An official tribute to the late, much-missed Queen Elizabeth II will, in years to come, be unveiled in London’s St James’s Park. But progress on the memorial is far from speedy. The design of the statue or sculpture will not be revealed by the Queen Elizabeth Memorial Committee until 2026. Even then, there is every chance that something dreadfully inappropriate or misjudged will end up being chosen. After all, memorial statues have the potential to go hideously wrong, as the latest example – a sculpture of the late Queen, Prince Philip and two corgis – recently unveiled in Antrim County Gardens in Belfast, has so unfortunately demonstrated.
Its sculptor Anthony ‘Anto’ Brennan has had a successful career designing artworks that reflect the political world of his native Northern Ireland. For £450, you can purchase a chess set based on the Good Friday Agreement, complete with grinning caricatures of Mo Mowlam, Ian Paisley et al. One figure depicted on this chess board is an especially strange caricature of the late Queen, with goofily outsized teeth and a vacant expression. Somehow, Brennan’s depiction of her appears to have qualified him to earn a commission last year to design a bronze sculpture of the Royal couple and their dogs. The result has been a strange, rather disturbing depiction of Elizabeth and Philip that manages the impressive feat of looking nothing like either of them.
Elizabeth is shown looking jaunty, clad in a headscarf and with her beloved dogs at her feet; Philip, standing a step behind her, looks doleful and downcast, as well he might. The corgis, at least, seem true to life, but Brennan’s sculpture looks more like a well-to-do Northern Irish couple popping out for a shopping trip than it does a serious representation of the Queen and her husband.
As an artwork, it is unremarkable; as a depiction of a much-beloved national figure, it is a travesty that everyone involved should be deeply ashamed of. However, judging by the response of the deputy mayor of Antrim and Newtonabbey Paul Dunlop, there is to be no such contrition. ‘It’s down to personal taste,’ Dunlop said, ‘everyone has their own opinion but it is what the sculpture represents that is important.’
Those who have seen the memorial are far from impressed. One visitor tactfully remarked: ‘The dogs and Prince Philip look nice, but the Queen, it doesn’t look like her’. Councillor Vera McWilliam was more accurate when she informed the BBC that: ‘We have to be honest, it does not resemble the Queen in any shape or form.’
The sculpture has the misfortune to follow the more acclaimed depiction of the late monarch by the sculptor Hywel Pratley, which was unveiled in Oakham, Rutland earlier this year and became the first permanent monument to Elizabeth II. Although Pratley’s artwork was considerably more lifelike and respectful than the Antrim monument, the crowd of hundreds who turned out to see its unveiling did so less from reasons of patriotism and more because, as one onlooker remarked, ‘Nothing really happens much in Rutland so it’s quite nice to have a big celebration.’
Brennan’s dismal sculpture will be ridiculed and then forgotten, another ill-intentioned public piece of artwork that has failed to do its job. However, it makes it all the more vital that the official sculpture of the late Queen manages to both inspire and impress, and serve as a lasting tribute to her. If it ends up being another expensive disaster, it will be a damning judgement both on the contemporary art world, and also on the small-minded bureaucrats who commissioned it. Fingers crossed that someone of genuine vision and talent can get it right and give her the lasting remembrance that she deserved.