Setting: The hall of a sailing club, with a large notice board inside. Time: After the race has finished.
A regular winner steps forward and, with a joyful smile, accepts his prize: a crystal bowl with a silver rim. As he steps back to his seat, someone whispers to him: “How many is that, actually?” Resigned, he whispers back: “The twenty-eighth!” Poor winner!
Sailing, more than almost any other sport, is a gentleman’s sport. The vast majority of non-sailors cannot possibly understand this. The races are impossible to miss and last for many hours, sometimes half a day. There is no betting pool to provide the thrill. The large sums of money set aside in motor racing to cover part of the expenses do not apply to us. The prizes are, without exception, honorary awards, and every year our numerous clubs raise a very substantial sum for their many hundreds of races to purchase prizes. Does this sum serve to provide our arts and crafts sector with lucrative commissions? Do the prizes fulfil their sole purpose – to bring joy to the winners and become a decoration in their homes – when, in the end, nothing more comes of it than the twenty-eighth glass bowl? It seems to me that it is a shame to spend so much money; more and better things could be achieved with it.
When criticising a long-established institution, one must have suggestions for improvement to hand. Whilst searching for such suggestions, I came across a series of essays in an old English journal that deal with this very issue. I reproduce excerpts from them here:
“One should never choose on the basis of cheapness, but always on the basis of the quality of the work; otherwise, one undermines the national character. Workers from whom one does not demand the highest standards of performance are also regarded as less qualified as human beings. Excellence in everything produced through work is the only proof of a nation’s greatness. If it fails in the quality of its work, it will fail all the more in matters of the ideal.”
Are the sports prizes awarded today the pinnacle of national achievement? No one can say today exactly how many racing and sports prizes are awarded each year, for the number of clubs runs into the hundreds. The silver sports trophy is to the young Englishman what the olive wreath of the World Games was to the Greeks: not merely a prize for victory, but an encouragement to perfect himself in all manly virtues. That is why such a trophy should be a truly beautiful object, a work of art.
Is that asking too much? Sensible people will say: No! The goldsmiths say: Yes. The goldsmiths laugh at the taste of the (English!) buyers of these items. They aren’t looking for beauty at all. “Start by educating our customers. Shipbuilders and sportsmen have, strangely enough, remained outside the modern art movement.” If one were to commission a renowned artist to create a sports trophy, it would be extraordinarily expensive. One could, of course, try to have the artist produce only the drawings and entrust the execution to a simple goldsmith under the artist’s supervision. But the craftsman would not put up with that. In any case, it is not so much a matter of obtaining a few really good designs; rather, the whole system needs to be changed. We must begin by educating sportspeople so that they are ashamed of having bad taste. Their appreciation of art must be developed.
But how? As a rule, sportspeople don’t read art magazines, and sports newspapers take no interest in the artistic value of the trophies. When sportspeople simply win prizes, they couldn’t care less what they look like. “Why all the fuss about it?” they would ask. “The things serve their purpose just fine as they are, and we’re used to them!”
As the discussion progresses, it is pointed out that one is by no means restricted to using silver alone in the making of these items. Why not occasionally work with copper, brass or tin as well? Iron inlaid with precious metals – one need only recall the wonderfully beautiful iron jewellery in Germany following the Wars of Liberation – bowls made of precious wood or porcelain; what beautiful objects can be produced in enamel.” So says the anonymous Englishman.
As you can see, nothing has changed in almost 30 years. General taste has improved somewhat, but on the other hand – at least here – the sums of money available have shrunk. In the past, 500 to 600 M. were available for the major prizes; today, only about 200, and due to increased costs, taxes and so on, the prize now corresponds to something that used to cost around 100 M. But we don’t want to admit that to ourselves. According to the jewellers, every person commissioning a prize wants it to be as impressive, large and dazzling as possible, and so it can only be factory-made, mass-produced goods with no connection whatsoever to sport.
Would it not, in the end, be better to choose items that are smaller in size – as they say, ‘do not make such a big impression’ – but are greater in terms of taste and artistic value? Or one might dispense with silver altogether and opt for hand-crafted pieces in brass or pewter, perhaps modelled on old guild pieces, whose value lies in their beauty, or new designs that evoke a connection to water, wind and waves.
Let us set the major porcelain factories such tasks, as has long been the practice in Denmark. They will be grateful for the opportunity, will strive to do their very best, and will produce pieces which, when they travel abroad as trophies, will do credit to our German craftsmanship. Artistic faience is even cheaper than porcelain these days, affordable even for modestly funded internal competitions. ‘Kieler Kunstkeramik’ has produced exquisite pieces, though their main appeal lies in their colour. A special plate could be commissioned each year for Kiel Week, which could, for example, be distributed as a permanent addition to the challenge cups.
Indeed, every town should aspire to present visitors from afar with products of its local arts and crafts. At the time, the regatta organisers in Gdańsk-Sopot had commissioned replicas of their church’s magnificent brass treasures, in addition to the usual silverware, and were receptive to a request made prior to the prize-giving ceremony to award such a prize in place of the silver cup. The gentlemen said kindly: “It is important to us that you take away a memento from here that will give you lasting pleasure!”
This approach is worth emulating, as tastes do, after all, vary. The practical Danes take account of these differing tastes by allowing the winners to choose their prizes in order at their provincial regattas: first the winners of the top prizes, then those of the second prizes, and so on.
Artistic regatta prizes! Let us turn for a moment from arts and crafts to real art. It is the only thing that has become cheaper than it used to be, for art is the luxury that an impoverished people must deny themselves first. Our young artists are struggling to make ends meet and would be willing to ‘deliver in any price range required’. After all, a well-executed painting that is seen by many also means their name becomes known. After all, paintings and etchings of seascapes have often been given out as prizes. I would therefore like to make a bold suggestion – one whose implementation would require a certain degree of self-sacrifice on the part of the sponsoring club or the noble philanthropist: The prize looks very unassuming; it is a voucher entitling the winner to commission a picture – a watercolour or pen-and-ink drawing – of their vessel from a specific artist, an artist, of course, who is well-versed in sport and capable of rendering a boat in a portrait-like manner and with technical accuracy. In this case, it would not be a bad thing to win such a prize more than once. Does not a proud husband hang portraits of his beautiful wife in profile and also full-face? Wouldn’t the no less proud sailor be keen to own his beloved boat depicted from various angles – in stormy weather and calm, against the typical backdrop of the respective regatta course, or as a smart silhouette, or – very elegantly – as a badge? The possibilities are endless.
We therefore place this suggestion with confidence in the hands of the relevant individuals, namely the prize-awarding committees of our various clubs; then perhaps the gentleman with the 28 glass bowls – whose name I shall not reveal – might stand a chance next year of not winning another 28.
Would you like to have a browse through old issues of YACHT? You can find all issues from 1904 to 1981 in the digital yachting archive.
