A surprising show of cultural intent by the BBC

Almost all the arts programmes are of no interest to anyone actively interested in the arts

There's a certain relief in the air about the BBC's new Culture Show. Everything about it suggests a renewed sense of conviction about the BBC's coverage of the arts. The fact that it is going out at 7 pm on a Thursday night is very encouraging. The presenters are not, for once, mere "celebrities" dashing from gig to gig, but people with a proper interest and sometimes, as in Andrew Graham-Dixon's case, a proper expertise in the subject.

The arts are probably easier to cover on television than most people imagine; in the case of the visual arts, theatre and music, three quarters of the job is, or ought to be done by just sticking a camera in front of a painting, a play or a pianist for a reasonable length of time. If you add to that a bit of explanation from an expert, a conversation between intelligent critics, and maybe a bit of biography-lite, then really the job ought to be done.

The Culture Show seems rather over-excited for my taste. The magazine format throws up some intelligent comment, but avoids critical debate; it certainly runs the risk of turning, in time, into a bland tool of the PR industry. Nevertheless, it's a more varied diet than the old discussion programmes. Of course, such programmes will always be driven by this season's fashionable triviality, be obsessed with prizes and competitions, and be convinced that to put a work of art on the small screen, you have to have some accompanying music. But it does look, potentially, like a step forward.

Of course, that is not saying very much at all in the current circumstances. BBC television's coverage of the arts has, for some time, been a complete disgrace. Some excellent documentaries have been made for BBC4, where they reached a tiny audience, but on the main channels, the situation has been desperate.

The nadir - at least, I hope it was the nadir - has been reached with a series of programmes where Rolf Harris discusses the work of great painters. Now, whenever you dare to criticise Rolf Harris, someone somewhere will always call you a snob. But the problem with Mr Harris's programmes is not that he is populist or informal or vulgar - actually, the impression he rather gives is being remote and grand, chortling away like a brigadier. The problem is that he is, evidently, a monstrous egotist.

As a result, a programme which is billed as being about Botticelli or Cézanne turns out to be about Mr Harris, yet again, as he sets about painting a terrible pastiche of an old master and assures us, endlessly and unnecessarily, that "This is like nothing I've ever tried to do before." No, indeed. Why can't arts programmes find a presenter like Michael Palin, who is personally engaging and popular, but far more interested in the subjects of his travel programmes than in going on about himself?

Other brave but rather appalling assaults on the arts have yielded to the temptation to dramatise. There was one, just one effective drama-documentary on an arts subject recently; Nick Dear's Eroica film. Mr Dear is a good dramatist, and he respectfully included a complete performance of the "Eroica". Since then, it has all been downhill.

In former days, when you found yourself at Sunday teatime behind the sofa with your hands over your eyes, it was because of Doctor Who. A couple of weeks ago, it was probably a total monstrosity called Raphael, a low-budget epic of grapes on chargers and saucy wenches, notable for a scene in which Michelangelo tried to get off with Raphael. Hollywood, in its heyday, committed crimes on a larger scale, but nothing more vulgar in spirit.

The thinking behind all of this is that everything on television must be either a game show or a soap opera. Such drama-documentaries as Raphael are soap operas, made on the premise that Raphael is more interesting for his sex life than for The School of Athens. Mr Harris's programmes are a game show, in which he races against time to finish a self-portrait in the style of Rembrandt; The Big Read was a game show; and arts prizes, like the Booker or the Turner, which get decent coverage, can be made to look like game shows.

If a subject can't be slotted into one of the two formats, then you might as well forget about it. The result is that almost all of the arts programmes shown on the main BBC channels are of no interest to anyone actively interested in the arts, and if you say this, the BBC will tell you that of course, such programmes are not really meant for you, you snob. Arts programmes are, of course, meant for people who don't have any interest in or knowledge about the arts. A programme is made which the snobs won't want to watch; the non-snobs, who aren't interested in the arts, don't watch it either; and subsequently, it seems fairly obvious that nobody at all is interested in the arts because they didn't watch our programme.

Well, that fairly dismal situation means that, with a bit of caution, we ought to be enthusiastic about the prominence given to the new Culture Show, and what looks rather like a determination to treat the arts with some respect, at least. I dare say that in six months, it will be on at midnight on a Friday night, but it starts with good intentions. Before we greet it with too much enthusiasm, however, or start believing that it heralds a renaissance in BBC arts programming, something ought to be pointed out. Younger readers may have to be told that once upon a time, BBC2 had a critical discussion show which went out not once a week, but every night, called The Late Show. That was all of 10 years ago.