IT will cost you €15 to stare through the plate glass at the enigmatic face of the Mona Lisa at the Louvre. It’s the same price to peruse the Goyas and Velazquezes at the Prado in Madrid. Things are a bit steeper stateside at $25 for a browse of the Kandinskies, Magrittes and Chagalls at the Guggenheim. Just €12 to wander and wonder at the renaissance masterpieces in Florence’s Uffizi Gallery, and it’s a nice round €20 for the Dutch masters at the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam.

Of course, in the National Gallery, ­London you pay not a penny to enjoy Rubens, Titian, Canaletto, Monet, Turner or Caravaggio. In Kelvingrove there’s no ­entrance fee to marvel at Dali or ­Rembrandt. On The Mound in Edinburgh, our own ­National Gallery boasts John ­Singer Sargent, Raphael and Botticelli, free for all to enjoy.

For most of my life all of our national ­museums and galleries have been free. It is a political choice that has proven to ­attract more visitors while rightly putting public collections, in which we all have a stake, on public display.

Well, nothing in life is quite free. The biggest contributors by far to Scotland’s National Galleries are you and I: the ­taxpayer. The Scottish Government pops £30 million plus into the galleries pot in grant funding, comprising over 60% of its total annual income. By contrast, the self-generated revenue covers around 17% of requirements. More than a fifth of the revenue raised however comes from ­donations — and the lion’s share of that from big corporates, with deep pockets. We’re talking serious chunks of cash.

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Over the past three decades, energy giant BP has sponsored one of the most prestigious competitions in ­contemporary art: the BP Portrait Award. Open to ­anyone, the contest attracts around 2000 entries each year, and is one of the most democratic awards in the art world. On several occasions the winner has been a self-taught artist — catapulted into the limelight because of their own talent ­certainly, but also thanks to the robust financial backing which is required to make a success of a popular international event of this scale and stature.

In 2019 National Galleries Scotland severed ties with BP, announcing it would be the last year in which they would host the BP Portrait Awards. The association with big oil, they said, was “at odds” with calls for a greener future and their climate change responsibilities.

This week, Scottish Ballet and the ­National Portrait Gallery (the British ­version in this case) also said it’s game over for BP sponsorship, confirming they will not be renewing funding partnerships beyond 2022.

On the face of it this may seem all very well, all very good, all very noble, all very green. It is absolutely the case that our cultural institutions should take a stand, show leadership on issues of ethics and prove the courage of their convictions. Divestment and acts of disassociation by public institutions can be about protecting their own brand, but they can also help exert pressure to drive social change — think campaigns against big tobacco or to shame apartheid South Africa.

The purse strings may not always be held by pure, virtuous souls who will sign a seven-figure cheque out of the goodness of their hearts. It’s true that in the current UK climate, particularly post-COP26, few are making the arguments out loud and in favour of those whose core ­business is fossil fuels. A prominent exception to that rule is Aberdeen Art Gallery and ­Museums, recently revamped for £35m and re-opened with a huge chunk of that figure coming from BP. In Europe’s ­energy capital, the association between city gallery and major local employer barely elicits a shrug. The company is fairly upfront about it. The North Sea has been good to them over 50 years, the least they can do is give back to the community.

Amid the PR gloss from BP there is more than a grain of truth: “BP’s support for the arts in the UK has provided access to world-class events to millions of ­people. The increasing polarisation of debate, and attempts to excise companies committed to making real progress is exactly what is not needed. This global challenge [of energy transition] will need everyone — companies, governments and individuals — to work together to achieve a low carbon future”. And so in this dynamic, as is so often the case, there’s a balance to be struck between benefits and harms.

THE arts and their patrons have endured strained relationships since time immemorial. The violent Pope Julius II was the most important of Michelangelo’s backers, commissioning him to paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. The artist resented him for it, despised him even, going as far as to paint a subtle, cherubic “f*** you” to the pontiff into his magnum opus.

Money is more often than not a ­necessary bedfellow of the arts. In ­differentiating between what an ­institution considers “good” corporate sponsorship and “bad” they must beware the unintended consequences and mind the accusations of hypocrisy. The unease of artists and ­audiences is a consideration, but it’s not necessarily the be-all and end-all.

Our National Galleries should think hard about whether shunning an entire sector is the right approach, how proclamations to that effect interact with their values and what comfort a boycott adds versus the sponsorship benefits they stand to lose. What is the balance sheet reality of dismissing out of hand one of Scotland’s biggest industries and does turning down their cash make art more or less accessible? Are there better ways to bring about change?

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While few doubt that the global ­energy sector must indeed change, and raise its ambition in the pace and scale of ­transition to net zero, a huge part of that responsibility lies with governments ­driving the culture shift in consumer ­conditions. But in that mission, political leaders need the supermajors with the money and manpower to take the leap and invest their billions. It’s harder to achieve this with one hand of government, if the other hand is making pariahs out the ­energy sector — dirty oil, dirty money, dirty beyond redemption.

But when is symbolism just tokenism? Does washing our hands of BP and its like make a jot of difference in a wider push-pull dynamic of business ethics, or is the driver here really in salving some middle-class consciences? What is the cost in terms of risking private funding for the cultural sector as we enter a post-pandemic environment where health and recovery will demand the biggest slice of the public sector budget?

There may well be clean, green ­substitutes waiting in the wings to plug the gap. However, the National Galleries of Scotland lists Edinburgh investment powerhouse Baillie Gifford and big four accountants EY as their continuing major corporate supporters, both of whom have oil and gas interests on their books. One might legitimately ask, based on their own logic, why the producers of hydrocarbons are personae non gratae while their funders and bookkeepers are deemed acceptable. There is more than a whiff of elitist detachment to this supposed green trailblazing.

The ambition of recent decades, of free galleries, of leveraging the most out of ­public and private ­funding, has been ­widening access to art — ­democratising that world which can seem ­unapproachable at first but has unparalleled capacity to inspire, console and challenge us. In thew scramble to more ethically palatable we should beware of closing doors. The relationship between art and money will continue to be uneasy, but it will also be necessary.