Reading Museum is to be congratulated for staging this exhibition. It is worth reflecting that only a stone's throw from the museum, on the facade of St Lawrence's church, a number of empty plinths testify to the sometimes uneasy relationship between Britain and the plastic arts. In the 16th century the dissolution of the monasteries had led to a savage distrust of images, and by the time of Edward VI sculptures were being smashed, and rich interiors whitewashed, all over England. Art was considered by the Church to be a dangerous distraction from the teaching of the Bible as dispensed from the pulpit. Later the visual arts also had to compete with our exceptionally strong literary tradition. It was only in the 18th Century that artists found a new lease of life by meeting the demand for portraiture and landscape paintings which emerged from the landed gentry. People wanted to be recorded for posterity, and often in a way that linked them to the classical world. And it was this hankering after Renaissance and Classical ideals which was to influence the teaching of art well into the Victorian period. Aspiring painters first had to learn to draw - and render light and shade - with only plaster casts as their subjects. Only then could they expect to move on to life models, and the tools and techniques of painting. If visitors walk around this exhibition chronologically I think they will be rewarded by reflecting how the relationship between teacher and student has changed over the last 150 years, and also how the art school has helped shape the town's cultural identity.

The story of Reading School of Art began with the Government school which opened in 1860. Its curriculum centred on draughtsmanship, craft, architecture, and art history. The plaster casts from the British Museum - a Horse's head from the Parthenon, and an Assyrian hunting scene - also indicate the extent to which the school was aligned with other larger institutions such as the Royal Academy. The examination works by Robert Blake Poynder are typical of the period, and his graphite 'Drawing from cast' is particularly fine. Interestingly it reminded me of the study of a torso by the young Pablo Picasso that would be produced a couple of years later. In a display case nearby the handwritten notebooks of Henry Dawson Barkas (headmaster 1889-97) reveal his thoughts on colour theory and composition. No doubt he elaborated upon these concepts during class, yet his two watercolours 'Littlehampton' and 'Sandown' show he could himself apply this knowledge effectively to convey a sense of place and mood. The combination of notebooks alongside teacher's own work creates the sense of lecturers proud seeking to impart their technical knowledge from generation to generation. Moving into the 20th century other works of this ilk which stood out to me are 'Smoke of the fishing fleet, Boulogne' by Walter Bayes; 'Tomb of Tutankamen' by Allen W Seaby, and the fabulous woodcuts by Robert Gibbings: 'A Bird Diary' and 'A true tale of love in Tonga'.

The influence of Modernism becomes apparent in works between the wars, for example the strongly Vorticist 'Sleeping girl' by William McCance. British art was on the move and ready to take on the predominantly French avant-garde. Figures as Roger Fry, Clive Bell and other Bloomsbury luminaries led the charge, and did much to assign a contemporary relevance to the arts. By 1937, under Professor Anthony Betts, the Honours degree in Fine Arts was introduced at Reading, and by the time Claude Rodgers becomes professor in 1963 the old world of plaster casts and the constraints of tradition had become anathema to tutors and students alike. Now the role of the lecturer was less formal, and the knowledge imparted more subtle. Students were to be mentored rather than learn and duplicate the lessons of the masters. Artists such as Terry Frost and Tom Cross came to lecture, and no doubt shaped by their own experiences as students at Camberwell and the Slade, afforded students direct contact with contemporary art practice. Frost was a well connected with the St Ives school, particularly Hepworth, and as anyone who met him will know, was a lively character who put much energy into his teaching. The screen prints on show here are representative of his output during his time at Reading.

At this point I must say I very much regret there is no mention of Adrian Heath who ran the post-graduate course from 1980-1985. Heath was already an artist when he met Terry Frost in prisoner of war camp and taught him to paint. He also encouraged him to attend Camberwell School of Art post-war. He was well connected with all that what going on in London artistically during the 50s and 60s and was close to Victor Pasmore and the British constructivists, Anthony Hill, and Kenneth and Mary Martin. Through his early links to Newlyn and St Ives he also got to interact Nicholson and other members of the Penwith Society. Heath went on to exhibit internationally, and in his lifetime saw his contribution to post-war abstract art acknowledged by the Tate and British Museum. Nevertheless he took his teaching posts very seriously, never finding the fame Frost went on to enjoy. I was a post-graduate student during his time at Reading, and afterwards enjoyed further years of advice and support. I know the exhibition notes emphasised the show could not be comprehensive, yet in terms of his influence upon Frost, and his reputation as both a teacher and artist, I do think he deserved a mention.

The other works on show contemporary with Frost and Cross: Chris Gear's 'Eye-trap', Jean Spencer's 'White Relief', and Alan Plummer's '150 IV' in my opinion suffer from being hung far to closely together, and far too high. Something I also felt to be the case with Martin Froy's 'Kitchen Interior'. Just to the right of this unfortunate hotchpotch I enjoyed the slide show which, via 80 slides, does an excellent job of conveying the diversity of art practice which exploded in the schools during the 60s and 70s. Photographs nearby also show tutors and pupils interacting in a way that would have been unthinkable under Barkas or Betts. I particularly liked the photograph of Mark Camille Chaimowicz pausing to light up a cigarette while talking to a student. Regarding the most recent exhibits those which drew my attention were 'Horizon' by Stephen Buckley (Professor 1994-2009), 'What Lobster?' by Patrick Brill, and 'Venus and Mars - blood light, the ebbing tide'. After pausing to wonder whatever happened to Patrick Brill (he'd been one of those students you felt might go on), I came to the conclusion that whereas the pressures of upon a 19th century student of art had been primarily technical, about achieving a level of competence, for the contemporary art student there is often an enormous pressure to be profound. This pressure comes predominantly from peers, but can also regretfully proceed from tutors too, and make the environment seem more like a hot-house than a place where one has come to learn. But this is not a case of 'old-school good' versus 'new-school bad'. Consider how stifling, and at times terminally destructive to expression, a tightly imposed method must have been.  Of course a good tutor will consider whether the student has enough life experience under their belt to make any major statement possible, and these are only cited as polar extremes which any art school should look out for. This show reveals a healthy degree of experimentation and risk-taking, in the both the tutoring and the work produced, throughout the school's history. This is to the lasting credit of the tutors and students involved. Out there tonight, scattered like stars, artists are creating - and disturbing the status quo - thanks to their efforts.