'STANDING at any time before the Wilton Diptych' is one of the experiences cited by Patrick Cormack M.P., the Chairman of the Heritage Co-ordination Group, to define that nebulous, and increasingly sinister, term 'Heritage'. Medieval moments figure large in such evocations, and the Age of Chivalry exhibition at the Royal Academy, celebrated in this issue, has inevitably been greeted with a 'Heritage' response. The 'international' character of the Wilton Diptych itself- which 'has been attributed to every possible nation', as noted in the catalogue, is listed in the French school at the National Gallery, and is looking increasingly Bohemian these days -- illustrates the absurdity of enlisting art in the cause of chauvinism.

The Wilton Diptych is not in fact present among the over 600 exhibits of this superb show. It is hard not to regret its absence, while honouring the reasons for which it was refused. Without it Richard II's patronage seems rather meagrely represented. As the focus of a final room it would have gathered up the strands of the later fourteenth century, as well as demonstrating the problems of 'International Gothic' as a stylistic label. Similarly, it would have been marvellous to see the Musée de Cluny Life of the Virgin altar-frontal alongside the Thornham Parva Retable (No.564), as it has recently been demonstrated that they formed part of the same ensemble. Is it possible for conservationists to state clear principles about whether and how panel paintings should travel? Obviously the Westminster Retable in its present state could not have been sent even the short distance from the Abbey to Burlington House, to amplify the thin representation of that most chivalric patron, Edward I. Paul Binski's article in this issue (p.128) demonstrates the frightening deterioration of the Retable since 1897. The conservation of this unique object is a matter of the utmost urgency.

Many of the sculptures on show have been recently restored - some so recently that they are reproduced in dirty state in the catalogue. Catalogue discussion of conservation, however, tends to be confined to sculpture now held in museums, such as the beautiful Sawley angels (Nos.341-42), or the Sutton Valence altar-piece (No.698), where a lengthy campaign has not only transformed the surface of the stone, but has also removed the literally grotesque additions of nineteenth-century restoration (Figs.2 and 3). Nor are issues of conservation brought to the fore in the catalogue essays, though they will be the subject of the first day of the symposium at the Royal Academy on 18th February. (It is hard to agree with the statement in Thomas Cocke's excellent essay on 'The Appreciation of the Gothic' that 'Morris's philosophy of restoration is now generally accepted'). The public, and even non-medievalist art historians, have little idea of the problems involved in, and the passions aroused by, the conservation of sculpture on English cathedral façades. The bland entries on Wells do not reveal that the problems of whether to use 'traditional' lime-wash methods or synthetic resins, whether sculpture should be left in the open or brought inside, at least until pollution decreases, are unresolved. Policies vary wildly from cathedral to cathedral, and the situation is exacerbated by the lack of a central body with power to direct conservation. It is encouraging, however, that the Dean and Chapter of Lincoln have organised an international symposium this summer to debate the conservation of the romanesque frieze on the west front, and whether it should be brought under cover.

It must be conceded that one casualty of the exhibition as finally installed is the presentation of gothic architecture. The elegance of Paul Williams's installation (Fig. 1), often cleverly picking up the few gothic elements in the Academy's rooms, is no substitute for a real sense of the architectural context. Exhibition designers are notoriously hostile to photographic panels, and those in the exhibition seem almost deliberately faded into invisibility. The audio-visual - one of the most sophisticated and beautifully photographed three-screen slide shows seen in a British exhibition - succeeds in a brief panoramic evocation of medieval buildings, but has no time to develop the themes explored so ably in the catalogue essays. In other respects the exhibition lives up magnificently to Jonathan Alexander's aim to be 'both popular and didactic', against some of the obstacles described in Professor Sauerlinder's review (p.149). Perhaps the most successful thematic room of all is that devoted to 'Artists' materials and techniques', where every single point is made with an object of great beauty or rarity. 

Our special issue is consciously pluralistic in approach. Most art-historical methods currently espoused, from the minutest scrutiny of objects to the most theoretical discussion, may be found in these unprecedently numerous pages. While it is heartening to discover that medieval art history is in an exciting state of transition (see p.149), it is sobering to record that its study is in crisis in British universities. Of the British contributors to this issue, over half, including our guest editor, Jonathan Alexander, have been driven to look for academic posts or fellowships in the United States. Will the Age of Chivalry be remembered as the last gasp of medieval art history in this country?   

We are enormously grateful to those whose generosity has made extra pages and colour reproduction possible: to the Paul Mellon Centre for Studies in British Art, to Lloyds Bank plc, the sponsors of the exhibition, and to J. Paul Getty Jr, K.B.E. We should also like to thank the R.A. Press Office, the Guardian, Paul Williamson of the V. & A. and Christopher de Hamel of Sotheby's for cheerfully meeting last-minute requests for photographs.