Three cheers for the avant-garde steak holders

The Agreeable World of Wallace Arnold

Hats off to Mrs Bottomley this week for promising the fullest subsidies to the avant-garde! Such an opinion may surprise my numerous readers. Pray allow me to expand.

I have long had the greatest of respect for Mr Charles Saatchi. His most impressive collection of objets d'art (dread phrase!) is testament to his grasp of practical economics. I first approached him on behalf of a client to help penetrate the youth market for a particular brand of cigarettes. I will never forget that very first meeting. My own good self and my client were ushered into Charles Saatchi's magnificent reception room. We were offered a choice of warm beverages to while away the time before Charles became available. Needless to say, my eyes were caught by some of the striking examples of modern art on the walls around us.

The first canvas, a no-holds-barred portrait in the modern manner by Mr Lucian Freud, was particularly memorable. It showed Mr Saatchi himself, naked but for a glace cherry over one eye, his bottom perched upon a peculiarly prickly-looking cactus, arms akimbo, legs twisted hither and thither in a pose which must have required enormous strength of character to sustain. I found myself groping for words.

"Most ... striking," I said to my client, the tobacco king.

"Worth two, three, four hundred grand," he replied, his voice choking with such emotion as only the highest art can induce. A wave of admiration for Mr Saatchi's dynamic new avant-garde swept across me like a wave.

My eyes then rushed to the next exhibit on display. It was, the bronze plaque informed us, an early Damien Hirst, from a time when that thrillingly-priced young artist was still finding his feet. It consisted of a piece of steak, well done, on a plate, sans french fries. It was only later that Hirst realised the art world preferred its meat underdone. To be frank, I entertained doubts about this particular work, but when my client informed me that it was now very much a collector's item, market value pounds 50,000, I found myself instantly converted.

Next to the well-done steak was a portrait of my old friend Lord Archer by Messrs Gilbert and George. It was painted, the plaque informed us, in the artists' very own excrement, a tax-deductible method which, at that time, was all the rage. Looking down at the price-tag, I couldn't help but notice a six-figure sum. "That's certainly not to be sniffed at," I enthused. "One can almost smell that suit Lord Archer is wearing. Most lifelike!"

At that point, Mr Saatchi's secretary informed us the great man was ready to receive us. We were ushered through to his private office. We found him posing for another portrait, sitting waist-deep in a bath of black oil, a sign saying "MORON" perched daintily upon his head. "Come in, come in!" he bellowed, introducing us to the artist, a Mr Turk. My tobacco colleague later estimated that by the end of the year the portrait would be valued at pounds 65,000, and that by commissioning, modelling, purchasing, exhibiting and then selling the portrait himself, Charles had effectively cut out the middle man.

Of course, the drippier type of wishy-washy Liberal will hold up his arms in horror at such a remunerative operation. But those of us who continue to value sound monetarist theory know only too well that the highest form of endeavour is successfully to market a low-priced, rejected or waste product - a dirty wash-basin, say, or a lump of meat - as a highly prized consumer durable. All praise to Charles Saatchi, then, for pulling off this most Friedmanesque of tricks!

But from the moment she met Charles Saatchi, Lady Thatcher was the greatest supporter of the avant-garde. The Saatchi economic cycle rewards close scrutiny. Stage One: Charles wittily ("Labour Isn't Working") engineered a Tory victory, Stage Two: he bought heavily into bright young artists who devoted their energies to decrying the "ruinous" (!) policies of the Tory government. Stage Three: as a result of his sponsorship the artists became highly sought-after, and Charles grew ever richer. Bob's your uncle! And his latest acquisition? An installation of a cancerous lung - a most powerful indictment of the international tobacco industry, and all sponsored by the profits of our highly successful tobacco penetration! Bravo Saatchi! Bravo, Bottomley! Bravo, Avant Garde!