Princess Diana - AFP
A slow swoop of parkland laps gracefully against the grey-brick elevations of a house whose
origins stretch back to medieval times. Late August sunshine adds lustre to a scene already
rich in Arcadian grandeur: a scene unchanged since the time, twenty-odd years ago, that
Diana, Princess of Wales, last laid eyes on it. She rests there now, on an island in the Round
Oval lake. People come each year to visit and pay their respects, by the thousand. Or did.
Althorp shut its doors on Friday and when they reopen next spring virtually all trace of the
Spencers' best-loved daughter will have disappeared. The sandstone stable-block
which houses a standing memorial to the Princess will have returned to other uses,
the nearby cafe and shop closed and shuttered.
Remnants of that singular life, from the toys, schoolbooks and scrawled notes in
girlish hand down to the couture dresses she made famous, will have dispersed to
leave merely a stone temple bearing her name, and an elegant column marking
the place of her burial. Some historians would argue it's time to dispose of the Diana cult.
Today marks another anniversary of her tragic end in a sordid car-crash in a Parisian
tunnel, and though the echoes linger, it's time to put her memory to rest. You'd have a
hard time convincing the crowds at Althorp of that this week. Eager as ever to
touch the hem of the most famous woman in the world, they queued endlessly
and with eager anticipation to view the exhibit known as "Diana: A Celebration".
It is a moving event. Her school tuck-box, toy typewriter, ballet shoes, and
photo album all depict, with epic simplicity, the days before she was famous.
The items are chosen for maximum impact and touch the spectator quite unexpectedly
- even after all this time. Centre-stage stands the Emanuel wedding dress that left the
world gasping on July 29, 1981, its impact undiminished after three decades. At the
other end of five rooms of exhibits is one which visitors sometimes walk past without
noticing: a wall filled, floor to ceiling, with books. These are the hundreds of bound
volumes of condolence, collected by local authorities and other organisations in the
wake of the events of August 31, 1997.
They brim with signatures and messages. The sea of flowers outside Kensington
Palace may have died long ago but here remains the evidence, in innumerable
hands, of that outpouring of love and grief. This week, the car park at Althorp was
crammed. Charles, the ninth Earl Spencer, came out to mingle with the crowds and
to sign copies of the books he has sedulously written in the years since his sister's
death. One, a slim, silk-bound copy of the incendiary address he delivered at her
funeral, sells for 25 pounds.
If there weren't many takers for that, there were plenty of other mementoes on offer
and the tills rattled merrily. There was no hint that Althorp's Diana industry was about
to shut up shop for good. But it has. As the final coaches left the 15,000-acre estate
last night, the relics of Diana's life were being packed up in preparation for their return
to her sons, Prince William and Prince Harry.
First, they make a detour via America to earn their keep - but Britain, birthplace of England's
Rose, will see them no more. Among those most devoted to the memory of Diana, this
puzzling decision has raised a number of questions. Is it a determined attempt by Diana's
''blood family'', as Charles Spencer described it, to squash the Diana cult? It was in May
that the 49-year-old peer announced his exhibit "would close worldwide in August 2014",
explaining that under the terms of Diana's will her possessions must be returned to her
sons when the youngest, Harry, reaches his 30th birthday in September that year.
Diana fans read into Spencer's statement one last chance, next summer, to commune
with their goddess at Althorp; but staff at the Northamptonshire house privately confirmed
this week that plans for opening in 2014 do not include the Diana exhibit, that the
traditional opening months of July and August will be downgraded to weekends only
, and that ''we don't really know what else is happening, we haven't been given the
full picture".
This will be confusing and not a little upsetting for Diana fans. As recently as
September 2011 an Althorp spokesman, Caroline Dwyer, stated that ''a UK tour
[of the Diana exhibit] has never been ruled out and could happen in the future''.
At that juncture the terms and conditions of the princess's will were well-known to
the family. It seems remarkable, therefore, that the promise of a British tour could
be offered when it looks now as if there was never a chance of it happening. On the
face of it, this seems evidence of a hasty change of plan. Which begs the question -
did William and Harry suddenly call in their mother's things? And if so, why? One
possible answer lies in America, where for a number of years "A Celebration" has
been bused and trucked up and down the country, appearing at venues of varying
distinction from a shopping mall in Edmonton, Alberta, to a former railway station in
Kansas to a gambling casino and resort run by native Indians in Connecticut.
By the end of next month, "A Celebration" will be back in the US - housed in the Putnam
Museum in Davenport, Iowa (pop. 100,000). The town will celebrate its arrival with events
such as ''A Royal Affair'' and ''A Toast to Diana'', both sponsored by the Bling Bling Sisters,
a local costume jewellery store. These venues may not provide the historic backdrop of an
Althorp or Kensington Palace, but Spencer's supporters would argue it allows ordinary
Americans an access they would otherwise not have.
But the commercial exploitation of "A Celebration" (industry insiders put the box-office gross
over the years conservatively at pounds 25 million) and the fact that only a relatively small
percentage of the profits found its way to Diana's charities, has angered some - including,
it is said, William and Harry. So confusion, and not a little frustration, remains over these
last days of the Princess exhibit.
Did Diana really insist on the return of her possessions to her sons - or did the sons,
furious at their exploitation, call them in? Both sides will claim it's a private family matter
, but where there's a loyal following and an exhibition which the public pay to see, it's
legitimate to ask why the public are now to be denied access to this unique reflection
of her life. John Norman, then president of A&E, the Ohio-based business partner of
Lord Spencer, made it clear in 2011 that he believed his prestigious money-spinner
would continue indefinitely.
"As demonstrated from exhibition attendance, the public continues to embrace
Diana's legacy," he said. "We hope to continue touring the exhibition for as long
as possible." It was even stated that, though the Princess Diana Memorial Fund
closed its fundraising in 2012, her charities would continue to benefit from a sliver
of the box-office gross. Quite evidently, at that time there were no plans for closure.
But the clanging of Althorp's doors yesterday very definitely suggests that, for
William and Harry at least, the goose had laid one too many golden eggs.
After one last hoorah in America, at an as yet undisclosed venue, Diana's possessions
will be returned to Kensington Palace next September. It's unlikely they will be displayed
again for a very long time, for both Princes are devoted to the memory of their mother and
jealously guard her reputation.
The losers are a public which, as was only too evident at Althorp this week, still
passionately connect with that fragile and volatile deity, 16 years after her sad
demise. The person is no longer with us, but the cult of Diana is far from dead.
origins stretch back to medieval times. Late August sunshine adds lustre to a scene already
rich in Arcadian grandeur: a scene unchanged since the time, twenty-odd years ago, that
Diana, Princess of Wales, last laid eyes on it. She rests there now, on an island in the Round
Oval lake. People come each year to visit and pay their respects, by the thousand. Or did.
Althorp shut its doors on Friday and when they reopen next spring virtually all trace of the
Spencers' best-loved daughter will have disappeared. The sandstone stable-block
which houses a standing memorial to the Princess will have returned to other uses,
the nearby cafe and shop closed and shuttered.
Remnants of that singular life, from the toys, schoolbooks and scrawled notes in
girlish hand down to the couture dresses she made famous, will have dispersed to
leave merely a stone temple bearing her name, and an elegant column marking
the place of her burial. Some historians would argue it's time to dispose of the Diana cult.
Today marks another anniversary of her tragic end in a sordid car-crash in a Parisian
tunnel, and though the echoes linger, it's time to put her memory to rest. You'd have a
hard time convincing the crowds at Althorp of that this week. Eager as ever to
touch the hem of the most famous woman in the world, they queued endlessly
and with eager anticipation to view the exhibit known as "Diana: A Celebration".
It is a moving event. Her school tuck-box, toy typewriter, ballet shoes, and
photo album all depict, with epic simplicity, the days before she was famous.
The items are chosen for maximum impact and touch the spectator quite unexpectedly
- even after all this time. Centre-stage stands the Emanuel wedding dress that left the
world gasping on July 29, 1981, its impact undiminished after three decades. At the
other end of five rooms of exhibits is one which visitors sometimes walk past without
noticing: a wall filled, floor to ceiling, with books. These are the hundreds of bound
volumes of condolence, collected by local authorities and other organisations in the
wake of the events of August 31, 1997.
They brim with signatures and messages. The sea of flowers outside Kensington
Palace may have died long ago but here remains the evidence, in innumerable
hands, of that outpouring of love and grief. This week, the car park at Althorp was
crammed. Charles, the ninth Earl Spencer, came out to mingle with the crowds and
to sign copies of the books he has sedulously written in the years since his sister's
death. One, a slim, silk-bound copy of the incendiary address he delivered at her
funeral, sells for 25 pounds.
If there weren't many takers for that, there were plenty of other mementoes on offer
and the tills rattled merrily. There was no hint that Althorp's Diana industry was about
to shut up shop for good. But it has. As the final coaches left the 15,000-acre estate
last night, the relics of Diana's life were being packed up in preparation for their return
to her sons, Prince William and Prince Harry.
First, they make a detour via America to earn their keep - but Britain, birthplace of England's
Rose, will see them no more. Among those most devoted to the memory of Diana, this
puzzling decision has raised a number of questions. Is it a determined attempt by Diana's
''blood family'', as Charles Spencer described it, to squash the Diana cult? It was in May
that the 49-year-old peer announced his exhibit "would close worldwide in August 2014",
explaining that under the terms of Diana's will her possessions must be returned to her
sons when the youngest, Harry, reaches his 30th birthday in September that year.
Diana fans read into Spencer's statement one last chance, next summer, to commune
with their goddess at Althorp; but staff at the Northamptonshire house privately confirmed
this week that plans for opening in 2014 do not include the Diana exhibit, that the
traditional opening months of July and August will be downgraded to weekends only
, and that ''we don't really know what else is happening, we haven't been given the
full picture".
This will be confusing and not a little upsetting for Diana fans. As recently as
September 2011 an Althorp spokesman, Caroline Dwyer, stated that ''a UK tour
[of the Diana exhibit] has never been ruled out and could happen in the future''.
At that juncture the terms and conditions of the princess's will were well-known to
the family. It seems remarkable, therefore, that the promise of a British tour could
be offered when it looks now as if there was never a chance of it happening. On the
face of it, this seems evidence of a hasty change of plan. Which begs the question -
did William and Harry suddenly call in their mother's things? And if so, why? One
possible answer lies in America, where for a number of years "A Celebration" has
been bused and trucked up and down the country, appearing at venues of varying
distinction from a shopping mall in Edmonton, Alberta, to a former railway station in
Kansas to a gambling casino and resort run by native Indians in Connecticut.
By the end of next month, "A Celebration" will be back in the US - housed in the Putnam
Museum in Davenport, Iowa (pop. 100,000). The town will celebrate its arrival with events
such as ''A Royal Affair'' and ''A Toast to Diana'', both sponsored by the Bling Bling Sisters,
a local costume jewellery store. These venues may not provide the historic backdrop of an
Althorp or Kensington Palace, but Spencer's supporters would argue it allows ordinary
Americans an access they would otherwise not have.
But the commercial exploitation of "A Celebration" (industry insiders put the box-office gross
over the years conservatively at pounds 25 million) and the fact that only a relatively small
percentage of the profits found its way to Diana's charities, has angered some - including,
it is said, William and Harry. So confusion, and not a little frustration, remains over these
last days of the Princess exhibit.
Did Diana really insist on the return of her possessions to her sons - or did the sons,
furious at their exploitation, call them in? Both sides will claim it's a private family matter
, but where there's a loyal following and an exhibition which the public pay to see, it's
legitimate to ask why the public are now to be denied access to this unique reflection
of her life. John Norman, then president of A&E, the Ohio-based business partner of
Lord Spencer, made it clear in 2011 that he believed his prestigious money-spinner
would continue indefinitely.
"As demonstrated from exhibition attendance, the public continues to embrace
Diana's legacy," he said. "We hope to continue touring the exhibition for as long
as possible." It was even stated that, though the Princess Diana Memorial Fund
closed its fundraising in 2012, her charities would continue to benefit from a sliver
of the box-office gross. Quite evidently, at that time there were no plans for closure.
But the clanging of Althorp's doors yesterday very definitely suggests that, for
William and Harry at least, the goose had laid one too many golden eggs.
After one last hoorah in America, at an as yet undisclosed venue, Diana's possessions
will be returned to Kensington Palace next September. It's unlikely they will be displayed
again for a very long time, for both Princes are devoted to the memory of their mother and
jealously guard her reputation.
The losers are a public which, as was only too evident at Althorp this week, still
passionately connect with that fragile and volatile deity, 16 years after her sad
demise. The person is no longer with us, but the cult of Diana is far from dead.
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