Fay Bound-Alberti’s analysis of Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor as a “ghost behind glass” (From handsome prince to a ghost behind glass, Andrew’s face tells the story of his downfall, 20 February) finds a striking, if unintended, visual precedent in the work of Joan Miró. In 1974, the Catalan artist created Sa majesté le roi (His Majesty the King), a towering figure constructed not from the traditional marble or bronze of royal monuments, but from weathered wood, scrap iron, and found objects.
Miró’s “king” was a deliberate act of irony – a “royal” figure stripped of its finery to reveal the mundane, everyday materials beneath. The entire concept of hereditary monarchy relies on the myth that those of “royal blood” are inherently “other”, yet Miró’s work suggests that “majesty” is merely a hollow assembly. The recent photographs of a diminished Andrew represent the same “crashing down” of this concept. When the “handsome prince” is stripped of his symbolic armour, we are left with the raw, unpolished reality of a human being. Miró knew 50 years ago what the British public is only now seeing through a car window: that there is nothing “special” about the person behind the title – only the scrap materials of a common humanity.
Dr Lalith Chandrakantha
Northampton
• Is the Phil Noble who photographed Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor last week the same Phil Noble who took a wonderful picture at a Liverpool v Manchester United game in 1999? Michael Owen is shown holding his head after a missed chance, with two teammates and a terrace full of spectators doing the same thing. The Premier League named it photograph of the decade, and Mr Noble is a talented man.
Peter Lowthian
Marlow, Buckinghamshire
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