RA as ‘his’ Academy, though his involvement was certainly less invasive and controlling than comparable institutions on the continent.

This patronage and involvement was not without its problems, however. Though the RA was a more stable structure than previous attempts to incorporate the nations’ artists, it was not without conflict. The largest of these was the antipathy between the King and the Academy’s first president, Sir Joshua Reynolds. The two men apparently loathed each other, though they were respectful in public. In order to keep an eye on Sir Joshua, who was the popular favourite, the King appointed his personal friend, Sir William Chambers, as treasurer. With a constant check on his finances, Reynolds was frustrated in many of his endeavours. Yet it is he who is remembered as the spiritual heart of the Royal Academy: his yearly lectures, later published as the Discourses, described the ideals of academic painting of the time, and have been studied ever since.

These are the two giant presences one experiences straight away when entering the current exhibition. The room is framed with four large works by Reynolds: two monumental portraits of George III and Queen Charlotte regard each other from opposite walls, while slightly smaller portraits of Reynolds and Chambers greet the viewer as they enter the room. These paintings were all done in 1779-80 to hang together in the Council Chamber, and it is wonderful to see them together, as originally intended.

The portraits of the monarch and his wife, though powerful, are not generally considered the most successful Reynolds ever painted. However, his own self-portrait is a masterpiece of dignity and flourish. The catalogue describes the picture as a ‘visual manifesto of his artistic beliefs’ and certainly the principles he laid down in his many Discourses are in evidence here, as is his authority to state them. Standing in front of a bust of Michelangelo, his artistic hero, he wears lush academic robes, and clutches a roll of paper in his fist. This self-assured posture was perhaps composed to contrast with his portrait of his sometime-nemesis Chambers, who looks up hesitantly from his architectural work. Reynolds acknowledges Chambers’ role in the foundation of the Royal Academy by placing Somerset House, which he designed, in the background.

The history of the establishment of the RA is in evidence as well, with the original Instrument of Foundation on display, recording the aims of the Academy and the original list of members. Other items in the display illustrate the structuring of the Academy by its patron and founder members. George III’s draft for the diploma wording, with corrections, is in evidence, as well as the design for the diploma itself by another founding member, Giovanni Battista Cipriani. 

Royal portraits by other founding members can be seen next to the monumental examples by Reynolds, and it is a fascinating exercise to compare Reynolds’ distant and almost haughty portrayal of Queen Charlotte to two smaller engravings hung next to it: Thomas Gainsborough’s happy depiction of the Queen and Angelica Kauffman’s characterisation of Charlotte as a maternal patron of the arts.  

It was, in fact, through Queen Charlotte’s influence that the Academy had two women amongst its founding members (after this time, women were excluded from membership until the twentieth century). Angelica Kauffman and Mary Moser’s work is very much in evidence in this small display, and the latter’s studies of flowers, dismissed as frivolity by subsequent generations, are both captivating and intricate. The two studies by Moser on exhibition, Spring and Summer (both c.1780) were originally intended to be hung between Reynolds’ large portraits of the King and Queen in the Council Chamber. Again, to have the original scheme somewhat realised is interesting to see, and gives this small exhibition space a historic veracity that enhances the story it intends to tell.

With only four walls and several display cases, the RA has managed to create an intriguing portrait of its founding patron and the first members of the Academy. From its celebrated beginning to later tensions and problems, various narratives, told through objects from the Academy’s archives, are succinctly displayed for the viewer. My only criticism is one of scale. Now that my curiosity about the founding members has been piqued, I want to see more. Perhaps the RA will consider a larger exhibition of the work of its founding members? The story of royal patronage is smartly told here, but I suspect that there are other stories waiting in the wings – or rather, buried in the archives of this fascinating institution.

‘The King’s Artists: George III’s Academy’ is at the Royal Academy of Arts, London, from 25 May to 21 October 2012.