National Portrait Gallery adds Dame Kelly Holmes to its contemporary idols

Dame Kelly joins the "heroes" in the NPG's range of celebrities.

A portrait of Dame Kelly Holmes is the latest addition to the National Portrait Gallery as part of the BP Portrait award competition. The large-scale oil painting joins such important figures in the NPG's Contemporary Collection as footballer Bobby Charlton and the UK's "favourite"  billionare, Sir Richard Branson. Glancing over the portraits in the Contemporary rooms of the NPG, I'd say that, aesthetically, they have a lot to offer. The variation in styles begins to be somewhat overwhelming, however, leaving one skimming over pieces with less initial impact, such as John Swannell's photo portrait of Princess Diana with her sons (which at first glance I presumed to be a promotional shot from a 1970s family sitcom). Excluding this happy accident of a photo, most of the paintings could belong in any wing of the Tate Modern; some are so obscure that it seems the artists just decided to paint something  in their characteristic style, the famous figures depicted being mere quirks that made the pictures noteworthy enough to get into the NPG. The portrait of Holmesis one of the exceptions in its initial straightforwardness, though she looks so remarkably sad one would guess she had had her two Olympic gold medals revoked. In fact, there is no allusion to her sporting career at all.

But it does leave us questioning the kinds of people our society chooses as role models. Why is it that we value these people? If their fame is celebrated in the form of a portrait, why are the reasons for their being celebrated so often left out of the picture? This is perhaps less surprising in the case of some of the well-known actors portrayed, such as Alan Rickman and Helen Mirren. Perhaps they've reached the stage when they're famous for being famous, like the disreputable Kardashians or the wretched Jade Goody? We see faces such as those of Sir Roy Calne, surgeon extraordinaire, scientist Robert Winston and Body Shop founder and human rights activist Dame Anita Roddick, who have contributed to society in a slightly more productive way. But they are a lonely few in a sea of tabloid-worthy celebrities.

Kelly Holmes and J K Rowling are Orwellian Big Brothers,  inspiration to the proles to make something, anything, of their lives. Congratulations to Dame Kelly for joining the ranks of 16th-century kings and 20th-century singers. Let's hope it motivates the lazy nobodies to get out and climb the ladder so high they're forced to cover their faces in public.

Dame Kelly's portrait will appear alongside Britain's favourite celebrities, including the Queen. Photograph: Andrew Cowie/AFP/GettyImages
Photo: Getty Images
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The buck doesn't stop with Grant Shapps - and probably shouldn't stop with Lord Feldman, either

The question of "who knew what, and when?" shouldn't stop with the Conservative peer.

If Grant Shapps’ enforced resignation as a minister was intended to draw a line under the Mark Clarke affair, it has had the reverse effect. Attention is now shifting to Lord Feldman, who was joint chair during Shapps’  tenure at the top of CCHQ.  It is not just the allegations of sexual harrassment, bullying, and extortion against Mark Clarke, but the question of who knew what, and when.

Although Shapps’ resignation letter says that “the buck” stops with him, his allies are privately furious at his de facto sacking, and they are pointing the finger at Feldman. They point out that not only was Feldman the senior partner on paper, but when the rewards for the unexpected election victory were handed out, it was Feldman who was held up as the key man, while Shapps was given what they see as a relatively lowly position in the Department for International Development.  Yet Feldman is still in post while Shapps was effectively forced out by David Cameron. Once again, says one, “the PM’s mates are protected, the rest of us shafted”.

As Simon Walters reports in this morning’s Mail on Sunday, the focus is turning onto Feldman, while Paul Goodman, the editor of the influential grassroots website ConservativeHome has piled further pressure on the peer by calling for him to go.

But even Feldman’s resignation is unlikely to be the end of the matter. Although the scope of the allegations against Clarke were unknown to many, questions about his behaviour were widespread, and fears about the conduct of elections in the party’s youth wing are also longstanding. Shortly after the 2010 election, Conservative student activists told me they’d cheered when Sadiq Khan defeated Clarke in Tooting, while a group of Conservative staffers were said to be part of the “Six per cent club” – they wanted a swing big enough for a Tory majority, but too small for Clarke to win his seat. The viciousness of Conservative Future’s internal elections is sufficiently well-known, meanwhile, to be a repeated refrain among defenders of the notoriously opaque democratic process in Labour Students, with supporters of a one member one vote system asked if they would risk elections as vicious as those in their Tory equivalent.

Just as it seems unlikely that Feldman remained ignorant of allegations against Clarke if Shapps knew, it feels untenable to argue that Clarke’s defeat could be cheered by both student Conservatives and Tory staffers and the unpleasantness of the party’s internal election sufficiently well-known by its opponents, without coming across the desk of Conservative politicians above even the chair of CCHQ’s paygrade.

Stephen Bush is editor of the Staggers, the New Statesman’s political blog.