From Artlaw to Artist's Resale Right: Henry Lydiate on the fight for artists’ rights in the UK

This year marks 20 years since the Artist’s Resale Right (ARR) came into force in the UK. As part of our anniversary reflections, DACS is looking back at the decades of advocacy, legal innovation and artist‑led organising that laid the groundwork long before ARR reached Parliament.

Few people reflect that history as clearly as Henry Lydiate. A barrister and art lawyer, his early work and long‑standing commitment to supporting artists played a key role in the creation of DACS. From the 1970s onwards, Lydiate was a strong advocate for artists’ rights, including ARR, and helped build the case for its adoption in the UK. In this interview, he looks back on the roots of that work and the political and cultural influences that shaped the UK’s approach to recognising artists’ economic rights.

When did you first hear about Artist’s Resale Right (ARR) and realise it was something that mattered for the UK?

I first heard about ARR in 1978, when Claude Picasso came to see me shortly after I launched Artlaw - a not‑for‑profit legal advice service I’d set up because artists had virtually no access to specialist legal support at the time.

We were looking mainly at UK copyright and contract issues. Claude had just taken responsibility for administering his recently deceased father’s estate, and he quickly realised that Picasso’s work was being heavily exploited in the UK and the US.

France already had a collecting society called SPADEM (now ADAGP), and Claude wanted a similar mechanism to protect artists’ rights here in the UK. That initial meeting was the spark. That was the moment I first became aware of Artist’s Resale Right, and I remember thinking this is exactly what artists in the UK need.

How did those early discussions lead to the eventual creation of DACS?

It wasn’t straightforward. We made a few attempts to create an organisation before DACS, one called the Visual Artists Rights Society (VARS) but that didn’t work out. Meanwhile Artlaw Services was operating like a law centre for artists, with volunteer lawyers providing free legal advice.

Margaret Thatcher’s early 1980s cuts to public expenditure effectively brought Artlaw Services to an end. We were entirely funded by the Arts Council, and by 1982–83 they announced it would no longer support service organisations in the arts, only major institutions. Funding was annual then, so there was no security. In February we received a letter saying our money would stop on 1 April and we were stunned.

We had around 2,000 live cases and a small core team. Adrian Barr‑Smith as director, with Roslyn Innocent, Mark Stephens, and myself running the Artlaw clinic with 30 or so volunteer lawyers. The Arts Council suggested we start charging artists, which went completely against our purpose; most artists simply could not afford fees. We decided it was better to close than compromise.

Out of desperation we even rang the Law Society and asked what a collapsing legal practice would do who had ongoing cases. They told us to contact every client and either return their file or transfer it elsewhere. So that’s what we prepared to do.

In discussing this as a team, Mark and Ros suggested setting up a new specialist firm and that was the beginning of Stephens Innocent, the country’s first art‑law firm.

And the rest is history. We’d learned the hard way that we couldn’t rely on public funding anymore, so we said, ‘Right, we’ll run the new operation out of Stephens Innocent’s offices,’ but the only space going was this broom cupboard. DACS’ first office was literally a broom cupboard. Artlaw’s administrator, Janet Tod moved in and ran it from there, which, in its own funny way, worked perfectly.

While Artlaw Services had folded, DACS now existed and then the artists started joining, people like Richard Hamilton, Eduardo Paolozzi, Joe Tilson and even Picasso. That was the beginning, a tiny broom cupboard that somehow held the start of something much bigger.

How would you describe the political climate around ARR at the time?

In the 1980s, there was zero appetite in government for ARR. Thatcher’s administration had no interest in cultural policy that wasn’t commercially driven. Funding cuts made that clear.

The art trade was strongly opposed to the Artist’s Resale Right as well; we’d get letters of objection practically every month.

Only one London dealer, René Gimpel, supported artists’ rights openly. He was my ‘secret weapon,’ urging fellow dealers to think differently. Being French, he ‘got’ ARR instinctively because he understood the French model.

The turning point came in the early ’90s when John Major took over from Thatcher and the UK signed the Maastricht Treaty in 1992. Without it, ARR would not have happened in the UK. It fundamentally changed our legal landscape by requiring alignment with EU IP frameworks. Only four EU countries didn’t have ARR: the UK, Ireland, Austria, and the Netherlands. That imbalance couldn’t continue. Once harmonisation became inevitable, the conversation changed entirely.

Equally important was the incoming Labour government in 1997. The Artist’s Resale Right is, at its heart, a socially progressive measure. It needed a government willing to see cultural value beyond market value.

What role did alliances and campaigning play during that shift?

DACS really led the charge. They mobilised artists, encouraged them to speak to MPs, and they also became active in international networks like CISAC. By the early 1990s, all the groundwork that had been laid throughout the previous decade began to converge into something far more organised.

The Artists’ Campaign for the Resale Right was established in 1993 and was supported by around 20,000 UK artists and arts organisations. It had an Executive Committee of three artists, a legal adviser and an administrator provided by DACS, and worked closely with its Dutch and Irish counterparts. Their engagement with EU and UK Government officials, MEPs, MPs and other influential bodies carried forward the wishes of the vast majority of UK artists to see ARR introduced here.

At the same time, I used my personal connections within the Labour Party, Tony Blair, Paul Boateng and a few others I’d known since my Bar days to ensure ARR would be taken seriously by a future government.

Several people also deserve recognition who gave the campaign moral authority and artistic credibility, and sadly, they’re no longer with us. Eduardo Paolozzi was hugely supportive from the late ’70s onwards. He championed ARR among artists and institutions, including the Royal Academy.

Richard Hamilton was another central figure. I first met him when I was a student, in the late ’60s up in Newcastle, where he was reconstructing Duchamp’s Large Glass. He

believed deeply in artists’ rights. Mark Boyle and Joan Hills also played important roles as vocal supporters.

On the legal side, Lawrence Harbottle of Harbottle & Lewis was crucial. He was a mentor to me, and he opened doors and that carried enormous weight.

What lessons from the ARR campaign are most relevant today, especially for navigating challenges around AI?

The author L. P. Hartley once wrote: ‘The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.’ Everything we’ve discussed feels like a foreign country now, but the lessons still matter.

Keeping parliamentarians informed and engaged is absolutely vital. Complacency is the real danger.

ARR was won through persistence, alliances, political influence, and international cooperation. Those same ingredients are needed now to continue to protect ARR and to protect artists’ rights in the age of AI. Artists are often forgotten in these debates unless someone fights in their corner. The same was true in the ’70s, and it’s still true now.

About the author

Henry Lydiate is a leading expert on artists’ rights and copyright, with decades of experience as an an art lawyer, educator, published writer and journalist. He has played a key role in shaping understanding of artists’ legal and economic rights through his writing, teaching and advocacy across the creative sector.