Translated by Line Kallmayer from the original source: Ørskov, Willy. “Er Kunstakademiet Værd at Beskæftige Sig Med I 1979?” Akademiet Og De Skønne Kunster: Sophienholm. Ed. Stig Brøgger. Lyngby-Taarbæk Kommune: Stadsbiblioteket I Lyngby, 1979. 96-101. Print.

In the sculpture garden of the Academy of Fine Arts, there is a gravestone for the painter Abildgaard’s dog (Abildgaard 1743-1809). Supposedly there is a grave for the dog too, but in reality the dog dwells, as far as we know, in the part of the original sculpture garden, which later was converted into the street named Heiberggade. It so happens that – on occasion – people enter the School of Sculpture and ask to see the burial site of Abildgaard’s dog. I hope, with this story, to give you an impression of some of the atmosphere that surrounds the Academy. It is that odd. Or rather, the Danes are that odd. I also hope that I may have indicated my own limitations. When I refer to it as “odd”, it is because there are certain dimensions to the human psyche that evade me, and therefore my reflections on the Academy of Fine Arts will have their shortcomings. They will be short of veneration.

The Academy of Fine Arts consists of the School of Architecture, the Schools of Visual Art and the new School of Conservation. In the following, I shall focus mainly on the Schools of Visual Art, even if the School of Architecture by far exceeds the other two when it comes to number of students, staff, and resources. Of the millions of kroner yearly set aside by the state for visual arts, approximately 50% exclusively goes to maintenance of the Visual Arts Schools of the Academy of Fine Arts. For this reason alone (if nothing else) the Academy is still in 1979 worth discussing due to its many possibilities. The Danish Arts Council distributes most of the remaining 50% of the government funding, as stipends, artist commissions and purchases of art works for institutions. I wish to claim that the Arts Council functions pretty well, despite what one might think of the various committees’ agendas and purchasing policies. The structure of the Arts Council assures frequent renewal; the committees are replaced every three years. A council regulates it, and it has an administrative function, which perhaps should be regarded as rather straightforward.
The Academy works differently.

It is a stiff-legged and sluggish colossus that devours everything and through generations has consumed many people’s working capacity without much of a result. We must attempt to demonstrate this according to the investments in materials and human effort.
Of course the Academy has undergone changes that are in line with the country’s government structure, which has transitioned from autocratic monarchy to constitutional monarchy and cabinet responsibility (which will probably be evident in the exhibition). The Academy schools are still “royal” to the bone, but they are, in fact, of course bourgeoisified: They are not preserved as suppliers to the Royal Court, but as an expression of traditional bourgeois cultural affairs.
Who does the Academy of Fine Arts belong to? Who does it serve? What place does it hold in society, and how does it function in relation to the other institutions in society etc.? – These are all complex questions, which can only be answered with a certain ambivalence.
In Paris they say that Beaux Arts – the French Academy – functions as a rubbish bin for the unfit youth of the bourgeoisie. Here they can pretend to do something – yes, even “study”. Can we say something similar of our Academy which, since its foundation, has idealized the French? No, that would be out of proportion to claim, since the French bourgeoisie and the Danish have very little in common. We have to articulate and motivate our own criticism.

“The Academy” is many things. The Academy is the Academic Council, which attends to and administers national interests in fine arts and architecture; this means that it offers jury and expertise to society. It assesses, praises, denounces or rewards activities and results within its field. Thus the Academy handles and manages a Danish tradition of fine art and architecture.
But “the Academy” is also the Academy’s School of Architecture and Schools of Visual Art, educating students within the arts (although being detached from the Academic Council).
Finally “the Academy” consists of some buildings; the old noble castle of “Charlottenborg” which, like an “art church”, lends its patinated frame and throws noble glamour and flattery of the king on its “art”. All things considered, none of these three institutional units adequately meet the requirements of their function in the light of society. Formally the three departments work independently. Although in practice there are many connecting and joint elements between the Academic Council, the Academy Schools and the building complex, Charlottenborg, where they are accommodated. And therefore, in our minds, they are bound to intertwine.
Generally one could say that there are great disadvantages in the formal separation of the Academy’s functions, (e.g. the separation between the School of Architecture and the Schools of Visual Art in the 60s). Although these are not the advantages one might anticipate, if a radical separation existed, for instance if the departments were located (accommodated) in different parts of the country. For this reason alone a geographical differentiation would prevail – also with regards to the people involved.

Let us go into details. The Academic Council has no resources, neither technical nor financial, and can therefore not, like other parallel institutions, base its expertise on research. Let us for instance compare it to the Danish Building Research Institute. It is absolutely correct that aesthetic concerns cannot be treated without ambiguity like the technical ones. However, when it comes to environmental planning, to use a typical example, in which the public can make enquiries to the Academic Council, it is likely to imagine an interdisciplinary exploration of environmental models and an arrangement of methods of analysis, wherefrom evaluations could be made. In addition, the Academic Council does not have any qualifications other than those assigned by the users, every time an enquiry is made. The Academic Council can never acquire skills singlehandedly. This means that the Council is often faced with situations where it only functions (or enquirers cynically use them) as an obstacle for ongoing initiatives.
In other words, despite the accelerated financial, technical and traffic-related exploitation of the country, there is no agency maintaining a parallel aesthetic planning in an effective manner. This is due to shortsightedness. Lack of aesthetic planning is not necessarily immediately disastrous, (like lack of technical planning is – and still is to an even wider extent, since the technical apparatus is still becoming increasingly vulnerable) – often its effect will not become evident until later on.

Of course the Academy Schools are authorized to undertake teachings of Fine Arts – or rather: it is the individual professor who, by royal permission, has that very authority. However, the teaching is – unlike in other institutions of higher education often formally compared to the Academy Schools – not based on a social contract. This means that no one knows if the actual teaching has any use. It does not provide any form of “qualification”. And whether the students are able to support themselves based on this foundation, which the school has provided over the course of six years – or they will then have to turn to the unemployment office – yes, again this depends on other parameters that the school cannot control. But this only applies to the Schools of Visual Art.
The School of Architecture provides a degree, a qualification securing the right to minimum wages, the possibility of joining a union and, in case of unemployment, benefits.
When it comes to the School of Visual Art: a great ZERO. No promises or offers of work. No guarantee of minimum wages, no unemployment benefits, no benefits in case of illness, no social protection – nothing. The artists are free, they say. They are free from a great deal of benefits taken for granted by other members of society. It is easy to agree on.
We demand or expect from the students who graduate from the Schools of Visual Art that they must break through on the art market like small “free merchants”. If they don’t make it – they only have themselves to blame. It is only the natural way to regulate the market. It becomes another type of examination where you either pass or fail. The artist who cannot handle the competition must find another way to make a living.
Of the 700 members of the Danish Visual Artists, it is expected that 90% will make a living through other jobs. Here we have one of the most frustrated groups in Danish society. You can only prove to be an artist if you are successful, and those who are not are subjected to further crudeness, when the tax authorities classify their real “trade”, their education, the arts, as a non-deductible hobby – since they only really can practice it on Sundays and don’t really make any money from it.
Did the schools sell the right to a social contract – a qualifying education – for the illusion we call “artistic freedom”? An illusion because the artistic freedom, at any rate, would have been a reality today.

The teaching is not good enough; you can get by without it. This becomes clear when you observe a majority of the artists most active today. The most esteemed artists and those who make the most money are not graduates from the Academy. Yes – in many cases none of them even sat foot in there, unlike many others, who have been there for 6-7 years and don’t make it.

The Academy does not belong to society, although it should. The Academy does not belong to the students, although it should. Who does it then belong to then?
It belongs to the professors. I am not trying to be funny here. That is just the way it is. This is the way it is founded. The core of the Academy is the professor schools. The Academy’s teaching qualifications are based on each individual professor’s qualifications. It is apprenticeship through and through: the trainees learn through examples. The Academy as such is not in possession of an objective type of knowledge.
The artist’s existence in society as well as the artist’s “education” is therefore based on mythology. These are not only myths constructed by the individual on a personal level, but also the collective myths shaped by the whole artist community. Some of the ingredients are as follows: 1) The artist does not work according to free will but God-given inspiration. When he does not work it is due to lack of inspiration. 2) The artist must therefore be free from outside demands and orders other than those of his own inner being. 3) The artist is consequently not a citizen in society equal to others; he has one foot outside society. 4) The artist represents the avant-garde – not tradition. Therefore it is only natural that he remains unknown in the beginning, but in time will achieve victory and praise.
In consequence the Academy sets a scene for – not a profession, not a trade, but a group of individuals: the artist community which, like the old guilds, is self-regulated and autonomous. There is no brutal government administration or institution that controls who is celebrated and who is in the gutter. It is for the artists to decide. For it is they – solely – who shall be members of juries, committees and boards, and thus rule the artists’ lives. The “art institution” is a monster devouring its own young.
The physical existence of the Academy: The buildings.
Much ink and oratorical gifts have been sacrificed to convince a usually sceptical public that the location of the Academy at Kongens Nytorv makes it both irreplaceable and a cultural asset. This happened most recently during the planning of the expansion of the Royal Theatre. The Academy staff stubbornly defended the view that relocation would be fatal. What arguments justify the continued presence of the Academy in an old castle, in ancient rooms that are unproductive and unpractical, in the same manner that it has been for 225 years ago? The arguments were plentiful, but irrational: tradition, the pictorial buildings, the courtyards and alleys, the central location – yes even the light and – it is claimed – the particular atmospheric conditions of the square. Eckersberg himself is called upon. The actual, but repressed argument is probably this: the inherent royal patronage and prestige related to its location – which, to some extent, even reflects on the individual Danish artists.

Denmark is a conservative country. Therefore there is no prospect – or danger – (please cross out the wrong word), of the Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts being overthrown – not even remarkably transformed. If one still entertains the idea of shutting down the Academy, then it should be in the hope that the art school as such, by ridding itself of its fictive privileges, could emerge in a more genuine form, as a more real exponent for its time and society today – and therefore more useful for all parties.
The Academy cannot base its entire existence on giving birth to one single genius per century. Geniuses will get by. The purpose of the school is to foster talent that can enter into society and defend an aesthetic attitude in all the conditions of society. The teaching must support such a foundation. These contemporary artists must form a counterbalance or a resistance to the overruling technological arguments. The school must fight this battle for their students so that they can offer them a proper and relevant education and guarantee work after graduation or, as a consequence, unemployment insurance similar to the ones in other professional fields.
It is possible to imagine a separation of the Academy Schools into separate units relocated to other parts of the country. There they could grow and find their footing – something the institution at Kongens Nytorv never did. The provincial town of Hobro is not any further from Copenhagen than Paris or New York.
Furthermore there are, contrary to what one may think, no communication and no connection between the different schools currently existing under the same roof.

PS. What ever happened to the protest of The Free Sculptors in 1966? Oh yes, the professors were hired for six years at a time instead of a lifetime. I believe this was a consequence of their action. And this reform makes a difference.