There is a once-notable aspect of our culture that has reached a dead end, apparently for reasons of naked cynicism. I refer to the subjects of what are now called by Royal Mail, without humour, our special stamp issues. This absurd programme presents second-rate designs highlighting populist trash in the interests of relieving children of their pocket money, all while devaluing philately as an art form. It shreds an opportunity to put intelligence, beauty and history into the hands of anyone who sticks a stamp on a letter.
A look at the commemorative (as they were once called) stamps from a decade ago shows starkly how things have deteriorated. Two of the 11 issues of 2013 were overtly populist: a set marking 50 years of Doctor Who and one celebrating great footballers. The rest were related to more enduring aspects of British life and high culture: the architecture and motive power of the London Underground; Jane Austen; Royal Portraits; Butterflies; the Merchant Navy; Dinosaurs; and Christmas. Many were educational and informative; some, notably the Underground set and Butterflies, were exemplary in their design and execution.
The first special issue this year marked the apparently massive aesthetic achievement of Iron Maiden (a popular heavy metal band, m’lud). Coming up next is X-Men, an American “superhero” franchise – something with no connection to British life other than vast numbers of young people watch the films. Over the following two months there are four sets, but at least they are fitting subjects: The Flying Scotsman; Flowers; Robin Hood; and the Coronation. Then we are back to crowd pleasers, with Blackadder and Warhammer, and, ahead of Christmas, Terry Pratchett’s Discworld, Shirley Bassey and Harry Potter.
The design often requires nothing except the use of images acquired under a franchise deal, or the reproduction of photographs. For heaven’s sake, these things used to be works of art. I suppose I am amused that Dame Shirley gets a stamp, partly because no one under 60 has probably heard of her, and partly because Royal Mail could not find room last year to commemorate the 150th birthday of Vaughan Williams, without question one of the three or four greatest musicians this country has ever produced. (Nor, incidentally, could it be bothered to mark the centenary of the BBC – which is, whatever you think of it, a great national institution.) But then Royal Mail now churns out Mickey Mouse stamps as if it is the postal service of some avaricious banana republic, not of a supposedly serious country.
The late Queen used to take a close interest in the stamps bearing her head. Our new King cares profoundly about design and aesthetic excellence; I hope he will put a stop to this nonsense once and for all, and exercise his veto on the garbage. Next year is the centenary of the first ever commemorative stamp: an appropriate moment to wipe the slate clean, and start again properly.
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