Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2018 with funding from Getty Research Institute https://archive.org/details/internationalstu7529unse p GO Cents the Copy tnreRtiATionAL WINSLOW HOMER’S “EIGHT BELLS*’ MARCH 1922 Twenty-Fifth. Anniversary Numter mreRHAtlOllAL sruoio me 786 sixzn Avemie . new xjork The Macbeth Gallery had been in existence for five years when the Inter¬ national Studio was founded a quarter-century ago. THIRTY \ EARS is not long as time is reckoned, yet the period from 1892 to 1922 covers practically the whole history of modern American art. THIRTY YEARS AGO Inness, Wyant, Martin, Twachtman and Blakelock were producing and exhibiting the canvases now so eagerly sought by collectors. THIRTY YEARS AGO Dewing, Murphy, Tryon and Weir had only recently been elected to membership in the National Academy. THIRTY YEARS AGO Carlsen, Daingerfield, Davis, Henri, Hassam, Melchers and Symons belonging to the younger group of men in their twenties and thirties. THIRTY YEARS AGO Dougherty, Williams, Frieseke, Carlson, Miller, Hawthorne, and many others well known today, were still several years from their first exhibition. THIRTY YEARS devoted exclusively to the work of American artists is the unique record of THE MACBETH GALLERY 450 Fifth Avenue • New York City Thirtieth anniversary issue of our “Art Notes” will be mailed on request T wenty-Fifth oA nniversary umber tuTsei.um'ooreAiL Registered at United States Patent Office Copyright, 1922, by International Studio, Inc. Entered as second-class matter , March 1, 1897, at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., under the Act oj March 3, 1879 - - - — - <§> MARCH 192 2 VOLUME LXXV NLTMBER 299 MON T H L Y 60c A COPY $6.00 A YEAR Canadian Postage 60 cents Foreign Postage $i .00 <§> - Editor • VEYTON cBOSlVELL Assistant Editor - W- B • McCORMICK ARTICLES THIS NUMBER Eric Hudson — Marine Painter . William B. McCormick . . . Color plate and three illustrations Significant French Art of the Year . Muriel Ciolkowska . Eight illustrations Berlin and Paris Art Embroglio . ... Two illustrations Lucy Perkins Ripley — Sculptor . Lula Merrick . Twelve illustrations Persian Painting — Its Age of Glory . . W. G. Blaikie Murdock . . . Color plate and ten illustrations Gustave Moreau’s “Oedipus and the Sphinx” . Illustration The Art of the Bijitsu-in . Helen Comstock . Two illustrations A Forgotten Death Mask — King Henry of Navarre . Helen W. Henderson . . . . Two illustrations J.-L. Forain, the Man and His Work . . . Louise Gebhard Cann . . . . Color plate and ten illustrations Winslow Homer’s “Eight Bells” . I llustration Wall Paper of the Olden Time . Mary Harrod Northend . . Eight illustrations The New Randall Davey . William B. McCormick . . . Color plate and Jive illustrations Van Dyke’s “Mademoiselle de Gottignies” . I llustration Rose O’Neill’s Sculptured Drawings . . Edythe H. Browne ...... Eight illustrations The Last Flare of the Gothic Spirit . Two illustrations Young Museums with New Missions . . . Rossiter Howard . Speaking of Child Artists — Beonne Boronda . . . . Three illustrations America Re-discovers Tiles . Hanna Tachau . Five illustrations Prize Winners at the Pennsylvania Academy . . Three illustrations America Has Its Primitives . E. H. Cahill . Four illustrations Mobile Painting — The Clavilux .... Roderick Seidenberg . . . . Three illustrations Abbott H. Thayer’s “Figure — Half Draped” . I llustration “Studio Talk” . The Editor . PAGE 3 7 •3 14 30 31 34 39 47 48 57 61 63 69 70 73 75 79 80 84 87 88 TO CONTRIBUTORS Articles are solicited by the editor on subjects that are interesting and signijicant in all branches oj the fine and applied arts. No responsibility is assumed Jor the safe custody or return oj manuscripts, but due care will be exercised. President ■ PEYTON BOSWELL Treasurer • S ' W * FRANKEL Secretary * C * A * BENSON PUBLISHED MONTHLY BY INTERNATIONAL STUDIO, Inc. 786 SIXTH AVENUE - - - NEW YORK THE GETTY CENTER LIBRARY International Studio M arch 1922 PAINTINGS AND BRONZES Paintings by Luks Courbet Daumier Ryder Tack Carriere Sisley Myers Beal Toulouse-Lautrec Fantin Halpert du Bois Zuloaga Forain Prendergast Sloan Decamps Puvis de Chavannes by Modern Masters of American and European Art on ^view at the Bronzes by Mahonri Young La Chaise and Bourdelle C. W. KRAUSHAAR ART GALLERIES 680 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK KOUCHAKJI FRERES 709 FIFTH AVENUE NEW YORK March 1922 International Studio WILDENSTEIN & CO. 'W ‘Distinguished OLD PAINTINGS WORKS OF ART TAPESTRIES FRENCH FURNITURE of the 18th Century 57, RUE LA BOETIE 647 FIFTH AVENUE PARIS NEW YORK International Studio M arch 1922 DUDENSINr j JrrZalleries ,S,=”\J . . . WHEN FRIENDS VISIT YOUR HOME DO THEY SHOW ANY INTEREST IN YOUR PICTURES? 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DAVIES PAINTINGS ERIC HUDSON R. SLOAN BREDIN JOHN FOLINSBEE W. L. CARRIGAN MURRAY BEWLEY H. F. WOLTMAN THEODORE ROBINSON B Y R. A. BLAKELOCK CHAUNCEY RYDER J. ALDEN WEIR CHILDE HASSAM EMIL CARLSEN GEORGE INNESS JOHN H. TWACHTMAN [ vi ] March 1922 International Studio From the Will of EDMOND DE GONCOURT [translated] MY WISH IS that my Drawings, my Prints, my Curiosities, my Books in a word, these things of art which have been the joy of my life — shall not be consigned to the cold tomb of a museum, and sub' jected to the stupid glance of the careless passer-by; but I require that they shall all be dispersed under the hammer of the Auctioneer, so that the pleasure which the acquiring of each one of them has given me shall be given again, in each case, to some inheritor of my own tastes. THE ANDERSON GALLERIES [MITCHELL KENNERLEY, President] PARK AVENUE AND FIFTY'NINTH STREET NEW YORK [ vii ] International Studio March 1922 DUVEEN BROTHERS PORCELAINS TAPESTRIES OBJETS d’ART PARIS NEW YORK [ viii ] s ERIC I I II U /'ON SMarine fdainler^ 23 here is a tale told of Eric Hudson’s youthful days in the art schools that when his class held an exhibition of its work and it was imperative he should be represented, Hudson would rush in with a picture the day before the exhibition closed and add it to the display of his colleagues. This anecdote is a fitting beginning for a review of his life as revealed in his art, for it indicates the outstanding characteristic of the artist — his profound belief that it is his work which counts and not the showing of it. How strongly this faith has dominated his artistic life is made plain by the fact that it was not until January, 1922, that a representative group of his pictures had ever been publicly ex¬ hibited. And this despite that he is well along in the forties, that he has shown single canvases in most of the important annual art exhibitions of the United States and that he has a painting in the Luxembourg. Long before Mr. Thomas Russell visited Monhegan Island, in an effort to induce Hudson to show his paintings in the Lerargil Galleries in New York city, many of the artists visiting the Maine island, where Hudson makes his home for most of the year, had observed this same quality of reserve. It was not timidity, nor aloftness. His work in itself and of itself was the only thing that counted with him. Biographical books of reference are barren of accounts of this artist’s life, not that they have not been sought for but because Hudson does not think such public records are of any importance. It is even told of him that when he went to the art schools as Elmer Hudson and all the students began calling him “Eric,” he retained that name because it was an easier thing to do than insist on the name his parents had given him. He has studied in various schools in this country and in France. And this last bit of information is interest¬ ing in connection with his work, for there are unmistakable Gallic influences in it, traces of that distinctive thoroughness and soundness which is so characteristic of French training when applied to any of the arts. He used to make his home in Bronxville, spending many months of the year on Monhegan, where he has a house. In recent years the spell of that Maine island has gripped him closer to its rocky heights; and now¬ adays he rarely leaves the place with which his entire art expression is concerned. Those who know Hudson best, and they are not many, declare that it is a genuine, deep- seated love for the sea and ships that has drawn him to painting these subjects. And he knows both. For it is also said of him that “any fisher¬ man on Monhegan will lend his boat to Hudson,” a compliment that only those who know what pride fishermen take in their boats and how care¬ ful they are of them will appreciate to the full. To draw such a compliment from a fisherman is a higher honor in that world than it is to win a medal of honor in the field of art. This love and this knowledge gleam out of every one of his canvases. From the very be¬ ginning of the occasional exhibition of his marines in the National Academy and the other big shows, every visitor who knew boats and the sea saw at once that a marine painter had come into the American art world who was a master in his elected field. These pictures were not the work of a man who sat on the shore and looked at surf and ships. They were the product of a man who had gone out on the ocean, had toiled on it, had His color and power sat¬ is fi/ sea-looers more than any artist since the days of Winslow Homer . by WILLIAM B. McCOKMICL MARCH I922 three inceRHACionAL fought against its enormous power, had enioyed to the full the conquest of it through understand¬ ing. Nor had its ever-changing patterns, its varying hues, its countless beauties eluded his eye. Romance still abided on the sea; and be¬ cause it did, romance entered into every one ot Hudson’s paintings. This romantic spirit is notable in such a picture as “In the Trough of the Sea.” In its pattern it is a theme that Ryder might have set down on canvas, did not the mystical element enter so strongly into that great master’s work. In its color it has a depth that Ryder’s method pro¬ hibited. Y ou look down into Hudson’s ocean waves. You look at the enamelled surface of Ryder’s seas. And since Hudson is concerned in his art with observed facts of nature, as well as with its romance, it is only natural that he should present his facts with such a romantic vestiture. You feel these facts in the “knowing” form of the plunging sloop, bow on, with its dory on deck and the white seine-boat tossing high up on the crest of a sea astern. You feel them, also, in the rose-flushed sky that serves as a background for swelling sails and cresting waves. Reference has been “ manana ” . -r | • BY ERIC HUDSON made to possible influ¬ ences on Hudson’s artistic expression by outside sources, specifically of the French schools. To this observer the Gallic quality of thoroughness appears very marked in the three pictures, “An Island Harbor, ’ “January” and “Ebb Tide.” In the first-named of this trio this soundness of form is to be noted in the hull of the brown-sided yawl boat lying in the foreground and in the dories and skiffs. These are boats (as the young engi¬ neer on the Panama Canal said of Joseph Pennell’s lithographs of the great locks) that “will work.” They have the same graces of beauty as mark the side of the ancient fish-house at the left of the composition, a structure whose grey sides have been tinted by time into lichen-like hues, tones of faded loveliness that have a touch of sadness in them. Then the picture carries the eye, with an uplifting of the spirit, through motion and life, across the still waters of the little harbor to the rocky heights beyond. It is on this note of uplift that the picture rests. It is the perfection of the aimed efieet of at¬ mosphere that marks “January.” Nothing could Jour MARCH 1922 inceRttAcionAL SOTOE© WEST WIND BY ERIC HUDSON be simpler than this composition — some fish-houses on the end of a dock and a few boats tied up to the stringpiece. Patches of snow are here and there, crystal-hard under the pale blue sky. The air fairly tingles with the biting cold that grips the onlooker with its keen, frosty breath. The facts observed and set down here in such precise terms of realistic beauty are equalled in a softer vein in the “Ebb Tide.” The deep-hulled schooner alongside the wharf is a real piece ol mari¬ time construction, of whose perfections of form and build only the initiated may know. But the white snow on the deck and the feeling in the air of the scene are ones that all can delight in and admire. Pattern is so ever present in craft under sail that the correct use of it is almost the final test of the marine painter. Hudson’s command of the knowledge of pattern in this field is shown at its best, after “In the Trough of the Sea,” in “At Sea” and in the “West Wind.” The boldness of the “placing” of the old schooner in the first named picture, with the main-topsail and flying- jib cut off by the limitations of the canvas, is an achievement in itself. It adds enormously to the feeling of life in the picture, to the forward motion of the ancient “down Easter” under the force of the strong breeze crisping the tops of the waves into foam. The boat towing alongside, one of the afflictions of sailing, is another evidence of Hudson’s keenness of observation, for he has shown in it one of those wild shears on the towing line that are a part of the vicious habits of such craft, and which are the cause of much subdued profanity from the man at the wheel. The Dutch feeling in the “West Wind” is due rather to the accident of similarity of type of boat than any¬ thing else, for the “knockabout” rig coming down on the wind happens to look like a Dutch fishing craft, although the sloop heading away before the wind is unmistakably American in rig and the shape of the stern. Of the feeling Hudson has for the sea in its more peaceful aspects, when it is glamored with the beauty of shifting atmospheric effects, there are many signs in the “Lilting of the Fog” and “The Signal.” The sloop in the foreground of his fog study rides against a bold hillside, whose sloping face is delicately touched with the pale MARCH 1922 five inceRnACtonAL SOTM© greens of grass in springtime. Opalescent colors shift and play in the rising fog and on the gray- white water on which the moving dark shadows cast by the hull of the sloop make bold arabesques. In “The Signal” is pictured a mere note of the merchant marine service; a tugboat coming up to a square-rigger probably to arrange for a tow into harbor. There is a feeling of arrested motion in this composition that touches the subtler sense of such a moment, the quiet joy accompanying the inci¬ dent that only those who have been moved by it can feel to the full. It is phases like this in Mr. Hudson’s pictures that are so wholly satisfac¬ tory, since they show to us at once the romance and the beauty of the sea and its lite. It is as a colorist, however, that he makes his first impression; and it is as a colorist that his work endures. There is a depth and a resonancy to this element in his work that has all the un¬ labored feeling ol the finest surfaces of Chinese porcelain. No one can look at “In the Trough of the Sea” without feeling the extraordinary beauty of its color, color that is at once superbly true and of a depth the like of which it is not easy to recall. Translucency is achieved, with an even finer sensation, in the pic¬ ture entitled “Manana,” a noteworthy passage of this kind being seen in the deep blue water under the stern of the dories bobbing around the anchored menhaden boat. Since Winslow Homer died, it has appeared that we had no marine painter worthy to carry on his great tradition. Now Mr. Hudson comes to us, fully matured, as his artistic descendant. The knowledge and the power that the older man had is unquestionably possessed by the younger. And if Hudson lacks the dramatic sense of our greatest of marine painters that is atoned for by qualities which were foreign to Homer and which grace the younger man’s work with countless strokes. Hudson may have no stories to tell in paint, but he has other things to give us. And they may be found in that element in his beloved ocean which made Maurus Jokai call his almost forgotten novel “Eyes Like the Sea,” to denote, as our painter has, its ever-changing and ever- romantie beauty. “Never in my life had I seen such wonderful eyes, wrote Jokai. Every at sea , r . , BY ERIC HUDSON changelul mood was re¬ flected there; so I have called them ‘Eyes Like the Sea.’” Few appreciations of the ocean and its alternating transitions from quietude to tumult are so moving as these words of a man whose country knows no coast line. The “changeful mood” of the sea has made its appeal to our painter. If its tragedies do not invade his work, that is more a reflection ot his spirit, not of his inability to fathom those deeper undertones of the ocean, his friend and not his enemy. six MARCH 1922 -1 — i M In' 1 - " / - ^ r T A -| - v ^ 1 JL X VJ _ j j L ’ here are at least two ways ot con¬ sidering what is significant in con¬ temporary artistic production. On the one hand we have the master work long elaborated in mind and studio which is calculated to furnish tradition in the future; on the other, we have that which has “come out.” Said an old-stager in the war: “It is one thing to commit an heroic action; it is another to be seen.” The salons and arenas of artistic competition in gen¬ eral have always been battlefields where a great many significant deeds pass unnoticed and where many a less significant one is conspicuous. And are we to consider that art is expressed chiefly in painting and sculpture? The hospitality increasingly extended by the four Salons to the “crafts,” the min¬ gling oi “bacchante” by these with Joseph Bernard Freakishness on decline and public and critics turn toward beauty and craftsmanship ■ ■ by MURIEL CIOLKQWM ear pictorial forms in all the minor shows, and the rendering of pic¬ torial forms in materials other than “paint,” as for instance D unand’s recent experiments in lacquer, the marked decline in the prejudice that “oils” should (have precedence over other known mediums, are circumstances which should bring their own answer. A striking movement toward close co-operation between the arts and crafts seems to be indicative of the advent of a period artistic¬ ally analogous to the Mid¬ dle Ages. We find a symp¬ tom favorable to the theory in the increase of special schools and classes within the usual educational es¬ tablishments for the teach¬ ing of design and handi¬ crafts. Apparently exag¬ gerated pictorial produc¬ tion (I say “apparently,” lor who knows if it really is exaggerated) is not in op- Pbotograph by Position tO Giraudon t h I S a U- MARCH 1922 seven mreRnACionAL 5OTM© gury, for we may be wit¬ nessing the social paroxysm which often precedes the turn in the tide toward a new harmony between the arts and life. Nevertheless, the picture, especially that painted in oils, enjoys a favor commercially which it has not enjoyed at any former period. It has become a marketable value, a most useful article ol international exchange and speculation. And, while the public professes to be saturated with the overwhelming production, it attends all the Salons and galleries assiduously and discusses tendencies and merits with fervor. For no subject adapts itself more readily to comment, a picture having the advantage over other art forms that a play has over a book of poetry. Yet, though we talk a great deal about pic¬ tures and reviews and magazines and newspapers now devote as much space to art criticism as is desirable, such tremendous debates as were excited by Rodin’s Balzac twenty years ago have not occurred since, for our interest and curiosities have lost in passion if they have gained in scope. Opinion has become more guarded. The public has been taunted so often with having laughed in the wrong place that it dares laugh no longer. victor dupont Consequently it has become extremely “gullible.” Now and again a feeble convulsion occurs, as last spring in the case of Van Dongen’s portrait of M. Anatole France. Very much the same indignation was expressed as over the Balzac, though the fury did not rise to the same pitch, lor the days of fine frenzy are well over. People were indignant not so much because their principles in art had been violated, but because the features of one of their favorite great men had not been treated with the respect they thought due to them. A few rooms off the portraits of M. Jacques Blanche in a retrospective collection provided them with an opportunity to choose between two styles of portrait painting. In fashionable circles M. Van Dongen enjoys the favor which was be¬ stowed upon M. Jacques Blanche twenty years ago, but among the critics they are neither of them popular now. Yet M. Jacques Blanche respects the human face and has turned out many an ex¬ cellent portrait. The argument that M. Van Dongen is disrespectful is nonsense, for he serves upon the public no more of that caricature-like deformation than it has been encouraging and approving for years. In short, these sudden rever- eight MARCH 1922 mceRnACionAL sions of opinion are ground- marquet’s astonishing marine at the The big Ingres oeneht dis- l r ■ o SALON d’aUTOMNE (lQ2l) , T I p t less and unjust. Success, ' play had a more didactic be it remembered, is nearly always disproportioned to merits, and failure equally so to want of them. While in Venice this autumn M. Van Dongen, who has participated too actively in modern ten¬ dencies in France to deserve repatriation to his native country of Holland, preferred to interpret the modern human life of the place as might have done Watteau and Hogarth to attempting what others have done so well before him. But he also brought back some novel aspects of the old lagoons. The question of nationality in respect of artists is in truth irksome. Here we have, for instance, Jean-Maria Sert, living and exhibiting in Paris, who is of Spanish-Catalan birth and one ot lew modern artists with a scope of expression compara¬ ble to that of the masters of the Renaissance. His display at Arnold Seligmann’s in the late summer was, with lacovleff’s the year before, the most remarkable pictorial manifestation we have had since the war. Should his place among French artists be disputed his share in the year’s signifi¬ cant art here could not then be acknowledged. effect than that of the Dutch masters immediately preceding it. For it is well known that Ingres is the acknowledged loadstar of a large class of young French artists. The opportunity wras seized upon for the justification of certain oft expounded theories. Andre Lhote, who used to be an out and out cubist, has evolved according to Ingres’ doctrine, so he claims, but by this it must not for a moment be thought he attempts slavish imitation of the master’s style and achievements. Several painters, French and foreign, are pursuing their studies in the same direction (Bissiere, Chariot, Zarraga, etc.), giving rise to a classical revival, which must not be confused with the work of the self-styled “purists” whose ideal is “purely” negative. This Ingres-inspired move¬ ment is the definite reaction from Impressionism and that sentimental if skillful elimination and blurring as embodied by Carriere. A painter who does not take part in any of these theory-supported group formations is Mathurin Meheut whose show at the Pavilion de Marsan, embracing work done during the war in march 1922 nine mceRnAcionAL SOTOR© the trenches and since in Brittany, proved him to be exceptionally equipped for mural decoration on a vast scale and the illustration of epics pic¬ turesque and dramatic. He began his career draw¬ ing submarine flora and fauna and this has given his clraughtmanship a fine decorative emphasis. Another true and conscientious artist who with¬ holds from social action in the art movement, and exhibits but rarely, is Albert Andre who paints nature without affectation and with an originality which is more than skin deep. To him substance and form are realities to which the painter’s brush must adapt itself and to the rendering of which “personality” and “temperament” are secondary considerations. Typically French for his extraordinary pro¬ ficiency is Marquet, known chiefly for his sea¬ scapes but on occasion a most remarkable figure painter as was proved by a recent nude, which should go to the Touvre. His water-piece at the Salon d’Automne was astounding for limpidity and simplicity of means. Despagnat’s show at Alarcel Bernheim’s brought one of the various contradictions which might be cited to the prevalent opinion that much of the “flower piece' modern art is “sad,” a view based on a popular notion that color is conditional on “gaiety.” This depends entirely on the use to which it is put and the eyes that look upon it, one would think. Despagnat, Camoin, Ottmann, Victor Dupont, and others, though luminous, though still enam¬ ored of sunlight as were the Impressionists, are not “gay,” while Marchand, Segonzac, Moreau and Boussingault, whom the play of light does not fascinate, their obsessions being more fundamen¬ tally directed, are not “sad.” The point at issue is once more nonsensical and critics must be very short of ideas to discuss puerilities worthy only of people to whom the church organ is sad and the barrel organ cheerful. We don't look for sadness and gaiety in art and we admire Despagnat’s beautiful young creatures disporting themselves in sunlit glades because he paints them well and in colors which are not cheap or strident. Bonnard’s “one-man” exhibition was also an event, (or this painter has a very considerable following of admirers. Nuance and subtlety, and discreet, deep-lying skill are his characteristics, but he is too well-known to need comment here. Among the notable revela- by em i lie charmy tions of the year were Emilie ten MARCH 192 2 mreRHAcionAL StlJDE© Charmy and Mme. Bardet, neither of whom were widely known up to now, on account of their ab¬ stention from salons and clans. Charmy is an extremely fluent artist, a magic manipulator of oil paints, temperamental to the utmost, with a wonderful precision within her freedom. Mme. Bardet’s is a concentrated originality. Whether it be in painting, drawing, or sculpture her efficiency is coupled to a curious and discreet faculty for observation. She is a draughtsman of the purest possible breed. Almost to the last I leave the picture which drew upon itself approval from the highest quar¬ ters this autumn, the “Mother and Child,” by Jean Marchand, exhibited in the much-discussed Salle 2 of the Salon d’Automne, by the side of Segonzac and other “harmonists” as distinct from the “melodists” in other rooms. This success says much lor the acumen of the painter’s partisans, who tor some years past have proclaimed him a master in the making. The beauty of the picture lies in its unity, its warm though restrained spontaneity, the fullness, directness, whole minded- marchand’s “mother , , AND child” AT THE SALON ness of the workman- d’automne (1921) ship, all of which have served to express simple feeling eloquently and impressively. Yet it is somewhat to be feared — so adulterated is all opinion nowadays with con¬ siderations alien to art — that it was Marchand’s presentation of this superb young creature suck¬ ling her child, clothed in homely garments and set in a scene suggestive of the artisan suburbs of big towns, that won him the admiration of those who would have it that fine painters should not paint “fine” people. However, it is quite certain that such considerations did not affect the exceptional praise of a man so genuine, who is a true lover of art, as is M. Andre Michel. The citizens of Pitts¬ burg will have an opportunity of seeing another version of this picture which has been chosen for the Carnegie Institute’s next display. Flandrin, who is a most talented painter, pays no heed to these democratic appeals and at the Spring Salon he showed a very remarkable picture of a scene in the Bois with fashionable ladies and children on foot ancl on horseback, gay and ex¬ clusive. Maurice Denis’ VENICE. BY KEES VAN DONGEN MARCH Q22 eleven mceRnAcionAL “Bacchanalia” appeared to react somewhat violently against the gravity a discontented public mistakes for solemnity. But it iailed ol conviction, for M aurice Denis is not quite himself when he is jovial and profane. With the exception of Maurice Denis and Mme. Pauline Peugniez, who is charmingly gifted, there is very little that strikes one as very inspired in most of the “religious” art, so designated, which has blossomed forth of late. The memorable exception in recent years has been Bourdelle’s “Vierge a L’Enfant” also shown at the Spring Salon by the side of his stirring fragment lor the monument to Poland’s national poet Miskiewicz. Bourdelle always carries one away because there is a swing and a spirituality in his magnificently thought out work unique in modern sculpture. His were the most admired exhibits at the last Nationale Salon, where Wittig, in the Polish sec¬ tion, Hernandez, a Spaniard, with his black granite animals, Loutchansky, a Russian, who carves his figures out of wood, were other sculptors repre¬ sented by outstanding work. Recently Jose Claret proved himself a past master in that very difficult material terra-cotta, w'hich few modellers dare tackle. Like Jean- Maria Sert, he is a Catalonian, but he learned his art with Maillol and practices it in France where he is much appreciated. His works are robust and exquisite variations, it may be said, on the ever- pleasing theme of feminine grace. Maillol’s figure at the Salon d’Automne, at which he has been working seven years, has just been bought by the State. It is eloquent of the theory expressed by Maurice Denis that the Greek tradition can be detected in all fine modern art. To conclude: Freakishness is steadily on the decline. The popularity of sane, well-balanced, unobtrusive work like Marchand’s is evidence that neither critics nor public can endure it any longer. Gradually beauty in its true essence — we speak not of prettiness — is coming into its own again: beauty of form, beauty of craftsmanship, and not the cult merely of the feminine. Their union was majestically demonstrated in M. and Mme. Fernand Maillaud’s tapestries shown in the autumn at the Galerie Artes and in an exhibition which closed the year at George Petit’s where Jouve, in monumental representations of wild animals; Schmied, in w'ood engravings of the most accomplished character, and Goulden, in sugges¬ tions for lacquer ware carried out by the master- smith Dunand, were the most encouraging en¬ dorsement to the prophecy tentatively put for¬ ward at the outset of this too cursory survey of France’s achievement in art works during the past year. It is apparent to all in the spring of 1922 that the creative spirit of art is alive in France, and now' that beauty seems again to have come into its own, and ugliness no longer to be wor¬ shipped, the world will watch eagerly to see w'hat the outcome is going to be. MODERN TAPESTRY DESIGNED BY FERNAND MAILLAUD twelve MARCH 1922 mceRHAcionAL > erhn anJ “H/Qins ART EMBROGOO i/ln echo of the world conflict hrough the action of M. Anatole France, in calling attention to the exhibition of this archaic Greek statue of an “Enthroned Goddess” in the Kaiser Friedrich Museum in Berlin, there has been revealed an art story of the World War in which France suffers as a result of the integrity of her courts of law. At the outset of the conflict this sculpture was found in the gallery of a Parisian dealer of German nationality and was sequestrated. Soon after an Italian appeared in Paris and claimed the statue as his property, the statue I , j , . ■ ' , PARIS WANTED stating he had merely deposited the work with the German. Elis claim was pre¬ sented to the court and it decided in favor of the Italian. Once in his possession he sent it to Switzer¬ land, giving as a reason for this action that Italy was on the verge of war. The fact that Germany was at war did not deter her art lovers, with the former Emperor at their head, from raising money to buy the sculpture, and so it passed irom Switzerland into Germany. When the authorities of the Fouvre first proposed buying the work the German dealer asked upwards of $500,000 for it, a figure regarded as prohibitive. Just what the Germans paid is not known. A repprt has been printed that they gave 1,000,000 marks. The figure is life-size and in remarkably line state of preservation, as the photographs show. German authorities declare it to date from the fifth century, B. C., but some critics are of the opinion that it came lrom Sicily where it was the work of a sculptor ol the third century, B. C., still dominated by THE STATUE BERLIN GOT the earlier mode. MARCH I922 thirteen inceRnAcionAL LUCY PERKINS ™ley c^)culvlor FLOWER BOX TO BE CAST IN LEAD Her recent achievements are the product of a career wisely planned U Ll[LA —she began by making pottery MERRICK enturies of tradition have encour¬ aged the masculine sex to regard itself as pre-eminent in industry, politics and art; yet every once in a while some woman genius appears to shake the world’s acceptance of the belief that to men alone belong the creative gifts and fine completeness of standards upon which civilization has been built. History, of course, records the names of many women who have had a profound influence upon art, literature and science — Rosa Bonheur, Angelica Kaufmann, George Eliot, George Sand, Madame de Sevigne, Madame Curie, etc. But their names have been so few as to make but a slight impression in the records of progress. In early Greek, Roman, Egyptian and Italian art women never figured except as models. The Byzantine period is filled with sad-eyed madonnas who served as mute patterns through which the artists of the time expressed the religious urge within them. In the Italian Renaissance the two women best remembered in connection with art are the Mona Lisa of Leonardo, whose enigmatic smile has baffled the world, and Titian’s Flora, she of tranquil, luscious beauty and bronze-toned hair. In France, in the days of the monarchy, when women were treated like dolls, Lancret, Watteau, Nattier, Greuze and Fragonard repre¬ sented court belles and king’s favorites for the pleasure of their admirers, while in England somewhat later Reynolds, Gainsborough, Romney and Lawrence made their fame through their records of beautiful women, while the women themselves were content to employ their idle hours at nothing serious. In America, where art is as old as the world, general belief to the contrary, it was the Indian “THE INNER VOICE" men who decorated their huts, hunting knives and spears with the forms of animals, while the wo¬ men gathered fuel, cultivated the maize and did all the drudgery of the community. But the world has changed. Wo¬ man, by her own wit, has awakened the race to her im¬ portance and to the part she is able to play in the world’s general advance¬ ment. At first she was accepted as an aid to economic progress; later she began to develop power for artistic expression, u today we have many wo m e n painters and sculptors who take rank with the men who are achieving fourteen MARCH 1922 mceRHACionAL things in the realm of aesthetics. In sculpture Europe has at the present time her Maria Antoi¬ nette Pogliani, of Italy, hailed by some as the greatest woman creative genius the old world has ever seen, and whose work has been so greatly admired by Americans that she has been encour¬ aged to plan an exhibition here. Several women sculptors have claimed recogni¬ tion in the last decade in America, and notable among them is Mrs. Lucy Perkins DA Ripley. Her career is worth recording for its lessons in self guidance, as well as for the beauty and strength of the art she has attained. Unlike the great majority of students, who after a few years of study plunge into competitions for monuments and big commissions, Mrs. Ripley early realized that the path of art is long. She was well aware of the “dangerous curve ahead,” since she is a thinker whose calm judgment bal¬ ances the fervor of creative emotion. After she had spent some years studying at the Art Stu¬ dents League, under St. Gaudens, she decided in her modesty that she was then equipped to make pottery. For some time Mrs. Ripley devoted herself wholly to designing flower boxes and fixtures for the general decoration for gardens. From this humble beginning, progress came surely and naturally. Leaders head of : in the art world soon saw that she was no mere potter, but a sculptor with decided originality and rare creative force. The individuality and line expression of her simplest designs brought her serious recognition and gave her a place of distinction in that phase of art expression in which she was then employed. Always thinking of figures in design, even from childhood, it was but natural that she should mould them into her decorative mutifs. The animals, birds and human forms that she used showed movement, force and vitality, albeit that she made no attempt at realism, but rather em¬ ployed her forms in expression of her emotional conceptions. Her pottery at that time was conceded to be the best in design of any in America; she had given as much serious thought and study to it as she does today to her sculpture lish girl in the round. Her themes MARCH IQ22 fi Jteen mreRnAcionAL even then testified to the fact that she had long been a student of the classics, of the primitive art of the Etruscans and of early Indian art, and that she had evolved from her knowledge ot the ancients a mode of expression that complied with her temperament. In her fine proportions, her stress on architec¬ tonic elements and her unusual patterns, Mrs. Ripley struck a new note in present day sculpture in this country, for she was the first to show frankly and fearlessly the influence of those earliest potters and to develop at the same time a creative genius so personal and compelling as to cause a decided stir in the art world. That she has had followers is the highest compliment the art fraternity could have bestowed upon her. Mrs. Ripley’s earliest work, even when she employed the smallest figures, bore evidence of the bigness of vision that has always characterized her. Broad masses, sweeping planes and a certain grandeur, dignity and purity of line, gave to her art from its beginning a sculptural quality keenly SEATED WOMAN appreciated by the aes¬ thetic world. She had early learned restraint and the strength of simplicity — the most difficult mode of expression — and in her accomplishment of both she has distinguished herself as a true artist. Later, when Mrs. Ripley went abroad, study¬ ing the work of the world’s greatest sculptors, Irom the Greek primitives down through the ages, with an open mind and sincere admiration, she nevertheless found nothing that changed her views one whit with regard to her own expression. The primitives had always appealed to her and the more opportunity she had to study them, the more was she enthralled by their purity, sentiment, depth of feeling and directness. The Byzantine, early Italian, Greek, Gothic, Assyrian, Etruscan, Persian and Egyptian artists all have had their place in her development, yet while one is thrilled and puzzled by the atmosphere her work exhales, the student must at length, in summing up her art, declare that its poignant feature lies in the fact that beyond all influence of her studies of great men, there is such a personal note, such rare individuality, intensity of feeling and creative force MEDITATION sixteen MARCH T I) 2 2 mceRnAcioriAL that it is to Lucy Perkins STUDY , ... Ripley’s own artistic genius, her perseverance and her keen intelligence and great emotional being that he must pay homage. While in Paris Mrs. Ripley exhibited her “Seated Woman” at the Societe des Beaux Arts. It was this work that so interested Rodin that he recommended it for exhibition, and which also made her eligible to him to become his pupil. When she returned to America she held an exhibi¬ tion at her studio, which when brought to the attention of Stanford White immediately claimed his interest. He recommended her garden sculp¬ ture for various fine estates and soon Airs. E. H. Harriman, Mrs. Charles Cary Rumsey, Mrs. Payne Whitney, Mr. Clarence Hay, Mrs. Arthur Curtis James and Mrs. Walter Bliss became her patrons. Mr. White purchased one of her well heads, conceived in Venice, for his country home at St. James, Long Island. Mrs. Ripley’s advancement to the place of dis¬ tinction she now holds has been therefore a slow and natural growth from simple beginnings, through years ol hard work, absorbing thought and study. That she was aware of the boundary wall niche lines of her talents and realized — study the struggle the years held for her. of close application and concentration, is something for which American art lovers can congratulate themselves. She was not satisfied with the knowledge of inherent gifts, and where others have left off she began. When a group of her sculptures was shown last year at the Milch Galleries, they brought forth high praise from critics and artists. It was per¬ haps her figure, “The Inner Voice,” that most im¬ pressed her audience. This work shows her to be a thinker in bronze, a spiritual associate with poets, the possessor ot concepts apart from commonplace existence. It is a work ot sculptured emotion. In it she has accomplished the remark¬ able feat not only of expressing her own inmost thoughts, but of influencing thoughtfulness in her audience. This statue betrays the fact that it has been the sculptor’s independence of purpose that has led her forth. The nobility of her motif is reminiscent of rare bits of early Etruscan and Roman art, but in giving artistic form to her emo¬ tional inspiration she displays an inexhaustible volume of originality. 1 he inscrutable mystery ol MARCH I g 2 2 seventeen mceRnAcionAL the face, its impassivity of expression, as though the soul were looking inward to its own depths, the majestic bearing of the figure, the poise of the expressive hands that so subtly correspond to the features and tell quite as much as the well-set head — all these combine to achieve in this work a fine completeness. Rare in quality and high artistic purpose as this work is, Mrs. Ripley was yet not satisfied, and believing that she could carry her theme to higher realms, she modelled a heroic size statue of “The Inner Voice’’ which shows in a superlative degree the great qualities of the smaller, and which gave her opportunities for more intense breadth and simplification. When this work is exhibited, the American public will realize that one of our women sculptors is worthy of their pride. It is illus¬ trated at the be¬ ginning of this article. In “Dawn,” the reclining figure of a woman, the art¬ BRONZE MEDAL TO DOUGLAS CAMPBELL, ACE ist has expressed her high aims in a most direct and simple manner, without convention. The face that appears to awaken to some mysterious life, with its conflicting emotions, surprise, apprehen¬ sion and determination, has brought into unmis¬ takable evidence the sculptor’s power; but the whole expression is so veiled in a tranquil belief in the world at its best that the observer must long study its subtilities to glean the artist’s and is as though the sculptor used the form as an incident to express an emotional moment; yet the body simply modeled, lives and breathes beneath the graceful folds of her drapery. In her absence ol sex emphasis in her art Mrs. Ripley betrays the essence of her genius. There is no evidence of a determination to show herself “strong,” in the manner of a man’s work. She forges ahead in her own way. In her inde¬ pendence and sin¬ cerity lies her strength — and her future in art. .lH eighteen MARCH 1922 J J I mceRnAooriAL ast tracts of Persia being mere desert, her people Iongago developed a signal skill in the construction of aqueducts. Water is doubly needful to these people, the love of gardening being strong among them. And is not this passion for flowers stamped clearly upon Persian painting, always so gay and glittering? It is indeed an excellent criticism of the artistic taste of the Land of the Lion and the Sun, which lies in her familiar proverb, “ Fill the eyes of a Persian.” But whence those extraneous forces which moulded Iranian painting, bringing about its peculiar character? In 323 B. C. Alexander the Great, lying sick unto death at Babylon, expressed fierce regret that he had never conquered the Arabs. With the dawn of the Christian era, many powerful kingdoms were formed, round about Arabia. Yet her sons remained unsubjugated, and a halo of mystery was woven around them, since it was seldom or never they emerged from their chosen territory, caring not themselves to essay invasions. But when, at the outset of the seventh century, the Arabs were converted to Mohammedanism, they became fired with ardor to win the wide world for their faith. And swiftly they made fiefs of Egypt, Mesopotamia, and Syria; then, in 641 at Nehavend, not far from the southern shores of the Caspian, they gained a decisive victory over Persia. Accepting Islam, she became a mere province of the huge empire, the Caliphate, com- i PERSIAN PAINTING ITS A GEE OF GLORY ^for l eaulij of color and delicacy of line , lie cre¬ ations ofherminialur is Is lave never leen surpasse ’d WG.BfAlKIE MURDOCK MARCH 19 22 twenty -one mceRnAcionAL posecl of ail the lands conquered by the Arabs, the whole of Spain save Asturias being ere long added to the domain. There is no reason to suppose that the Arabs, at the date of Nehavend, were fitted to give artistic tuition to Persia. During long centuries before this she had been famous in many crafts. And nearly all the finest of the earlier mosques, built in Syria and Mesopotamia, were designed by architects from vanquished Iran. Nevertheless, made as she was, by her conquest, a part of the same realm as Egypt, she was brought into con¬ siderably closer touch than she had known recently, with the immemorial Egyptian culture. And the Arabs having intercourse with Byzan¬ tium, acquaintance with her art likewise shortly grew much wider with the Persians than ever heretofore. Centuries prior to the advent of Islam, Egypt had fashioned books, with pictorial embellishments, similar art having also been wrought superbly in Byzantium, just on the eve of Nehavend. And it was out of this same craft of book-decoration that there grew the fair flower, Persian painting. For with her acceptance of Islam, Persia waived her old form of writing, and espoused the Arabic script, presently yielding with it a wealth of beautiful copies of the Koran. And from this she passed to yielding beautiful copies of secular writings. But had not Mohammed, in his horror of worshipping dervishes on the border idols, preached against school of riza abbasi pictures simulating animate nature? How did Persia come prodigally to create art of that sort? In 680 Husayn, a native of Medina near Bagdad, made an effort to win the throne of the Caliphate. And being married to Sharlanu, daughter of the last king of the Sassanian dynasty, the rulers of Persia at the time of the Arab con¬ quest, Husayn gained many Persian supporters in his grasp at regal sway. Slain whilst fighting for this, he was thereafter viewed as a saint and martyr by those Persian supporters. And some of them founded anon a Mohammedan sect, which becoming known as Shia, or the faction, did not interdict pictures representing hie. In the mid¬ eighth century, the great empire of the Arabs having been disparted, rule over Persia was acquired by a house seemingly young woman offering a Gf pcrsjan origin, the DRINK TO A POET 0 by kassim ali — xvi century Abbasids. And under twenty-two MARCH 1922 inceRnAcionAL ;otm© the earlier monarchs of this line, Persia was notably fecund in the production of beautiful books. But their beauty lay mainly in arabesques, and the like, on the title-pages, and in the fine script of the text, caligraphy being regarded in Iran as a high art. As yet it was seldom that advantage was taken of the Shia permission to draw men or animals. The opening decades of the thirteenth cen¬ tury saw the Mongols begin their devastating marches into the Near East. In 1258 a Mon¬ gol force slew the last of the Abbasids; Mon¬ gol princes, caring for no sort of Mohamme¬ danism, became over- lords of Persia. And hence, throughout the land, the liberties which the Shia clergy had taken with the teaching of Mohammed met with much less disapproval than previously. Immediately before these hap¬ penings, heterodox Mussulmans, in Egypt and Mesopotamia, had started to engage in actually pictorial art, quickly achieving skill in it. But it was the destiny of Persia to be of Moslem countries the one chiefly doing exquisite work in art of that kind. The first really able ruler among the Mongol princes was Ghazan Khan, his reign extending from 1298 to 1304. And it was about his time that Persian painting soared into splendor. Geographically placed as she is, Persia neces¬ sarily received not only the influence of the other Mohammedan countries, but also that of the Far East. Her pictorial art of the Mongol period is divisible into two classes: the works strongly resembling those of the heterodox Egyptian and Mesopotamian artists aforesaid, and the works recalling China, this latter class being the more numerous of the two. Nevertheless, the affinity with China is purely one of style, by no means of media. For Persia apparently never employed the big brush and greatly absorbent paper of the Chinese school, and rarely if ever the silk, which that school fa¬ vored. With Persia, as with Egypt and Meso¬ potamia, pictures were commonly wrought on an almost opaque paper, hardly more ab¬ sorbent than vellum. And much of the finest Iranian work, of the Mongol period, con¬ sists in drawings with a reed-pen, the black strokes enhanced with small touches in gold. But at this period, and always afterward, the usual Persian method when handling poly¬ chrome was at least to outline the prospective picture with a brush, simply dipped in water, the sketch being hence no more than percep¬ tible. And, when satis¬ fied with this outline or sketch, the artist would proceed to cover ti e entire surface of his paper with water- colors, or perhaps to introduce among them a passage in gold, the brushes used being generally diminutive. Complete illustrated books, dating from the era of Mongol sway, are treasures very seldom met with. But, the world over, finely illustrated volumes are apt to have their best pictures reft from them. And such would seem to have been the history of most of the beautiful Iranian paintings remaining from the years of Ghazan Khan and his immediate successors. For to this day, independent pictures intended lor hanging on the wall are uncommon in Persia. Ghazan’s dynasty was to be ousted by com¬ patriots. As the fourteenth century advanced, the most illustrious of Mongol soldiers, Tamer¬ lane. commenced Ins onslaughts on Persia. And winning a great victory there in 1388, he added virtually the whole land to his colossal realm. This, on the conqueror’s death in 1405, was divided among certain of his descendants. But coevally with these happenings, Persian painters yielded a plentitude of beautiful work. In 1469 Husayn Mirza, whose grandfather was a grandson of Tamerlane, took possession of the easterly PORTRAIT OF HUSAYN MIRZA BY B1HZAD MARC H 9 2 2 I wen tv-tb ree mceRnACtoriAL OTOE© province of Persia, Khorassan, styled himself a king, and fixed his court at Herat. For although today belonging to Afghanistan, that town was formerly included in Khorassan, the Herat denizens being even now mostly Persian, with a Turkish strain. During a good while prior to her acquisition by Husayn Mirza, Herat had been a considerable centre of activity in painting, the artists there largely tending to emulate Chinese work, which tendency was the dominant one still at the close of the fifteenth century with the majority of paint¬ ers throughout Iran. Nevertheless, at Herat there was to step into prominence the Persian master, who, subverting the current allegiance to Chinese art, led the way to Persia, having an essentially national school of painting. And that master was Bihzad. In quite a number of early geographical books, for instance that of the Arab, Edrisi, who wrote in the mid-twelfth cen¬ tury, there is much praise of Herat, as a splendid town. The district around her being fertile, and the town a point where many caravan-tracks met, she was long the prime agricultural mart of Central Asia. And Husayn Mirza proving a ruler of high ability during his wise reign, Herat throve as never before; her wealth passed into a proverb; and the new potentate’s court was far- famed, too, for its intellectual character. For Husayn was an enthusiastic connoisseur; he was personally a writer, alike of verse and prose; he loved to have men of taste around him. And thus, under him, Herat became, even more than previously, a rallying ground for workers in all fields of art. It does not appear to be known exactly where, or when, Bihzad was born, the master settling at I lerat on the eve of the sixteenth century, and ere long he was working almost exclusively for Husayn Mirza. He wrought several portraits of the monarch, among them an equestrian one, which, no larger than an octavo volume, is yet well in the forefront of the world’s equestrian portraits, those by Rubens, Velasquez, and Van Dyck not excepted. Whilst Bihzad was earning renown at Herat, there had grown powerful, in Iran, a noble Iranian house, with a slight strain of Greek blood in their veins, the Safavi. And in 1499 a scion of this house, Ismail, was crowned king of prac¬ tically all Persia, save Khorassan. In 1506 Flusayn Mirza died; neither of his two sons inherited his ability; in 1510, Ins realm of Khorassan was an¬ nexed by Ismail. And hence Persia became, as in pre-Mohamme- dan ages, really a country, her rulers native. Ismail chose as capital Tabriz, in the Northwest, whither naturally migrated Bihzad, on the death of Husayn Mirza. And soon the master was as great a favorite with Shah Ismail as he had been with the monarch at Herat. I ndeed, stout soldier though he was, the Safavid Shah was an ardent votary of the arts. It is told of him that, in 1514, when going out to battle with the hordes of invading Turks, he exclaimed that his dearest hope, in the event of the fray going against him, was that Bihzad should not be captured by the enemy. And coming home after stemming, il only stem¬ ming, the Turkish invasion, the Shah’s first words were an enquiry concerning the welfare of his beloved painter. With this keen favor from Ismail, Bihzad inevitably spent the rest of his life at Tabriz. And his tomb there is pointed out yet to the traveler, 1525 having been the year of the master’s death. Nizami and Sadi, both of whom lived in the twelfth century, were still popular throughout Liventy-J our MARCH 1922 mceRnACioriAL I, • t'i • LUVt SLhNh brought about in Persian BY R,ZA abbasi— Persian painting, occurred with — late xvi century tolerable quickness. In the years when the great master was growing old, many Iranian painters still keenly admired China, many studied fondly her pictures. Yet the fatuity of seeking actually to imitate these was virtually gone from Iran ere Bihzacl himself laid down the brush. Of the group working in eminently national style, who came to the fore in Bihzad’s later years, the earliest of high gifts was Mirak, a native of Ispahan, some 200 miles south from the Caspian. Dreaming eagerly, as a boy, of receiving lessons from Bihzacl, he accordingly proceeded to Herat, his dream being duly realized there. And probably through the kind services of his distinguished preceptor, Mirak came under the friendly notice of Husayn Mirza. But on the annexation of Khorassan by Ismail, the young artist went to Tabriz, and it was in that town the bulk of his life’s work was done. Mirak occasionally, though only occasionally, signed his pictures, these suggesting in general a sunny temperament, say like that of Francois Boucher. As with the Frenchman, there was with the Persian a tense preoccupation with elegance; he was enamoured of delineating people in postures “warrior” • ■ a c r ■] by- mohammed moukim — Persia, in the bala\ id Indian — xvi century period. And those two were among the poets, copies of whose writings were illustrated by Bihzacl. As a rule he signed his pictures, writing before his name sometimes Al faghir, or the poor, sometimes Pir ghulam, or old servant. But since these signatures are usually microscopic, and put in a part of the picture where they would be the least likely to be noticed, it need not be deduced, from their tenor, that the great artist was addicted to mock-modesty. A beautiful draughtsman, his lines apparently conveying ever just what he desired they should convey, he would seem, nevertheless, to have admired restraint fully as much as his Western contemporary, Holbein. And further resembling that master’s work, Bihzad’s is nearly always neat and orderly, almost prim. But there was in him none of Flolbein’s austerity; he had the typical Persian affection for flowers. He loved to depict his group of people in a garden, rich in glowing blossoms. An artist must have grand intellectual inde¬ pendence would he confront a strong, current tradition. And if Bihzad was opulent in such inde¬ pendence, rebelling as he did against the pseudo- Chinese style, the change which his rebellion march 1922 t wenty-Jive inceRnAoonAL raot© presenting graceful lines. He liked an in¬ terior as a setting for his group of people, or he would figure them in front of a building. And his interiors recall those of Lavreince, his buildings those of Piranesi. The art of Lavreince constitutes a precise record of do¬ mestic decoration, as practiced in France in the closing 1700’s, the art ot Mirak a precise record of the same, as practiced in Persia in the opening decades ot the sixteenth century. For Mirak would per¬ petuate the inherent beauty of each separate article in a room, furni¬ ture or utensils. And thus also drawing a building, his prime interest was in the intrinsic architectural beauty. He would perpetu¬ ate this faithfully as ever Piranesi did, even unto the slightest details. Like Bihzacl before him, Mirak drew illus¬ trations to the poems of Nizami. For be it noted, the famous Persian painters were hardly ever concerned, as so many of the ablest Japanese mas¬ ters were, with the embellishing of books written in their own day. The aspiration with the wealthy Per¬ sian bibliophiles was almost exclusively to possess fine copies of the old authors. And very often the produc¬ tion of one of these copies was entrusted to four separate artists. Besides the c a I i - grapher, there was the binder; and besides the illustrator there was the man adorning the title-page with arab¬ esques, and the like. Never, it seems, did heterodoxy in Persia go the length of giving to the Koran decorations other than these last named. But the de¬ mand for finely illus¬ trated secular writings quickly grew wider in the Safavid period than it had been pre¬ viously. In the time of Mongol sway, the Shia clergy had not enjoyed much prestige, whereas Ismail, on his acces¬ sion, announced that henceforth Shia Mo¬ hammedanism was to be the official faith with the Persian royal house. Thus the making ol pictorial art became quite an orthodox affair. It was in lact fairly common for an artist, in noting at the end of a book his authorship of the illus¬ trations, to couch this superscription in pious terms. He would say, for instance, that he had undertaken the pictures in hopes that his soul might be saved thereby. Ismail, dying the year before the death of Bihzad, was suc¬ ceeded by his son, Tahmasp. In him, the love of art was nothing less than a passion. And his ardor in col¬ lecting fine books made the pursuit more and more fashionable with the Persian nobles. The newr monarch changed the capital from Tabriz to Kasvin, slightly tothe southeast of the former, and hence Kasvin was shortly the main scene of activity RESTING ON A TRIP PERSIAN - XVII CENTURY COVER FOR KORAN — PERSIAN — XVI CENTURY twenty-six MARCH 922 mreRnACionAL in painting. The artist winning especial celebrity in the reign of the second Safavid king was Sultan Mahmud, who, born about 1500, was not a mem¬ ber of the royal family, as might be supposed, for Sultan was long a popular name in Persia. Study¬ ing as a boy under Bihzad, Mahmud later worked for a while in Mirak’s studio. And he was deeply interested, as endless Persians of his day were, in trying to fabricate porcelain, a deal of which ware was perforce brought to Iran from China. The quest proved abortive, no earth suitable for porce¬ lain being discovered in Persia. But possibly the master’s disappointment herein was softened by the keen favor he came to enjoy from Tahmasp. Although Mahmud duly engaged much in book illustration, he painted a considerable number of independent portraits, among them several of his royal admirers. The Shah presents here just the dreamy, refined guise naturally looked for in a man of his predilections. And an artist called Mahch, of whose hie nothing is known, painted a very beautiful portrait of Sultan Mahmud himself, shown gazing intently at a sheet of paper which bears a picture of llowers. Sultan Mahmud frequently signed his pictures, writing beside his name the word amale, equiva¬ lent of pinxit or delineavit. Numerous of his works have a crowded, almost confused look, hinting that he had not adequately planned his scheme, ere putting brush to paper. Yet he is one of the great personalities ol Persian art, his style as grandly in¬ dividual as Bihzad’s, or Mirak’s, his work indicat¬ ing, moreover, a far deeper sense for nature, than any previous Persian had disclosed. Bihzad and Mirak, with all their love of the garden, would seem to have viewed the beauties of nature as Beardsley apparently did. They would seem, that is, to have thought of those beauties chiefly as something whence they might evolve, deliberately, a decorative background. Sultan’s art, conversely, tells of a true intimacy with nature, an emotional susceptibility toward her mystery, her varying moods. Bihzad and Mirak painted often merely the flowers in the garden; Sultan went further, painting the very sentiment of the garden, and occasionally he would set his figures amid a moun¬ tainous scene. Certain of his genre pieces, with landscape backgrounds, hold almost a memory ol the Fetes Champetres of Watteau. And Sultan dying about 1555, thereafter the painting of land¬ scape backgrounds became a tolerably frequent thing with his compatriots. Indeed, whoso is well versed in Bihzad, Mirak, and Sultan Mahmud, has a good conception of the style of Persian painting, as a whole, in the greater part of the sixteenth century. For those three masters were nearly as dominant over Iranian pictorial art ol their own and immediately subsequent times as was Rubens over the men of Antwerp, in his day, or Botticelli with Ins circle in Florence. Reference has been made to the binder being one of the quartet of artists concerned with the creation of the fine books in old Persia. In the earlier 1500’s, those volumes which were gems ol caligraphy and illustration were almost always cased in morocco, decked with tooled or impressed patterns, gilding being also used often. But, as the sixteenth century advanced, it grew usual to coat thinly with lacquer the morocco bindings, so that they might be suitable for decorations with the brush. And these painted covers are alike the true glory and the most individual achievement of Persia in the binding cratt: the best of them are among the finest things in the total art of the land. What daintiness of touch transpires in the studies of birds, or stags, or other animals, floral devices having also been greatly popular with the masters painting on the covers. And if those masters attained sundry of their rarest effects simply with pictures in gold on a black ground, many ot the painted covers embody well nigh all the colors imaginable, the books so adorned having the glitter of a casket of jewels. Nor were paintings on the face of the book reckoned enough by some of the more affluent bibliophiles: they must have the insides, or doublures, of the binding coated also with lacquer, so that painting might be done here likewise. Waiving the beautiful portraits aforesaid of Husayn Mirza, of Tahmasp, of Sultan Mahmud, with other portraits contemporaneous with them, the loose pictures remaining from the early and mid-sixteenth century may be assumed, like the analogous works dating from the Mongol period, to have been originally illustrations in books. They present no difference, in general guise, or in medium, from the pictures still conserved in the texts they respectively embellish. Alter the acces¬ sion of Shah Abbas the Great, in 1587, there was a marked increase in the production of independent portraits, although the adorning of fair volumes remained a vast, if not the chief concern with the Persian school. With his boundless ambitions, Abbas made an alliance with Britain; he welcomed at his court embassies from various Western countries, Spain for instance; he did all in his power to encourage trade between Persia and the Occident. And he sent examples ol Persian art as gifts to nearly every potentate in Europe. He was as desirous as Louis XIV or Napoleon that Ins reign should be a time signalized bv lofty artistic exploits on the part of his realm. And removing MARCH 1922 / wen ty-seve n — ~ — . . mceRHACionAL COURT SCENE — SCHOOL OF SULTAN MAHMUD - PERSIAN - XVI CENTURY twenty-eight MARC LI 1922 mceRnAcioriAL §fa®a© the capital from Kasvin to Ispahan, he founded there an Academy of Painting. The painter mainly favored by Abbas was Riza Abbasi, whose works include several portraits of his royal patron. Riza had an excellent sense for design, understanding ably the value of simplicity, and his draughtsmanship is clever. But his art, like that of plenty other men of high technical faculties, lacks sadly an air of dignity. For this last can scarcely come save from an artist having greatness of mind and of character. And far from having these, Riza was conceited to the point of pathos, as witness his practice of signing his name prominently on any scrap of paper on which he had made the slightest sketch. With his favor from the crown, he was perforce regarded as something of an exemplar by the Persian painters of his generation. And il they were not the equal ol the masters, who had worked under the spell of Bihzad, Mirak, and Sultan Mahmud, fine color- harmonies were nevertheless prodigally accom¬ plished by the men of the reign of Abbas. Artists now tended, still more than previously, toward strong, glowing tones. For the able rule ot the great Shah brought a new wealth into Iran, with the normal result that the grand in art was widely in demand. Moreover, in Abbas’ reign Persian painting grew incalculably influential in India, whose Emperor Jahangir, reigning from 1605 to 1627, was a passionate votary of the productions of his Northern neighbor. Collecting Persian books, Jahangir lavishly invited Persian painters to settle at his court, numerous of them doing splendid work there. At the outset of the eighteenth century, artistic activities were suddenly checked in Persia. In 1721, she was savagely assailed by an Afghan force; the Shah, Tahmasp II, was torcecl to fly from Ispahan; the Afghan general, Mahmud, seized the throne. And the country being thrown into a piteous state, Russia and Turkey were quick to take advantage, swooping down on Iran like vultures. But, again suddenly, there stepped on the scene a saviour, Nadir Kuli, a most romantic personage, for he had hitherto been a bandit- chieftain, in the mountain fastnesses of Khor- assan. Quickly calling a new Persian army, he transpired to be a brilliant soldier; he beat the Afghans in fight after fight, hurling them from the land. He restored Tahmasp to the throne, then, his ambitions whetted by these triumphs, Nadir forcibly took the sceptre into his own hands, proving himself a legislator of strength. Under Nadir’s rule, painting began to revive, the bandit king being himself interested in books. But the dynasty of his founding was short-lived, 1796 seeing the accession of the house at present reigning in Persia, their name Kaiar. And it was the first sovereign of this line who selected as seat of government the town to-day the Persian metropolis, Teheran. Like the Safavid family, the new monarchs cared seriously for art. And in the earlier decades of the Kajar period there was exquisite result of that revival of painting which the strong hand of Nadir Kuli had brought. True that, at this time, neither illustrating nor por¬ traiture was carried to its old heights of glory. But it is a fair question whether, in the little realm of painting on bindings, the opening 1800’s were not the premier epoch. As far back as the reign of Shah Abbas, binders had begun frequently to use paper-mache, instead of morocco, the former being very suitable for coating with lac¬ quer. And it is of paper-mache that most of the finest painted book-covers are made. Although China printed her books onwards from the tenth century, even at the outset of the nineteenth Persia entertained a positive prejudice against the typographic craft. It seemed to her an offensively mechanical thing; she would not believe that fine books might be yielded by it. And her first step toward other than purely manual reduplication of her great writings con¬ sisted in making lithographic editions of them. This step was taken toward the mid-i8oo’s, Persia countenancing, if not actually admiring, the lithographic copies, since they implied a quota, at least, of dexterity of hand in the lithographer, and also because they might be approximately faithful replicas of manuscripts by famous caligraphers. But, as the 1800’s waned, Persia at length ac¬ cepted printing, in which espousal lay the death- knell of her beautiful books in the old style. Inasmuch as every flower must lade it is idle to dream ol Persia reverting to her bygone mode with book and brush. And waiving predictions as to the future of painting in Iran, the channel in which her art is likely to flow hereafter, the writer feels himself in the Orient once more. Evening is falling; mile after mile around all is yellow, the droves of camels differing no whit in hue from the sands around them. The clump of graceful palms turns almost to black, as does the shapely mosque, with dome and minarets. And alike trees and building loom against a sky of dusky blue, flecked with gold stars. Nowhere, surely, is nightfall love¬ lier than in the Near East. Nowhere else, surely, does evening bring a more entrancing harmony than this, of black and yellow, blue and gold. Was it not inevitable that the Persians should be great painters, rare color the genius of their painting? [Illustrations by courtesy of Koucbakji Frcres] MARCH 1922 / w e n ty -nine irareRnACioriAL SOTM© 1 ^IXP; T I UL - fPMNX k| GIL/TAVE Bequeathed to the Met¬ ropolitan Museum of Art by William H. Harriman, “Oedipus and the Sphinx” was first exhibited in the Salon of 1864, and marks the beginning of the best period of Moreau’s art. Although the possessor of exceptional originality, his artistic lineage can never¬ theless be traced back through Chasseriau to Ingres and Delacroix. Al¬ ways a dreamer and a mystic, and a reactionary from the practicalities of a scientific age, he turned to old myth and legend for themes which his fertile imagination elaborated in rich and intricate design. Oedipus has replied to the riddle of the Sphinx, “What is the being who, having but one voice, and, alone of all beings, has successively four feet, two feet, and three feet, and has less strength insomuch as it has more feet?” The answer, “Man,” according to the legend, destroys the Sphinx thi rty MARCH I Q 2 2 inreRHAnonAL “after the rain” by tokayama taikwan <5JheArl of the BleJITc/lpIN he group of paint¬ ings by contem¬ porary Japanese artists of the Nip¬ pon Bijits u - in, which has recently been ex¬ hibited in the museums of New York, Philadelphia, Washington, Cleveland and San Francisco, expresses for us a particular phase of the modern Japanese spirit. The stirring in the artistic consciousness oi the world, simultaneous in East and West, has found a peculiarly significant expression in Japan through this body of artists. Drawn together at first by the desire to preserve the art of their race from denationalization by Western influence, they are also opposed to a slavish imitation of their own classic style. In one sense reactionary, they are in another the advocates of a new liberalism. Their insistence is on a return to the spirit of their own people, and yet they stand for freedom of individual expression in response to the needs of the Japan of today. To understand the place they hold among their contemporaries, it is necessary to look back over the last fifty years to the beginning of the period which followed the Meiji Restoration. When the Tokugawa shogunate was ended and the Mikado was restored to his full authority in 1867, the period of peace that followed v/as favorable to the arts. A National Industrial Exhibition in 1877 made the first public recognition of the new activity. The study of antiquity which had marked the beginning of the century reasserted itself, with the result that the Imperial collection was classified and thrown open to students and scholars. A society which later became known as the Bi|itsu-kiokai, held exhibitions twice a year at U.yeno Park, Tokio, in which treasured “old masters” were shown, and young artists were encouraged to follow without deviation in the traditional style of the Kano and Tosa schools. Diametrically opposed to the cause of classic¬ ism were the advocates of Western methods, who had been growing in number since the seventeenth century, when Dutch traders introduced European art to Japan. The Dutch and Italian schools fell under their special observation, and in later times there has been a quick response to Impressionism and Post-Impressionism. The first Government School, which was closed in 1883, was under the Japan sends to America a collection representing her Renaissance in painting • ' 1 by HELEN COM/TOCK MARCH IQ22 t h irty-o ne mceRnAcionAL direction of Italian teachers. “catfish” by Later, in 1896, when European influence was in the ascendent, the Government ordered that the study of foreign painting and sculpture be added to the curriculum of the Government Art School at Uyeno. It was this order that caused Okakura Kakuzo, its director, and a certain group of sympathizers, to withdraw from the school. Their strong opposi¬ tion to foreign influence inspired them with the idea of forming a school which should preserve Japanese tradition. During the next two years their numbers were increased by the exponents of many schools who had a common bond in a devotion to the ideals of the past and yet re¬ sponded to the demands of a new individualism. They formed a colony in Kanaka, a suburb of Tokio, and it was here, under the leadership of Okakura, that the Nippon Bijitsu-in, or Fine Arts Institute of Japan, was formed. No tuition was charged, as the society was maintained by private subscription. Among their teachers were Hashi- moto Gaho, a former head of the Kano Academy; Shimomura Kansan, a follower of the Tosa manner, recruits from the Ukiyoye or Popular School, and Yokoyama Taikwan, an admirer of the J osas and of Korin. The fusing of elements which has resulted from their association has produced an art thoroughly original and at the same time purely Japanese. In 1906 the studios in Yanaka were abandoned maeda seison and the school was moved to Izura, a fishing village on the Pacific near Okakura’s estate. From this remote spot they sent their paintings to the national exhibitions, on whose juries they were repre¬ sented by Okakura, Gaho and Taikwan. In time it was felt that these exhibitions were breed¬ ing a certain type of art which discouraged origi¬ nality, and they decided to hold their own exhibi¬ tions. The first of these was in Tokio in 1914. Okakura’s death in 1913 was so severe a blow to his followers that it threatened to disrupt the institution. Not often is such critical insight, creative ability and philosophic understanding ol art in its relation to life combined with the wise leadership which Okakura exercised. But his followers rallied together, added to their number and returned to Tokio, where they have con¬ tinued their work. Eighteen painters and nine sculptors are now affiliated with the association. The paintings that are now traveling over the United States are twenty-four in number. Most of them are characterized by richness of color, the two that are illustrated being among a minority in monochrome. A comparison with classic examples reveals no sudden departure from the spirit and method that are inherent in Japan¬ ese art. Rather they are a continuation along the lines marked out by the ideals of their race and are the result of a movement toward color and decoration which Korin and Sotatsu inaugurated thirty-two MARCH 1922 mreRnAcionAL StffliM© three centuries ago. In their approach toward nature they are free and sincere. They combine conventionalism and naturalism in the fluency of line which is characteristically Japanese. Their modernism is revealed in the enthusiastic experi¬ ment with form in color which is absorbing the artists of all lands today, though their expression of it is without the slightest taint of Western in¬ fluence. “After the Rain,” by Yokoyama Taikwan, illustrated at the beginning of this article, is rich in the subtle gradations of tone that the Japa¬ nese evoke from ink and brush. The suggestion of billowy form in the rising mists, and the vary¬ ing intensity of shadow along the mountain slopes are handled with the ease of a patiently acquired simplicity. The same artist uses color with equal power in “Early Morning,” representing the summit of Mount Fuji above a sea of clouds. Deep blue, pale golds, and green unite in a har¬ mony of color and add a living quality to beauty of line. In “A Shinto Shrine,” the deep, even blue of the sky and the green of pines mass the color in the upper part of the picture, while snow- covered slopes in the lower part hold their own in vivid whiteness. Ochi Shokwan contributes two paintings of exceeding beauty in composition and color, “Calm Sea at Evenfall” and “Farmhouse in Autumn Twilight.” The former has for its theme a boat with motionless sails drifting down a stream among mountain peaks touched with warm gold by the setting sun. The other is beautiful for its strange green-blue foliage banked against an ex¬ quisitely drawn house whose open door permits a glimpse of the interior. Maeda Seison’s decorative “Catfish” is illus¬ trated here. “Running Deer,” by Tomita Keison, is admirable for its effect of movement. Among other subjects are a Japanese lady rouging her lips; a study dominated by the vivid green of iris leaves; and a white cat under a delicate vine. Side by side with the return to the basic prin¬ ciples of Japanese painting for which the Bijitsu-in stands, the influence of the West continues to make itself felt, and there are many who insist that the followers of Cezanne and Van Gogh are the leaders in Japan today. But for those whose love of Japanese art springs from a sympathy with the standards which have persisted since the distant Ashikaga period down to the present day, the return of the Bijitsu-in to the ideals of their race promises a deeply significant expression of the modern Japanese spirit. r J--L. Forain, the illus¬ trator of the war, the engraver, the lithographer, is known the world over, but, even in Paris, Forain the painter is but slightly known, and the artistic influ¬ ences of his life, with the full achievement that has resulted, are ignored by ail but a few comrades and amateurs. This is mainly due to the singular fact that an ensemble of the Forain paintings has never been exhibited in Paris or elsewhere. The exposition of June, 1921, in the gallery of the rue de la Ville-l’Eveque included merely some twenty canvases, the importance of which, however, prompted M. Armand Dayot, director general oi the fine arts of France and founder-editor of the quasi-official review, L’ Art et les Artistes, to sug¬ gest that a comprehensive exposition of Forain’s paintings, together with selected drawings and engravings, be held at the Ecole des Beaux Arts. A signal honor when one reflects on the difficulty of penetrating into those sacred precincts. When in 1888 Armand Dayot and a group of comrades in the face of violent opposition organized an exhibit at the Ecole of the water-colors of Gavarni, the sepias of Henri Monnier and the paintings, then quite unknown, of Daumier, it caused a scandal. Fortunately protestation changed into apo¬ theosis and the very dignitaries who had at first objected, won by the sumptuousness of the works, put Daumier into the Louvre. M. Dayot recounts this episode in his preface for the cata¬ logue of the Ville-I’Eveque exhibit, with the hint to the authorities that since 1888 they have gained the reputation for “enlightened eclecticism.” M. Dayot’s opinion of what such an artistic event will accomplish is a just estimate of Forain’s position in contemporary French art. “It would be,” he says, “a manifestation of salutary reach. Moralists would rejoice in it, and artists would find in it invaluable lessons, because the technique of the painter, obtained by long and persistent studies, by infinite research, based on a sincerity no ephemeral fashion can disturb, would there reveal itself with unexpected brilliance and a rare power of instruction.” He continues with an observation that indicates ‘how the older critics regard prevalent conditions in French art and the Great satirist of Parisian life , whom the world war stirred to pity, “is always witty, often cruel — and invariably just ” • • by LOUI/E GEMARD CAM MARCH I922 thir ty - n i n e mteRnAtionAL racial significance ot Forain’s achievement. “This exposition oi the works of an incontestable master would stand, by the powerful and witty clarity of its so French expression, as a useful protest against the chaotic melee in which at this moment our school of painting is so pitifully floundering, between the mortal lessons of an antiquated in¬ struction and a gross eccentricity, that one would say was inspired by a clever and mysterious pro¬ paganda, eager to destroy our most beautiful national patrimony, that is to say, all the qualities native to our traditional taste.” With a distinction and force unequalled by any other living French artist, Forain maintains the attitude of satire, mockery, peculiar to the French school, the sense of elegance, of the purely worldly, and of Catholic mysticism. Since the war, the element of the tragic has been added to his comedy of manners, enforcing the religious and emotional aspect. Ffe shows his “claw” in everything he does, his bitter, mordant mentality, the inspira¬ tions of which spring immediately from hatred and contempt, the mark of temperament by which the racial material of his art is stamped and moulded. The virility and interest of his work demonstrates LE RETOUR AU FOYER BY FORAIN that the ecole jranqoise oj Fragonard, Daumier, Ga- varni, as a tradition, undistorted by the radicalism of the moderns, still hands down living wealth to its heir, who out of it all creates his own eminently contemporary estate. As a tribute to the genius of the great satirist, L’ Art et les Artistes has just issued a “Forain” number, in which M. Gustave Geffroy, president of the Academy Goncourt and director of the Gobelins, tells the story of the development of the man and Ins work. M. Geffroy himself is one ot the comrades of Forain from the days ot Manet and the cafe de la Nouvelle-Athenes, and enjoys the distinction, now that the ordeal is past, of being one of the few persons who sat to Cezanne for a portrait and, further, of alienating him — this was too frequent in Cezanne’s sitters to be a dis¬ tinction — before it was quite finished by discussing M. Clemenceau with enthusiasm. Speaking of the Master of Aix. in 1875 he looked over Forain s shoulder in the Louvre, when the youth was en¬ gaged in copying a Chardin, and he said to him¬ self, as he afterward told M. Vollard, “That young man will arrive, because he studies drawing in forty MARCH 192 inceRnACionAL OTM© LA RELEVE BY FORAIN form.” When, overpowered by Manet’s leadership, he deserted the reunions of La Nouvelle-Athenes, he cried, pointing out Forain, “That youngster already knows how to put a fold into a garment!” The history M. Geffroy recounts is significant. J.-L. Forain, occupying a house in the beautiful Passy quarter of Paris, where for twenty-five years he has lived with his wife, herself an exquisite pastellist, and his son, talented in drawing, began his career in artistic Bohemia; but by incessant work, as well as joking, he struggled up from poverty and misery into journalism. Entirely by his own efforts with the pencil, the etcher’s needle, the lithographer’s stone, he acquired means, a comfortable home, and bourgeoisie. Elis years of apprenticeship began early. The love of drawing was always with him, and as a boy of twelve and fourteen he faithfully visited the Louvre with his notebook. Here he made an acquaintance whose double influence has per¬ sisted throughout his life, the professor of drawing, M. Jacquesson de la Chevreuse, who was so struck by the child’s copies that he arranged with his parents to give him lessons. At the same time, M. Jacquesson de la Chevreuse, who along with drawing professed the most assiduous piety, be¬ longing to brotherhoods that went from parish to parish during periods of perpetual adoration, took young Forain to all the churches of Paris and even to those of the bardieue. A second encounter, also in the Louvre, was with the sculptor, Carpeaux, who discovered the boy copying Michael Angelo’s head of a satyr. The result was an invitation to work in Carpeaux’s studio, faubourg St. Honore. The day Forain called he found Gustave Geffroy present with Paul Hervieu; but the master was out. Forain took clay that he saw there and modeled a figurine which he left with his name and address. Car¬ peaux, who was at that time drawing master to the prince imperial, wrote to his new protege, “It is magnificent, but you will not repeat it for thirty years. During that time you must learn and no longer divine." And so, Forain began to “learn” under Carpeaux, who sent him out into the street to hunt for a blind man under a porte-cochere in order that the boy might “realize” through observation one of the figures in a drawing he was at work upon. MARCH 922 J orty-one mceRnAcionAL staioa© Forain continued to frequent the Louvre and also drew from prints in the National Library. Here, quite by accident, he chanced on a portfolio of Goya. “It vvas for me,” he confided to M. Geffroy, “a thunder-bolt.” Such are the origins and the studies of Forain the draughtsman. In painting he made his first essay in the studio of Andre Gill. These studies were interrupted bv the siege of Paris and the Commune and later by military service in even then lacking. No the verdict , , , . r , . B\ FORAIN doubt his fancy whetted itself on the wit of Manet, expert in definitions of bitter satire, and the judgments of Degas, delivered in a form that was light yet peremptory. The critics, Paul Mantz, Albert Wolff and Huys- mans, were there, also George Moore, when in Paris, and the artists, Toulouse-Lautrec and Louis Legrand, both of whose work has something in common with one and another side of Forain’s. 1874-75- In the years that immediately followed, Forain found his true masters and comrades — Edouard Manet, Edgar Degas, the etcher Marcellin Des- boutin. Meetings that were at first by chance, developed into regular reunions that finally took place each evening at the cafe de la Nouvelle- Athenes, Place Pigalle, Montmartre. Each one of the artists, called Bohemians, had his regular habits. Desboutin left his friends at half past nine; Manet at eleven. Degas was more easily persuaded to stay and talk. Forain was the “urchin” of the meetings. He charmed his elders by his “blague,” in which the sharp point was not Forain was received but once in the Salon of those days. In the exhibits of the Independents his name appears in that of 1879, held at 28 Avenue de I’Opera, with the names of Degas, Mary Cassatt, Monet, Pissarro, the Bracque- monds. In 1880 he was with the same group, with the exception of Monet and two others, at 10 rue cles Pyramides, to which were added Gauguin, Guillaumin, Berthe Morisot, Raffaelli. And in 1881 he took part in the sixth exposition of the Independents at Nadar’s, 35 boulevard des Capucines. In the seventh, 1882 show, he chd not appear; and from this time on the group that had been so compact began to disperse. When J orty-two march 1922 mceRnAcionAL T “the tribunal” their last show was given in b\ forain 1886, Forain’s work was not included. In 1890 the first exhibit of a collection of his drawings was held in the gallery Bousod- Valadon, boulevard Montmartre, presided over by the brother of Vincent Van Gogh. When Forain exhibited with the group in 1879, Huysmans compared him with the artists of the official Salon and was the first probably to discern Forain’s contribution to the representa¬ tion of Parisian life. He pronounced, “There is more elegance, more modernity, in the slightest sketch of a woman by Forain than in all the canvases of Bouveret and the other manufac¬ turers of the falsely modern.” He said further of Forain’s water-colors that they were little marvels of “elegant Parisian reality.” In 1880 Huysmans celebrated Forain as a curious painter of certain corners of contemporary life, and declared, while attributing to him the sense of soirees mondaines — the gesture of the fashionable and correct at their pleasures — that he was even more spontaneous and original when he interpreted the various types of the women of the demi-monde, “who had found in him their veritable painter.” In Huysmans’ “L’Art Moderne,” which was published by Char- pentier in 1883, one may follow the further development of this conception ot Forain’s work. In “Certains,” published by Stock in 1889, he placed Forain with this conclusion, “Added to his qualities of acute observation, of deliberate, rapid, summary drawing, of giving significance to the slightest appearance, boring beneath the surface of things by a single stroke, he has brought into art the sagacious irony of a mocking Parisian.” Forain and Huysmans established a friendship that endured until the death of the author ol “A rebours.” Amusing anecdotes are told of then- comradeship, their witty invectives against the modern social system. When Huysmans retired to the Benedictines and gave himself up to religi¬ ous mysticism, Forain paid him frequent visits. Beneath their official masks of “Mocking Pari¬ sians” they were both given to devotional con¬ templation and the practice of the Roman Catholic rituals. Before marking his place as a painter, Forain had a long and brilliant career in drawing. But he march 1922 forty-tb ree mceRnACionAL 3MM© did not succeed all at once, M. Geffroy tells us, in penetrating into the reserved precincts of a news¬ paper. Armed with a letter of introduction, he showed his notebook to Pierre Veron, director of Charivari. Pierre Veron, after casually turning the leaves of the book, gave it back to Forain with the remark, “There is nothing in these for me!” 1 The artist was more fortunate elsewhere and before Jong was collaborating with some twenty or more of the most important newspapers and periodicals of Paris, besides bringing out in 1889-90 the Fifre, his own paper, which ran for fifteen numbers. In all the papers and reviews that made the reputation of Forain the draughtsman and the inventor of legends, his intrepid wit attacked every appearance considered respectable and every vice hypocritical or avowed. He especially made his butt the financier, the politician, the self-indulgent middle-aged man of means with a paunch. This fat, respectable and withal low personage is the hero of the Forain comedy, who appears in both the black and white and in the paintings. His author pursues him in all the divagations of his leisure with a remorseless and cynical index, which also points out the head-waiters, the servants, the actresses, the dancers, associated with his dissipa¬ tions. Against him he plays his full denunciatory force, and though, like Gavarni, he is expert at analyzing the knavery that may reside in the feline grace of woman, nevertheless, in the opinion of M. GefTroy, with the ex- ‘ ‘ LA FEMME AU CHIEN” ception of certain really BY FORAIN frightful examples of the human female at her worst, Forain has not physically mistreated woman. Even where her associations are of the most sordid, he portrays in her an instinctive charm; and even where he aims at exposing the lowest tricksters of the species, he cannot refrain Irom marking the supple beauty of the body, the delicious ingenuity, or the amusing cunning, of the features. Though the great world has also undergone the ravages of his satire, he has revealed himself, each time he wished, as one who could note justly the polish of society. We see the various strands of his interest in every genre he undertakes, but it is more directly, perhaps, because of the medium and the journalistic purpose that the etchings, the drawings, the lithographs, with their always sar¬ castic legends, interpret the underworld and the shadowland where the world of so-called respecta¬ bility meets it. The entire work of Forain is immense. He has issued collections of his satirical drawings under (< ,, the titles, “La Comedie BEHIND THE SCENES . . ,, by forain Parisienne (Charpen- f or ty-Jou r MARCH 9 2 2 inceRnAcionAL tier - Fasquelle) : “Doux “dans les couloir de r-, ,, ,ni \ ,, . ,, l’oPERa” - BY FORAIN rays (Plon); Album de Forain,” with a preface by Alphonse Daudet (Simonis Empis); “La Vie” (Juven); “Nous, Vous, Eux” (La Vie Parisienne); “Album Forain” with a preface by Maurice Talmeyr (Plon); “L’Album” (Tallandier), and “J.-L. Forain,” by Henri Mantz (Figaro Illustre). He is now issuing two volumes, “ De la Marne au Rhin,” which will include his drawings of the war, 19 14-19. Besides the collections enumerated above, there are two important sources for the docu¬ mentation of Forain the draughtsman. They are concerned with his most durable productions, his observations fixed bv the copper plate or the lithographic stone. In the two volumes published by M. Marcel Guerin (Floury) and devoted, the first in two parts to Forain the etcher, the second to Forain the lithographer, we have the main aspects of the talent of the artist from his first etchings for the illustration of “Marthe” and “Crocpiis Parisiens,” by J. K. Huysmans, to the evocations of the “Pieta” and the “Disciples of Emmaus,” by way of the cafe-concerte, the dress¬ ing-rooms of actresses and dancers, private rooms in restaurants, gambling halls, in summing up, M. Geffroy says, “There are in these etchings masterpieces of the genre, dating from his first years of work — grimacing apparitions bitten in with oblique strokes, profound blacks, an entire modern life seen in night¬ mare with accents of PROJETS D AVENIR BY FORAIN raillery and caricature. There are also images of profound sentiment such as the “Trepassee,” where we see a man’s head weeping at the edge of a bed beside a corpse already rigid, and the “Ton- nelle” or “C’est find” (It is finished), the image of separation as hard as death, the two lovers joining hands across the table, he with desperate ardor, she with a laisser-aller already indifferent. It is of the etchings that M. Armand Dayot writes, “Without doubt in their magnificent and concise statement they evoke the genius of Rembrandt.” Like Daumier, Forain was always a painter. Bound to earn his living by drawing for the news¬ papers, he at first satisfied in water-color his desire to paint. His oil of the Salon of 1884, “Au buffet,” gives us- the characteristic of the first period in its clear, delicate hues marked by a drawing a little bit dry and hard, but where the gilt of observation is already incisive. We have beginning here and developing into a middle period, the unforgettable scenes of the foyer of the opera and of the police court, always witty, profound, often cruel and invariably just. These themes have caused many to attribute to him an imitation of the invention and the technique of Daumier and Degas, but as Armand Dayot truthfully remarks, “the similitude of the general theme alone exists.” The spirit and the expression of that spirit is certainly not the same in Daumier as in Forain. The arresting animation of line in the former, the violent intensity of the march 1922 forty-five mceRnACionAL scam© initiator, cannot be con¬ founded with Forain’s form, which is the form rather of a virtuoso than of a composer. Inspired by his pre¬ decessor, he is already classical, and his work in spite of its drama is essentially calm. This calm belongs to the man who is not agonized by the necessity of forging from the beginning the instrument by which lie com¬ municates his thoughts and emo¬ tions. The instrument is at hand to be evolved and adapted; his adventure into the unknown has a sure guide. A student of actresses and dancers, an habitue of the opera and the theatre, he owes much to the theatrical mise-en-scene, much more I should say than does the fiery Daumier. From “Au buffet” of 1884 to “Le retour du Calvaire” of 1920, even the casual observer can trace in Forain the development of the skilled stage-director, preoccupied with the effect of the tableau. Between his dancers and those of Degas there is little in common beyond the bare fact that they are shown on the stage, in their dressing- rooms and so on. Forain’s drawing and that of Degas are entirely different expressions ot men both with pronounced temperaments but opposite. Forain much more nearly approaches Toulouse- Lautrec in intention. The painting, “La femme au chien” (The Woman with a Dog), gives the feeling that the former is very close to the latter in aim and means, for the movement of the line, here as elsewhere, compromises with the purely aesthetic end for sake of likeness. There is thus more conscious psychology in Forain than in Degas, and more obvious anecdote. Degas is never dramatic, he rarely “composes,” his con¬ cern, as far as it would be possible, is purely one of medium, and his actual composition in the sense of the division of his canvas is always unexpected. But in Forain we I eel the loreordained composi¬ tion. It is wise, imposing, beautiful, but on the whole it is a stage setting by which he suggests a dialogue, and both dialogue and setting are very much what we expect, knowing the character of the satire, for it is fairly traditional, and the type of scene the tradition for its setting leads us to foresee. With Degas the aim has been so purely pictorial, dependent on the eye and the technical means of the artist, that the result has been a strange, personal statement, unlike and far from the statements of litera¬ ture, for it is a message bound within the limits of line, the plastic sim¬ plification of the two dimensional plane. One sees clearly by comparing a series of works by the two men that both by the hand¬ ling and by the so-called subject, the dancers and their environment, there is space between them. Forain is always a moralist. Unlike Degas, whose temperament realizes itself in the form of his art, his realizes itself moralizing: medium is a means. Forain’s religious paintings are fundamentally related to those of the war, and in general belong with them to his present period. This last work marks a change in him that is a surprise to his friends and to those who know his career. Before the war he was called the “terrible” Forain, and was said to be in his political battles, as for in¬ stance in the Dreyfus case, positively “ferocious.” At any rate, he brought to bear on any matter that enlisted his partisanship the entire force of his intellect and his art — a deadly instrument when directed against his enemies. But he followed the war from 1915-19, the trenches, the battlefields, the armistice, the entries into Metz, Strasbourg, Mayence. War put her stamp upon him — twice, in fact, in boyhood and in middle age. In speaking of the work that has resulted from this mellowing of his nature, M. Dayot says, “ The soul of the great satirist, which up to this time seemed to certain ones, though they deceived themselves, inaccessible to any sentiment of pity, was tortured by the most acute suffering in the presence of the cruel reality ol the subject. Never was the horror of war more powerfully summarized than m these canvases bathed with livid light, where blood lloats like vapor. They are scenes of smoking ruins, Dantesque landscapes, in which heroic deeds are performed amid cries of wrath and pain. And here, notwithstanding the poignant lyricism of the interpretation, is no falsely romantic concession. It is truly of these paintings of war that one can say that the beauty ol the work is made from sublimated reality. Beside them the most picturesque engraving of Callot, the tragic aquatints of Goya, are merely beautiful anecdotal prints.” Illustrations by courtesy of Kraushaar Galleries , New York , and M. Armand Dayot , Paris. LE GROS CIGAR BY FORAIN fort y-six MARCH 922 mceRDACtonAL SOTM® GUT BELL/ PV WIN/L0W HOME/ Reproduced in colors on the front cover of this issue This master work by the great American marine painter, which formerly belonged to the Edward T. Stotesbury collection of Philadelphia, has recently been acquired by a connoisseur from the John Levy Galleries of New York, for $50,000, the highest price ever paid for a modern American picture. It ranks with “The Gulf Stream” in the Metropolitan Museum, “All’s Well” in the Boston Museum and “The Life Line” in the George W. Elkins collection in Philadelphia, as supreme expressions of Homer’s individualistic art. march 1922 forty-seven mceRnAcionAL WALL TAP ELL or l lie OLDEN TIME ^ ow suggestive of the period when the Colonial dames trod the stately min¬ uet or pirouetted through the Roger de Coverly are the scenic wall papers of yesterday! In imagination one almost listens for the rustle of the brocaded gowns, views the powdered hair and patches, as the fair dame courtesies to her partner in the spacious drawing room of the late seventeenth or early eighteenth century home. There is no phase of interior decoration that appeals more vividly or romantically than do these quaint relics of the past. Unfortunately they are fast fading away through deterioration. Per¬ chance the consistent setting of the charming old- fasioned room may enhance their artistic value; white wainscot, such an effective background for the choice maho- room in parker kemble house, . MARBLEHEAD, MASS., FORMERLY gany furniture, owned by colonel lee, show- stiff-backed to be ing the “mosque of omar ’’set r • OF WALL PAPER sure, but in per¬ fect sympathy with the surroundings. Particularly do they appeal at the present time, for has there not been demanded a revival of this type of wall hanging, brought about by the popularity of the modern colonial home? There are still in existence genuine antiques in wall paper and they far exceed the reproductions in color value; especially since so many of the latter are totally unlike the original, both in tone and character. There are, however, charming examples that have been copied from old-time blocks that are almost, if not quite, equal to the originals. The best examples now in existence date back to a period beginning a quarter of a century before the Revolution and covering about seventy-five years. These include pastoral representations where are painted high holiday tones of vivid green, long lengths of sunshine, falling athwart beds ol flowers; there are graceful maidens coyly Hashing ardent glances that pierce the lover’s heart; artificial lakes where islands clothed in misty jorty-eight MARCH I_922 tmreRnACionAL ROOM IN THE J. P. LYMAN green disport them- HOUSE, ASHBY, MASS., SHOW- , ll i r ing a very rare “paris selves; tail oaks and monuments” set of lofty elms unmatched WALL PAPER . T • t , • . in height, while bubble-white moons float in an azure sky. These are but a few of the many that have been indelibly stamped on my mind and which loom up at me so vividly from the past. In imagination I am seated in a high back chair which had been brought over by my emigrant ancestor. It was placed by the side of the fireplace with its McIntyre mantel. A cheery wood fire burns on the hearth in great grandmother’s parlor and I sit dreamingly watching the dancing flame while I listen to the story oft repeated con¬ cerning the pictorial paper that is hung upon the wall. It was brought home about 1800 by great¬ grandfather, who was a merchant prince in my native town, to hang on the drawing room of the large square house to which he was to bring his bride. Great care has been taken of this paper and its color scheme is as bright as when it was placed there over a hundred years ago. These old pictorial papers are now being eagerly sought after, for there are only a few that have never been used. The late war has seriously 1 1 ibji nd tea ufiful were trie O cen ic clt\oo ins in our Qreaiz-Cfra nJmouwrs homes ^ MARY HARR0D NORXHEND crippled the output of reproductions. To be sure the Paul Revere, done in soft grays, are still to be purchased, but the many colored pictorial ones are rarely found in the market. Occasionally we come across one which brings as high as $1,500. The blocks for their making are still in existence, sometimes as many as two thousand being neces¬ sary to complete a single pattern, but the workmen are not to be had these days who are capable of finishing them. Many of the eighteenth century designs were drawn by famous artists and it is these that em¬ body the choicest traditions of their period. It is really lamentable when you realize that both the art collector and the historian have not preserved more than a few of the rare specimens. So costly are they that in many instances they MARCH 92 2 for ty - n i n e mceRnACtonAL are mounted on cloth and stretched over wooden frames rather than being pasted on the wall; this insures their being rolled up and carried away should the house pass out of the family. The cost of papering a room with them can be estimated when one finds in an old advertisement: “Twenty-four sheets of China paper with figure and gilt ornaments, at twenty- four Iivres a sheet.” In American money $4.80. Today they are much higher than this. The origin of the first wall paper is not known, but we are sure that when Columbus discovered America the walls of many Spanish houses were covered with squares of stamped and painted leather. Other European countries later copied this peninsular fashion. The first wall decoration that was used in England was composed of the tanned skins of animals; later experienced artists worked designs upon tapestry. They were made in comparatively narrow strips and worked like a curtain, up and down upon rollers. Their use was to shut out draughts and hide unsightly walls. At the present time “tapestry paper” means an attempt to reproduce the effect of cross-stitch done in silk or worsted upon appropriate material. Painted canvas was used as a cheaper sub¬ stitute for tapestry, as was dyed cloth. From the “ THE HUNT - STARTING FROM THE CASTLE GATE ” ONE OF A SET OF WALL PAPERS IN THE ANDREW SAFFORD HOUSE, SALEM, MASS. fifty MARCH 1922 inceROAcionAL records of the past it is doubtful if paper hanging was'in use in England before the sixteenth century, coming then from Spain, Holland and the Far East. They were used sparsely, for the people were a conservative nation and did not take readily to new fashions. The coverings were made in blocks instead of, as today, in long rolls, and the shading was done by hand, requiring the utmost care. Charming tones of red, blue and brown produced quiet color effects, needing from fifteen to twenty sets of blocks for the printing. Holland was the first to establish wall paper factories and was followed by France and England. The designs were copied from Chinese tapestries or Indian cotton. Flock papers, imitating the old Florentine and Genoese cut velvets, were also made. This gave to the surface a velvety appearance, produced by first printing the design with a gummy substance, sprinkling afterwards with fine particles sheared from woolen cloths and dyed in various colors. The middle of the eighteenth century saw noted artists interested in producing new and original ideas, their inspiration being taken from nature, literature or mythology. By this means panoramic landscapes were wrought out so large that some of them covered a whole room without a THE HUNT - DEPARTURE FROM THE CASTLE ONE OF A SET OF WALL PAPERS IN THE ANDREW SAFFORD HOUSE, SALEM, MASS. MARCH 1922 f ijty-one inceRnAcionAL repeat. It required an enormous number of blocks for this purpose. Take, as an instance, the Cupid and Psyche paper composed of twelve separate panels. This required no less than fifteen hundred blocks in its making. One of the most popular subjects is Fenelon’s version of the story of Telemachus, which is shown in the old Knapp house at Newburyport. In color scheme it shows a background of clear, pea¬ cock blue, scarlet and soft tones of green combined with black and white. The maker of this is unknown, but he surely was a mas¬ ter of the art. The figures of Calypso and her nymphs are exquisitely graceful and the landscape and architectural details, while florid in character, display a rich invention and fine feeling for com¬ position. We find this same paper in the Lindens, General Gage’s head¬ quarters at Danvers, Massachusetts. Though probably directoire in type, it was not hung until into the sixties. There is an interesting story con¬ cerning this paper, for when the house was owned by Mr. Peabody, one of Salem’s merchant princes, he came upon a wall paper factory in Europe where there w'as a complete sam¬ ple set. Then he remem¬ bered that in the old Forrester house, now used as the Salem Club, during the time of his grand¬ father’s regime, there was a similar one on the wall. L For sentimental reasons he purchased and had sent home this paper, which today is found in the upper hall of the mansion, now occupied by Mr. Ward Thoran. In the J. P. Lyman house at Ashby, Massa¬ chusetts, we find a most unusual paper. This is the “Paris Monuments.’’ It was imported in sections, each one of which was about eighteen inches wide, it requiring thirty strips to cover the entire room. It is as Iresh in coloring as when first placed on the wall early in the nineteenth century. There is no repeat in tl^e subject which commences in front of the Invalides, a view being shown of the Bourbon Palace. We pass on beyond the Tuileries and the Arc de Triomphe until we come finally upon Saint Stephen’s — a stately panorama. CUPID AND PSYCHE WALL PAPER IN THE ANDREW SAFFORD HOUSE, SALEM, MASS. The historic “Pilgrimage to the Mosque of Omar” on the Bosphorus is in Lieutenant Parker Kemble’s house in Marblehead, which was built about 1743 and was occupied by Colonel William Raymond Lee, of Revolutionary fame. Many of the reproductions of today are Chinese Chippendale in design, depicting groups of Oriental figures walking in a garden. They are fijty-two MARCH 1922 mceRnAcionAL delicately framed by fantastic trellises, from which are suspended urns filled with flowers and foliage. The colors are red, green and brown upon a black background. 1 n direct contrast to the gorgeous Chinese Chippendale is a very interesting scenic paper that is shown in the Colonel Livingston mansion at Irvington-on-the-HucIson. It portrays Mary ONE OF THE “ADVENTURES OF TELEMACHUs” SET IN THE OLD KNAPP HOUSE, NF.WBURYPORT, MASS. and Her Little Lamb, strolling through charming pathways where doves are hovering over them. Garlands of roses and branches of superb foliage, together with exquisite scrolls and festoons, enclose the scene, which is either gray upon a white background or else is shown in old pastoral colors upon a gray basis. Hunting scenes imported from Antwerp were very popular. One of the best examples is in the Safford house at Salem, Massachusetts. Com¬ mencing with the huntsmen leaving the castle gate it follows the story of the chase until the capture of the brush. Scenes from Paris were much in vogue during Washington’s administra¬ tion as well as that of John Adams. For was not France in high favor during that period? Rarely is an American subject shown, and yet at Portsmouth, New Hamp¬ shire, there is one of unusual interest, which was designed tor a home in New Orleans. It was made in Paris in the early nineteenth century. All around the room there are displayed in topographical sequence the Mississippi River, New Orleans, the Natural Arch in Virginia, Niagara Falls and West Point. There are steamers plying up and down the river, unloading their cargo at the pier, while groups of American In¬ dians execute a war dance on a nearby bank. Over the fireplace we behold Niagara Falls, and dusky groups of African origin are scattered around the room . About 1820 Seth G. Macy purchased a house which had been built by a sea captain, and which had a very interesting paper, it being brought home by the captain from one of his long voyages. It is printed from wooden blocks on rice paper in shades ol gray and finished by hand. Time has changed the color to the soft yellow brown ol an old engraving.. The designs are evidently the work of a European artist, but the rice paper and hand finishing stamp it as being a Chinese production. Those who could not afford to import wall papers, painted their walls, either in one color or maybe they stencilled a simple pattern in imita¬ tion of French paper, each one of the panels containing a picture either large or small. I he chimney breast received especial attention, this MARCH 922 JiJly-three mceRnAcionAL SOTOl® “ MARY AND HER LITTLE LAMB ” A QUAINT THEME being regarded as the real center of the room. In the old time wall papers there was real meaning. They expressed distinct ideas, a single theme being often elaborated so as to decorate a whole room. This is particularly true of the Don Quixote specimen which is shown in a Salem home, after having been stored away in an attic for forty years before it was hung. This is one of the three choicest wall papers to be seen in the country. The coloring is in tones of brown upon a creamy background. Jn studying these relics of the past we cannot help being impressed by the fact that we have CHINESE CHIPPENDALE WALL PAPER “A GARDEN SCENE ” been unable even with the advance of science to improve or equal the tones. The methods were devised and perfected by Mongol craftsmen hun¬ dreds of years ago. Each color was printed separ¬ ately and allowed to dry before proceeding with the next. This process gave it full depth and purity of tone. It is the linking of the old scenic wall paper with that of the twentieth century that gives it intense interest and there is no more fascinating task than to study the designs and compare them with the old time tapestry and the reproductions of the present day. fifty -Jour MARCH g 2 2 inceRnAoonAL scam© “bulls” BY RANDALL DAVEY &JL ©W^RANDALL DAVEY andall Davey, H e went into the wilder - artist, who left New ness, held communion York city three there — and gained a years ago to hve m simpler vision of life dn/ New Mexico, was a very different personality from WILLIAM B. MCCDRMICK the artist Randall Davey who returned to New York to give his first exhibition, since his hegira, in the Montross Gallery in Febru¬ ary and March. Of old, to paraphrase the words of St. Paul, he looked through Velasquez darkly. But now he looks man and nature face to face. And the contemplation of man and nature, freed from the artificialities of city life, of art exhibitions, and of the (unconscious, perhaps) domination ol various artistic personalities, has caused him to put off many of his former mannerisms and emerge from the high solitudes of Santa Fe a “new Randall Davey” in view and deed. There is nothing revolutionary about Mr. Davey’s art in this new phase. It simply reflects growth. And this growth is plainly seen in his simpler, more personal vision; the wider scope and heightening of his color perceptions; the finer understanding of human nature; the increasing interest in other mediums than oil, as shown by his very remarkable water colors and his first complete “set” of etchings. In the cultural sense, as well as in the mere art of daily living, there is an austerity about life in places remote from civilization’s supreme illustration of gathering up all these things into a great city. But this austerity of life has its rewards in that it makes men think and talk and act in a more direct and simple fashion. Monastic life taught this to the world centuries ago, and our own Thoreau pressed in the lesson in another form of art. This feeling of austerity, the effect of solitude in its workings toward simplicity, is most felt in Mr. Davey’s portraits and flower studies. That the old Spanish influence is at" work, to a degree, is only natural in some of these portraits since march 1922 Ji Jty-seven mceRnACioriAL SCUDR© some of his subjects were of Spanish descent and the region of Santa Fe still shows the imprint of the early Spanish conquerors. But to stand before the bust portrait oi “Sehora Garcia,” the second evocation of this subject, is to feel that only the abiding elements of the great Spanish masters remain and that this work has been lifted up, made distinctly personal, by truth to such local facts as color and costume, type and char¬ acter. Lovely as ‘‘Sehora Garcia” is in color, that quality must remain secondary to portrayal of character as indicated bv the formal attitude, the pursed-up lips, the grave regard of the eyes, undimmed in their brilliancy in spite of the marks of age. The Senora’s gown ot white-and-blue is a triumph of naivete, a complete illustration of the changeless grace of the peasant costume no matter where it is met. Another Spanish type is presented in the “Man in a Red Shirt,” a canvas that shows Mr. Davey’s increasing command of color in its graver tones. If the ascetic character of the man’s face recalls El Greco, this is only an incident of recurrence of type in a country still strongly dominated by the CHRISTINE HUGHES BY RANDALL DAVEY racial influence of Spain. And how marked is that influence can be noted again in the “Old Man Sitting by a Hill” who might never have moved out of sight ot a mountain village in Spain. The immobility of peas¬ ant age, the keen eyes of moun¬ tain folk, the decent tidiness ol his attire, the grip of the hands on top of his stick, all these personal attributes are noted and set down in terms that show how thoroughly the artist felt and understood what he was painting. But still higher flights in his rising power are reached in the portrait of “Christine Hughes.” It is one of the mysteries of the recurrence of marked national types that this American girl of Irish descent should so strongly resemble the faces we see in the portraits of Diirer and Holbein. But it is much more interesting to note how the artist, whose work in the past has been too commonly associated with quite another SENORA GARCIA . BY RANDALL DAVEY tradition, fifty -eight MARCH 1922 tnreRnAcionAL should have risen to the unformed sim- “my house” precision of their gradations, the dis- plicity of his subject’s character and uv RANDALL DAVI:'1 similar tactile qualities so firmly felt represented it with the equally direct simplicity of the early German school to which he never was reputed to be devoted. To that form of realism he has added the sophistication of a later day in his treatment of the fabrics of his subject’s blouse and the old Spanish chair in which she sits. In this portrait Mr. Davey’s color reaches a height ol brilliancy that is only equalled by the ringing notes he achieves in his resplendent flower pieces. The response of our painter to the universal appeal of flowers, for their decorative and colorful importance, is shown in his latest work. “Art disposes to virtue,” we were told long since, and by this is included the merit of good workmanship as well as of good morals. The virtue of sound painting is found in such an appealing and gor¬ geous canvas as the “Flowers” that is reproduced in colors on another page. It is found in the red and yellow dahlias themselves, in the time-polished top of the mahogany table, in the strip of white linen, the two old quartos and the red lacquer box. The happy differentiation in the three red tones of the box, the flowers and the table-top, the line all these make for a work that is in the front rank of flower painting. Sheer simplicity was aimed at in another of these canvases, garden flowers in a lustrous black pottery bowl, and it is arrived at by a means as direct as the intention. Of the world he lived in during the last three years the visitor has notations in the canvases entitled “My House” and “Bulls.” Interest in the human scene may be gratified by the pink-washed front of the ancient structure in which Mr. Davev and his family make their home and by the two figures with their horses in the foreground, horses being one of the absolute necessities of life in that section of New Mexico. Curiosity may naturally be aroused by the ornamentation on the house- front. This is not a flagrant imitation of Gauguin, but merely an artist’s economical substitute for two windows that he felt the facade needed for architectural balance. And his design, adapted from the native scene, shows two burros feed¬ ing on a tree that is rather, more startling in color and in the hues of the fruit it bears than is any arboreal growth to be found in that country- MARCH I 9 2 2 / i Jty - n i n e inceRnAcionAL side. “The Bulls” has [the feel¬ ing of one of the most modern of influences, and yet it is a literal representation of cattle feeding on the coarse grass ot a moun¬ tain arroyo in the snow. II this canvas conveys any special lesson it is that realism can be modern if the painter will be realistic and not permit himself to be bound by the conventions either of the schools or of in¬ dividual artists. Mr. Davey’s water colors are a reflection of his habit ol life rather than of the artist going out deliberately to paint pictures in this medium. That is one of their sincerities and one of the qualities which make them so remarkable, for remarkable they are. One of the few comments he made to me on his work was that in these pictures the form was “constructed.” a term that is felt both in the solidity of his mountains, his cattle and his tree trunks. Although these water colors have been worked over in a manner not common in this medium, they are not labored in any sense. There is a feeling in the color as of enamelling — that is, in its purity, depth and evidences of patient, loving work. The high achievements in these water colors may be noted in such pictures as “Cattle in the River,” “Hillside and Stream” and “The Reser¬ voir.” The green tree in the first named work shows just those points of constructed form and care in laying on the color that makes for such dis¬ tinction in these paintings. And the cattle in the stream and the growths on the sloping hillside show plainly the reflection of habit rather than of the artist consciously sitting down to paint a picture. Nothing but familiar observation could be so convincing in its representation of native grass form and color as is shown here. And noth¬ ing but daily familiarity with cattle and their ways could make their forms so “knowing.” The moun¬ tain habit of long distance seeing is felt in the remote vistas of “The Reservoir,” in which the far heights are seen bathed in shining light. Although Mr. Davey has shown one or two of his etchings here before he has never carried his work in this field so far nor to so complete a point MAN IN RED SHIRT BY RANDALL DAVEY of expression as in his “set” of ten plates of scenes in New Mexico that were completed at Santa Fe in 1921. Here is an etcher who has never followed the familiar paths of Venice, Paris and London in his progress as a worker with the burin but has been content to work in what Henry James might have called “the adoptive scene.” It is a rare experience to find an American etcher without such backgrounds. And yet it does not appear to have cramped either his line or his feel¬ ing for what constitutes an etched plate. Probably it is responsible for some of the spontaneity. What this artist has attempted to do with his burin is to express form through line instead of through the mass. He employs a great variety of line, uses it as what he calls an “inventional line” to create on his plate, out of something he saw and noted down in memory, a tree or a horse, or a human figure. Usually the line is bold and solid but, now and again, as in the wall back of the sofa in the lovely “Nude,” it has a feathery delicacy that adds not a little to the supreme charm of this distinctive print. sixty MARCH 9 2 2 mceRnACioriAL POHTHA1T OF MADEMOISELLE DE GO TTIGNIES^a- VAN DYNE =■ By the bequest of Edmund C. Converse, banker and art collector, the Metropolitan Museum of Art has become the possessor of this splendid example of Flemish portraiture. It is noticeably similar to the famous “Marie Louise de Tassis,” and was painted during the same period, 1627-1632, after the artist’s return to Antwerp from Genoa and preceding his visit to England MARCH 9 2 2 sixly-on e mceRnACionAL sixty-two MARCH 1922 amp mceRHACionAL THE CENTAUR ESCAPES” RQ/E ONEILL7/ cfcul ptiired ^Drawings e buffoonery of the Kewpies and the passion of my seri¬ ous drawings play¬ ing side by side is unusual, but not too unusual. In this droll existence the Hamlet and the Lear have always consorted with the clown. Thus Rose O’Neill, creator of that bit of toy humanity, the Kewpie cloli, explains how the same brush that frolicked over the rounded contours of the whimsical Kewpie was also creating the bold, forceful thrust of her sculptured drawings, which America is now viewing for the first time. These serious creations — these studies in black and white of man in diverse relations to the Nature from which he sprang — were exhibited in the spring of 1921 at the Galerie Devambez, Paris, and the Parisians, who always have leisure to examine scrupulously a work of art, explored them as if they were a new geological find. Both the Luxembourg and the Petit Palais wanted to buy sets of the drawings, but Miss O’Neill preferred not to sell them. She presented the Luxembourg with “Man in the Hand of Nature’’ and the Petit Palais with “The Smile Triumphant.” Incidentally, she has been asked to make “The First Love Death” in bronze lor a gigantic statue in a public square in Christiania, Norway. For her versatility extends further and she is sculptress as well as draughts¬ man. Of the surprising difference between these “poetic drawings” and the gamboling Kewpies, the artist says: “The Kewpies were invented to Kewpify a certain child, and they went on with their Kew- pification until our lives seemed to be completely reduced to Kewpishness. First the drawings and verses and then the dolls went scampering around the world. I was never more surprised. I had intended only to have a little fun, and it turned into terrific industry. Meanwhile, I went on making other things for a different kind of fun— these drawings and my poems which are now to be published by Knopf. From a long practice of hiding what I was loving most to make, I had American woman who made fu any Ke wp i es , as¬ tonished Paris with her powerful symbolism • by EDYTHE H.BR0WNE M ARCH Q22 sixty -l bice mceRnACioriAL grown extremely shy. And I must confess that I dreaded ‘exposure.’ ” At the “exposure,” the Parisians proved to be very diverse in their interest. Some said her drawings were like Poe or Whitman, or the sculpture of the Greeks or Egyptians. Some likened them to stones that recorded the whole history of the human race. Some found philoso¬ phies in them; and some found sinister terror. Again some said it was not the province of “Art” to carry so much “Idea,” if indeed any. “But,” she said, “I do not love Form less for its expression of Idea. It thrills me more vigorously, as the staggering beauty of a mountain or the sea is more piercing for the notions it ex¬ cites in the human mind.” MAN IN THE HAND OF NATURE ( Taken by the Luxembourg Gallery) Miss O’Neill has delved to the very depths of fundamental human emotion for these drawings that suggest the chisel rather than the brush. In her choice of gigantic figures there is a subtle harmony with the colossal Idea permeating each figure. The slow evolution of form, the climbing up of the soul and the brooding persistence of Love — these phases of the fundamental essence that underlies human life are symbolized in the strained sinew of an enormous thigh or the hairy grip of a giant. It is just this tyranny of Idea and Thought over each figure that vitalizes the whole and which, with the peculiarly curved lines suggesting the plastic, makes the drawings pulsate with life, and then haunts the mind. Perhaps because Miss sixty-jour MARCH 1922 inreRnACionAL O’Neill is a sculptress, her drawings bor- 1 ° MAD row much from the plastic. Perhaps, also, because she has been influenced by her own poetry these brush creations have been styled, for lack of a name, “poetic drawings.” As Arsene Alexandre so aptly phrases it, they are “poems of the earth, of the aspirations of human nature.” The drawings strive to translate in skilled line what the poet expresses in metaphor and simile. “The soul is still a rude achievement of the earth, uncouth, but a giant,” said Miss O’Neill of the drawing, “Man Reposes at the Feet of His Soul.” A rude superiority of soul over body is the theme of this study, effectively suggested by the height and brawn of the figure with the pygmy at his feet. But the soul is so abnormally tall that his elbow rests on a cloud — “like some poor Titan leaning on the sky,” as she says in one of her poems. The drawing is hyperbole in black and white; so masterfully executed, it fixes attention by sheer tour de force. All Miss O’Neill’s work is born of an imagination THE MOUNTAIN MARCH 1922 sixty -fi ve inceRHACionAL — , n -- -f THE FIRST LOVE DEATH” BY ROSE O NEILL H FT1' s ixty-six MARCH 9 2 2 mceRnACionAL rich in fable and mythology, “besieging the yet iree in her personal interpretation that makes cloven-hoofed Nature relent in the tender expression of a woman’s face. In more prosaic vein, the phrase “strong as a bull” is a mere implication of strength. But lor the artist that same expression means a huge knee, huge muscle and a huge neck. The man of her creation is not only “as strong as a bull”; he is in all verity a human bull. The Parisians have likened the drawings to Poe — Poe in all his gruesome and weird phan- lips of earth” tasms. But the association springs from the esteem in which the American Poe is held in France. For the French he is the great master of imagery. Therefore, when a piece of work savors of fervid imagination there is the temptation to link it to that great master. Yet Poe is hopelessly dejected; Miss O’Neill is philosophically reconciled. Poe nurses the grim and the terrible; Miss O’Neill leavens the grim and terrible with an earthy, personal stroke. Of this attitude she comments: “There are people who have found some of my MARCH I 0 2 2 sixty-seven mceRnACtonAL pictures revolting. They hurt the eye. But I am not dejected — like Poe. 1 am in love with magic and monsters and the drama of form emerging from the formless.” But perhaps the closest affinity exists between the work of Miss O’Neill and that of William Blake. With her, as with him, poem and picture loom side by side, words and lines equally power¬ ful. It is interesting to learn from Yeats’ “Life of Blake ” that the true name of the earlier Irish in culling abstract ideas for more facile expression in sculpture. And sculpture with a brush — how adroit must be the touch ! The prominence of Idea is ably illustrated in some ot the drawings herewith reproduced. “Mad” suggests a horror of consciousness rather than a personal madness. “Centaur Escapes” embodies the spirit of freedom symbolized by the dash of the centaur into whirling clouds. The “Future in the Lap of the Past” is a striking vw«. . ■ ’Jp, s. b ' 1 Yy... ' ..." - % m mx ins M, \ t hkvZ Wn SV>v v/w • ' \rff m ^ "1 WmA a .Ml LW" , - vM . .’ Jp- ml? . '• ■ v- .'W’b artist-poet was also O’Neill. Miss O’Neill has drawn her inspiration from such an equally living fount of symbolism and allegory as produced Blake’s celebrated “ghost of a Ilea.” This same tendency to substitute an image for an idea which clouded the meaning of much of Blake’s poetry, heightens Miss O’Neill’s work, as there is probably no more effective medium for the transmission of intellec¬ tual meanings than through the natural mold of human form. What Blake lost in trying to embody abstract ideas in verse, Miss O’Neill gams picturization of that most abstract of conceptions — no less an intangible thing than Time itself. M. Alexandre has called Miss O’Neill “his dis¬ covery.” At her exhibition he was an enthusiast of her work. In a preface to the catalogue of the exhibition he says in part: “With the revelation of these powerful draw¬ ings one is not surprised to learn that this strange and profound artist is also a great poet. The joy of these drawings is, it is true, rather strong and bitter, but all the more rare; powerful forms THE ETERNAL GESTURE sixty-eight MARCH 1922 inceRnACionAL adequate for powerful thoughts. Madame Rose O’Neill has realized in herself an alliance of pagan¬ ism with a spiritual conception which the pagan world was unable to formulate. Her drawings are at once sombre and full of light, exalted and terrifying: these poems of earth, the ascension of matter from the unknown: all this expressed in luxuriant compositions and the works of sculpture now before our eyes.” It will be interesting to note just what response these drawings will bring irom American critics. But for all this intensive work it is not to be judged for a moment that Miss O’Neill has for¬ saken her Kewpies. Conceived in a dream, the Kewpies always accompany her with their chirp¬ ing laughter. They were the resounding materiali¬ zation of her having “a little fun”; the “poetic drawings” are just “a different kind of fun.” “At any rate,” says she, “these things were made for the maker’s own delight, and are given to the public only under pressure of people who think it should be done, so the maker feels that she should not be put to the trouble of justifying her whimsies.” ca9(I iKaSSSU l|<2^5 zTlie feist Sfure of the Gothic Spirit he two marble heads of the “School of Michel Colombe” of France in the first part of the sixteenth century, reproduced here, are recent gilts to the Cleveland Museum of Art made by Mr. William G. Mather. They represent, with delicate beauty and grace, the influence of a man who wielded a very definite power over the school of the Loire in the beginning ol the sixteenth century; who fought hard against the growing spirit of the Renaissance to preserve the Gothic tradition in its last phase; and who is known best by one of his few authenticated works, the famous tomb of Francis II, Duke of Brittany, in the Nantes cathedral. Beyond the record that the two heads have long borne the names of Heloise and Abelard, nothing is known definitely of their history. From the fact that they are both modelled in the three- quarter round, the backs being unfinished, it appears probable they were broken from figures such as were usually employed in the niches of the bases of tombs of that day. A strong resemblance to some of the sculptures in the church of Brou suggests a very close relation to the work of some follower of Colombe who may have worked there. The exquisite beauty of the heads and the skill with which the sculptor treated his surfaces are the positive rewards to be found in them — works that may be associated with a time that has been described as “the last and splendid adieu to Gothic in France.” MARCH I Q 2 2 sixty -a i ne imreRnAcionAL tfjoimy MH/EUMJ wilh ffVewMYfflOW he Curator of Pa i n t i n g s had brought a guest to uneh in the staff room. The two had been classmates at college, but their paths had separated. Durocher, after some post-graduate work in art and some fine training in an older museum of art, had been appointed curator of paintings in a new and richly endowed museum somewhere west of the Alleghanies, while Jones had developed his father’s department store in a large Western town into an important institution. The table was cleared, the pipes lighted, and the group had settled down to discussion. “I can see,” said Jones, “that your museum is as different from the kind I went to visit when I was a boy as my store windows are from those of my father. He had some fine merchandise among his goods, but the place was a mess. T hose old museums looked like monumental curiosity shops, and I remember being as tired as a dog after the very mild pleasure of identifying some of the curiosities. But I’m not sure that I get you yet. What’s your museum for?” “Primarily to preserve works ol art,” said Durocher. “ Is that the reason you brought that Amico di Sandro from Italy, where the panel had re¬ mained in beautiful condition for four hundred years, risked it on a sea voyage, and then subjected it to a climate that varies between that of Moscow and the Sahara Desert, with a bit of England thrown in during the spring?” The speaker was Brown, of the Department of Public Instruction, who lacked the collector’s instinct. “Why didn’t you leave it safe in Italy?” “We wanted it here, of course, to enioy.” “For whom to enjoy, the curators or the public? ” “Naturally, the public.” “Then why not admit that the curators, let alone the founders of the museum, have it in the back of their minds that the museum is primarily a social institution?” “ I have a sort of notion about the purpose myself,” put in the director. “There are a lot of trust funds mixed up with it; one to found a museum of art for the cultivation of art among the people; one to purchase works of art for the advance- // business men could he a r the staff room discussions they icon Id open their purses ■ . by m/TITER] IOWARD Curator of Educational work at the Cleveland Museum oj Art ment of industrial art; one to ad vance the purposes of the museum of art; and several for the purchase of works of art. Certainly the duty of a curator is to acquire, preserve and ex¬ hibit works of art of the highest obtainable quality; but the purpose of the museum to cultivate art among the people will not be carried out unless the art is so presented that the public comes to care more and more for fine quality. It seems to me the science of art museums is in its infancy. I like to hear you youngsters fight about it, only I reserve the right to be the umpire. Score one for social institution.” “Like my store,” put in Jones. “But I know what part my store plays in the public economy, and P m not sure what you’re aiming at. I’m one of the public, and after an art course in college and occasional visits to galleries in Europe, I’m probably prepared for museum enjoyment rather more than the average; but this ‘Amico di Sandro’ seems to me a bit dry.” “ It was known as a Botticelli till last year.” “A rotten one, then,” said Brown. “Is it any less stupid now when we call it bv a less startling name?” This left an opening for Mueller, the more elderly curator of classical antiquities, who had been called from a college where, year by year, as students of Greek fell off, he had been building up courses in art history. “Why, Brown, that ought to be particularly valuable to you; it makes such a happy Jink in the development of Floren¬ tine art.” “Yes, a link between a painting of ‘the School of Lippo Lippi’ and one by ‘A Follower of Andrea del Sarto.’ No, I thank you. I’m hired to get these collections under the skin of the public, and a study of mere development only gets them under the hat. A series on that level is better than the Wednesday Club’s story of Cimabue and Giotto out of books, but there is more educational possi¬ bility- I mean in art appreciation — in a Rembrandt etching or in that one Greek fragment of a girl’s head or in a water color by John Sargent.” “That ‘Amico di Sandro’ is a rare work.” “Rarity be hanged. This isn’t a collection of postage stamps. Wonder at rarity diverts the attention from a genuine experi¬ ence of beauty. A typical work seventy MARCH 1922 tnceRnAcionAL SOTM© is more valuable for my educational purpose than a rare one, and fine quality is our first need.” “Right,” said Durocher. “Put up the best we can get and let the stupid public take it or leave it. The public don’t know a good picture from a bad one.” “No, they don’t, and 1 can’t teach ’em how, especially when you and Harned don’t agree, but they are susceptible to learning to enjoy, at least the children are. They need background and they need to be put into close touch with the works of art. Lectures will furnish the back¬ ground and drawfing will help the children to feel the form. You ought to have seen a bunch of sixth grade youngsters the other day studying some of Mueller’s pottery — looking at a vase, then closing their eyes and drawing the form in the air with both hands. They felt it as keenly as Mueller, perhaps more so. If you’d only let ’em run their lingers over the pots, now!” “A fine lot of fragments we’d have if we did,” Harned objects. Harned was the curator of decorative art. “The hardest job the guards have is to keep the children’s fingers off things. This place is getting to be a regular nursery.” “Sure it’s a nursery — a hot-house for young connoisseurs. When business picks up so the children’s fathers have their jobs again, we’ll have to ask the trustees for two or three more teachers to take care of the crowd of rudimentary curators.” Jones lighted a cigar. “Why do you want such a crop of curators? What I want is a public to buy better goods. I’d a whole lot rather sell beautiful furniture than a lot of the stuff I have to sell, but the public don’t understand it and my salesmen don’t know how to sell it because they don’t appreciate it. I saw upstairs here a walnut table labeled ‘ Italian XV Century.’ I got one something like it last year — a new one, but similar in design and with a beautiful waxed sur¬ face. Along with it, my furniture man had a shiny varnished thing that sold ten times over, while the fine one is still on my lloor, eating its head off in the cost of floor space. Why can’t you get enough of such things to train salesmen to appreciate them so they can sell them?” “We’re trying to,” said Harned, “but they come slowly — they are some of those rare things that Brown objects to. We had an exhibition of furniture last year, ancient and modern side by side for comparison.” “Yes,” said Durocher, “and it looked like thunder. With a little effort I could stand the fine hand-made reproductions, but a Jenkinsville Louis XVI next to an original was too much.” The director admitted being irked by that combination. “ Of course, it teaches the difference between the good and the bad, but 1 doubt if that’s a function of the art museum. A school teaches how; a museum inspires a love.” “I don’t admit that the Jenkinsville chair was bad furniture. It was only bad Louis XVI and it wouldn’t have been bad at all if you hadn’t called it Louis XVI. It was strong, comfortable, adapted to the scale of our houses, sensitively proportioned, and ornamented with forms adapted to machine production. 1 can imagine a con¬ noisseur three hundred years from now sniffing at your authentic reproduction as significant of the decadent eclectic age we are leaving, and gloating over the Jenkinsville chair as a genuine early Twentieth Century example, the way we gloat over an early example of printing.” “Harned, do you honestly like the Jenkins¬ ville chair as well as a fine reproduction?” “ No, I don’t. But I recognize it as on the main road of advancement, and the reproduction is in a blind alley. I should like to loaf in the alley, but ! believe 1 ought to march.” “What I want to know is how the exhibition took,” said Jones. “The decorators were interested and so were the architects and manufacturers, but the furni¬ ture dealers, who we thought would flock to it, hardly sent a man. The distributors are hard nuts to crack. I wish there were more bke you.” “There are a lot of them like me, only they have not had the idea sold to them. You need a sales department ol ideas.” “Jones,” said Durocher, “If you introduce your commercial ideas into this already tottering temple of art, I shall be sorry I brought you to lunch.” “II I remember what we got in college, you needn’t worry about commerce. It was commerce that made Florence and Venice what they were, and most of the objects in this museum, barring your paintings, look to me as if they were made for commercial purposes.” “Not in a factory system.” “No, but we can’t eliminate the factory. It’s been master long enough; now w'e’re getting to master the machine, and I believe the museum has a big role to play making the machine pro¬ duce beauty. You shrink from letting the museum make an appeal on the plane of money, but the museum lives on money, commercial money. And if you can get any large number ol business men to realize that it will be money in the city pocket to deal in beautiful merchandise, and that the museum can help it, you’ll find more support MARCH 9 2 2 seven ty-one mceRriAcionAL than you’ll ever get by an appeal to civic pride. Commerce needs art and art needs commerce.” “But the museum standards?” “Higher than ever, Durocher, higher than ever,” said Brown. “Second rate stuff won’t do the trick. It isn’t period styles we need, but in¬ spiration. You can’t, though, expect either a furniture salesman or the public to be led to the enjoyment of wood textures and fine design in tables and chairs from seeing scholarly differen¬ tiated works of the pupils of old masters.” “If you fellows are after quality, as I am in my store, what are you doing with these mummy cases and foolish little wooden dolls from Egyptian tombs? It seems to me I have better dolls made in Germany. How about it, Mr. Mueller?” “Those are of archaeological interest. They show the Egyptian ideals and life.” “ It looks like science to me, rather than art — organized scholarship, perfectly respectable, but I don’t see how it furthers your museum purpose.” “Background,” put in Brown. “There are some fine reliefs there, too, and the public ap¬ proaches the art more sympathetically after they have some background of history. I wanted M ueller to cut out the dolls, but my teachers say they use them constantly and the children are keen for them. The history helps a lot.” “Brown is always talking pure aesthetics in staff room,” said Durocher, “but tumbles into history as soon as we let him loose on an audience.” “Right,” Brown confessed. “History is a great temptation. The public get it more easily. I saw an old fellow with his wife the other day reading a label on a Renaissance chair. ‘Chair,’ he read. ‘Gee, I guessed it, and a darned un¬ comfortable one at that. Italian. Must have been some tall dago to sit in it. Sixteenth Century. I didn’t know they had chairs six hundred years ago. Walnut. Yep, and the varnish all scratched off. Let’s go and find the mummies.’ I stopped and told him a little about it, that it was made in the days of Columbus, showed him the acanthus finials, forms borrowed from ancient Rome be¬ cause men were looking back to Rome for all kinds of knowledge, and the Persian design on the leather back that suggested the Oriental trade Columbus was seeking a shorter route to when he stumbled on America; told him a little about the kind of house it was made for and the kind of burgher folk that used it. Then he was ready to look at the structural design and the beautiful wood surfaces. Oh, yes, we fall into history, but we try to remember that it is only a help toward enjoying the art.” “ How many other museums stress their educa¬ tional work like this?” “A lot of ’em. They all offer lecture courses. Boston started docent service fifteen years ago; the Metropolitan does a lot of work for children, industry and the general public; Worcester is doing fine work; Cleveland has an organized de¬ partment; Minneapolis and Milwaukee are at it; Toledo is a regular bee-hive — just to name a few. The demand for it grows with what it feeds on, and we are all kept going so fast to keep up we hardly have time to stop and see where we are headed. No two of us work the same way, but any kind of work seems to show results. Some day we’II have time to compare and see what works best. “Works best for what?” “Developing art appreciation, of course.” “How are we going to measure it?” “I’m not, Mr. Jones. I’m not a bookkeeper. But if you want to, measure it by what people buy — a fair measure of their taste and an expres¬ sion of their soul.” “I must catch a train,” said Jones, “but I shouldn’t wonder if I could get a group of business men to start some such museum in my town. I have a mind to try.” V3[[ ll©££>li IIS'S seventy-two MARCH 1922 mceRnAcionAL MOTHER BEAR AND CUB “horses” rQ - — - Beonne Boronda, painter of animals at the age of ten, is one of the child artists whose work is attracting attention quite on its own merit. While her art is obviously that of a child, it is Just as obviously the expression of unusual talent. She began to draw at the age of two, and the block on which she first made a very clear sketch of an animal was included in a recent exhibition of her work at Mrs. Malcom’s Gallery, in New York, as a companion piece to her latest oil painting, “ Horses.” “Animal Study,” a panel, was drawn at the age of five, and it does not require a great stretch of imagination to relate it to the famous drawings in the prehistoric caves at Altanrira and the Grotte de Lorthet in the Pyrenees — which brings to mind Pestalozzi’s theory that each individual passes through the successive stages in develop¬ ment that correspond to the evolution of the race as a whole. She has had no instruction of any sort. Her father, himself an artist, has pur¬ SPEAKING OF CHILD ARIL/IA EkQa - - — - - — posely refrained from bringing any outside influence to bear on the evolution of her art. A noticeable fact about her drawings is that she almost always portrays animals in motion, and the spirit, freedom, and play of muscle displayed in her running dogs, horses and elephants, catching the peculiar characteristics of movement in each, is little short of amazing. Firmness and assurance are combined with subtlety of line in her delinea¬ tion of a leopard climbing a rock, a prancing horse, or a lively deer. Her sculpture further bears out a very thor¬ ough understanding of form. “Mother Bear and Cub” is one of the strongest examples, and others, such as an anteiope running at full speed, convey a distinct impression of movement. Other child artists whose progress has re¬ cently had the attention of the art world are Pamela Bianca, of English and Italian parentage, whose work was shown here fast year, and Eileen Soper, fifteen year old English etcher. ANIMAL STUDY MARCH 1922 severity-three mceRnAcionAL 6A TRIUMPH IN TILE S This photograph shows the stately and fas¬ cinating effect that can be achieved through the use of American-made tiles Courtesy of Walker Gillette Architects seventy-four MARCH 1922 mceRnAcioriAL SOTM© e- =BEH ince Colonial days American craftsmanship has suffered an inertia from which it is now trying to emerge. The machine, with its multitudinous fingers that produced endless duplicates of the same object, usurped the place of the craftsman, who was unable to cope with mechanical speed and the deadliness of mechanical perfection. All our thoughts and energies were so bent upon building up a great industrial nation that there was small concern for real art production and little time or desire lor cultivating a fine discrimination. But now that we have attained the tremendous success for which we were striving, we are begin¬ ning to realize our limitations. Not only do we need the beautiful flowering of a national art expression, but we realize that much of the progress of the nation depends upon the development of its indus¬ trial arts. 1 hough we are rich in natural resources, the supply is not limitless. We cannot forever go Ancient Craft, in ait its splendor, has rebirth here and architects achieve fascinating results . by 1] HANNA TACMH d OLD MOORISH TILES ON WALLS - GPUEBY LOBELIA BLUE ON FLOOR mrs. john l. Gardner’s boston HOME : m n on exporting a huge bulk of raw material, but must learn to fashion this material into finished products that will bear comparison with, and even overtop, those of other nations. To do this we must have highly trained craftsmen and artisans, who will be able to create beautiful objects, whose value will enhance the price of the raw material a hundred times. And so when we speak of the development of art in its largest sense, we do not allude only to its great aesthetic and spiritual significance, but to its practical application to commercial and domestic life as well. I he last fifteen years or so have marked a new era in the art life ol America. We are demanding more beautiful things and we are producing them. One of the crafts that has been rescued is tiles. It is perhaps one of the oldest of the known arts and after being brought to a high state of develop¬ ment in the Far East found its way gradually to march 1922 seventy-Jiv e inceRHAcioriAL all the more advanced countries of Europe. The Persians, Spaniards, Moors, Italians, Chinese, Dutch, had all realized the infinite decorative as well as utilitarian possibilities of tiles, and we turn to them for inspiration for our own designs. Our ornament differs in scale and dimension from that on ancient buildings, so we cannot utilize an exact reproduction of the old types, but we are attempting to catch the spirit of this time-honored art, to grasp something of its essence, and then to adapt it to our own require¬ ments. The old Persian and Moorish tiles still retain all the glory of scintillating color that gave such a beautiful tonal quality to their structures, and they are well worth our study and admiration, but for a more restrained appli¬ cation we may turn to examples of the Italian Renaissance, when every detail pertaining to a building was as lovingly fashioned and carefully conceived as was the structure itself. For many years we looked upon the hard, highly glazed tiles we were producing as purely a hygienic expedient to be used in bath-rooms, corridors, railroad pas¬ sages or restaurants, where cleanliness and light must be got in the easiest way. Texture, color and fascinating de¬ sign had not as yet made a direct appeal to our belated feeling for dec¬ oration. But there were pioneers even then who were experimenting and working out problems in pottery, and these have revolu¬ tionized the whole industry. Instead of continu¬ ing the conventional method of fashioning tiles Irom a die pressed by a machine, which showed a hard uninteresting surface, they have revived the early, more primitive way of modelling the design by hand, and these molds have a plastic quality — a marked individuality of their own — which only the freedom and spontaneity of the human touch can produce. Color has also been made the subject ol deep attention by American potters and happy results have followed. This spirit of progress was greatly fostered by Mr. Henry C. Mercer, who, keenly interested in historical research, became fired with the desire to resuscitate the lost art of the Pennsylvania Ger¬ man potters. Though this particular experiment failed, the endeavor bore fruit in a far wider field; Mr. Mercer, mastering the potter’s art himself, established what is known as the Mora¬ vian Pottery and Tile Works at Doyles- town, Pa., where he found that the native red clay, though too soft for producing satisfactory pottery lor household use, was excel¬ lent material for making tiles. With an artist’s vision, he sensed that the time was ripe for making ornamental tiles, such as had never been created in this country, and his am¬ bition was realized when, after years of experi¬ menting, he produced an art that is distinctly modern and American. He not only formu¬ lated new methods of cutting his colored clay into small units to pro¬ duce his designs in sil¬ houette, but he had his own ideas of obtaining remarkable effects by so setting them in concrete that they resembled — though with far greater color variety — the bro¬ cade patterns in very ancient tiles. Even when he wishes to tell a story, and introduces human figures, there is no dis¬ tinct pictorial present¬ ment of his theme, but rather a beautiful mosaic dec¬ oration, without a hint of perspective to bring the eye from the imaginative to a more realistic conclusion. The pieces ol clay that form the mosaic are not the tiny bits that the craltsmen ol mediaeval days used, but are boldly modelled slabs with their outlines and design defined by the cement in which they are set. One feels, first of all, in viewing one of Mr. Mercer’s imaginative decorations, the thing as a WALL PANEL - A BEAUTIFUL SPECIMEN FROM THE GRUEBY WORKS seventy-six MARCH 1922 mreRtiAtionAL SOTM© whole — beautiful passages of color that glow where a high light touches them and that grow deep and luminous and mysterious when submerged in shadow. But gradually the eye takes finer note, detail grows stronger and more distinct, and the tale is told. Having so line an historical back- „ „ ground from his MURAL PANEL - PRODUCED BV mr. mercer’s Moravian potterv archaeological AND TILE WORKS “THE BIBLE FIREPLACE” researches, he an ingle nook made quaint has also achieved BV THE MORAVIAN works a remarkable success in the reproduction of old tiles, whose designs and decorative qualities can never be surpassed by latter day workers. Although the Moravian tiles are characterized by originality and an individuality all their own, there are other potters in America producing MARCH 1922 seventy-seven inceRtiAcionAL iOTDtt® equally good work who have done much to raise the standard of the craft to its present high level. The Grueby Tile Company was the first to turn from the manufacture of strictly utilitarian tiles to the making of an art product that carried with it a message of beauty. Special orders from architects were sought that would give scope for the potters’ skill, and Mr. Grueby realized that the then-accepted tile of unsympathetic surface and limited color scope did not fulfil its mission nor justify its use. Up to that time, brightly glazed tile surfaces had been treated with acids, or other methods were employed, with unsatisfactory results, but a great departure from the old order of things was now effected simply through firing, which resulted in the soft velvety texture and pure tonal quality which is so characteristic of the Grueby tiles. They are especially adaptable for interiors where a warmer, more personal note is sought than is afforded by marble or stone, where color and design are suggestive ot old brocades, and where the craftsman is able to sound an individual note of his own. We are still young in the use of color decoration on the exterior of buildings and are still shy of introducing it into gardens, but we are beginning to realize its vast possibilities and to experiment with it as to location, form and emphasis. In warm climates, where the temperature varies but little, tiles have been used out of doors with splendid results, but where there are sudden changes from heat to cold the problem of making tiles weather-proof is a difficult one. The Enfield Tile and Pottery Company has solved this question with remarkable success, producing material of great variety and of wide range in color and design. Not being limited in their manufacture to one or two special styles, they attack an architectural problem as a whole, treating each unit as a part of an entity. This can be done the more readily when each unit that is required by the design is produced by the same potters, who can then achieve a harmony of color and conformity of treatment that would often otherwise be lost. We are also coming to a better understanding of materials and their legitimate application, and architects are more and more utilizing local material — concrete, wood, brick or stone, or a com¬ bination of these. But a feeling of joyousness — of spontaneity — in the use of color has somehow been lacking in our architecture. But we are getting away from this and are beginning to intro¬ duce color enrichment, whether in small quantities for emphasis, or in the mass when buildings need the relief of permanent brilliant tones. To obtain the best effects, the background for these bright bits of pottery must take on the same character as the decorative motifs themselves, and concrete, stone, rough plaster or marble lend themselves best for this purpose. The American Encaustic Tile Company is minutely studying color in relation to architectural form as a decorative resource, and is brilliantly exemplifying what American craftsmanship can accomplish in this field of endeavor. Its artists are producing designs, too — adaptations of the old as well as original conceptions — that are very interesting. The Batchelder tiles are a Western contribu¬ tion, which have a particular quality of their own that should not go unrecognized. This concern’s reproductions of Aztec and Mexican tiles afford a characteristic note that is very effective in the proper environment. The Rookwood Potteries, so well known for their beautiful essays in cer¬ amics, are also producing tiles whose beauty lies in their rich colorings of yellow, browns and reds, that emanate mostly from the clay which abounds in the Ohio Valley. As a decorative medium, tiles offer unlimited scope for artistic expression in permanent form, especially the plastic tile which can be so freely modelled in the clay. Like nomads, tiles have wandered for centuries from place to place, reach¬ ing us here at last in a guise that is worthy of their ancient heritage. US'.-’ D(^)(i l)SV seventy-eight MARC H 9 2 2 inreRnACionAL OCTOBER EVENING” BY WILLIAM L. LATHROP J>) nztA\ mners a R cnnsy vama / vcacicmv “the LITTLE GREEN hat” BY IRVING R. WILES HON. DONALD F. WARNER*’ BY ELLEN EMMETT RAND i At the one hundred and seventeenth annual exhibi¬ tion of the Pennsylvania Academy of Design, held in Philadelphia, from February 4th to March 26th, the Temple Gold Medal was awarded to William L. Lathrop for his “October Evening,” the Beck Gold Medal to Ellen Emmett Rand for her “Por¬ trait of the Hon. Donald F. Warner,” the Walter Lippincott prize to Irving R. Wiles for “The Little Green I lat,” the Mary Smith prize to Mary Town¬ send Mason for her “Still Life with Fruit,” the Sesnan Gold Medal to George Oberteuffer lor “The Bathing Beach, Wisconsin ” and the George D. Widener Gold Medal to Beatrice Fenton for her lively work in sculpture, “Seaweed Fountain.” J ry MARCH I Q 2 2 seven ly-n 1 n e mceRnAcionAL §ta©a© “new YEAR FRUCTIFICATION CEREMONY*’ BY FRED KABOTIE mrnei ~ ica he American In¬ dian of popular conception, a strange, ferocious creature, good only when dead, and utterly oblivious, as were most fiction heroes before Balzac, to any need for economic activity, is getting summary treatment these days at the hands of Indian scholars. In his place we see emerging a comparatively peaceful, industrious figure, a child of nature, close to the soil from which he wins his living, cultivating the earth with a rough hoe, hunting wild creatures, and living with his tribe in a free democratic associa¬ tion. How really fine was the American Indian civilization — for it was a civilization — and how many things it has added to our Caucasian world is just now beginning to dawn upon us. The Indian hoe culture — the Indian had no plough nor any domestic animal to pull it — gave us some of our most valuable food crop plants. Among these we may name maize, potatoes, tomatoes and squashes. (Tobacco, of course, is not a food.) These things our shrewd material¬ istic culture has taken over from the Indian with¬ out so much as a “thank you.” But the higher elements of the Indian civilization, its philos¬ ophy, its poetry and its art, we have not bothered our¬ selves much about. We have usually told ourselves that there was nothing there worth noticing. Even today, with indis¬ putable proof of the Indian’s wonderful creative life before us, a large part of our public sticks its collective head into the broad sands of prejudice, and exclaims, “Indian art! There ain’t no sich animal.” The pity of it is that this attitude is shared by many of those whom our benevolent paternal¬ ism has deputed as professional stepfathers to our aborigines — the Indian agents. But there are not lacking a few to stand out against this petty denigration of our Indian culture. They are usually the men who know the Indians best, the scientists and the artists who have lived among them. Specially distinguished among the appre- ciators of the redman’s culture is Dr. Edgar Lee Hewett, of the Santa Fe Museum. Dr. Hewett enters the present discussion as the discoverer and encourager of the Pueblo Aboriginal water colorists of A ewi He xi comake faith¬ ful record of their race • by E.H CAHILL □ eighty MARC H 9 2 2 irareRtiAcionAL “hopi mask dance” BY FRED kabotie artists, whose water color pictures of Indian ceremonial life are a feature of the 1922 show of the Independents, in New York. He is a friend of the Indian, and his friendship is based on the respect that is born of knowledge. For many years he has worked to preserve what remains of the Pueblo civilization of the Southwest, and to encourage the Indians in new creative and expressive activity. Some years ago Dr. Flewett, through his in¬ terest in the pottery of the San Ildefonso Pueblo, met Ta-e, the first of these Indian w?ater colorists. Ta-e had got hold of some water colors and paper, and he conceived the idea of putting down the characters and costumes of the dance dramas of his people. In his spare time he made single figures from the dances. When these pictures of Ta-e came to the notice of Dr. Hewett he was struck by their simplicity and earnestness. He saw immediately that here was something to be encouraged, the spontaneous beginning of a new art among the Indians. Ta-e went on producing his pictures until he died, during the influenza epidemic which carried off a third of the San Ildefonso Pueblo. But art is the child of imitation, and Ta-e’s delightful pastime had been taken up by other young Indians. Since his death it has been carried on and enlarged in scope. One of Ta-e’s first followers was Awa Tsireh. The group of water-color artists now includes Awa Tsireh, Fred Kabotie, Velino Shi je and Tonita Pean, the last a girl. The works of these Indian artists, on view at the exhibition of the Society of Independent Artists at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, March 1 1 to April 2, must be seen to be fully appreciated. They mark the birth of a new art in America, the expression by the Pueblo Indian of his amazingly rich ceremonial life in the art medium of the white man. The number and remarkable char¬ acter of the ceremonial observances of the Pueblos has captured the imagination of all those whose good fortune it has been to know this wonderful Indian people. No month passes among them without several ceremonial “dances,” and every able-bodied Indian takes part in some performance during the year. Walter Hough says that these people have “the best round of theatrical enter¬ tainments enjoyed by any people in the world, for nearly every ceremony has its diverting side, for religion and the drama are here united as in primitive times.” And he adds that this cere¬ monial life, “in the opinion of enlightened men, should have a record before the march of civiliza¬ tion treads it in the dust.” This record, in the finest possible way, is being made by the young Indian artists whom Dr. Hewett is encouraging. Their pictures record the emotional quality, the very feel and color and movement of the astounding Pueblo ceremonies. But more than that these water colors are works of art in themselves, valid for all time, even if they were records only of the creative imagination of the artist who conceived them. In them one feels the solemnity of great quiet places, the delicate embroidery of clouds against the endless heights of the desert air, the Sun-Father gleaming upon the yellow sands, and the mesa rising suddenly out of the arid expanse, much the same as the figures in these drawings materializing in all their rich march 1922 eighty-one mceRnACionAL women’s wheel dance” by awa tsireh and vibrant life out of the sheer blank whiteness ol space. In the “Hopi Mask Dance” Fred Kabotie has achieved a fine rhythmic balance of figures. In the bending of the forms in columns there is a sort of mass modeling that is very beautiful. Here is rhythm and action and a vivid sense of life, not too realistically rendered. Kabotie has a feeling lor bulk very near — one might almost say peril¬ ously near — to that ol his white brother, but he knows howto keep it in check. The ‘‘Fructification Ceremony” has sensitive earnestness in the execu¬ tion of the rows of strange masked figures bending and projecting toward us on the right and on the left of the composition. Awa Tsireh keeps to the formalism of the Indian in his figure drawing. His “Women’s Wheel Dance” shows a remarkable manipulation of the blacks of the heads against the gorgeous close-knit orchestration ol color in the costumes. In the “Green Corn Ceremony” the yellow painted bodies strike in warm relief against the black skirts and hair. Awa Tsireh resists the sensations of bulk and consistently preserves the flatness of the Indian method. An American or European painter trying to put down these Indian ceremonies would probably paint the time of day and the New Mexican sky. Fie would be struck by the nature of the sunlight, and would think the Indian blankets and costumes wonderful. He would handle his subject as masses of color in light and shade. That is, he would paint the phenomenon. The Indian concentrates on the thing itself. The European would record his visual sensations. The Indian records what he knows, emending his vision bv his knowledge and his intuitive understanding — and art is usually in proportion as the artist does this. These water colors are an instinctive expression of the Indian’s aesthetic life in a new dimension, the dimension of the European’s art medium. These Pueblo Indians have made this medium their own, a part of their aesthetic and religious life. The aesthetic and religious life of the Indian he feels to be an integral part of the nature with which he is at one. Nature, for him, is alive with beings like himself. The sun, the clouds, the rainbow, lightning and thunder, the fertility¬ bringing rain, and the Earth-Mother bearing grains and fruits for man, are venerated as the sustainers and enrichers of human life. To these animistically pictured forces the Pueblo Indian expresses his gratitude in song and dance and ceremony, in the decoration ol sacred places and of his own body. Aestheticism and a deeply religious feeling permeate his culture, and find their best expression, perhaps, in dance dramas in which the actions of the beings that aid and sus¬ tain man are imitated. The inherent nobility and dignity of these Indian people is expressed in the magnificent gestures, the rhythmical movement, and the superb coloring of these dance dramas. The Pueblo Indian as an artist of symbolic panto¬ mime has no superior on earth. Flis ceremonies show the play of a rich symbolic imagination, classic in dignity and in formalized spontaneity. Someone — I think it was Waldo Frank — has pointed out that in certain of the Indian languages there is but one word for happiness and beauty. The Indian finds his joy in beauty, and in that eighty-two MARCH Q 2 2 inceRHAoonAL “green corn ceremony” by awa tsireh he is unlike us. For though we may recite with pious unction the line of Keats, “a thing of beauty is a joy forever,” the walls of our sordid industrial Babel rise on all sides to give us the lie. We great Machine People, who have carried ugliness well- nigh to apotheosis in the fairest lands of earth, may well forego the conqueror’s pride and learn wisdom from our humble brother of the pueblos, who has made the desert bloom with beauty. These glowing Indian water colors show that the creative life of the redman of the pueblos is far from finished. The same genius which evolved his perfect ceremonial dramas, his gorgeous pottery designs, and the architecture of his com¬ munity houses, lives on with renewed vigor in this new medium of expression. The ability of any race to create an art as great in its originality and its simple power as is this Indian water-color art is proof sufficient that it is far from its period of artistic senescence. These Pueblo Indian boys are the pioneers of a new race of American primitives. Primitives by virtue of a childlike vision and a delight in things seen, and not in any sophisticated or consciously cultivated naivete. v3(; i)ber Ends, per doz . 1.20 tbe World American Lead Pencil Co. 214 Fifth Avenue, New York and LONDON, ENG. I xi ] International Studio March 1922 YOUR PEN BEHAVES THERE are no nicks and ridges in Strathmore Artists’ Papers and Boards — no oil spots nor hairs to lead an unsuspecting pen off the straight and narrow path. STRATHMORE f ARTISTS' PAPERS aJ BOARDS are chemically pure. Made of clean white rags to insure a perfectly smooth, clean surface. m Get a supply at your dealer’s today, or write us for free samples. Look for the Strathmore mark, the thistle, stamped on every sheet. I STRATHMORE PAPER GOMPANY Temple of Concord — Girgenti , Sicily PICTURES - - FOR - ART STUDY Over 3,000 subjects classified into nine different series covering periods from early Egyptian to modern American Art. Prints \ '/2 cents each. Complete catalogue 5 cents A new series on Mediaeval Sculpture in preparation Send for illustrated announcement Jree on request The UNIVERSITY PRINTS 5 BOYD STREET, NEWTON, MASS. J, Re Jlristocrat of JineTJoikt Soaps Since 1789 March 1922 International Studio Carson Pirie Scott and Company CHICAGO The works of prominent artists are displayed here at all times. Particularly noteworthy are those ol GUY C. WIGGINS WILSON IRVINE WALTER UFER VICTOR HIGGINS JOHN F. CARLSEN FREDERIC M. GRANT Inquiries regarding any works here will be given prompt attention. THE GALLERIES THE BEST of ALL Here is the most wonderful READY TO USE ART WATER COLORS ever made. No Other Colors to Equal Them Millerine Colors Will Not Dry up or harden in Jars, no matter how long exposed! No digging in to get out hardened and worthless colors. Millerine Colors will not Fade! They are brilliant, easy and smooth flowing. Millerine Colors put up in 2 oz., 8 oz. and quart wide mouth Jars. All colors and shades. Prices on application. Send us SI .00 we ivill send you prepaid, one 30c 2-oz. Jar of Rich Ivory Black, Vermilion, Ultramarine Blue, and 1 oz. Millerine Gold — the most wonderful liquid gold — - for pen or brush for all purposes — ever produced. Test these colors out. Then you’ll send your future orders for Millerine Colors — because you’ll never want to use any other colors. CIRCULAR PRICES, ETC., FREE FOR ASKING Emangee Products Corporation 2050 Amsterdam Ave., New York, N. Y. Distinctiveness in Monograms The distinguishing personality of an individual is significantly reflected in the distinctiveness of4the stationery used. The ancient coat-of-arms, so cherished for its exclusiveness, is today superseded by a rare selection of design which makes for the individuality of the user. Let us send you a distinctive MONOGRAM of your interwoven initials, artistically designed and beautifully executed, for permanently marking your jewelry, linen, stationery and chinaware. New and very exclusive. Write your name plainly and enclose a $1.00 Bill or P. O. Money Order, addressed to Monogram Art Co., P.O. Box 979, Richmond, Va. SHAWPRINTS A new series of original photographs ■ JL. for use in place of the living model by i|PP artists, students, etc. Jf Highest quality in posing, lighting and if arrangement ■m Full details with samples Jor to cents T SHAW PUBLISHING COMPANY If., DEPT. S-^j Olive Ann Alcorn 44 BOYLSTON STREET BOSTON, MASS. * ANNOUNCING A NEW SERIES OF Alta Art Studies (Jliv^Inti flcorp ACCLAIMED BY ARTISTS AS THE FULL- 'll EST ATTAINMENT OF THE GRECIAN IDEAL J1 ACTION— STATUESQUE— STILL POSES BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOS — 8 x io inches from sharply focused, original plates on the best grade of double weight photo paper. PRICES, including shipment, 5 for $2.50, 10 for $3.50, 20 for $6.00. Miniature Samples sent for 25c., same to be applied on initial order. Ed.W Smith cLSons 718 Mission Street San Francisco J. BLOCKX FILS, BELGIUM OIL COLORS AND MEDIUMS T?MwfRTLDN Write for List. To be had at all First-Class Art Material Dealers SCHNEIDER & CO., INC., 2102 Broadway, New York Telephone Columbus 6586 Sole Agents: United States and Canada LIFE STUDIES from the nude Beautiful sepia prints, size 7 x 9 on mountings, 11 x 14. We publish over 250 subjects for use by art students, sculptors, architects, illustrators, designers and photographers. Twelve prints sent for 89.00. Six prints sent for S5.00. Three prints sent for S2.50. Single prints SI .25. Sample sheet of miniature subjects sent for 25c in coin or stamps, to be credited on first order. CONSOLIDATED MFG. CO. 32 Union Square Dept. 606 New York City FIGURE MAN PICTURE RESTORER Portrait painter wishes to connect with Interior Mural or Church Dec¬ orator. Adept at color schemes. Address T. L., i East 45th Street New York City RICHTER MFG. CO. MANUFACTURERS AND IMPORTERS Decorative Burlaps, Draperies for Walls, etc. Superior grade ol Artists’ Canvases in all widths up to 24 feet. 1 31-133 East 23d Street, New York Main Office and Works TENAFLY, N. J. NANTUCKET ISLAND Studio and Housekeeping Rooms To Rent for Summer at Reasonable Prices CLASSES Address: Art Colony, Box 666, Nantucket, Mass. Photo Gravu re, Zinc and Copper Plates For Etc liing. Dry P oint. Solt Groun d. Aquatint and M ezzotint , St pple and Line Engraving. Si/.( .s' in Slncl: 2f< x 3 G" 3 x 4" 4 x 5" 5 x 6" 5 x 7" 6 x 7" 6 x 8" 7 x 10" 8 X io" 8 x 1 2" I 0 x 12" Odd sizes mac le u p on orders. Y\ /rite us for prices. or telep hone Bee kman 3^48 Star Engravers’ Supply C o.,6 1 Beekm anSt.,N.Y. f Hi' ] International Studio March 1922 T J * A * A ^ C 1 1 REGULAR and Leading American Art ochools ♦ summer classes THE ART INSTITUTE OF CHICAGO ART SCHOOL SUMMER SESSION JULY 5 TO SEPTEMBER 9, 1922 For Artists — Teachers — Craftsmen and Students Offers the remarkable privilege of studying under the same roof with one of the greatest museums and art libraries where one may browse among the treasures of paintings, sculptures, decorative arts and prints, and at the same time be receiving technical instruction. An opportunity to gain new ideas and advance professionally by keeping in contact with the most modern art movements and suggestions. A large Faculty, numbering over 20, includes members of the regular Faculty augmented by well-known special instructors. This insures more than usual individual attention to the student. Situated within a short walking distance of the business district, the theatres, beautiful shops and the Field Museum makes this school the greatest and most accessible art center of the country. P R O G R A M Toy Afaking Lettering Mechanical Drawing Perspective Design Still-Life Painting Lectures During the past year 4500 students attended the school. A long waiting list has been kept on file. To avoid disappointment we advise early registration. For Summer School Catalogue Address Registrar Michigan Avenue, at Adams Street, Chicago, Dept. P Normal Instruction Craft Work Weaving Batik Tie and Dye Industrial Work Costume Design Gallery Talks Landscape Painting Nude Life Drawing Head Life Drawing Modeling Illustration Gesso Juvenile Classes Philadelphia School of Design for Women WOMAN’S OPPORTUNITY THE NEW YORK SCHOOL of INTERIOR DECORATION 1 o 1 PARK AVENUE, NEW YORK CITY Correspondence Courses Complete instruction in the use of period styles, color harmony, design, composition and allied subjects. Prepares for lucrative profession. Courses in Home Decoration for Amateurs. Courses for Professionals. Start at once. Send for catalog S. STUDY ART WITH A PURPOSE NEW YORK SCHOOL OF FINE AND APPLIED ARTS Frank Alvah Parsons, President Wm. M. Odom, Paris, Director Send for information about our two Summer Schools, one in New York, one in Paris Special Course in Paris with FRANK AFVAH PARSONS Address Secretary , 2239 Broadway, New York SECOND SEASON Thorough training given in Design, Illustration, Fashion Illustra¬ tion, Interior Decoration, Portrait Painting, Sculpture, etc. Day, Evening and Saturday Classes Evening Class for Illustrators under George Harding ESTABFISHED 1844 Write for Catalogue to Secretary, Broad and Master Streets, Philadelphia Yale School of the Fine Arts YALE UNIVERSITY, NEW HAVEN, CONN. Sergeant Kendall, Director DEPARTMENTS of DRAWING and PAINTING SCULPTURE, ARCHITECTURE Classes in Composition, Anatomy and Perspective LECTURES ON THE HISTORY OF ART The Degree of Bachelor of Fine Arts (B.A.F.) is awarded for Advanced work of distinction. The Winchester Fellowship for one year’s study of Art in Europe. The English Scholarship for the study of art and travel in Europe during the summer vacation, and School Scholarships are awarded annually. Illustrated Catalogue: G. H. LANGZETTEL, Secretary BOSTON, MASS. 46th Year School of the Museum of Fine Arts Instructors: Drawing and Painting — Philip L. Hale, F. A. Bosley, W. James, L. P. Thompson, A. K. Cross; Modeling — Charles Grafly, F. W. Allen; Design — Henry Hunt Clark. A. j. Morse, G. J. Hunt; Scholarships and Traveling Scholar¬ ships. For circular address — A. F. Brooks, Mgr. SCHOOL OF FINE ARTS AND CRAFTS INC. The school offers academic work in conjunction with the courses in art. For circular address Miss Katherine B. Child, Director Room 417, 349 Newbury Street, Boston, Mass. LITHOGRAPHY and ETCHING TAUGHT Print Peoples Summer Colony BOLTON BROWN, Instructor JULY 5 :: SEPT. 5 WOODSTOCK : N. Y. STUDIOS FOR RENT Write for Circular to BOLTON BROWN NATIONAL ARTS CLUB NEW YORK CITY The School of American Sculpture FOUNDED BY SOLON H. BORGLUM 9 East 59th St., N. Y. City Open all the year STUDIES — Drawing, Modeling from life, Com¬ position. Construction of the Human Figure, Animal and Plant Forms. Valuable alike to Students and Sculpture, Architecture, Painting and Applied Arts. SUMMER STUDY FOR INSTRUCTORS Edward H. Unkles, Busines Director COMICS CARTOONS COMMERCIAL NEWSPAPER AND MAGAZINE ILLUSTRATING FASHION PASTEL AND CRAYON PORTRAITS Earn S50 to SI 00 a week. By our simple method your talent is quickly de¬ veloped without interfering with present work . BY MAIL OR LOCAL CLASSES. Write for full par¬ ticulars. List of successful pupils, illustrated pros¬ pectus . Associated Art Studios. 23d St. and Broadway A 25 Flatiron Building, New York, N. Y. 5nJ3U* I xiv ] March 1922 International Studio The EASTPORT SUMMER SCHOOL OF ART - - EASTPORT, MAINE - Oil Painting and Water Color JULY ij TO SEPTEMBER 15 GEORGE PEARSE ENNIS INSTRUCTOR Lloyd Coe, Secretary SHERWOOD STUDIOS— 58 West 57th Street, NEW YORK CITY PENNSYLVANIA MUSEUM and SCHOOL of INDUSTRIAL ART Broad and Pine Streets, Philadelphia, Pa ^pHOROUGII work under trained specialists in all branches of In¬ dustrial Art. Classes in Illustration, Interior Decoration, Pottery, Metal Work, Furniture, Textiles, etc. Day and Evening Classes; Summer School. School circulars containing detail in¬ formation will be sent on application. Huger Elliott, Principal A SCHOOL OF COLOR THE BRECKENRIDGE SCHOOL OF PAINTING East Gloucester, Massachusetts SEASON JULY AND AUGUST The School of New England where a delightful climate, picturesque surround¬ ings and a complete school equipment combine to provide the student with a proper environment. Classes: Painting from the Costumed Model in the open air. Landscape and Marine Painting, Portrait Painting, Still Life Painting and Composition. Instructor: HUGH Id. BRECKENRIDGE For illustrated circular address Margaret Breckenridge, Secretary, until June 1st, after which date, Rocky Neck Ave., East Gloucester, Mass. ART ACADEMY of CINCINNATI This school was founded in i860 and has a long list of pupils who have won distinction as painters, sculp¬ tors, draughtsmen, and designers in all branches of the arts. Its courses of instruction are thorough and give full opportunity for profes¬ sional training under a faculty of capable and experienced artists. By reason of its endowment, the tuition fee is moderate. 54th year Sept. 26, 1921, to May 27, 1922 For Catalogue address J. H. GEST, Directory Eden Park Cincinnati THE BROWNE ART CLASS SKETCHING IN FRANCE AND SPAIN Special Instruction in DRAWING and PAINTING, FIGURE LANDSCAPE and COMPOSITION Under the direction ot GEORGE ELMER BROWNE, A. N. A. Class sails on May n For full info rmation write at once to Miss JANE FREEMAN, Assistant, 160 Carnegie Hall, New York City Class open to Students and Professionals Classes in Landscape Painting NANTUCKET, MASS. JULY and AUGUST Frank Swift Chase, Instructor OldTown and Harbor, Rolling Moors and the Sea For Information Address: F. S. CHASE Woodstock, N. Y. STUDY and PRACTICE ILLUSTRATION in preparation for professional work. Actual illustrating performed in classes under instruc¬ tor’s guidance. Instruction in free-hand draw¬ ing, study from costumed model, head and figure construction. Advanced classes under Walter II. Everett. Booklet on request. THE SCHOOL OF RESULTS SPRING CARDEN INSTITUTE Broad and Spring Garden Sts., Philadelphia, Pa. SCHOOL OF FINE ARTS DETROIT Independent and progressive. Thorough train¬ ing in Drawing and Painting from Life. I llustra- tion. Composition. Limited students’ list. Illustrated catalog sent upon request. JOHN P. WICKER, Director Parsons Building Detroit, Michigan CALIFORTIIA SCHOOL tU 7ARI5 and CRAFTS *§ 2119 ALL3TOM WAY BERKELEY , CAUrORJIlA THE IMDUSTRl/V ART .SCHOOL OF THE PACIFIC COAST EALL. SPRING AND SUrinfR SESSIONS WRJTX FOR ILLUSTRATE!. CATALOGUE SPRING TERM BEGAN JAN. 2, 1922 SUMMER SESSION BEGINS JUNE 19 OTIS ART INSTITUTE Of the Museum of History, Science and Art 2401 Wilshire Blvd., Los Angeles, Cal. A SCHOOL OF FINE ARTS, CRAFTS, AND DECORATIVE DESIGN Fall Term Opens September 26 Write for prospectus to E. ROSCOE SHRADER, Acting Man. Dir. THE SAN DIEGO ACADEMY OF FINE ARTS In Balboa Park, San Diego, California CLASSES: Life Drawing and Painting; Ad¬ vertising Art; Design: Illustration; Stagecraft; Pictorial Photography. A complete, thorough school of art in an artists’ Paradise; where out¬ door landscape classes work the year round; where earnest enthusiasm is dominant. EUGENE DeVOL, Director St. Louis School of Fine Arts FALL TERM OPENS SEPT. 19 Practical Courses in Drawing, Painting, Model¬ ing, Illustration, Commercial Art, Interior Decoration, Weaving, Metal, Leather, Pottery and other crafts. For further information and illustrated catalog apply to E. H. Wuerpel, D’tr. Skinker Road and Lindell Boulevard, St. Louis MINNEAPOLIS SCHOOL OF ART -s THIRTY-SEVENTH YEAR FALL TERM Opens September 26 Practical Art Courses Write for Circular “A" 200 East 25th Street, Minneapolis, Minn. WANTED Director for Art School and Museum. Must be instructor and community leader. Address R. F. 41, Inter¬ national Studio, 786 Sixth Avenue, New York. MARTINI TEMPERA COLORS PRUSSIAN BLUE IS A BLUE PRECIPITATED FROM IRON COMPOUNDS. IT IS OFTEN LABELLED— TURNBULLS. ANTWERP. BERLIN. SAXON. CHINESE AN D PARIS BLU E. 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Knoedler & Co ESTABLISHED 1846 Portrait of Washington hv Charles Willson Peale — Showing Nassau Hall, Princeton College, in back; taken to France during the reign oj Louis XVI by a companion of Rochambeau arid has just been returned to this country PAINTINGS by Modern and Old Masters OLD AND MODERN ETCHINGS AND ENGRAVINGS OLD ENGLISH MEZZOTINTS AND SPORTING PRINTS CPARIS : ly, 'Place GVendome ^NEW YORK 556-558 Fifth Avenue LONDON : 15, Old Pend Street WORKS OF ART of the MIDDLE AGES DE LUXE PUBLICATIONS ON ART La 7 apis sene Gothique Le Musee du Louvre: 1914- 1920 Les Chef - D 'Oeuvre du Portugal Les Dissins de Degas Etc. <§> 27 rue de Berri PARIS 8 East 57th Street NEW YORK ROBERTL* STILLS ON COMPANY'NEW YORK 60 Cents the Copy I MIC L int€RtlAOOtlAL StUDlO me 78$ stxzn Avenue ....... neu> tjokn The MACBETH GALLERY 1892 . THIRTY YEARS * DEVOTED TO PAINTINGS by AMERICAN ARTISTS 1922 THIRTIETH ANNIVERSARY NUMBER OF OUR ART NOTES published continuously since 1S97, will be ready for distribution about April 25. Please write for a copy if interested in American art “The Springtime” by Charles H. Davis in the Thirtieth Anniversary Exhibition WILLIAM MACBETH inc. 450 FIFTH AVENUE at Fortieth Street NEW YORK CITY Registered at United States Patent Office Copyright , 1922, by International Studiot Inc. Entered as second-class matter , March i, 1897 , at the Post Office at New York , N. Y., under the Act oj March 5, 1879 Editor • PEYTON BOSWELL APRIL 1922 VOLUME LXXV NUMBER 300 MONTHLY 60c A COPY $6.00 A YEAR Canadian Postage 60 cents Foreign Postage $1.00 Assistant Editor • W- B ■ McCORMICK <§> ARTICLES THIS NUMBER J. Alden Twachtman — Mural. Painter . William B. McCormick . . Color plate and seven illustrations Ramiro Arrue — Basque Painter . Amelia Defries . Five illustrations English Art in the Past Year . Mrs. Gordon-Stables . . . Eight illustrations Daniel Garber’s “Toiiickon” . Illustration Charreton — Latter Day Impressionist . Alan Burroughs . Color plate and five illustrations John Flanagan — Sculptor and Medalist Frank Owen Payne . Eight illustrations Tahiti Un-Gauguinized . William B. McCormick . . Four illustrations Walter Allward — Canada’s Sculptor . Anne Anderson Perry . . . Six illustrations Weir — the Great Observer . F. Newlin Price . Color plate and five illustrations Formal and Informal Gardens . Hanna Tachau . Six illustrations A Modern Dance of Death . Seven illustrations Samuel Halpert — Post-Impressionist . . Helen Comstock . Color plate and six illustrations Why Japan Collects Western Art . . . Willard Slater . A Beautiful Nattier for America . Text for color plate on cover The Jolly Old Toby . ... Mary Harrod Northend . . Seven illustrations De Witt M. Lockman’s “Portrait of Cullen Yates” . Illustration Gardens that Grow on Old Masters . . Margaret Bridgman .... Four illustrations Mateo Hernandez — Spanish Sculptor . Two illustrations Laura Knight — English Painter .... Lily Josephine Lewer . . . Four illustrations Glicenstein — A Creative Giant . P. G. Konody . Eight illustrations Daniel Chester French’s “Benediction” . Illustration Mrs. Fulsome has an Idea . Henry R. Poore . The National Victory Memorial . I [lustration “Studio Talk” . The Editor . PAGE 91 97 IOO 106 109 1 14 117 120 127 132 138 145 151 153 154 157 158 161 162 166 171 172 173 174 TO CONTRIBUTORS Articles are solicited by the editor on subjects that are interesting and significant in all branches of the fine and applied arts . No responsibility is assumed for the safe custody or return of manuscripts , but due care will be exercised. President ■ PEYTON BOSWELL Treasurer • S • W • FRANKEL Secretary ■ C • A • BENSON - # PUBLISHED MONTHLY BY INTERNATIONAL STUDIO, Inc. 786 SIXTH AVENUE - - - NEW YORK LONDON : 17 Old Burlington Street PARIS: 26 Rue Jacob International Studio April 1922 PAINTINGS AND BRONZES by Modern Masters °f American and European Art on 'view at the C. W. KRAUSITAAR ART GALLERIES 680 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK KOUCHAKJI FRERES 709 FIFTH AVENUE NEW YORK Paintings by Luks Courbet Daumier Ryder Tack Sisley Beal Fa nt in du Bois Forain Sloan PuVIS Carriere Myers Toulouse-Lautrec Malpert Zuloaga Prendergast Decamps de Chavannes Bronzes by Mahonri Young La Chaise and Bourdelle April. 1922 International Studio WILDENSTEIN & CO. distinguished OLD PAINTINGS WORKS OF ART TAPESTRIES FRENCH FURNITURE of the 18th Century 57, RUE LA BOETIE 647 FIFTH AVENUE PARIS NEW YORK f *ii ] International Studio April 1922 47 West Forty-fourth Street NEW YORK THIRD ANNUAL EXHIBITION of PAINTINGS by Victor Charreton during oA pri l Catalog on request “MELTING SNOW” by VICTOR CHARRETON F. Kleinberger Galleries INC. ANCIENT PAINTINGS SPECIALTY PRIMITIVES of ALL SCHOOLS AND OLD DUTCH MASTERS NEW YORK: 725 FIFTH AVENUE PARIS: 9 RUE DE L’ECHELLE r r i April 1922 International Studio International Studio April 1922 FERARGIL GALLERIES 607 Fifth Avenue at 49th Street Telephone: Vanderbilt 41)86 NEW YORK “ Island Harbor ” by ERIC HUDSON AMERICAN PAINTINGS and SCULPTURE THOMAS H. RUSSELL FREDERIC N. PRICE The MILCH GALLERIES cDealers in AMERICAN PAINTING and SCULPTURE Brush Tryon Hassam Crane Wiggins Thayer Murphy Dearth Homer M ETCALF “the song and the ’cello” by f. w. dewing Dewing Inness Williams Twachtman Blakelock Ritschel Dougherty Granville Smith and others SPECIAL EXHIBITIONS * 108 West Fifty-Seventh Street THROUGHOUT THE SEASON NEW YORK CITY f G ] April 1922 International Studio PAINTINGS from the FIFTEENTH to the EIGHTEENTH CENTURIES By GIOVANNI BELLINI WE have been intrusted with the liquidation of an extraordinary collection of beautiful works. Every painting is guaranteed and prices are most reasonable. This presents a splendid opportunity for picture buyers, even to make an investment THE ATTENTION OF MUSEUMS IS INVITED SATINOVER GALLERIES 27 WEST FIFTY-SIXTH STREET, NEW YORK [ vii ] International Studio April 1922 DUVEEN BROTHERS PORCELAINS TAPESTRIES OBJETS d’ART PARIS NEW YORK [ viii ] . . . . . . . An d ALDEN Whmum-MuraKPainkr ince the Colonial period in the domestic archi¬ tecture of Am er¬ ica passed away, the art of interior decoration has been dominated by the ease! painting. The austerities of living forced upon the people of our country in its beginnings as a nation were reflected in their homes, for we must have a certain amount of leisure as well as of money before the pursuit of art enters into our lives. And of these elements leisure is the more important. Many private collections of art ob¬ jects and private libraries have been formed by men with little money but with time enough to search for “good things.” Our American forbears labored under the handicap of little leisure and less money to devote to the decoration of their homes. Yet those who did beautify them, chiefly mer¬ chants of seaboard towns trading with China, were not free of the domination of the picture although their homes knew Oriental porcelains long before their present great vogue in our houses of the Western world. 01 that very marked period of quietude in American domestic architecture and interior decoration which preceded what an American writer once wittily called “the reign of terror” of the ’6o’s and ’70’s of the last century, we have a representative picture in the description of the Wentworth family home outside of Boston in the early 50’s that Henry James made a center of interest in “The Europeans.” The house had “large, clear-colored rooms, with white wainscots, ornamented with thin-leggecl mahogany furniture, and, on the walls, with old-fashioned engravings, chiefly of scriptural sub jects, hung very high. . . . No splendors, no gilding; rather strait-backed chairs.” The humor of this picture is inimita¬ ble. Then came an enormous increase of our foreign trade; and this with the expansion of our railroads and our indus¬ tries made us rich. And with wealth came the “splendors and gilding”; the pictures were no longer “hung very high.” In fact, our “parlors” began to assume the appearance of badly-hung art exhibitions, and in the full tide of the ’8o’s and ’90’s they no longer adumbrated that idea, but bodied it forth. Walls disappeared behind easel pictures, whose overpowering gilt frames operated against that sense of repose which should be the dominating note in domestic decora¬ tion. The drawing-room, as such, did not exist. Private social functions were always held in what appeared, in very truth, to be private art galleries, very badly arranged. Gradually a new influence began to creep into the domestic architecture of our Eastern cities — the authority of the architects who had studied in France and who were overcome by the external ornateness of the Late Renaissance. First making its impression on the exterior of dwellings, this domination of the architect reached to the interior. And the easel picture disappeared from the more formal rooms of such houses to be replaced by either a period interior or by hangings or tapes¬ tries. Those paintings that remained were either essential elements in the decorative scheme or, in the case of an important canvas, served as the key¬ note for the decoration of the room. But the true note had not yet been sounded. The architects knew it. The interior decorators knew it. The painters knew it. The missing ele¬ ment was the mural painting, that greatest glory of the Italian Renaissance interior. Our public buildings were not wholly strange to this enor¬ mously important decorative art. The nearest Son of great landscapist has struck a new note in the decoration of American homes • • by WILLIAM B. XfCORMICK APRIL 1922 ninety -on e mceRnAcionAL :sum® approach to it in our most lux¬ urious homes was the “decor¬ ated ceiling’’ which gradually was replaced by the timbered or coffered roof. The next step, of course, was inevitable. The hour of the mural painting in America had arrived at last. It is one of the curious phenomena of the growth and change of American interior decoration that its mural paintings are less well known than any other art form connected with it. In an age of publicity it is not easy to determine what force operated to muffle all reports of such work. The opinion may be hazarded that the nature of those whose taste was fine enough to encourage such an art form was likewise so reserved as to object to revelations of this kind. But whatever the motive, the fact remains that American mural paintings in private houses are almost wholly unknown, even to the art world itself. The case of J. Alden Twachtman furnishes ample proof. This painter passed through the Yale Art School in 1897-1900 and the Ecole des Beaux Arts in the succeeding two years. He has been almost continuously engaged since 1906 in painting mural decorations for American homes — except during the World War period. Yet his work is practi¬ cally unknown to everyone save the familiars of the houses in which his murals are treasured. Among these homes are the Id. C. Frick residence on Fifth Avenue, New York; the house of Payne Whitney in New York; the Robert Goelet house at Goshen, N. Y.; and the home of R. D. Merrill in Seattle, Washington. His one public decora¬ tion, a series of twenty-seven panels in the res¬ taurant of the Hotel Washington, Washington, D. C., suffered a like lack of publicity owing to overshadowing political events at the time the hotel was opened to the public. One of the most conspicuous elements in the work of American mural painters is their man¬ nered style. Their wall or ceiling paintings can be identified at a glance, so resolutely has each one of them clung to his convention. It is one of Mr. Twachtman’s outstanding qualities that he knows no conventions in his decorative schemes, as the reproductions of some of them appearing in these pages show. His murals are conceived either to harmonize with the architectural features of the interior in which they are emplaced or to suggest “CHINESE PANEL” IN HOUSE OF R. D. MERRILL, SEATTLE, WASH ninety-two APRIL 1922 tnceRnAcioriAL some exterior theme linking itself either with the personali¬ ties of the home or else with its situation. The three panels for the interior court of the country residence of Mr. Robert Goelet at Goshen, N. Y., perfectly illustrate a mural har¬ monizing with the dominating architectural char¬ acter of the building. Since it is Italianate in manner, Mr. Twachtman held to the most ornate period of Renaissance in his general scheme, which represents the visit of a distinguished personage to the paSazzo of a noble bordering on the sea. The old marble walls of the water-gate, at which the visitor has disembarked, furnish one of the domi¬ nating notes in the color scheme, the others being found in the red sail of the ship, the great banner of deep red embroidered with the coat-of-arms of the host, the gorgeous Renaissance costumes of the nobleman, his wife and the people of his suite. From such glowing and varied hues Mr. Twachtman has departed completely in the two panels in the home of Mr. R. D. Merrill in Seattle, Washington. Since the house is in a Pacific coast city, the painter took one of those external ideas to which allusion has been made for his theme, the fancy that the house looked toward the Orient and thus was linked up with China. Moreover, since the house is Georgian in character, an Oriental decoration is eminently suited to it, the art of China having wrought a marked influence on Georgian interior decoration. The color scheme of these two murals is, in the main, dull gold, gray and blue, and with its Oriental phantasy combines many realistic notations, as in the flowers, the pagodas, bridges, stools and tables. The bravura masses of color in the Goelet decorations are equalled here, in the light of perfect relation, by the delicate grace and reserve of the composition and the color scheme. Although the general subject of the twenty- seven panels in the restaurant of the Hotel Wash¬ ington in the national capital is “The Fetes Given for the Marriage of Bianca Cappello — Florence” and, therefore, is of the Italian Renaissance, Mr. Twachtman has treated his decoration in a manner markedly different from that of the Goelet murals. A simpler note runs through these panels, a sugges¬ tion of the era when Renaissance architecture, costumes and manners were still clinging to the classical influences and were less vivacious than CHINESE PANEL” IN HOUSE OF D. MERRILL, SEATTLE, WASH. APRIL 1922 ninety-three mreRDACionAL CENTRAL PANEL OF “VENETIAN SET” PAINTED BY J. ALDEN TYVACHTMAN FOR ROBERT GOELET’s HOUSE, GOSHEN, N. Y. ninety -j our APR L 9 2 2 mceRnAttonAL iiiiiiiiMiiiiitiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiimMiiiiiiiiiiiis in the later time. LEFT PANEL OF “Venetian set” FOR ROBERT GOELET S HOUSE In the repose of the figures, the forms of the horses, the old Roman effect of the triumphal chariot these elements may be noted. Even the background of the forma! garden has this strain of gravity of design, and its color is a part of this feeling of reserved emotions. Much of this same academic calm pervades the panel in the New York city home of Mr. Payne Whitney. A pool of water in which children are bathing, a meadow stretching away to low lulls, the whole almost completely encircled by trees — these are its pictorial elements. The composition is derived from a view out of one of the windows of Mr. Twachtman’s studio at Greenwich, Con¬ necticut. But it is engraced by a mood that charges it with delicate beauty. The introduction of the personal note in these murals of Mr. Twachtman’s finds an unusually varied expression in the decorations for the break¬ fast room and a boudoir in the residence of Mr. Thomas Hastings at Westbury, Long Island. The old rose trellis and the stone architectural elements in the design carry up the effect of the brick walls of the breakfast room, the stormy sky is a study from a summer day, the Hying peacocks were RIGHT PANEL OF VENETIAN SET clrRWn fYom Ongl- FOR ROBERT GOELEt’s HOUSE _ b nals on the Hast- ings estate. The weather-vane, showing a woman on horseback, is a study of Mrs. Hastings. In the boudoir decoration is introduced a likeness of Mrs. Hastings, in a Chinese robe, playing with Pekinese spaniels, and one of Mr. Hastings in a similar costume receiving the visit of a Chinese emperor, the attributes suggesting Mr. Hastings’ profession of architecture. This was a familiar feature ot Gothic architecture, but it is a unique note in American mural painting. Sheer power and strength, the suggestion of force, is naturally out of place in domestic decora¬ tion. But to Mr. Twachtman fell the opportunity to display this emotion in a wall panel for the Owenoke Corporation in the Cunard Building in New York city. This organization took its name from an Indian chief of the seventeenth century who, in his day, was a leader ot tremendous force, a warrior ol uncommon distinction ot character. The artist has represented him seated on a dais of tanned yellow skins against a background ot green, attended by two members of his staff, and with turkey feathers, the pipe of peace, and a sheaf ot arrows as his attributes and the attributes ol cere- april 1922 n 1 nety-j i ve mceRriAcionAL mony. The color scheme is confined to tawny yellow, green and a glowing crimson and it is extraordinarily brilliant in this respect, his crimson being marked¬ ly different in quality and depth here from that in the Goelet decoration. The chief himself is a superb figure, both in the modelling of torso, head and arm, and in the listening mood in Ins eyes. The writer can recall no painting of an American Indian approaching this for superb color, for its decorative qualities, and lor its representation of Indian character at its best. That a Mexican border cleft in the hills should have suggested so compelling and graceful a com¬ position as the “L’Aventure Joyeuse,” which is reproduced in color in this issue, is a strange outcome of Mr. Twachtman’s experiences as a soldier in the World War. Yet the reddish cliffs, between which his lovely lady walks toward a happy experience, are painted from studies made when duty on the Mexican border in 1916 gave him an occasional holiday to go sketching amid the rugged surroundings. This military experience of PANEL BY J. ALDEN TWACHTMAN IN TOWN HOUSE OF MRS. PAYNE WHITNEY SECTION OF THE “PEACOCK CEILING” IN THE HOME OF ROBERT HASTINGS the artist, who is a son of John H. Twachtman, the distin¬ guished landscape painter and pioneer of Impres¬ sionism in America, carried him far from the world of art into a field of mental concentration very different from that of the mural painter. He en¬ listed as a private in a Connecticut field artillery battery in 1916, was promoted to second lieuten¬ ant in June of that year, served in France in the hard fighting at Chateau-Thierry and in the Argonne with the Twenty-Sixth Division, and became colonel of the 103d Field Artillery before his discharge in April, 1919. Few men in the army have made such a record of advance in rank as this, and it is all the more unusual since the field artillery arm requires unusual competency in mathematics as well as sheer hard work. An artist’s training is not one that ordinarily would be expected to lead to distinction on the battlefield. The unusual beauty of color of J. Alden Twachtman’s mural decorations inspires the hope that some day he will turn to the decorative easel picture — as did in his day Puvis de Chavannes. =n 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 II I II 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 II 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 . 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 . Illlllllll . Ill . II . II . III! . III! . IIIMIIIIIII . mill iiiiiiiiiimimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiihmiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimmiiiihiimiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiimiimiiiiiiiihiimmmiiiiiihmiiihiiiiiihiiimihiiiiihihimhiiiihihiiiiiiimmhmiihmimiiihiiimimihiimmiihmimmmhiimmiii ninety-six APRIL 1922 mceRnAcionAL THHIIHMIIIIIIII . Mil . I . Ill . 1111111111111 . Illl . Illl . Illlll . IIIMIIM . Illllllll . I . Mill . Illlll . Ill . Ill . Mill . Mil . I . Mill . Ml . II . Mil . Mil . Mill . Ill . Illll . I . III! . Illlllllll . III! . Illllllll . I . I . I II 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 Ml 1 1 1 . . “LES VIEUx” BY RAMIRO ARRUE RAMIRO A RRIJ E — ^Basoue ffa inter his people □AMELIA ive provinces, one in France and four in Spain, deep in the Pyre¬ nees, are inhab¬ ited by about half a million _ people of a race that is different from all others. Not only physically is this sturdy, immutable stock foreign to its neigh¬ bors; but these people speak their own language, which is as old, or older, than Welsh and yet as unlike it as it is unlike all others. T he Basques have no connection with the Celts or with any other race, and the only people at all resembling them are said to be the Japanese. This supposed resem¬ blance may refer to the language, but I do not see signs of it in the physique. A mountain people, and very athletic, light dancers, remarkable swim¬ mers and walkers, they have a national game which they play vigorously despite the heat ol the southern sun. I have seen a game rather like it in Florence called Joca di Paola — from which tennis and, later, lawn tennis sprang. The Basque game is called Pelotte and it is probably as ancient as their language which, the French tell me, is too difficult for anyone to learn! The game is simple and from it one imagines “fives” may have come. Though a modernist, he expresses perfectly the ancient strangeness of by DEFRIES □ There are several theories of the origin of the Basques, the most picturesque being that they are descendents of sur¬ vivors of the sunken continent of Atlantis. Another is that — 'C3 they are kindred of the ancient Libyans, a white race of northern Africa depicted on the Egyptian monuments. All of this, how¬ ever, is merely conjecture. The national headgear for men is a sort of “tammy” — black and very small. It is strange to wear it in such sunlight as they have there, but they do not seem to need protection from the sun. The old women wear a black covering to their hair at the back; the young ones go bareheaded, except for church, when they wear lace enveloping their hair and eyes — not the Spanish mantilla, but a coiffure of their own. In their old churches the men are separated from the women and go upstairs where three rows of men’s galleries have been for centuries. One of these galleries, at S. Jean de Luz, is reached by a thirteenth-century staircase. Another characteristic thing among them is the dancing of the fandango twice a week in the public square, under the trees, to the music of the town band — wearing red “berres” (or caps). On APRIL 1922 n 1 nety-seven mceRnAcionAL anc and do all their farm work with oxen, and they all wear white canvas sandals instead of shoes, and are carry heavy weights on their heads. The their houses in a style of their own some are French citizens, and the rest Spanish, yet they all have the national characteristics and types of the Basque country. They are very fond ot bull-fights, which they have adopted from their neighbors. These people, who dance so well, and whose customs are almost antique, whose men are so muscular and whose women are so big, naturally produce artists; and before the war the Basque painters formed a group of considerable im¬ portance, publishing an ex¬ cellent magazine of their own. Maestu, who has been so successful in London, is a Basque painter and Ramiro BASQUE STUDY BY RAMIRO ARRUE able to y build though 'BASQUE STUDY’ BY’ RAMIRO ARRUE Arrue is another. Both come from the Spanish side of the mountains which form the national boundary between France and Spain, but which, in truth, are no boundary to the ancient race of the Basques. In spite of their common I nationality and the fact | that they are friends, noth- I ing could be more unlike 1 than the art of these two I men. Both do their work I in their native land, but j each sees it through the f mirror of his own soul, f Maestu delights in exag- j gerating, through some I theatrical instinct, the size I of his native women; but | Arrue sees deeper into the | immemorial characteristics | of his native country. Ramiro Arrue is a young I man, chiefly self-taught, | who has the modern spirit I and the desire for extreme ,„! simplicity in art, as well as the Chinese tendency to see ninety-eight APRIL 1922 inceRnACionAL smmo ti 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 ■ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 . . . . . . n 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 m . . . . . 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 m i ii . . . . . . . . . u . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 1 1 1 1 1 p t m . . . 1 1 1 1 1 ■ 1 1 1 m 1 1 1 ii 1 1 1 m . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ] 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 m i ii 1 1 1 ■ . . . 1 1 1 1 1 m 1 1 1 1 1 1 lit 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 m . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . m 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 m M M M 1 n : 1 1 1 1 M 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 : 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 m i m i n 1 1 1 1 n 1 1 1 1 1 ■ 1 1 m m 1 1 n 1 1 1 m . . . . . . . m ■ 1 1 1 1 i ■■ 1 1 m 1 1 1 1 ■ 1 1 . « iT all things rendered as form and color. His compositions are carefully thought out. There is nothing sketchy or incomplete about his work. But — and this is why I prophesy a big future for him — he is, like Tolstoi, impregnated with those feelings which come within the range of the simple emotions, common to ali mankind. His pic¬ tures do not tell a story, are not illustrative in the nineteenth century sense and in technique they are very modern; but (and this can be said of few moderns) they do faithfully re¬ present true and natural human emotions! They contain, also, the tran¬ quility of soul, almost oriental, which looks out from the eyes of his country-folk and is in their movements, and which is felt in the scenerv around them. BASQUE STUDY BY RAMIRO ARRUE 0 ' 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 . 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 . 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 . 1 1 1 1 . 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 < I . Ill . 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 . 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 . 1 1 1 1 ■ 1 1 1 1 1 . 1 1 1 1 1 1 . 1 1 1 1 1 1 . 1 . 1 . 1 1 1 1 1 1 ,~ “PELOTTE” POSTER BY RAMIRO ARRUE There is a wonderful peace at S. Jean de Luz, where he works, and this is in all his pictures. There are also beau¬ tiful lights on land and mountain, in cloud and sky, which he uses with decorative sense. An exhibitor at the Salon d’Automneand in Spain and southern France, he has never vet sent any work to England or America. Without any appear¬ ance of straining for originality or for effect, Arrue is original and like no other painter. His pictures contain ele¬ mental verities and eternal feelings; and from them will always emanate that Buddhis¬ tic peace of the soil, of the water, of the sky, of the mountains and of growth, and the inevit¬ ability in the facts of daily life in ancient races — which leeds the mind and rests the brain. APRIL 1922 n 1 netv-n 1 u e mreRHAcionAL JOYCE'' — 4, OH-Oiuard Somerville one hundred APRIL 1922 inceRnACionAL . . minim . . ROGER fry’s NEWEST TYPE OF POST-IMPRESSIONIST LANDSCAPE ENGLISH API m the PAST YEAR. hen at the com¬ mencement of 192 2 one sits down to analyze the development of art in 1921, one feels some¬ what in the position of those misguided individuals who addressed themselves to the compilation of a History of the Great War while the Great War was still in progress. The very actuality of the events through which they were living served to blind them to their signifi¬ cance. It was as if they endeavored to discern the features through a mirror held too close to the eye. We must be removed to a respectful distance from that which we would fain criticise before we can hope to view it in a proper focus. So with the art of 1921 in England. We know that the year established certain artistic reputa¬ tions and ratified others. It brought us another year away from the cataclysm which dislocated wdiat would otherwise have been a logical evolution in new methods of artistic attack and has enabled those who were roughly wrenched away from contemplation of the abstract in order that they might participate in the con¬ crete, to gather once again the threads of theories which seek to make art a thing rather of spiritual than of physical vision. There is, for instance, Wyndham Lewis back again after his soldiering, hard at work linking up his views of art with the philosophy of Bergson and the viewpoint of Einstein. To him the research into the fourth dimension is a more vital thing than the tradition of the past. He has done with the fetters of an art which sets out merely to por¬ tray in the accepted sense of the word. This Mr. Lewis plainly developed and expounded in the exhibition of pictures in his self-created school of “tyroism” held in the Leicester Galleries in the spring of 1921, the characteristic features of which were “laughter and teeth.” So it is not Commingling of aims makes it difficult to put any sort of labels on the new output ■ * * by MRS GORDON'STARLES □ I - - _JC3 APRIL 1922 one hundred one mceRriACionAL surprising that lady cathar.ne somerset when he was asked for a title to the drawing which we reproduce herewith, his reply was “Call it any d - d thing; it doesn’t matter what.” If the work creates in one a greater realization ol the life-force, of the significant emotions which he behind existence, what matters the name? One might perhaps class Wyndham Lewis and the men who in 1921 were following in the loot- steps of this iconoclast who voiced his view with such clarity in “Blast,” as the artists who are attempting to picture the unseen. Equally there are the men who seek to draw things as they are, those who prefer to draw things as they aren’t, those who are out to give merely the impression of what they see and those who are interested in the impression of the emotion left by the object seen. Some it is difficult to label in any one class with exactitude, for of late there has been a comming¬ ling of aims, while at the same time men who have begun their artistic careers as rebels of the most pronounced order have seen fit to veer toward a mitigated classicalism in their latest efforts. Nevinson, for instance, to whom I fear to refer at too great length since his recent relations with American publications have not been of the most amicable, is a case in point. This artist having renounced all connection with “isms” of every nature, is working out his own salvation on lines which refuse to be classified under any heading. In spite of many predictions as to the ultimate return of Roger Fry to the artistic fold of his earlier years, 1921 found him still upholding the banner of advanced Post-Impressionism, a term of which Roger Fry was indeed the founder. It could never be said of his work, as it is urged of that of so many, that he had adopted a simplified style for the reason that he lacked the knowledge and the skill to enable him to work on more ortho¬ dox lines, for there is not a draughtsman or a critic in our midst who is both technically and theoreti¬ cally so steeped in the traditions of art as it has been handed down through the ages. Much of his early work shows him an accomplished landscapist of the school of Claude, while his figure painting is faultless enough to satisfy the most rigid and insistent disciple of what is termed “correct draw¬ ing.” Today he has found a logical conclusion to his post-impressionist views in work of the type illustrated. Ruthlessly excising the non-essential, he arrives at that which is significant and vital and refuses to acknowledge limitations which those of academic bent have hitherto imposed on pictorial art. So if Roger Fry return to “the fold” it will likely be a fold remade to suit Roger Fry. Among the younger ot the Post-Impressionists, Duncan Grant has won himself a foremost place. The year 1921 saw the completion of the important decorative work which this artist undertook in conjunction with Airs. Vanessa Bell for Professor ^llllllli . . . . . I . ■•■Mi . . . . . '•■■■■ . Mfr “THE HON. MRS. EDWARD A. STONER” BY FLORA LION one hundred two April 1922 inceRnACionAL Keynes, the author of \ . “The Economic Conse- [ quences of the Peace,’’ [ a book which made so ! profound an impression ( on the civilized world. | Maynard Keynes is an j enthusiastic apostle of } the most advanced | forms of modern art S and he has done much I |s not only to familiarize f the more conservative S section of the public I with work of an ad- I vanced type, but also | to initiate it into the j aims and objects which | that work exemplifies. There is in the work | of Duncan Grant a J lyrical quality which I raises it into a very 1 high sphere. He inter- 1 prets rather than repre- I sents and his skill in the management of planes enables him to achieve his goal with unusual directness. He is one of the most interest¬ ing of the younger men and the year just ended gave promise of fuller and richer work yet to come from his brush. Capturing the public taste with his clever pic¬ ture of “The Chel” at the Royal Academy, Sir William Orpen was easily the most talked about man in 1921. But it is not always that his j" work comes up to its \ best level. There are J times when his paint j lacks restraint and his j characterizations point. | Perhaps it is that his j output is too great, for j certainly the amount | that this artist produces 1 is amazing. Anyhow j one feels at times that f one would willingly | sacrifice for a little of 1 that fine fervor of his I earlier efforts some of 1 the rapidity and facility j of his later productions. | Among those whose artistic reputation was •■■mil . . “an ARAB chief” BY ERIC KENNINGTON Courtesy the Leicester Galleries , London CALL IT ANY D- . 1 distinctly ratified in I 1921 is Eric Kenning- 1 ton, whose drawing of 1 “An Arab Chief,” here 1 reproduced, demon- I strates the directness | with which he attacks | artistic problems. He is [ one of the most mterest- I ing of the new men, for [ while he realizes the 1 necessity for simplifica- | tion and the elimination | of all but the essential, | he skilfully avoids the I mannered and the bi- j zarre. He is not out, | like so many of his I contemporaries “pour I epater le bourgeois,” | for his sincerity is m- | compatible with the | prosecution of any par- I ticular cult. He has | come to be regarded a llllllllllllllllllllllfr master in modelling and in the treatment of masses; his soldiers and his Arabs are no mere creatures ot a theatrical revue, but living men instinct with character and force. When one writes of recent developments in art, one’s thoughts turn instinctively to Augustus John, but since his reputation was well established long before 1921 and that year of grace did little or nothing to enhance it, he has small reason for con¬ sideration m this article. An artist whose sound workmanship and broad, geometric style have steadily won him appreciation is Howard Somerville, who has the distinction of having never at¬ tended an art school, but of having worked out his individual methods along lines of Ins own. Less “slick” than Orpen, and with a fine regard for brush- work, his characteriza¬ tion is unusual in its keenness. Problems of light are solved by him with conspicuous suc- — d thing; it doesn t matter wh, BY WYNDHAM LEWIS APRIL 1922 o n e hundred three mceRHACionAL cess, and from the point of view of a colorist he stands high among his contemporaries. While master of his medium he never sacrifices soundness to showiness. The year 1921, which saw further determined efforts to voice the claims of women to admission to the ranks of the Academicians, undoubtedly witnessed the consolidation of woman’s position in the art world. The names of such women as Laura Knight, Mrs. Swynnerton and Flora Lion stand for a personal vision and a mastery of medium which, irrespective of sex, it would be difficult to match. Among the portraitists, Flora Lion added further laurels to those already won. Awarded the silver medal of the Societe des Artistes Fran¬ cises, she is as greatly appreciated in French art circles as in British. Fler work has a chic distinc¬ tion and an elegance, her paint a quality and purity which place it high in modern portraiture. She never circumvents a problem but makes straight for its solution, as in the skilful treatment of blacks in the “Portrait of the Flon. Mrs. Edward A. Stoner,” here reproduced. Shimmering tissues, the light and shade on silks, the delicacy of fine laces, the iridescence of jewels — are a few points in painting to which Flora Lion addresses herself. Mrs. Swynnerton, whose work in 1921 con¬ firmed her place among contemporary artists, is a poet of the palette, giving to her compositions a personal in¬ terpretation in paint that means much more than mere technique or theoretical reasoning. She is one of the artists who believe that open air studies must be carried out in the open air; hence her landscapes have a truth and actuality that no mere studio study can ever attain. Her figure work shows the same striving alter the perfection of beauty as characterized the sculptures of the Rome which yields to her so much inspiration. The year 1921 served, if anything, to empha¬ size the appreciation shown to Sir John Lavery, whose decorative studies of society women domi¬ nate every show at which he exhibits. I say “dec¬ orative” advisedly, for delightful as Sir John’s portrait work is, there are occasions when one feels that the canvas tends to be rather in the nature of decoration than of delineation. Working in the Whistlerian manner, his portraits are color sym¬ phonies in which the fullest value is accorded to details of dress, while at the same time these are kept in proper subordination to the features and personality of the sitter. There is both a grace and a graciousness about his portraiture. His “Lady Catharine Somerset,” here illustrated, was one of the most striking things in the Royal Academy of 1921. Sir John’s landscape work did “bridge AT bath” BY WALTER SICKERT DEAN OF ENGLISH IMPRESSIONISTS Courtesy Goupil Gallery, London one hundred Jour APRIL 922 mceRnAcionAL mm© much in 1921 to enhance his ONE OF DUNCAN GRANT S LATEST LYRICAL LANDSCAPES reputation as a landscapist. What Landseer was thought to be and was not, A. J. Munnings can be said with truth to approach. The year 1921 saw this most accom¬ plished artist acclaimed as the painter par excel¬ lence of animal life of the present day. There is a dash about his work one would go far to seek else¬ where. There is the smell of the stable about his horses and the sound of the kennel with his hounds. His unerring brush work and fresh pleasant quality of paint combine with a fine solidity to produce compositions that are as full ot the open air as they are instinct with vitality. His 1921 portrait of the Prince of Wales on horseback achieved two notable points. Firstly, it brought back to us the style of the old sporting picture, whose art we seem to have lost for over a century, and secondly it showed us what an equestrian por¬ trait of a royal personage could be, when the artist worked free from the trammels of conven¬ tionalism. Though one feels in Munnings’ pic¬ tures that the horses and dogs interest him more vitally than the men and women, his figures are cleanly drawn. Always there is the breath of the country in his work, the sweep of the downs and the clear air of the hillside: his “local color’’ is convincing. What Degas was to French Impressionism, Walter Sickert may be said to be to the English Impressionist school. He has served as inspiration to men who have gone a step still further, but few have achieved the brilliancy, the easy mastery that distinguishes the work of this pioneer. He is as much a force today as he was when the prin¬ ciples he stands for first dawned upon a public that first resisted, then yielded. Writers, like children, are inclined to keep the “bonne bouche” till the last. For mastery in draughtsmanship, breadth of conception, richness of ideas and general “grip,” Frank Brangwyn stands today practically unrivalled. He works in the grand manner, his fresco achievements have the freedom and dignity of the old masters; there is no sign of effort even in his most ambitious flights. At once decorative and significant, he satisfies and interests the spectator at one and the same time. Fie achieves with perfect ease and naturalness what a lesser man would mar with toil. He is a big man working in a big way. april 1922 one hundred fi ve inceRnAtionAi. TOHICKON “It looks like a tapestry,” remarked a visitor at the National Academy oj Design s ninety-seventh annual exhibition on seeing Daniel Garber’s “Tohickon,” which was awarded the Altman First Prize. This graceful and accurate appreciation of the manner in which the canvas is painted includes the whole spirit of the charm of the work , While in no sense a conscious repro¬ duction of the style of the French tapestry workers, Mr. Garber’s canvas has that feeling in his foliage and in the fashion with ivhicb his buildings spot the rising hillside. Of this handsome picture it may be said: It links the young art of America with the old crafts of France one hundred six APRIL 1922 —1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 ! 1 1 1 1 II 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 II 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 II 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 II 1 1 1 II 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 II I f 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 II 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 II I > 1 1 1 II 1 1 1 1 1 . . CHESTNUT TREES -AUTUMN mreRHACionAL “murols in snow” by victor charreton CH ARRE T ON ~Jla iter (Day impress w rust n Auvergne, townspeople from Clermont-Fer¬ rand, La Sauve- tat Volvie, Mu¬ rols, and peasants round about, know a gentleman whose “pas¬ sion is painting” in the same way that many of them have a passion pour la chasse. Workmen and landowners alike welcome him when he comes to their neighborhood and look back on his visits with almost a family interest as though he were brother to them all — which he is in spirit. One can imagine them saying, “What modesty . . . and he wears the ribbon ! A fine man, not at all proud ... he will be back this way next autumn, you will see, with his box and all, looking for pictures.” This Auvergnat, Victor Charreton, is a simple, sincere and self-evident artist if ever there were one. His life has not been extraordinary; now at middle age he can look back on a mild but promis¬ ing career as a lawyer, a moment of great excite¬ Auvergnat loves light and he brilliantly carries forward the tradition of Monet and Sisley • by ALAN BURROUGHS ment when he left the law and his parents’ home (for family feeling is stronger with the Charretons than even with the average French family, their name being an old one) and then a long period of romantic wandering in the circle of his own province, with occasional trips to Paris and a “vacation” in Brit¬ tany. He does not talk much about his paintings — not at all of the success he has had. His attitude is natural to a man whose world is as large as all out-doors — and as small as Auvergne. Without putting it into obvious words he must believe that trees, hillsides, farms and lively colors exist along with other beautiful things for their own sakes. Not like Renoir, whose eyes saw life in terms of paint, he is one to whom life means country air, peasant hardship and all kinds of friends, as well as landscapes. He is a wiry type of man and leads an energetic out-door life. But let me stop to emphasize Charreton’s april 1922 one hundred nine inceRDAClODAL sincerity and erase any wrong impression 1 may have given. To him praise is a by-product of his own praise for a beautiful part of France. He does not look for honors any more than did Monet and he does not use the position they give him to seek lor any other kind of success. When one realizes that Charreton is partly poet and romanticist and that he is not out of sympathy with artistic develop¬ ments other than his own, it is easy to explain the reason for these official gifts of praise. His work, sent to Paris at the suggestion of a friend, had an auspicious start, for it appeared either among imitative, traditional work or in comparison with the austerity of the more advanced manner. Academicians turned readily to honor the beauti¬ ful as they discovered it in Charreton’s love for color. In the minds of the Beaux-Arts officials he represents the true tradition that has come out of the great Impressionists, and has nothing to do with other traditions which have sprung up in half a century — the Cubistic which claims that the angle descends directly from the spirit of all tradi¬ tion, the Post-Impressionist, which goes back to the primitives, and the Futurist. The Beaux-Arts will have nothing but the tradition of two genera¬ tions ago. Victor Charreton himself probably smiles when his honors are men¬ tioned, realizing in his honest modesty that in the field of official honor there is a great deal less competition than among the more diverse, the more inclusive modernists. The newer art is too harsh for Victor Charre¬ ton. The two types are wider apart in spirit for being so close together in date. Charreton stands with those Impressionists who painted so cleverly that the younger men revolted and even resolved to paint clumsily. His pictorial style, his interest in problems of light and analysis of color are the same qualities which created revolutionary points ol view m the questioning period of the eighties and which since have moved logically on to the “complexities of simplicity,” the analysis of “Les Fauves,” even to Dadaism. Living in the coun¬ try and disliking Paris, Charreton is outside the influences which ferment so quickly in “the art center of the world.” Where he would see subtle colors playing into one another, many of his con¬ temporaries would see “opposed forces” or rhythmic motions. Where the modernist paints the bareness or the abstract quality he recognizes as vital, Victor Charreton may paint light, which he thinks is vital. It is not unusual for artists of this genera¬ tion to be content with technical excellence, nice- “RAYS OF AUTUMN - IN MORNING MIST' BY VICTOR CHARRETON one hundred ten APRIL 9 22 i rare RnAtio hal ness of mood and sunlight, with¬ out a striking and, let us say, an intellectual dominant force. But such an accept¬ ance is at the bottom of Victor Charreton’s art. He looks for all the beauty he can find in the natur¬ ally poetic appearance of things. The name of Guillaumin keeps intruding upon me when I look at Charreton’s work — not because the two paint in the same way, but because there is a subtle distinction in the kind of pleasure each had in painting. Charreton is a younger GuiIIau- min, as observant and as sympathetic a person¬ ality, but with fresher energy and more individual interest in the subjects of his landscapes. The energy shows itself in his experiments. After thirty-five years he is still experimenting, trying to disengage prettmess from beauty, attempting compositions which are not obviously composed, and painting solid objects with the light behind them. He is anxious always to attain such skill that even his slightest sketch will be a complete record of his lull and mature impression. With Guillaumin and especially with Monet the record was of their momentary vision; it was a more or less mechanical process of transposing an effect from nature to canvas. Pissarro and Sisley, on the other hand, were interested in their personal impressions, and it is to them Charreton is most of all akin. One French collector with a great capacity for admiration measures Charreton alongside of Monet in spite of the distance between them in their separate positions. The difference is really great; Monet with his heights and breadths, his large golds and greens is incomparable to the jewel-like intimacies of Victor Charreton, which again are different from the rather whole-souled intimacies of Sisley. Monet had the forceful nature to make a revolution among his fellow artists, but this the gentle Charreton would not care to have happen even il circumstances should make him an innovator. The rather halting simi¬ larity in their technique is not important. Except for the factor of time there is nothing to suggest that Charreton is a follower of Monet. The outstanding characteristic of Charreton’s work is the personal pleasure he takes in the feel of the sun, the dulled brilliance of winter days, the richness of autumn — the things a sensitive man knows as happiness. To follow Victor Charreton through a day’s sketching would add greatly to one’s appreciation of him. Up early in the morn¬ ing, he starts for some spot he had passed perhaps the day before, or maybe he has no one scene in WINTER - AUVERGNE BY VICTOR CHARRETON APRIL 9 2 2 one eleven mceRnAciorjAL mind. He walks quickly, notic¬ ing along the road any number of beauties; his eyes are sharp, he knows fields and flowers and he sees them as a painter does. Per¬ haps the sun strikes a group of trees near a brook in a certain way so that the color combinations are particularly interesting; he chooses the best angle, sets to work and draws carefully before touching his pigments. To look at “Chestnut Trees — Autumn,” here reproduced in color, one would not believe that Victor Charreton was a draughtsman. But beneath his color and in places between brush or pallet-knife strokes one can make out a detailed drawing. The boldest lines are blocked in, as for the tree trunks, and then the lighter lines and shadows are given values in a dark tone, which prepares for the freer and more subtle values of the final pigment. The range of his pallet is seemingly unlimited and careless. Mauves, pinks, grays, tans and little touches of pure color or thin strokes of complementary hues are put down quickly to reproduce his gay impressions. This canvas of autumn trees is one of the clearest in color that Victor Charreton has allowed Mr. Dudensing to bring to this country. It is clever as well as clear; in places he has utilized the neutral dark gray of the board on which it is painted in place of a tone; in other spots he has piled the pigments so thickly that they cast a shadow in a strong side light. His work is deliberate throughout and skillful; as one can see in the superb series of paintings which he calls “Winters in Auvergne,” or in the “Sunny Garden at Varengeville” and the “Spring at Osny.” But in spite of his cleverness Charreton is always faithful to his sketch and on his guard against a mere technical splurge. He depends so on the facts of his scene that he can rarely finish a picture il interrupted. During the time in which he does not paint on the canvas the light may have changed, or he may not be able to get back to exactly the same mental attitude. If he tries to go ahead from memory only, or from a similar scene, he is not satisfied; he usually ends with an angry “Abime” — spoiled! Above, I spoke of finishing a picture; but to Victor Charreton nothing he does is finished, none of his sketches are satisfying to him when he decides to quit painting for that day. And in looking back over a year’s produc¬ tion he is still not satisfied. Working day in and day out, either outdoors or in his studio when the weather is bad, he is studying always to make a beautiful expression of the light he feels rather than sees in landscapes. It is the one idea for him; he is absorbed and has been and will be in one aspect of life — the light in Nature. And among a BROOK IN SUMMER SUN BY VICTOR CHARRETON one twelve April 1922 mceRnACioriAL group of his paintings it is almost impossible to decide whether it is the brilliant sparkle of summer, the mists of a spring morning, or the dim horizons of winter that he understands best. There is noticeable through all of his work a quick response to the widely contrasting moods of the Auvergne landscape. His variety of expres¬ sion proves a freedom from all preconceived ideas. He is receptive to every change in nature’s aspect, not only from season to season, but as though he saw at every hour a quality never to be repeated. He can be brilliant and clear, or subtle and elusive. The luminous flame of autumn foliage and the faint opalescence of a spring hillside are equally beguiling to his brush. When a winter scene is his subject he brings to it an equal enthusiasm, and paints compellingly even without his brilliant palette. His pictures are just as strong when the flaming reds and yellows and greens have given place to browns and grays and white. He understands how to employ the different gradations of tone, combining one quality with another, balancing that value against this, so that his canvases sing with color. Not the least part of his effectiveness lies in his concentration of empha¬ sis where it has dramatic effect, as in the “Rays of Autumn — in Morning Mist” in which the warm gold of the foliage at the left strikes the final, ringing note in a crescendo, in which the vari-colored background shading from dim violets sweeps upward to the climax. Color is to Charreton like a musician’s instrument in which he finds myriad tones and many keys for the weaving ot his harmonies. Coming late after the true Impressionists, those who have painted with “prismatic eyes,” Victor Charreton is both fortunate and unfortu¬ nate. Obviously there are many people for whom the Post-Impressionists are now the great artists and for whom Victor Charreton, along with Mau- fra and the most recent advocates of Impression¬ ism, represents the last of a group of technicians. This is unfortunate. But coming late after the true Impressionists, at a time when the individual¬ ity of an artist has become again fashionable and the greater part of his art, Charreton has passed through the worst of that which Impressionism brought with it, the scientific attitude. He seems to be definitely tending toward a poetic expression in color. Whether he achieves this or not, it is surely enough for him to be a faithful artist and to give us the tangible pleasure of his bright paint¬ ings. One does not need to read a big philosophic book in order to find it is pleasure to give pleasure to others. “trees in flower” BY VICTOR CHARRETON APRIL 1922 one thirl ee n mceRDACioriAL PORTRAIT OF J. ALDEN WEIR BY JOHN FLANAGAN PORTRAIT OF D. C. FRENCH BY JOHN FLANAGAN V\ WSL. dOI IN FLANAGAN Sculptor and 'JYledalist Israeli said “flat¬ tery is important in statesmanship, and whenever it is used for royalty it has to be laid on with a trowel.” This dictum may be true as regards statesmanship, but the same can¬ not truthfully be said concerning expressions of appreciation of an artist’s works. There, at least, flattery should be taboo. So far as we know there has never been pub¬ lished any appreciation of the sculpture of John Flanagan and it seems now high time that there should be a word concerning his admirable works. That the public knows so little about him is largely the fault of the artist himself, for John Flanagan is a most modest man. JJe believes that an artist’s sincere efforts are alone sufficient to establish his standing either as worthy or unworthy of praise. One cannot imagine him presenting an eccentric effort just to startle and shock, as such efforts usually do. He dislikes publicity; he is not famous among the populace, but is highly esteemed by his colleagues. One of them, Daniel Chester French, assures us Flanagan is “one of the few men who know all about the technique of medal making.” MacMonnies says: “I consider him the leading medalist of America, an artist of high rank and a craftsman of infinite sincerity and devotion to his work.” Flanagan discovered his talent early and after having studied in the night classes at Cooper Union he was admitted as a student in the studio of St. Gaudens and also to the Art Students’ League, where he studied under George de Forest Brush. For twelve years he worked in Paris, studying under Chapu, in the Academy Colorossi, the Atelier Falguiere and the Ecole des Beaux Arts, winning many medals and prizes for his works. It was during his student life in Paris that he assisted MacMonnies in the great Columbian Fountain for the Chicago World’s Fair of 1893. Here we shall consider only one phase of the sculptures of John Flanagan, namely his medals and placquettes, for it is by his masterpieces of bas Fine realism and sense for color gain for him p re - e mi n en ce in l ow relief • by F RANK OWEN PAYNE one fourteen APR l 1922 mceRHAcionAL PORTRAIT OF PHOEBE APPERSON HEARST BY JOHN FLANAGAN PORTRAIT OF MISS ANNA APPERSON BY JOHN FLANAGAN relief that the artist is best known. Undoubtedly he is capable of achieving monumental works, but his mastery of low relief has made him so popular in that particular class of sculpture that he has had little time for anything else. Flanagan is not tied down to any of the canons of the past, and is equally uninfluenced by any of the “isms” of the passing hour. Plastic fads and fancies have no lure for him. On the contrary his works are the absolutely individual expression of an intensely sensitive and thoroughly sincere artist who goes his own way as a sculptor in pur¬ suit of his own artistic ideals. Feeling deeply the joy and the beauty of the world and of the life that animates it, he endeavors to express it beautifully. He is a realist, but not of that school of realists which hunts for the gross and the hideous in order to idealize ugliness. His works betray no sym¬ pathy for that form of realism which exalts with affectation of reality subjects which are happily as uncommon as they are unlovely. His works prove the acuteness of his observation, which makes his rendering of a subject peculiarly convincing. This artist’s realism is seen particularly in his portrait sculpture. He is pre-eminently a master of portraiture. His interpretations of people are possessed of what Rodin would call “palpitating suppleness.” The reliefs of Daniel Chester French, Paul Bartlett, J. Alden Weir and Joseph Pennell are singularly simple and direct in design, as free from affectation as Holbein’s sketches. The placque of Walt Whitman presents a remarkable likeness of the most original American poet — a portrait which is not merely an adventure in bronze nor a portrait more or less revealing the psychology of the man, but one which invites a larger degree of criticism because of its natural alertness and convincing quality. Again, Flana¬ gan’s admirable placque of the Prince of Wales, modeled from life on the deck of the Renown, is a very happy effort of sculptural portraiture. With what charm the artist has depicted the fine and altogether pleasing countenance of that most debonair and democratic prince! It is a luminous likeness, living, and full of charm. Portraiture is not always interesting, for it requires a great deal more than mere anatomical truth to produce a real portrait. It is the per¬ sonality behind the face that must be portrayed if the artist is to accomplish a convincing work of art. And it is just that which John Flanagan has been able to do in his admirable representations of Pennell, French, Bartlett, Weir, Whitman and the Prince of Wales. Flanagan has been called the foremost of American medalists, a title to which he objects since he has executed many groups, busts, statues, and other works in the round. But he plays so skilfully with all the delicate resources of relief, blending so admirably the boldness of high-lights with the modesty of shadows that these exquisite creations delight and captivate the observer and amaze one at the perfection of his workmanship. Among the best examples of these low reliefs are the Hudson-Fulton medal, the Pennsylvania Society medal, the Garden Club of America medal, the Lafayette medal designed for the Knights of Columbus, and several works inspired APRIL IQ22 one fifteen inreRnAcionAL by the late war, the verdun medal-obverse BY JOHN FLANAGAN most notable of which is the Verdun medal executed as a commis¬ sion for the United States Government. Repre¬ sentative collections of Flanagan’s works are in the gallery of the Luxembourg in Paris, in the Fine Arts Museum at Ghent, Belgium, and in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. Yet it is his technique which entitles Flanagan to the highest distinction as a sculptor — a tech¬ nique that has won encomiums from such artists as French, MacMonnies and Pennell. I have referred to his unique mastery of light and shade in relief sculpture. In these achievements Flana¬ gan proves himself to be a colorist as well as a sculptor, a fact that reminds one of the celebrated dictum of Rodin that “color is the flower of modelling.” Fie achieves the delicacy of etchings in his charming reliefs. To the layman at least, it is amazing that such striking contrasts of light and shade, such apparent distances and perspectives can be wrought upon surfaces whose elevations and depressions are comprehended within the thickness of no more than the quarter of an inch ! Flanagan technically is a sculptor but his unique mastery of light and shade proves that he has an unusual percep¬ tion and appre¬ ciation of color values as well. It is the domin¬ ant line and deli¬ cate melting of SIPPICAN MEDAL OBVERSE VERDUN MEDAL-REVERSE Qne Jane intQ an_ BY JOHN FLANAGAN 1 other, giving to his works the fine effects of monochrome painting, that demonstrates his complete mastery of har¬ monious light and shade. Moreover, his admirable qualities of style, drawing, color, and modelling exist chiefly as the reflection of truth. Flanagan is an adept in the handling of drap¬ eries, which he renders in a sculpturesque manner, yet he is able to preserve enough of the texture and quality of the material to make it realistic. An example is the graceful drapery of the female figure on the Pennsylvania Society medal. His fondness for subtle forms and delicate fancies is seen in many of his works. His mastery of graceful line perhaps reaches the highest point in the rendering of the hair and beard of the Whitman placque — a work which excels in exquisite line, fine balance, and grace. In the difficult modelling of hands, ears, and eyebrows, probably he has not been surpassed in American sculpture. In tech¬ nique he is true and facile; he resorts to no bizarre or unfamiliar devices in achieving results that are eminently gratifying. His works, like Whit¬ man’s poems, are full of rhythm and musical charm. In the distant ages — millen¬ niums hence — it is not hard to imagine some col- Iector prizing John Flanagan’s medals just as we prize those of ancient Rome. SIPPICAN MEDAL REVERSE one sixteen APRIL 1922 mreRHACionAL ‘‘the ROAD AROUND THE island” BY JEROME BLUM •TAHITI UN-GAUGUINIZED' hey change their skies who wan¬ der, not their hearts’.’ This line from an old poem rose up in company with other memories of writers and paint¬ ers of the South Sea islands and their life on seeing Jerome Blum’s paintings of the landscape, the people and the sea of Tahiti and Moorea. Long before the recent revival of interest in those remote islands through the revivification of Herman Melville, the exhibition in this country of the work of Gauguin, and the travel books of Frederick O’Brien, Robert Louis Stevenson did much to put the life of these “uttermost parts of the earth” before readers of books, and our own John La Farge had visited and painted the world of the Society Group, as these islands were collec¬ tively named on the map long before so much romance came to be attached to them. It was the comparison, the striking differences, between Mr. Blum’s work and the pictures of LaFarge and Gauguin that recalled the poet’s tender and melancholy presen¬ tation of man’s changeless way of always being accom¬ panied by the shadows of his native habit, customs, immor¬ tal consciousness. For to each of these artists Tahitian life wears such a different face that accountability for this marked dissimilarity must be found some¬ where, somehow, to satisfy curiosity. What La Farge did was to set down some hasty travel notes, making no pretense at anything else — very personal in expression and generally sub¬ dued in color but having great picturesqueness and beauty. To Gauguin, Tahiti was a world of heavy green foliage, through which the tropic sunlight filtered dimly, and dwelt in by a race of people who look out of his canvases with darkling eyes and brooding spirit. To Mr. Blum these islands are alight with brilliant colors in the trees, flowers, skies and sea. The trade winds ruffle the trees and send ocean rollers breaking into foam on the beach. The people in his pic¬ tures are very graceful; their bodies are beautiful; Jeroni e Blu m restores tropical brilliance to islands Frenchman saw in heavy green • • • by WILLIAM B. McCORMICK or- - ■ - _ ... •=)□ APRIL Q 2 2 one seventeen nreRnAcionAL their character of grave dignity is at all times clearly indicated; and always in their eyes is to be seen the domina¬ tion of the sad Tahitian proverb: “The coral waxes, the palm tree grows, and the man departs.” Thus the answer to these varied presentations of Ta¬ hitian landscape and native life is to be found in the personalities and the inten¬ tions of the three painters, as revealed in their work. Those of LaFarge are so plain as to require no special background. To under¬ stand Gauguin’s interpreta¬ tions of the island life it must be known that he was tragically unhappy when he went there, that he was not at ease with the natives, and that he finally aroused their enmity. The gloom and heaviness of spirit in which he was enwrapped is reflected in all his paintings. In contrast to both of these artists Mr. Blum went to Tahiti believing that he would like the natives, meaning to live their life as nearly as was possible for a white man to do, and with a cheerful outlook on life. And he brought back, in his pictures, ample and varied proofs of his liking and of gaiety of heart while among them. Of how colorful and of how well-ordered and idle life is among these people he gives us two complete illustrations in the paint¬ ings, “Two Girls Under Mango Trees” and “The Road Around the Island.” The European cottage in the background of the first- named picture is a symbol of the native spirit of polite¬ ness; for these houses were built many years ago rather to entertain possible for¬ eign visitors than for any “ MARI AA, FLEUR EXOTIQUE ” BY JEROME BLUM niiiiiiiiHiiuiiiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiMiiiiimiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiHiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirr “PU-AI WEARING FLOWER OF FRIENDSHIP " BY JEROME BLUM one eighteen APRIL 1922 inceRHAtionAL native use, the palm thatched hut in the rear of the cottage being the real home of this particular Tahitian family whose members were the artist’s friends. Hot, bright tropical light and air fill these pic¬ tures, along with the light green leaves of the trees and the brilliant colors of the flowers. There is no sense of haste in them, nor of gloom. Patient study and happiness of spirit went into the making of them, and glows from them. Affection for the people and keen appreciation of their kindly, sensitive natures mark the portrait studies of the two women whose grave eyes look out of “Mariaa, Fleur Exotique” and “Pu-ai Wearing Flower of Friendship.” Admiration for the character of the Tahitians is a constant theme of most writers who have visited the Society Group and have set down their impressions in print. That character at its best is shown in Mr. Blum’s portrait of “Poma, a Tahi¬ tian Princess,” whose serenely lovely face rises above her crimson gown in a resplendent pattern of color against an island background ol house- porch, flowers and landscape. All the fancies aroused by the word “princess,” all its connotations of a sense of responsibility, wistful youth and grave charm are found in this face as well as the externals of fine modelling and superb color. In his study of a male type called “A Son of the Sun,” is to be seen the same fine character, an open frank countenance, most engaging and attractive. Keenness of observation of the color in Tahiti is to be found in this artist’s tree forms. It is to be observed, possibly with astonishment, that red appears in the tree trunks as if the sap were colored that hue. As a matter of fact, there is a pigment in the formation of the islands or the earth overlaying it that tints the wood of the trees a dull reddish tone, as some wood carvings made by Mrs. Blum, the painter’s wife, show. After every tropical shower these notes of red appear in the tree trunks, as the artist recorded them. His ocean views and their cloud-flecked skies are marked by this same feeling tor color in high tones. In fact one can summarize his work as a whole by saying that Mr. Blum has restored tropical brilliancy to the South Seas in pictorial art. “ TWO GIRLS UNDER MANGO TREE ” BY JEROME BLUM APRIL 1922 one nineteen tnceRnACionAL KU ■ 1 1 1 ■ i in ii mi ■ 1 1 1 1 n ■■ inn 1 1 it ii ii i mu i muni) . mill . . . . . . . . . . . . . . DESIGN FOR CANADA’S WAR MEMORIAL IN FRANCE WAL TEKALI WARD - Canada's Sculptor ne of the big figures in the art | world to day is Walter Seymour Aliward of To¬ ronto, Canada, who has been awarded, by the Canadian Battlefields Commission, the contract to build on Hill 62, at Ypres, a memorial in stone and bronze, which will take years to complete, will cost a million dollars, and will give Canada, so competent judges from Britain, France and other countries aver, an enviable place in art, in the estimation of those who appreciate the best in modern sculp¬ ture, with its tendency toward monumentalism. The Memorial is to be Canada’s tribute, for all time, to the thousands of her soldiers who suffered, fought and died on the Ypres salient. Several other memorials, all of one design, that of A. Clemensha of Regina, Canada, will be placed on different battlefields in France by the Canadian people, but the Allward Memorial at Ypres is to Former carpenter de¬ signs impressive monu¬ ment u’luc/i wdt forever guard Ypres sector • In/ ANNE ANDERSON PERRY symbolize in full the debt that Canada and the world owe to her gallant warriors who fell. Walter Allward has not sprung into prominence in Canada suddenly. He has been doing good work for twenty years. Flis South African Memorial, in University Avenue, Toronto, has drawn praise from discriminating judges at home and abroad ever since it was erected in 1907. His Bell Memo¬ rial to the founder of the telephone, placed in Brantford, where Dr. Bell was born, is a magnifi¬ cent piece of sculpture. The Baldwin Lafontaine group at Ottawa is only a little less fine, while the Stratford Memorial to her dead soldiers, now being completed by the sculptor, is said to reach high levels of conception, construction and a realized beauty of allegorical thought. The sculptor was born in East Toronto forty- six years ago. His father was a carpenter, who put into his work a little more than nails and wood; one twenty april 1922 mreRnACionAL his mother a Pitman, distantly related to the family of Sir Isaac Pitman, of shorthand fame. She came of a Newfoundland sea-going stock, was a woman of deep intuitions and fine character. From her Walter Aliward inherits his deeply spiritual and imaginative qualities, his keen sense of moral values and his uncompromisingly honest attitude toward life. There were seven other children in the family, which was not heavily endowed with this world’s goods. Walter Allward got a fair education in the public schools of East Toronto, but began to earn his living at the age of fifteen. He is strictly a self-made man; and if he knows all about the mediums of metal, clay, wood and stone in which he now works it is because he had first hand knowl¬ edge of them all. He was, for a time, in the Don brick works, he learned carpentry from his father and his marvellous sense of proportion comes, in part at least, from his actual experiences in various kinds of construction in these boyhood years. From his earliest ’teens Allward took a deep interest in Michel Angelo and in the Greeks. He had seen nothing but pictures, cheap reproduc¬ tions in plaster or print, of their work, but he studied these with intentness and at all times busied himself with modellings and constructions of his thoughts in clay or wood. At nineteen he determined, after gaining an inspirational insight into the work of Rodin, the great French artist, that he would become a sculptor. He met with no encouragement from family or friends, but when he had the temerity to submit a model for a statue of Governor Simcoe, which was to be erected in Parliament Square, Toronto, he found several men among the mem¬ bers of the Committee of Award so full of under¬ standing that they gave him the commission and so started him on his chosen career. From that time onward he has never lacked work, though, as he will humorously admit, he has fre¬ quently lacked money. Nor has he been without the appreciation of discriminating judges of the best in art, such as Earl Grey, a recent Governor General in Canada, and other powerful men who have enthusiastically aided in his arrival at the pinnacle he now occupies in the art world. Walter Aliward is a big man physically, with a deep chest, broad shoulders, singularly long arms and an arresting, strong head and face set on a powerful neck. His whole personality radi¬ ates quiet dignity and strength. Flis manner is open and sincere. His voice is very low but reso¬ nant, and the slender sinewy hands, with their abnormally long square tipped fingers, are as ex¬ pressive as the face itself. When Mr. Allward WALTER SEYMOUR ALLWARD talks, his face with its sombre sea-blue eyes, long distinguished nose and sensitive mouth, lights with interest, sympathy, humor or the fire of enthusiasm. But in repose it is almost sad. Nor does it belie his temperament, which unites with extraordinary powers of concentration and vizuali- zation a profoundly spiritual outlook on life, a ruthless adherence to truth and a consequent lack of those cheering illusions which make for un¬ changing optimism. All these qualities of the spirit are reflected in his work. Walter Allward married young, and very happily. His wife, Margaret Kennedy, of Galt, Ontario, is a fine mate for such a man and a fine mother to their two gifted boys. She has been a full partner in her husband’s success, because she has shared fully in every experience which went APRIL 1922 one Iwenty-one mceRnAcionAL sraoi© to its making and has herself bell memorial, brantford, Ontario the completed model, now to BY WALTER SEYMOUR ALLWARD 1 contributed her full share to its attainment. Their home is at 78 Walker A\enue, Toronto, in a quaintly attractive house designed over twenty years ago by the sculptor as a home for his bride. The big studio is at the rear and through its portals none but the understanding ever may penetrate. Of the genesis of the idea of the great Me¬ morial, soon to be erected in France, and of which be seen in the studio, is repro¬ duced herewith, Allward tells the following story: “When things were at their blackest in France, during the war, I went to sleep one night after dwelling on all the muck and misery over there. My spirit was like a thing tormented. So I dreamed. In my dream I was on a great battle¬ field. I saw our men going by in thousands, and being mowed down by the sickles of death, regi- one twenty-two APRIL 1 0 2 2 mceRHACionAL ment after regiment, division after division. Suffering beyond endurance at the sight, I turned my eyes and found myself look¬ ing down an avenue of poplars. Suddenly through this avenue, I saw thousands marching to the aid of our armies. They were the dead. They rose in masses, filed silently by and entered the fight, to aid the living. So vivid was this impression, that when I awoke it stayed with me for months. Without the dead we were helpless. So I have tried to show, in this monument to Canada’s fallen, what we owed them and will forever owe them.” The Memorial is to be 225 feet high. The site on which it is to be placed will make it conspicuous to all the country for miles around. Its gigantic lower walls will rear themselves from a solid base of granite. They will rise forty feet and symbolize the im¬ pregnable Wall of Defence offered by the Allied armies. At the bottom of this wall two groups of Defenders stand out — one in which is shown the Breaking of the Sword; the other typifying the sympathy of Canadians for the ravaged and help¬ less victims of the conflict. Above these appear the mouths of guns covered with the olive and laurel of peace, while below is sug- KING EDWARD MEMORIAL - OTTAWA To be placed outside tbe Parliament Buildings [inscription] “ Through Justice and Truth He Strove that War Might Cease and Peace Descend Over all tbe World ” PANEL OF THE BELL MEMORIAL APRIL IQ22 one twenty-three mceRnAcionAL OTOE© orated with helmet and ac- group for the for which they fought, chanting coutrements. At the end oi the by Walter seymour allward the Hymn of Peace. Around Wall of Defence majestic stair- these figures are the shields of ways lead to a higher level facing a still higher wall, and the spirit is carried upward until at the centre there is the sudden great uprush of two gigantic pylons, rising to a height of over a hundred feet, flanking the great central Field of Sacrifice wherein stands the Spirit of Sacrifice throwing the torch to his comrade. Looking up, these two symbolic figures behold the images of Peace, Justice, Knowledge and Truth, Britain, France, Canada, etc. On the outer facets of the pylons is the Cross, while at the back are figures of the Mother and Child and other forms symbolizing humanity. In its massiveness of conception and haunting grandeur of design the Memorial has been likened to the pyramids. It is expected to rank with the best memorials of the war; some think it will take a place with the great monuments of all time. one twenty-jour APRIL 922 -jgmimmimmmimmmimmmmmimmmmmmmimimmmmmmmmimmiiimmnminimmmmimimmm . . . . . mum . . . mmmi . mmimimimmmmimmmmimmmimmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm^ — . . . . NOCTURNE' - k miMCWen- mreRtiAcionAL . . iiiimiik . . . . . in . . . . “on the shore” by j. alden weir WEIRj-f/ie GREAT OBSERVED o travel in Con¬ necticut when one knows the landscapes of J. Alden Weir is to find old friends waiting on every side — in the boulder- strewn hillside, in the giant oak that spreads its splendid limbs out over some rocky pasture, or in the gray barns melting into the silvery light of morning. A winding road fringed with weeds or golden rod has the familiarity of intimate ac¬ quaintance because Weir has already introduced us to its beauty and its charm. Like a hunter he explored all nature to bring back to us the precious note of some sylvan valley or rocky hill. Weir was born August 30, 1852, at West Point, New York, where his father, Robert W. Weir, was instructor of art and drawing in the United States Military Academy. His early education was at¬ tended by many delightful episodes, completely demonstrating a thorough disregard for the neces¬ sities of book learning. The professor called to tutor the children of the Academy in¬ structors reported to Robert Weir that his boys were doing well, Robert junior having a fine head for mathematics and showing great promise, and John being apt at history and rapidly acquiring a wonderful know¬ ledge of that subject. He paused when he came to Julian, and finally said, “Julian — well, Julian is a great observer.” With this keenly interested observation and a delighted worship of nature dominating even his boyhood, it is not surprising that the work of his later years should reveal so deep a knowledge of whatever subject he undertook. His father’s art world provided a rich background. Robert Weir was an artist of ability. Hie name of Weir would have had its place in the history of American art through his work alone. One of his paintings, “The Landing of the Pi 1 grims,” appears to To him and to Twacht- man is due the credit for pointing America s way in landscape • • • by □ E NEWLIN PRICE □ 1 — n - in A P R 1 I 9 2 one twenty -seven mceRnAUonAL iTOM© this day on an issue of United States five dollar notes. At the age of twenty-one, Weir went to Paris and studied under Jean Leon Jerome at the Ecole des Beaux Arts until 1877. His student days were filled with delight for he had the gift of endearing himself to a host of friends, who, out of their affection, called him “A young Greek god.” Returning to New York, his life and work be¬ came identified with all that was new and vital in American art. He was the center around which new societies drew together and his support proved the keystone of many a new movement for the betterment of American artistic expression. His brother, Charles Weir, tells a story of those early days when the two were living at the old Benedict on Washington Square. They were returning from Coney Island one summer day, and, while the steamer was entering the harbor, were conversing with two young ladies. Julian (as his near friends called him) made some remark concerning his student life in Paris, when one of the young ladies exclaimed: “Oh, you are an artist. OVERHANGING BOUGH BY J. ALDEN WEIR I must send my uncle over to see your work. He buys a lot of paintings.” The chance remark led to later developments, but in the meantime the two brothers were discussing their plans for the summer and Charles asked Julian what he intended to do. “By Jove,” said Julian, “I have eight hundred dol¬ lars — I’ll sketch and enjoy myself.” But his eight hundred dollars were destined for other channels, for one day Ch arles discovered on his brother’s easel a little paint¬ ing that he had never seen before. Taxing Julian, he finally received the admis¬ sion that it had just been purchased. “By Jove, I found it in a little book store on Broad¬ way and bought it.” “And how much have you left of your eight hundred dollars?” “Oh, 1 paid six hundred i dollars for the little still-life.” “And what about your summer?” came the reproach from brother Charles. “That painting will be my summer,” said Julian, and there the matter rested. So, passing over a few weeks, there came to Weir’s studio the uncle of the young lady, and while he looked at Weir’s paintings, he discovered the little still-life and had eyes for nothing else. 1 Ie must have it, and though he offered profit, Weir would not sell. But, when the summer was over, and on Thanksgiving Day the Weir family had gathered in Connecticut, Julian took Charles for a ride and showed him a farm at Branchville. “See that old farm house and all the land? I got all this and my six hundred dollars for that little painting from the bookstore.” The man who bought the painting was Erwin Davis, for whom Weir afterward bought many things in Europe, notably Bastien-Lepage’s “Joan of Arc,” which is today in the Metropolitan Museum. It was Weir’s perfect judgment that brought to this country for Mr. Marquand, who bequeathed them also to the Metropolitan, one twenty-eight april 1922 mceRnACionAL scamo Manet’s “The Boy with the Sword” and the “Girl and j Parrot.” At that time he | was offered Whistler’s [ “Mother” and the famous j “Carlisle” for fifteen hun- | dred dollars, but was in- | strueted to get the Rem- § brandt “Man with a Black j Hat” and wait for young [ Whistler to “arrive.” Of his own work of this | period is “Jeune Fille,” that f little head of a French j peasant girl, so exquisitely j beautiful that it might well [ have been an upturned face [ of an angel from some dream ; | “The Muse of Music,” 1 “The Good Samaritan” — j all these dating from before [ 1893. Followed his “Sum- 1 mer Pastime,” “Elinor,” 1 “ Knitting for the Soldiers,” [ “The Donkey Ride,” “The j Green Bodice,” ‘‘The | Gentlewoman,” and “Miss J De L — ,” all splendid and 1 fine figure paintings. The I spirit of his work was that | of a gentleman of breeding j and refinement. The late I Kenyon Cox once wrote of his manner of portraiture: “It is so that one might wish one’s wife or sister painted — neither idealized nor made a protest for cleverness, but studied with attention and respect for the expression of such beauty of person or character as might exist.” For an illustration, writes W. L. Carrigan, of his approach and aim in portraiture, “it need only be stated that, after viewing an exhibition ol portraits by Raeburn, his comment was that they were ‘likenesses not portraits.’” And with clue respect to Raeburn, however more gifted he was with ease of expression, placed alongside of Weir he will appear superficial. Here we approach that sense of size, particularly the sense of human size, in his portraits; the look of justness, rightness, comfort of view, of being at ease with ease. Idis people remain exactly where they belong in their frames; “obedient to the light,” they hold the precise quantity of it for the distance expressed. The color, the tone, the light, the size, the exact measure of the distance in all these are qualities of proportion exquisitely adjusted by instinct. “the sunset” BY J. ALDEN WEIR Compared with most contem¬ porary portraiture Weir’s will be discovered to be of human size and thoroughly alive. He himself probably would have claimed that this is all due to the adjustment of the background of the head. In the portrait of his brother, Colonel Weir, the background turns upon the tones of grey yellow: and so exactly is it ex¬ pressed in tone and distance back of the head, that only one long struggling with such a problem will be able to understand the superb accomplish¬ ment of that background. R. M. A. Stevenson points to Velasquez’s “faun colored backgrounds of extreme simplicity.” The chief glory of the “extreme simplicity” is the exactness with which they are tuned to the head and figure. However, though this problem of beauty may not interest all painters, it interests all of fine sight and feeling — all who are willing to labor in order fully to express what interests them. In his landscapes Weir adopted the methods of the Impressionists, and there was an exhibition in which he participated with Twachtman, Monet april 1922 one twenty-nine inceROACionAL staott© and Bernard. With Twacht- man, Weir became the channel through which American landscape painting re¬ ceived the impetus that places it in so high a position today. Rodin wrote: “There is in America a renaissance of landscape painting equalled only by the Italian Renaissance in archi¬ tecture." It was ol such importance that even now lew Americans appreciate its full significance. Royal Cortissoz says of his landscapes: “Weir recognized by instinct the perfect work of art. He painted the figure in fine adequacy as he drew it in his few etchings. When he turned to land¬ scapes he added to that adequacy the charm of his figure paintings. When he painted one of these landscapes of his he gave it the delicate visionary loveliness of a dream, yet he left the picture the unmistakable portrait of a place.’’ “Pan and the Wolf,” “Three Trees,” “The Red Bridge," “The Factory Village,” and that amaz¬ ing “Building of the Dam” — in these is evident that quality of a dream. Although there came a flood-time of honors ELINOR BY J. ALDEN WEIR (from 1900 to his death in 1919), with the National Government appointing him on its Commission of Fine Arts, and with the National Academy electing him to its presidency (19 15- 19 19) and with gold and silver medals coming from Paris, St. Louis, San Francisco, the Chicago Art Institute, the Corcoran Gallery at Wash¬ ington, the Carnegie at Pittsburgh and the Penn¬ sylvania Academy, still only a few had really appreciated the distinguished, gentle, fine art of J. Alden Weir. But here and there among the gentlefolk of America you will find a painting of roses by Weir that will compel you to pause and worship at the shrine where Weir bowed down in rever¬ ence of the beautiful. It was seldom that his own work seemed to him adequate. He would say, “Pretty good,” when he liked his work. 1 remember a very beautiful portrait I once saw in the old Tenth Street studio. I was enjoying it tremendously when he said, “Oh, that! By Jove, they gave me a gold medal on it, and as soon as it got back I saw what was wrong with it and scraped it down. I’ll fix it some of these days.” It was true, he had scraped it down smooth as ivory. On the other hand, though he criticised his own work without mercy, he always found something good to say of a young artist’s efforts, and many of them owed to him even more substantial support than praise. Many stories are told ol Weir and Twachtman; how Weir tried to sell Twachtman’s paintings to a Fifth Avenue dealer who held his hands aloft and exclaimed, “Why doesn’t he paint beautiful fields with flowers in the foreground and a brook rushing over pebbles? Why does he paint such dismal swamps?” Of his youthful idol, Bastien-Lepage, Weir once wrote: “I see in all his work that observation and individual rendering of whatever he under¬ took, that made him one of the first men of his time, and when speaking of his work I include all one thirty APRIL 922 mceRHACionAL of it, botli early and late. > . He was uneven at times, and sometimes failed en¬ tirely; yet who but mediocre men do not make failures? He who dares and fails is often greater than he who enjoys popular renown. Bastien certainly had the courage of his convictions, and dared to dare. “Bastien enjoyed out- of-doors nature, both in art and in life. The peasants in the fields were among his earliest observations. His impressions were keen and strong, and he admired and respected the laborer who tilled the soil. The subjects he chose were closely ob¬ served, but from a different viewpoint irom those paint- f ers who had preceded him. | Prettiness and daintiness of J form or feature he put aside | for the beauty that lies in j the individuality and char- [ acter of the peasant. His I mind was not biased by the j traditional; he put down 1 clearly that which he | observed, producing the impression at times of an almost scientific tendency in his art.” More than one great artist has said that night is too difficult for him to paint, as impossible as electric light. Yet Weir painted night. The glory of its beauty is in “The Hunter’s Moon,” “The Coon Hunt,” “Moonlight and Lantern Light,” the “Nocturne from the Plaza,” sparkling and colorful, and “The Shadow of My Studio.” Ryder and Blakelock knew with him the poetry and mystery of night. Certain it is that in his canvases are the charm of the stillness of the day long gone, and night nestled over the gently active city, or a woodland at rest. There is music in the night air, youth, and refreshing revery — and Weir took it up tenderly, lovingly, and gave us the glorious color of its witching hours, its sparkle in the city, and the silver glow of moonlight over the countryside. Perhaps in the long solitude of his fishing trips, when night was his only companion and he waited long for the bass to bite, his ob¬ THE LETTER BY J. ALDEN WEIR serving mind learned deep facts. But whatever the source of his understanding, his nocturnes are like Riley’s “nights that come down the dark pathway of dusk; with stars in their tresses, and odors ot musk in their moon-woven raiments — bespangled with dews and looped up with lilies, for lovers to use in songs that they sing.” It is already claimed for Weir that he is “a man for the ages.” His paintings, scattered over the country like a deposit ol line gold, are not for hurrying, rushing, thoughtless enthusiasts, but for those who can discern the genuine and the real. With his keen perception he saw through the mists of hurry and haste to the eternal verities lying back ot them for only the wise and reverent to discover, and because his own devo¬ tion to the beautiful and true burned like some sacred fire before an altar, his art will forever be an inspiration to all those who are also stirred by beauty and by truth. [ / llustrations by courtesy of the Milch Galleries and the Ferargil Gallery , New York APRIL I Q 2 2 one thirty-one mceRtJACionAL . ••HIM . I . . . . . . . . . . . Ull . . min . . . I . IIIIIIIII . mil . . . . . . . . . . . . . linn . . . . . . . . . iiiiiiiiiiiiih.hr A SCENE OF STATELY BEAUTY Formal arrangement of water on the estate of Charles M. Schwab in the Aileghanies Charles Welljord Leavitt, landscape engineer : Paul Manship , sculptor one thirty-two A P R i 922 mreRHACionAL INFORMAL TREATMENT OF WATER-ROCKERY ON ESTATE OF E. T. BEDFORD, GREENS FARMS, CONNECTICUT Built by Wadley &" Smyth e FORMAL and INFORMAL GARDENS hose of us who in¬ dulge in dreams have visions of some day own¬ ing a garden. Sometimes it appears to us perfected — glorious in its com¬ pleteness — again it eludes us with transient glimpses of a thing half fulfilled. But those of us who want a garden — a really live and tangible one, must awake from dreams and face realities, for however beguiling and fascinating her ways, a garden is a stern task mistress who makes in¬ exorable demands. And so we must look to the material we have at hand — the size, the shape, the natural resources of our grounds, before we can justly decide what kind of a garden we can hope to achieve, for the house and the countryside are the real arbiters of the garden design. As these vary in form and dimensions, so our gardens must adapt themselves to them in size and shape, and will assume an important role, or be content to act as a simple background for an unpretentious house. For withal, there must be a har¬ mony and unity between the house and garden just as an individual should reveal some¬ thing of his personality in the garments he wears. Though the scope of garden planning is wonderfully elastic — and this is one of its greatest charms — we can, broadly speaking, narrow the type of its design down to two styles, the informal or picturesque (or, if we so wish to call it, the romantic garden) and the formal or classic. Their very names reveal their intentions. The classic garden became the true expression of the times, and reached its highest perfection, when stately houses and splendid estates invited and demanded ceremonious living. The fashion was to entertain much out of doors, and the garden was designed as a fitting background not only for the palace, the baronial hall or spacious villa, but for the formal fetes and garden parties which took place in the open. The landscape architect was thus given splendid opportunities for displaying in his plans all he knew of balance, The art of man makes nature yield classic stateliness or lively romance * * • by □ HANNA TACHAU □ . V it— i APRIL 1922 one thirty-three mceRnAcionAL smmo STEPS TREATED IN A FORMAL MANNER - VISTA ON THE ESTATE OF ROBERT S. BREWSTER, MT. KISCO, NEW YORK Designed by Delano &" Aldricb; planted by Wadley & Smythe proportion and unity, and some of the wonderful old gardens of Italy, and later of France and Eng¬ land, still bear evidence of the finely conceived arrangement and carefully considered effects that made possible their final accomplishment. They still reap the benefits of intelligent planning. When the plans of the formal garden are faith¬ fully carried out, each architectual detail care¬ fully balancing some prearranged natural effect, the completed garden finds its perfection in a comparatively short time. It needs then only to be cared for and maintained. Its studied care pre¬ cludes all possibilities for nature to reveal caprices, nor can she recklessly devise surprises of her own — for the carefully clipped hedges, formal paved walks, immaculate lawns and correctly arranged flowers, all are made to appear in orderly array. But even here there is ever present the beauty and the varying mood of light and color that come with the changing seasons, and there is the evanescent charm that time alone can give to the texture of stone and brick and wood, and the luxuriance of growth that the years can bring to trees and shrub¬ bery. And unless there is a true partnership between architect and nature, and unless they work harmoni¬ ously together, nothing fine can be achieved, for though man can play the guide, nature must graciously re¬ spond and bring to fruition his plans and fancies. In the beginning of the eighteenth century more democratic ideals of life came to take the place of the older formalities and living became simpler and less artificial. This new impulse was immediately expressed in what was known as the romantic movement in landscape gardening, which grew out of the desire to turn direct to nature for inspiration, to try to capture her mystery and beauty and bring them to one’s very doors. The result was that gardens became spots of rural loveliness that gave no hint that man’s cunning devised their plan. The ro¬ mantic garden is as definitely the result ot a care¬ fully studied design as are the more elaborate and more apparent effects of the formal. It is difficult for the layman to believe this, because in the formal we can, almost from the beginning, see the designer’s intent, while the informal garden is slow to unfold its scheme. In planning such a garden, much depends upon what the grounds have to offer, whether the country is flat or hilly, or whether it possesses rocks and water and fine old trees; for every in¬ herent bit of beauty the place offers is utilized and made the most of. But what is not there can be artificially introduced, so that an illusion is created whose glamor affords one much the same thrill that one experiences in the spontaneous heart of the woods. Perhaps the maker ol an informal or picturesque garden receives his great¬ est homage when some one viewing it for the first time, excited by its sylvan loveliness exclaims, one th irty-jour APR L 9 2 2 mreRnAcionAL “This is God-made; surely no mere man has had his hand in creating this!’’ And yet not only is man capable of enhancing and emphasizing what nature provides, but his craft en¬ ables him to transform bar¬ ren, flat surfaces into de¬ lightful garden spots that defy recognition of their early state. But when there are some natural points of interest ready at hand, such as a glade, a brook, a clump of trees or a group of rugged rocks, they may be used as a nucleus from which to work out a garden scheme. And this gives each garden an individuality of its own, and presents problems so varied in their requirements, that both the architect and the owner have wide scope for displaying to the fullest both their taste and their practical ingenuity. Much of the success of a garden design — whether it be of the formal or in¬ formal type — depends upon the treatment of the various elements that go to make up the garden as a whole. Water, paths, architectural features, boundaries, practical requirements and all other details must be considered. Each must be treated as of importance, yet so dealt with that a balance is maintained and none will obtrude itself and become too dominant in the scheme as a whole. Water has infinite possibilities, and lends itself graciously to all types of gardens. The architect never tires of studying its varied effects and he has learned how to gain animation, sparkle, and a certain joyousness by introducing foaming, dancing water, or producing scenic grandeur by the splendor of thundering cascades or the sweet languor of repose by the murmur of running water. And his knowledge must further include that of the engineer in managing pipes and drains and that of the artist in realizing that color and sound are an essential part of the magic he wields. In a formal treatment, the shapes of closed-in silent pools and the varied mouldings for stone basins are influenced by the design of their sur¬ roundings. Often the hard lines of copings are IIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMMIIIIIIIIHIIIIItllllllllllllllllMIIIIIMIIIIIIIMIIHIinilllllllllllllMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIfllHIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIHIIIIIIHIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIHIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIHItllllllMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIr? STEPS TREATED IN AN INFORMAL OR PICTURESQUE MANNER GARDEN OF F. E. DRURY, CLEVELAND, OHIO Courtesy of Vitale , Brinckerhoff & Geiffert , landscape architects softened by the introduction of vines or they may be edged with reeds or aquatic plants. If the line is to be accentuated, grass is grown up to the very edge of the coping. With the motor power we now possess, it is not difficult to re-utilize water again and again, and so make possible the feeding of fountains, whose tall, slender sprays reach up¬ ward to the sky and whose waters flow back again into a basin that stands ready to catch each glistening drop. Still pools of water can be carefully planned, keeping in mind their surroundings, their depth, their color beneath the water, the necessary height of the bank and the selection of trees and foliage that will produce the most interesting color reflections. Small lakes with islands planted m their centers, with groups of trees stationed like sentinels to produce a desired effect, wall fountains, and sculpture, all are part of the material utilized in building the formal garden. The aim of apkil 19 22 one thirty -five inceRnAcionAL IN A WORLD OF ROMANCE A little picturesque lake made wholly by the hand of man Estate of L. V. Lockwood, Riverside, Connecticut Courtesy oj Vitale. Brinckerhoff & GeiJJert , landscape architects one thirty-six APRIL 922 mceRnAcionAL The informal garden, on the other hand, is to hide all traces of boundaries and restraints. A brook or pool may be built by artificial means, but moss and rocks are used as nature would use them. Banks reveal no restraining walls, and plants and flowers are introduced that naturally grow in or near water. Here again, the contour of a body of water, though apparently the off¬ spring of nature’s whim, is carefully studied and made to fit in with the plan, just as in the formal garden. With a knowledge of perspective, it can be made to give the impression of great spaces with glimpses of woodland beyond, when in reality the ground it occupies may cover an area which is surprisingly small. Water when restrained can be utilized to form lakes or pools for reflection, which have a distinct decorative effect. But water in motion captivates the imagination, stirs life to vivacity and anima¬ tion as no one other element is capable of doing. Water makes possible the bringing within our vision of fish and other little crea¬ tures whose exist¬ ence adds interest to our own, and it proves a strong attraction to birds that bathe in its shallow pools and hover about in its misty coolness. A quiet pool offers a mirror to the trees and sky and repeats their forms anew at every angle. When its surface is ruffled by the wind there is the fascina¬ tion of rhythmic motion in the ripple after ripple with which it beats against its margin. Or if it flows in a slender stream, it seems to give especial character to the surrounding trees and flowers. We would do well to follow the precepts of the Italians, who perhaps best understood the possi¬ bilities and mastery of water. They built their villas high up where mountain streams were plenti¬ ful, and they utilized this supply with consum¬ mate skill. They believed that water was the life, the fundamental element, the most beautiful ornament a garden could possess, and they used it in its every form to create the most original and the most entrancing water-gardens in the world. FORMAL VISTA WITH FORMAL PLANTING - ESTATE OF BRADLEY MARTIN, WESTBURY, LONG ISLAND (FORMERLY THE H. P. DURYEA ESTATE) Courtesy oj Wadley & Smytbe, landscape architects APRIL I Q 2 2 one thirty-seven mceRnACionAi Grim Gjmbolism in New Danse Macat a can re DEATH MARCHES ” BY PERCY SMITH Terribly be keeps step with the serried ranks DEATH PONDERS " BY PERCY SMITH Amid desolation he takes thought oj man's destiny one thirty -eight APRIL Q 2 2 mceRnAcionAL iiiiini;, . . . . uni) . . . . . . . in . . . . . min . iiiiiimim . . . . . ilium . . . . . . . . . mini . . . . “ DEATH WAITS ” BY PERCY SMITH 7L Modern DmC'L OF DEATH ercy Smith, in some notes he set down in rela¬ tion to the seven etched plates en¬ titled “The Dance of Death: 1914-1918,” wrote “The function of Art is to keep alive the spirit of great happenings.” And he continued, “whether these happenings were pleasant or unpleasant to humanity, whether the happenings created un¬ happiness or happiness, is not the point.” With this as an art faith, it is natural that this young English etcher should have chosen Death as the theme of his soldier experiences in Belgium and France between 1915 and 1917; for the enormous lists of fatalities are the overwhelming “spirit of great happenings” left to us by the World War. M oreover the Macaber element in art, that was born of the all-pervading association with the idea of death due to the horrors of the Hundred Years’ War and the Black Plague, has a recurrence alter every great conflict in one form or another. In common with every artist who has employed this “death motive,” as oper¬ atic commentators style it, Mr. Smith has combined the literal with the imaginative in his plates. His soldiers are the men of the British and, in one instance, the German armies. They are the men he saw in the trenches, in dugouts, on the march. They are as matter-of-fact as soldiers always are. And always they are moving to the measures, sounding in their ears, sung by Death for his unending dance. Above all else man’s terror ol death pervades these plates, it is their dominating emotion. Al¬ though the artist makes no pretensions of preach¬ ing or advancing any views, in theme his etchings are powerful and grim arguments against wars. It is the feeling of the inescapable hand ol Death that makes this artist’s compositions so vivid, so realistic, so compelling in their Macaber quality. The sense of Death’s arrestive moments is to be noted in the print “Death Forbids,” when the skeleton with hood thrown back puts out an ad¬ monitory hand. His compelling, forward-going Percy Smith’s series of grim and terrible etch¬ ings based on the stark¬ ness of 1914-1918 APRIL IC;22 one thirty- nine mreRDACionAL iers lows lernLle (_ aprice “death FORBIDS,, BY PERCY SMITH Not man's will but Death’s own is master here “death refuses” BY PERCY SMITH When be is indij- erent , bis cruelty is keenest one forty april 1922 mceRnAcionAL power is present in “Death deaih intoxicated bayonet of the soldier indicates 4- i >> i r r r ■ BV PERCY SMITH J Marches, the figure swathed in he shall presently drink again. its robes, the serried ranks of squads bent in their effort to reach the goal their invisible commander has set for them. Most impressive of all, for sheer gripping power and horror, is the “Death Awed,” Death halting his dance long enough to contem¬ plate the most repulsive fruits of his work, shocked into a momentary attitude of infinite regret for the desolation he has wrought. But, in the artist’s perceptions and interpreta¬ tions of the Dance, this is only momentary. In the succeeding print we see that “Death Refuses” the boon of his release for the suffering, wounded men in the trench. Again “Death Ponders” beside the prone figure of an infantryman on the battle¬ field, shrouded, mysterious, portentous of re¬ strained power to blast another life forever. “Death Waits” reveals the figure, amidst barbed- wire entanglements, meditating in grisly silence over what new terrors he may bring to his human devotees. And finally he is seen as “Death Intoxi¬ cated,” himself dancing in ghoulish glee, the most real of all the apparitions Mr. Smith has created in the average man’s conception of Death in rela¬ tion to War. Here the “Dance of Death” becomes reality. He dances, intoxicated, and the poised It has been said of this artist that he “appears to have freed himself from the tradition of Hol¬ bein,” the reference being to the wonderful series of drawings that Holbein did in 1 538 for the prints generally known as the “Dance of Death.” This is true in the sense that there is no humor in Mr. Smith’s series of etchings, nor occasional satire as in the work of the greatest of all creators of this form of pictorial symbolism. But Holbein’s terrible realism may be noted here. It is suggested in the details of the shell- blasted trees in “Death Forbids”; in the details of the soldiers’ uniforms in “Death Marches”; in the duck-boards and that ghastly pair of flesh-filled boots in “Death Awed.” Again we see this real¬ ism in the huddled soldiers and the trench-ladder in “Death Refuses”; in the dreary, shell-torn earth in “Death Ponders”; and in the wire-entangle¬ ments of “Death Waits.” If Mr. Smith had not introduced these details of realism into his com¬ positions they would not move us as they do. Death would then be a mere abstraction and not the tragic companion of Mars the artist sets before us. “Subject does not really matter in Art,” Mr. Smith observes, “so long as the truth is in it, and april 1922 one forty-one mceRnAcionAL sram© the people’s memory must be constantly re-awakened if they are to gain by experiences. By being re¬ minded of the truth of a great happening and what men went through, people ought to be inspired to a greater imaginative sympathy with humanity in general, and I hope to make my art a true revealer and interpreter of humanity.” Surely no one can study these prints without being inspired ‘‘to a greater imaginative sympathy with humanity in general” and particularly for the men who figured in “The Dance of Death: 1914- 1918.” It is seldom that an artist achieves so successfully, so completely, his conception as Percy Smith has done here, nor with such a simplicity of method. For his technical processes are of the simplest, everywhere shunning effect merely for effect’s sake, working only to one end, to make his plates a pictorial and imaginative epic of the “great happenings” of the w7ar in which he suffered and endured with millions of his fellows. It is also no small measure of accomplishment for so young a man, an artist who has been con¬ cerned with advancing the art of lettering (which requires marked precision for its best effects), that these plates do not show the influence of any school. Since their appeal is universal, Mr. Smith has kept himself free of every limitation, gaining the feeling of universality thereby, naturally and directly. The fact that his figures are chiefly those of British soldiers does not lessen this effect. In the United States, in Germany or in Russia, this series will have as profound an appeal, as direct and positive a reaction, as in England itself. This conviction is inescapable for the reason that the subject is one of world-wide appeal to the sense of awe and mystery always awakened bvthe contemplation of death. It is another proof of the impression these plates have made that they should be linked with a fame so great as that oi Holbein’s. He set the seal of his imagination on his work and created a tradition that artists since have tried to emulate with scant success. But Mr. Smith’s creative ability places his work in a more triumphant category. If the terrors set down by Percy Smith were not true, men would not go to war seen through the tear-dimmed eyes of those who love them. The art that functions in “The Dance of Death” serves to “keep alive the spirit of great happenings.” | Illustrations courtesy oj Greatorex Gallery, London ] DEATH AWED BY PERCY' SMITH one forty-two April 1922 ^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiimiimiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiM a AMONG THE HILLS inceRnACionAL . . n . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . iimiiiliiiiiniiiisimiiiimi . . . minim . . . . “ BOATS, ST. TROPEZ (I914) ” BY SAMUEL HALPERT SAMUEL HALFEKI~(Post'fmpressioriist arly in his career Samuel Halpert made a discovery which others made before him but which comes to each artist _ as something of a revelation- This discovery was simply that schools were not teaching him art. He came to feel so strongly the futility of all instruction that he left the Beaux Arts, when he had been in Paris for only a short time, and proceeded to follow where his own crea¬ tive fancy led. He is largely self-taught, though the expression is an anomaly in suggesting a process of instruction entirely from within oneself. Rather it means the ability to look back into the past, without outside guidance, and assimilate what is significant and essential. The true artist needs no interpreter between himself and the masters who have gone before. Neither does he need anyone to dissect or analyze nature for him. If he has eyes to see he will see all the more clearly in using them for himself. Halpert is such He turned from empha¬ sis on color and light to emphasis on form, and found beauty * • by HELEN COMSTOCK a one. The individuality evi¬ dent in all he does is only the result of an inner strength of vision which impels him to see things for himself, and find his own mannerof expressing them. In 1902, during the young American’s first visit to Paris, the Impressionists were still at the height of their influence, and it was natural that he should have entered heartily into their methods. Men like Monet and Pissarro, who were absorbed in the inter-relation of light and color, appealed to his imagination and for a time he painted in their manner. And when he, like others among the moderns, saw and accepted the revolutionizing ideas which Cezanne was proclaim¬ ing on every canvas, he took with him into the new field the palette of the Impressionists. All progress includes a fusion of much that has gone before, and in their development the Post-Impressionists have welded together certain elements from the past. They have looked upon the art ol El Greco and the primitives from a new point of view and have APR 922 one forty-five inceRnAcionAL SOTDE© learned much about organiza¬ tion and form, and they give credit to the Impressionists for their knowledge of color. But their eclecticism ends here; by far the greater portion of their art is their own and is the expression of definite ideas regarding structure and volume — an expression which in its deter¬ mination to get at the heart of things is typical of the spirit of the times in which we live. The years between 1907 and 19 11 Halpert spent in Italy and France. In Rome and Florence he came into a deeper appreciation and under¬ standing of Giorgione and El Greco. Fie found the simplicity and austerity of the primitives singularly appeal¬ ing, while the sincerity of their approach to nature struck a responsive chord. During this period the artist was rapidly finding himself. He sent his pictures to the Salon d’Automne and, being re¬ presented there during the five requisite years, became a member in 1911. Like many of the other young artists whom Cezanne inspired, he accepted the great French¬ man’s premises only as the foundation on which * * MADISON SQUARE (1919) BY SAMUEL HALPERT one forty-six APRIL 922 trareROACionAL to build the structure of his own a town in Portugal (1915) years later. Both are strong, BY SAMUEL HALPERT J ° art. He has looked for himself adequate, satisfying. And yet at the aspect of things and found his own mode of expression. What he says is what he feels, and this is a supreme quality in art. Halpert paints a landscape as one who has grasped something about its form as an entirety. It is not pieced together — a hill here, a group of houses there, a patch of sky overhead — but all these things are felt in so subtle a relation as to be a unit. He looks into the heart of the country¬ side and sees its bones and muscles, so to speak. In this kind of perception lies the ability to or¬ ganize, and also the knowledge of what is essential in line and color. His understanding of essentials gives his simplification of form a firm and reason¬ able basis. There is nothing haphazard about it. He simply keeps his original conception of volume and structure clear before him while he builds into his picture only what embodies his impression. Detail is employed only as it is significant. Among the pictures illustrated here, “A Town in Portugal” was painted in 1915, during a third trip to Europe, and “Madison Square” four if the two are placed side by side and studied, now one and then the other, for any length of time, it is the later picture that finally wins the greater share of attention. There is something about those converging streets with their lines of automobiles that is a magnet to the eye. The heart of the picture is there. The surrounding buildings are felt rather than seen, and by simpli¬ fying their form the artist has maintained his emphasis at a chosen point. While each building is not rendered with architectural exactness, there is something decidedly architectural about the whole. It is built according to principles which organize a picture and give it unity and stability. The result is a distinct impression ot related objects rather than a disjoined succession of detail. In this its simplification makes it truer to fact than if it were crowded with photographic data; for since it is possible for us to receive only one impression at a time, we do not see the street and its automobiles, the grass and walks of the Square, and the adjoining buildings simultane- APRIL 1922 one forty-seven inceRnAcionAL with which we would see first one and then the other. And yet we do have a very vivid impression which embodies all these things and focuses at a certain point. The picture is a record of such an impression and has elim¬ inated everything extraneous to it. But “A Town in Portugal” is not to be be¬ littled. It is splendidly executed. The sense of structure is maintained throughout. One feels the mass and solidity of the hill, the actual construc¬ tion of each building that climbs up its slope toward the church which crowns it. Again the architectural element is evident. It is a picture over whose roofs it is a delight to let the eye wander. Lines and planes are well balanced and true. There is a very decided rhythmic ascent toward the summit. What it lacks as compared with the former picture is simply the quality the artist has been gaining of late years. It is not that the picture is weak in any sense; but the artist has grown stronger. Consider ‘‘Among the Hills,” reproduced in color. How great a feeling of oneness there is in it. It is an integral thing although composed of various parts. It is woven, or rather knit together, in an indissoluble basic unity. Its beauty has a lyric appeal, and it is because Halpert infuses a a landscape with what he feels about it that it is so profoundly moving. In this it is evident how ingratiat¬ ingly he can employ color. He manifests a keen re¬ sponse to its values with¬ out allowing it to swerve him from his purpose. He does not see color as an end in itsell, but he does see form through color, and the two thus become united, each factor adding to the expressiveness of the other. In his latest work, not¬ ably in the interiors and in the still life subjects which lormed an interesting part of his recent exhibition in New York, he employs an unusual palette without being swayed unduly by a love of warmth and bril¬ liance, or carried away by the possibilities of some original and striking color scheme. One feels that he sees clear and true, with everything in its proper rela¬ tion. It is because of this that he can handle all the detail of an interior with so much success. ‘‘Her First Book of Lessons,” which has just been acquired by the Detroit Museum, is a case in point. Color has been handled here with remark¬ able power. The story it tells is not of a pleasing patchwork of brilliant hues, but of the form of things, the table and chair, the flaming gladiolas and green hills. The longer one looks at it the more evident it becomes just how subtle its lines are, how satisfying its balance and how strongly organized its elements of design. In ‘‘Boats, St. Tropez,” line leads into line, preserving simplicity in the midst of intricacy. The reasons for its persuasive appeal he so deep in its very structure that one realizes its balance and power without desiring to analyze the cause of it. It is enough that its construction is such as to give genuine aesthetic pleasure. Because of . . min . . . . . . . . . mu . . . . . . . i . . . mmimmim ously and with the same clarity HER FIRST BOOK OF lessons (1921 ) J BY SAMUEL HALPERT one Jorty-eight APRIL 1922 mceRHACionAL the simplification of design these criss - crossing lines j never pall. Since only the j essentials of form are placed I on the canvas, the scope [ can be much broader. The t pictures never seem to be | crowded or confused or | tiring to the imagination. S Each successive sail leading \ away into the distance with | always another one just \ beyond guides the eye on \ and on with as near a sug- | gestion of the limitless as is [ possible to give in terms of [ the painter’s art. The pic- I ture becomes wonderfully | complete in itself becauseof S its escape from the Iimita- [ tions which impose them- ! selves on the artist. It has | the effect of not stopping j at the boundaries of the [ canvas, but its hills stretch g beyond the horizon, there I are other boats than these | just ahead, and the shore f suggests its line upon line of j houses. It is not like a | piece which is cut out of I something, ending definitely g at this point and that, but it carries with it the key to the whole of which it is only a part. “Interior (1920)” shows its strength of com¬ position even in a black and white reproduction, but it should, of course, be seen in the original to appreciate the part which color plays in Halpert’s art. Of such pictures as this, it is not indulging in mere words to say that the artist has seen form and color as one. Mis painting is not simply a tinted drawing, using color only for effectiveness. Nor does it represent the other extreme in which color is used for its own sake, with the forms whose outlines it takes being no more than vehicles for the glowing pigment. It is in the appreciation of the complementary relation of form and color that the significance of a picture by Halpert lies. Herein is a distinguishing characteristic ol modern art. It desires to deal with these two fund¬ amentals of painting in away which shall do jus¬ tice to both. For heretofore either one idea or the other has dominated. The painters of the Renais¬ sance were interested in the first of the two — form — and became so proficient in the treatment TREES (1917) BY SAMUEL HALPERT of it that, after Rubens, nothing more remained except to echo what had already been expressed. The oppor¬ tunity for further growth had ended in supreme attainment. In later times Constable, Turner and Delacroix ushered in a naturalistic era so far as color and light were concerned, and Manet, Monet, Pissarro and Renoir carried their work to a conclusion as definite, in turn, as did Rubens the ideas which inspired the painters of an earlier period. So the second cycle ended and again artists were faced with the necessity for finding new ideas if they did not wish to remain imitators. For in order that art shall be vital and meaningful it must concern itself with ideas that have never before been perfectly expressed. Once they have been voiced it is essential to find new fields, new problems, new principles. The artists of today heard the herald of the new order in Cezanne. He showed them that there still remained something that the masters of the past had never done — the relating of form and color in a manner which should emphasize the true april 1922 one Jorly-mne mceRnAcionAL significance of each. Taking this as their goal, they have set enthusiastically about their task. They feel them¬ selves pioneers in a great movement, the fore¬ runners of those who shall say for them what Rubens and Renoir did for the men who preceded them. Who they will be may not be for this generation to see, but they will be greater than either for they will combine the most notable achievements of both. Art today is thrilling with creative strength. It desires to say what has never been said before, and it is not afraid that its first words may be crude and ineffectual. It knows that it will gain fluency of expression with time, for it knows what it would say. Among the moderns who are work¬ ing quietly and determinedly toward this end, Samuel Halpert holds a definite place. He stands among the forefront of the Americans who are perfecting an adequate mode of expression for modern art. His outstanding characteristic is vitality. His art is living, growing. Here is an artist who has something to say out of his own experience. He is unbiased, open minded, sane. His pictures suggest that back of each has been a very decided vision, a grasp of something signi¬ ficant about his subject that came with the flash of inspiration. It is as though his mind were open to sudden impressions of form and structure, light and color that spoke a definite message to him. His pictures do not look as though they had been arranged to order; they have not been assembled. Whatever is there is there because it belongs, because in the nature of things it is inevitable. He is gaining the increased ease of expression which comes with time and devotion. He is not losing the inspiration which came to him from Cezanne. But since the idea which one receives from another becomes one’s own with the use of it, so it is futile to lay too much stress on what Halpert has received from the great recluse from the south of France or from any one else. The influences which shaped his art origi¬ nally have been assimilated, fused, and the expression which is his today is entirely his own. “ INTERIOR ( 1920)” BY SAMUEL HALPERT | Photographs by courtesy oj the Kraushaar Galleries and the Daniel Gallery , New York ] one JiJty April 1922 mceRriAcionAL vrhif 7 apart Collects WE STERN API his article could be written so as to abound in fine phrases about in- ternational art sympathies and the coming together of the arts of the Occident and the Orient, through the recognition by the foremost minds of Japan of the value of Western culture. Instead, I am impelled to set down my actual impressions of the rea! meaning of the great Museum of Occidental Art which is soon to rise on the slopes of a hill overlooking the Bay of Tokio and in sight of the famous mountain of Fujiyama. Larger and more comprehensive than any other museum in the world will be this repository of the finer creations of the Western mind. It will cover ten acres, and, in the words of Kojiro Matsukata, its promoter, it will be greater in size and in the content and variety of exhibits than the Luxembourg and the Tate Gallery combined, and will be more thoroughly representative of Occidental genius than either or both, for “it will know no boundary lines, but will comprise works of art expressive of the civilizations of the Western peoples beginning three thousand years before Christ and coming down to the present day.” Mr. Matsukata is the son of Marquis Matsukata, who helped overthrow the Shogunate in 1868, and who has twice been Premier of Japan and is now one of the five Elder Statesmen of the Imperial Household. In the course of the last fi ve years Air. Matsukata has acquired thousands oi paintings, sculptures and other works at a cost of millions ol dollars, and he has now approved the designs of Frank Brangwyn, the English artist, for the great edifice in which to house them. I went to see Mr. Matsukata when he was in New York to get him to talk about his plans, and was charmed with his amiable manner and his seeming admiration for the art of the West. He discussed Rembrandt and Whistler, Monet and Rodin, Cezanne and Sargent, Cottet and Courbet and all the great ones of our civilization, and spoke of Grecian marbles and Egyptian antiq¬ uities with easy familiarity, and with ability to differentiate among the products of the various ages and countries and schools of art, and then I thought to get to the core of the question, and to receive a response gratifying to the pride of the Occident, one designed to increase the sym¬ pathetic interest between East and West, and I asked him: “What is your main idea in establishing this great museum?” And Matsu kata’s reply, delivered with bland and almost childlike frankness, was this: “To enable my countrymen to understand the psychology of the Western peoples. It will help them in the application of Occidental methods in manufacturing, and in many phases of industrial life. Art is the expression of the soul of a people. I care nothing about your controversies over different schools of art; I buy examples of them all, for all are expressive of your psychology.” Vanished then all the illusions of international art for art’s sake, or any thoughts about the soul of Japan seeking to be lifted to higher aesthetic planes by the master artists of the West. Or, if there were any lingering hopes of an Oriental- Occidental artistic entente, these were dissipated by his reply to this query put a little later: “But don’t you fear that Japanese art will become less and less a reflection of the soul of Japan, and that it will be corrupted by so great an influx of foreign art?” “No. Rather, there will be a reaction, and Japanese art will become still more an expression of the Japanese soul than it is just now.” Thus did he show that he felt the Oriental to be beyond or above the influence of Occidental civilization, and that the East would always be the East, and the West the West. The Oriental will learn the Western ways in war, in commerce, in art, and will master them, but he can never be mastered by them. It seems strange that in the years he has been purchasing, with a lavish but well-directed hand, the products of Western genius, the real signifi¬ cance of his activities has not become apparent, for he seems to have made no effort to conceal it. It is also strange that none but myself appears to have thought of the probability which, the more one thinks of it, the more of a certainty it demonstrates itself to be, that no one man, be he rich as Croesus, would spend, out ol Ins own pocket, the immense sums Matsukata is laying out for the Museum of Occidental Art. Mr. Matsukata will not say how much he is dis¬ bursing, but a mere recital of some of the pur¬ chases he has already made, coupled with the colossal size of his museum, lead inevitably to Nation wants to study our taste so as to manu¬ facture salable goods for our markets ■ • • by WILLARD SLATEFW r-n — - ir- 1 APRIL 1922 ne fifty-one inceRHACionAL SOTM© the conclusion that the Japanese government with all its resources is behind his plan. In his apartments at the Plaza Hotel, where I talked with him for more than an hour and a half, a few days before he sailed for Tokio, near the end of January, Mr. Matsukata said he had purchased ten marbles and forty bronzes by Rodin, among which is the original of “La Porte d’Enfer,” or “The Gate of Hell.” This work is twenty feet in height and comprises a number of figures, and Rodin could not afford to have it cast into bronze, but it will be cast for Matsukata and shipped, with many other purchases, in tin-hned cases, to Tokio. Other Rodin works acquired by him are “Le Penseur” and “Les Bourgeois de Calais.” He bought twenty-five Claude Monets from the artist himself, fifteen Gauguins, and a large number of pictures by Maurice Denis, Lucien Simon, Charles Cottet, Cezanne, Zuloaga, Van Gogh, Daumier, Pissarro, Courbet, K. X. Roussel and Van Dongen. He has bought Rembrandts, Tin¬ torettos, Constables and other old masters where- ever he could find them, in every great country in Europe. “I wish 1 could have bought them direct from the artists. You see, when one buys an old master, critics or connoisseurs may see it and, while they won’t say anything, a shrug of the shoulders is very expressive, and I hate to see shoulders shrugged.” The English artists represented by his acquisi¬ tions include Frank Brangwyn, Sir William Orpen, Augustus John and D. Y. Cameron among the moderns, and numerous artists of past genera¬ tions whom he said he could not at the moment remember. Of Brangwyn’s paintings alone he has bought seventy, and he liked Brangwyn’s ideas so well that he engaged him to draw plans for his museum. He said he could not recall the materials agreed upon, or the particular style of architecture,” but it will be modern, and the build¬ ing will be fireproof, which is the main thing. Brangwyn showed me some designs and 1 told him to go ahead.” He has barely begun to buy the works of American artists. When he returns to this country six months hence he will add to his acquisitions here. Thus far he has obtained paintings by Inness, Chase, Whistler, Abbey, Sargent, Davies, Mary Cassatt, and Shannon, the American-born portrait painter who was recently knighted in England. Mr. Matsukata speaks perfect English, for he is a graduate of Rutgers College, in New Brunswick, New Jersey. His wife was a student of Mount Vernon Seminary, in Washington. He studied law at Rutgers and was later admitted to the bar in Connecticut, but he never thought of practicing in America. Why should he? He merely wanted the mental training. He had previously graduated from the Peers’ School in Japan, as his brothers, two of whom later went to Harvard, also did, for they belong to one of the most distinguished families of the island empire. He Jnd his seven brothers are all prominent in financial or trade circles, and he himself once served a term in the parliament of his country. His father, the Marquis, when he was Finance Minister, gave Japan the gold standard, and he and all his sons are wealthy, but they are not individually or collectively as rich as the Mitsu or several others of the multi-millionaire families of Japan. Their combined wealth would not be enough to fill more than a few of the many galleries which the Museum of Occidental Art will contain, not to speak of the tremendous cost of the building itself. But the Matsukata family is as close to the throne ol Japan as it is possible for any family, other than imperial, to be, for the Marquis, as one of the Elder Statesmen, must be consulted about every change in the Cabinet, about declarations of war or peace, about treaties of alliance, or about any important affair of state — in fact, the Elder Statesmen are the real rulers of the country, and the Mikado is but a figurehead. What more logical, then, than to conclude that the Japanese Empire, whose constitution was patterned after that of Prussianized Germany, and adopted during the ascendancy of Marquis Ito, Bismarck’s admirer and friend, should plan to wrest from the Occident its soul secrets from its art, and thus learn the way to dominate in trade? The Japanese, however well educated they may be, do not think that Occidental art is beauti¬ ful, but only interesting. They feel no rapture upon gazing at Grecian marbles, they are not moved by the masterful color effects and char¬ acter delineations of Rembrandt or Velasquez. Neither are they enthralled by the splendors of Shakespearean thought, nor by any of the most exquisite expressions ol the Western soul found in our literature. Mr. Matsukata himself, who likes to be called cosmopolitan, told me that he read the works of the literary masters of France merely to learn the French language. Other cultured Japanese have made similar admissions. They are interested by what we do in art, and they desire to know how — or why — we do it. And now they are going to establish a great museum of our art, so that they may find what forms and one Jijty-two APRIL 1922 inceRttAuonAL color effects move us, to the end that the knowl¬ edge gained may be used in manufacturing goods. During the latter part of the Great War, Japanese toys and household trinkets and mechanical musical instruments largely supplanted German-made goods in the American market and in some of the countries of Europe. Japan has already lost much of that trade. Her manu¬ facturers turned out dolls with the complexions and forms of Occidental children, but with slanting Oriental eyes. Whole cargoes of these were sent back by American importers, who could find no market for them. The Museum of Occidental Art will help to prevent such errors in the future. And what other tremendous results, from the viewpoint of international trade, may not result from it? Said Baron Oura, of the Japanese Cabinet, in 1 9 1 1 : “That the majesty of our Imperial House towers high above everything to be found in the world, and that it is as durable as heaven and earth, is too well known to need dwelling on here. The only religion our country needs is a belief in the religion of patriotism and loyalty, the religion of imperialism — in a word. Emperor worship.” And Matsukata speaks for the Emperor. :l ) IKS^II CL NATIONAL VICTORY MEM0HAL ■ T* f - 4 ' : |l§§ . hen President Harding laid the cornerstone of the National Victory Memorial at Washing¬ ton last November, he placed within the stone a box contain¬ ing a certified copy of George Washington’s will by way of marking the fulfillment of one of the striking contemplations it contained. Over a century ago our first President planned for an institution that should jrromote litera¬ ture, science and art. Since the war these plans have been revived and combined with other plans for a memorial to our soldiers and sailors. It is designed to fill a place in Wash¬ ington life and national life as well, for it will include a museum, a place for archives, a library, a reception hall and an auditorium suitable for inaugural receptions and balls and national and international conventions. There were a, 000,000 “service stars” in American homes during the war. It is planned to have on the ceiling of the audi¬ torium a star for e /ery one of these, and under¬ neath the initials or name ot the soldier or sailor it represents, ft will form our “National Service Flag” and, according to plans for erect¬ ing the building, every organization or com¬ munity will have the privilege of contributing to its construction in proportion to the number of stars on its flag. President Harding, in writing to the Governors of the various States regarding this Memorial, says that it has been designed to establish “a true shrine ot national patriotism, representing for our country the sentiments that Westminster Abbey and St. Paul’s Church attest to Eng¬ lishmen and the Pantheon and the Invalides for Frenchmen.” APHii. 1922 one seventy-three 'Ohe EDITOR'S f°r AERIE merica’s pride in her landscape school is based on the achievements of several painters who have carried on the traditions of lnness, Wyant, Twachtman and Robinson, and among them none is better loved than Charles H. Davis, who has so wonderfully caught the varying moods of sky and held and windswept wood. The leading article in the May number of International Studio will be an appreciation of Davis’ work, illustrated by a series ol reproduc¬ tions of his most spirited canvases, one ol which, “On the West Wind,” in color, is the finest thing of its kind the magazine has yet done. m ss F. Newlin Price, who writes of Weir in the present number, will give a characteristic glimpse of “Davies the Absolute” in May. No matter whether or not one may like the artistic flip Hops of Arthur B. Davies, who does a hand¬ spring from classicism to modernism in a second, and back again from modernism to classicism in a jiffy, there is no denying that he is one of the big hgures in American art, and that he is one of the most individual painters who ever lived. One ol the rarest and most fascinating arts of the ancients was that of gold glass. The com¬ monest form was that in which the gold design was scratched into the surface with needles. The other method was to spread the gold over a high relief and then weld a covering of glass over it. Only one specimen of this latter method has survived, and this is reproduced in color in the May number as one of the illustrations for an article on ancient gold glass by Dr. Gustavus A. Eisen. It is Flellenistic in design and represents Cupid and Psyche, by a Greek sculptor. fs SS Mark Gertler, thirty years old, stands unique among English artists. A favorite with the “intelligensia,” his pictures bring big prices in London. Though he belongs to the modern school, he is not one of the “poseurs” of the move¬ ment, but a very sound, solid artist, free from affectation. Because he is almost unknown in America, Mrs. Gordon-Stables’ article in the May number will have especial interest. % % The most talked of and the most sought after portraitist in Paris is Kees Van Dongen. To be painted by him is considered the “smartest” and most desperate thing a person can do. The affair of the portrait of Anatole France will be well remembered. Here is an artist who paints his sitters as they really look to him and, to use a popular expression, “gets away with it.” Louise Gebhard Cann contributes a most satisfying article on Van Dongen to the May number. SSI Si When period furniture is mentioned, the mind naturally turns to styles like Chippendale or Hepplewhite or Louis XVI. Nobody thinks of the period of Amenhotep III or Raineses II. Not even the most ambitious connoisseur has an “Egyptian Room” with authentic examples of the Eighteenth Dynasty. The material does not exist outside of the precious specimens in the museums. Yet one of the most fascinating chapters in the history of furniture belongs to the ancient Egyptians. Their craftsmen were masters of their art and their products were often as beautiful of line as a lotus flower. The story of Egyptian furniture, written for the May number by Eliza M. Niblack is as interesting as a romance. Si % A vogue has been created in America for the work of certain modern British and Continental etchers, and their plates are much sought after by art lovers and collectors. But America has never fully comprehended the genius of Charles F. W. Mielatz, whose death occurred in 1919, and among whose three hundred plates are many examples that, in the judgment of artists, take rank among the finest of modern times. He was particularly the interpreter of New York City and the American countryside. He never studied or etched abroad. Though born in Germany, he came to America when six years old, and grew up a typical American. G. W. Harris will review Mielatz’s life and work in the May number. % % Many other interesting and significant articles are scheduled for May. Bolton Brown will uphold pure lithography as against the newer process of transfer lithography, Edith W. Powell will write on Sully, and Sheldon Cheney will present the new school of German wood engravers. Guy Pene du Bois will review Guy Pene du Bois. % % In the succeeding months — but that is another story. one seventy-jour April 1922 April 19 22 International Studio John levy Galleries High Class Paintings qA NCI E NT AND TQ) Modern NEW YORK PARIS 559 FIFTH AVENUE 28 PLACE VENDOME Charles of London INTERIORS Old English Furniture TAPESTRIES TWO WEST FIFTY-SIXTH STREET : NEW YORK LONDON : 27-29 BROOK STREET, W. International Studio April 1922 ENGLISH PORTRAITS BARBIZON PAINTINGS HOWARD YOUNG GALLERIES 620 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK J. B. C. COROT IMPORTANT PAINTINGS BY AMERICAN and FOREIGN MASTERS R. C. & N. M. VOSE ESTABLISHED IN 1841 High Class PAINTINGS Early English American Barbizon Modern Dutch BOSTON 398 BOYLSTON STREET The Ehrich Galleries 707 Fifth Avenue, at Fifty-fifth Street NEW YORK PAINTINGS by "Old Masters” and Modern A merican M asters MAY EXHIBITION of Modern American Paintings of Flowers c^W= — •- nefl Mrs. Ehrich’s Gallery 707 Fifth Avenue, New York JEWELRY ANTIQUE FURNITURE TEXTILES ITALIAN LINENS POTTERY DECORATIVE METAL April 1922 International Studio STUDIOS OF FAMOUS ARTISTS No. 11. The above photograph shows the studio of E. Irving Couse of New York City Rubens* instructions to Nicholas Claude Fabri de Pieresc WRITING to the French Savant from London in August 1629, Rubens said, “It may be that my por¬ trait does not now look as it did originally,” and gave careful directions for its restoration. Unforseen changes in pigments have always been one of the artist’s most vexing problems. Devoe Colors can be trusted to endure. Then purity and technical perfection, vouched for by 168 years of research and paint manufacturing experience, assure the painter that they will give the utmost resistance to change. DEVOE ARTISTS MATERIALS Manufactured by Devoe & Raynolds Co.Jnc. New York Chicago [ xi ] International Studio April 1922 Frederick Keppel & Co. <§> ETCHINGS by REMBRANDT WHISTLER M E R Y O N HADEN, ZORN AND OTHER MASTERS ON EXHIBITION IN OUR GALLERIES <§> 4 East Thirty-Ninth Street, New York Mi-Teintes A SLIGHTLY tooth-grained paper for water colors, pastel and crayon, which may be had in fifteen fast colors ranging from a delicate pink to a stygian black. Using the color of Mi-Teintes for a background a few contrasting strokes will produce drawings of striking origi¬ nality. The slightly grained surface takes pastels and crayons perfectly. Ask your dealer for samples or write us directly. Canson & Montgolfier French Papers 461 EIGHTH AVE NEW YORK ARTISTS’ COLORS MADE BY H. SCHMINCKE & CO. DUSSELDORF, GERMANY Famous for a century for quality and durability MUSSINI OIL COLORS HORADAM’S MOIST WATER COLORS TEMPERA COLORS DECORATIVE OIL COLORS ART STUDENT COLORS fllSSINIOIL fOL(B tEKBTOTW tSCHMINEKESCOCiiS RETOUCHING COLORS AND AERO WHITE A FOR REPRODUC¬ TION Dr. Buettner’s PHOEBUS A&B FOR RESTORATION OF PAINTINGS SOFT PASTELS IN ASSORT¬ MENTS AND SOLID COLORS M. GRUMBACHER 164 Fifth Avenue New York City Sole wholesale distributor for United States and Canada If not available in your locality write me Correct Lighting of Valuable Paintings Correct illumination is as necessary to the valuable painting in the house as to those in the great galleries. Frink Reflectors are scientifically designed to fulfil this purpose. Each picture is treated according to its char¬ acteristic requirements. Frink Lighting is used in most of the prominent galleries, public and private. I. P. FRINK, Inc. 24th Street and 10th Avenue, New York Send Jor Booklet 422 Branches in principal cities [ xii ] April 1922 International Studi You Can’t Afford to Take Chances With Your Art Work Your future success as an artist may depend on the work you are doing now. The brilliance, soft¬ ness and pure tone can only be attained by using WINSOR 8c NEWTON’S Oil and Water Colours Known by every artist of note, for nearly 100 years, for permanence and richness of colour. Varnishes, Oil Sketch Boxes Brushes, Canvas Easels, Smocks Drawing Boards Drawing Instruments Mandarin Drawing Inks Ask your dealer or write for Art Catalog IN-4 INC. 31 EASTl7"'St YORK, N.Y. Any Sketch Looks Better on Whatman VOU know at the start that WHAT- x MAN assures a uniformly smooth, hard surface however many your erasures — that colors flow on it more smoothly and evenly — that the finished work looks better on it than in any other paper. Keep on hand a good stock of eU WmATTMAN Genuine Hand-made DRAWING PAPERS Hr* =w\ 7-1 1 Send for handy sample book of sizes, surfaces and weights — free to artists, architects and engineers H. REEVE ANGEL & CO. Incorporated Spruce Street New York City Spring Time is Sketching Time -Am ■XL /liE'.lil M For the best portrayal of your inspirations, use Weber quality materials. ‘JThey give perma¬ nence to your genius. F. WEBER CO. ARTISTS ' 3VMTERVU. PHILADELPHIA ST. LOUIS MO. -BALTIMORE MD. ON sketching trips, the pencil enables the artist to catch the fleeting scene, otherwise lost or forgotten. The ELDORADO adds a pleasure to these trips, so much enjoyed by the true artist. ELdobadO “the master drawing pencil JOSEPH DIXON CRUCIBLE COMPANY Pencil Dept., 1 19-J Jersey City, N. J. Full-length free samples on request [ xiii I International Studio April 1922 Stick to the Point? — It Wont CTRATHMORE offers no ob- struction to your pen or pencil — No Hairs — No Oil Spots - — No Bumps — No Nicks Drawing on STRATHMORE ARTISTS' PAPERS ^BOARDS is not a handicap (event — it will do its share il you will do yours. Strathmore quality runs right through. Strathmore is painstak¬ ingly manufactured from clean white rags. It is chemically pure — and a pleasure to use. Get Strathmore from your dealer, or write us for samples. The Strathmore mark, the thistle, is stamped on the corner of each sheet. STRATHMORE PAPER COMPANY Mittineague, Mass., U. S. A. Rembrandt Colors MADE IN HOLLAND Pure-Brilliant-Permanent TALENS & SON, Apeldoorn, Holland American Office, Irvington, N. J. Temple of Concord — Girgenti , Sicily PICTURES - FOR - ART STUDY Over 3,000 subjects classified into nine different series covering periods from early Egyptian to modern American Art. Prints 1 ]A cents each. Complete catalogue 5 cents A new series on Mediaeval Sculpture in preparation Send for illustrated announcement jree on request The UNIVERSITY PRINTS 5 BOYD STREET. NEWTON, MASS. Statement of the Ownership, Management, Etc., required by the Act of Congress of August 24, 1912, of the International Studio, published monthly at New York, N. Y., for April 1, 1922. State of New York, County of New York: Before me, a Notary Public in and for the State and County aforesaid, personally appeared S. W. Frankel, who having been duly sworn according to law, deposes and says that he is the Business Man¬ ager of the International Studio and that the following is, to the best of his knowledge and belief, a true statement of the ownership, management, etc., of the aforesaid publication for the date shown in the above caption, required by the Act of August 24, 1912, embodied in Section 443, Postal Laws and Regulations, to wit: 1. That the names and address of the publisher, editor and business manager are: Publisher: I nternational Studio, Inc., 786 Sixth Ave., New York City; Editor, Peyton Boswell, 786 Sixth Ave., New York City; Managing Editor, none; Business Manager, S. W. Frankel, 786 Sixth Ave., New York City. 2. That the owners are: International Studio, Inc. ,786 Sixth Ave., New YorkCity; Peyton Boswell, 786 Sixth Ave., New York City; S. W. Frankel, 786 Sixth Ave., New York City; C. A. Benson, 786 Sixth Ave., New York City. 3. That the known bondholders, mortgagees, and other security holders owning or holding 1 per cent, or more of total amount of bonds, mortgages, or other securities are: None. 4. That the two paragraphs next above, giving the names of the owners, stockholders, and security holders, if any, contain not only the list of stock¬ holders and security holders, as they appear upon the books of the company, but also, in cases where the stockholders or security holders appear upon the books of the company as trustee or in any other fiduciary relation, the name of the person or cor¬ poration for whom such trustee is acting, is given; also that the said two paragraphs contain state¬ ments embracing affiant’s full knowledge and belief as to the circumstances and conditions under which stockholders and security holders who do not appear upon the books of the company as trustees, hold stock and securities in a capacity other than that of a bona fide owner; and this affiant has no reason to believe that any person, association, or corporation has any interest direct or indirect in the said stock, bonds, or other securities than as so stated by him. S. W. FRANKEL Business Manager Sworn to and subscribed before me this 27th day of March, 1922. HAROLD O. RUDD Notary Public My commission expires March 30, 1923 (SEAL) Notary Public ctf. filed in N. Y. C. XIV April 1922 International Studio MARTINI TEMPERA COLORS COBALT BLUE & manufacturers sell for this a shade of ultramarine — this is to decomposition by acids, genuine cobalt is not. Cobalt ten times as much as ultramarine, tube of our color contains the color described on the label. SOLE U-SDISTRIBUTORS ■ ■ r-V FAVORRUHL wrm ©COMPANY lNEWYORK;BOSTON:CHICAGOl LIFE STUDIES FROM THE nude Beautiful sepia prints, size 7x9, on mountings 11 x 14. We publish over 250 subjects for use by art students, sculptors, architects, illustrators, designers and photographers. Twelve prints sent for S9.00. Six prints sent for S5.00. Three prints sent for S2.50. Single prints SI. 25. Sample sheet of miniature subjects sent for 25c in coin or stamps, to be credited on first order. CONSOLIDATED MFG. CO. 32 Union Square Dept. 606 New York City THE RESTORATION OF PAINTINGS is authoritatively treated in two im¬ portant illustrated articles published respectively in the October and November issues of the Burlington Magazine. In these articles, which are of the utmost value to collectors and dealers, divers processes are ex¬ haustively described and discussed. These include relining, transferring, stopping, varnishing and the cleaning of water-colors, etc. Price together, two dollars. JAPANESE COLOUR PRINTS The Identification of JAPANESE COLOR PRINTS is the subject of an authoritative article in the January issue of the Burlington Magazine. This is the first of a series written by W. H. Edmunds and gives useful hints for the detection of reprints and forgeries. Price one dollar. This num¬ ber begins a new volume. Annual subscription nine dollars — post free. Among the subjects dealt with are: — Architecture, Arms and Armor, Bronzes, Oriental Carpets, Chinese Porcelain, Embroideries and Lace, Engravings, Furniture, Old Glass, Miniatures, Old Silver, Pewter, Plate, Paintings, Sculpture, Tapestries, etc. A Classified List of the Principal Articles Published can be obtained FREE on Application. THE BURLINGTON MAGAZINE For Connoisseurs : Illustrated : Pub¬ lished Monthly. One Dollar THE MEDICI SOCIETY OF AMERICA, INC. 455 Boylston Street, Boston, Mass. fr ANNOUNCING. A NEW SERIES OF >3 Alta Art Studies Qliv f ACCLAIMED BY ARTISTS AS THE FULL- 'll U EST ATTAINMENT OF THE GRECIAN IDEAL A ACTION— STATUESQUE— STILL POSES BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOS— 8 x io inches from sharply focused, original plates on the best grade of double weight photo paper. PRICES, including shipment, i for$i.oo, 5 for $2.50, 10 for $4 50, 20 for $7.50. Miniature Samples sent for 25c., same to he applied on initial order. Alta Studios, Inc. Dept. E in Golden Gate Ave. San Francisco J. BLOCKX OIL AND WATER COLORS The finest in the world and ARTISTS’ CANVAS, linen, 17 inches to 14 feet wide Write for Lists SCHNEIDER Sc COMPANY, Inc., 2X02 Broadway, New York City SOLE AGENTS RICHTER MFG. CO. MANUFACTURERS AND IMPORTERS Decorative Burlaps, Draperies for Walls, etc. Superior grade ol Artists’ Canvases in all widths up to 24 feet. *3 1-1 33 East 23d Street, New York Main Office and Works TENAFLY, N. I. Photo Gravure, Zinc and Copper Plates For Etching, Dry Point, Soft Ground, Aquatint and Mezzotint, Stipple and Line Engraving. Sizes in Slock 2l< X 3f<" 3 x 4" 4 x 5" 5 x 6" 5 x 7 " 6x7" 6x8 7 x 10 8 x 10 " 8x12" 10x12" Odd sizes made up on orders. Write us for prices, or telephone Beckman 3748 Star Engravers’Supply Co. ,61 BeekmanSt., N. Y. ANNOUNCEMENTS of the ART SCI IOOLS with photographs of students’ work for editorial use in the STUDIO are due International Studio April 1922 Leading American Art Schools REGULAR and SUMMER CLASSES THE PENNSYLVANIA ACADEMY of the FINE ARTS The Oldest Art School in America SUMMER SCHOOL AT CHESTER SPRINGS CHESTER COUNTY, PA. Open air instruction. Drawing, Painting, Illustration, Sculpture. (Modelling from farm animals.) High, rolling land. Beautiful and historic scenery. Tennis courts, swimming pool, croquet grounds, etc. Board (including tuition), $15.00 per week and upwards. Open now. No student will be accepted for less than two weeks. Limited student list. Send for circular. Reference required. Resident Manager , D. ROY MILLER, Box C, Chester Springs, Chester Cou nty, Pa. A SCHOOL OF COLOR THE BRECKENRIDGE SCHOOL OF PAINTING East Gloucester, Massachusetts SEASON JULY AND AUGUST The School of New England where a delightful climate, picturesque surroundings and a complete school equipment combine to provide the student with a perfect environment Classes: Painting from the Costumed Model in the open air. Landscape and Marine Painting, Portrait Painting, Still Life Painting and Composition Instructor: HUGH H. BRECKENRIDGE For illustrated circular address Margaret Breckenridge, Secretary, Fort Washington, Pa., until June 1st, after which date. Rocky Neck Ave., East Gloucester, Mass. Yale School of the Fine Arts YALE UNIVERSITY, NEW HAVEN, CONN. Sergeant Kendall, Director DEPARTMENTS of DRAWING and PAINTING SCULPTURE, ARCHITECTURE Classes in Composition, Anatomy and Perspective LECTURES ON THE HISTORY OF ART The Degree of Bachelor of Fine Arts (B.A.F.) is awarded for advanced work of distinction. The Winchester Fellowship for one year’s study of art in Europe. The English Scholarship for the study of art and travel in Europe during the summer vacation, and School Scholarships are awarded annually. Illustrated Catalogue : G. H. LANGZETTEL, Secretary THE NEW YORK SCHOOL of INTERIOR DECORATION 1 0 1 PARK AVENUE, NEW YORK CITY Correspondence Courses Complete instruction in the use of period styles, color harmony, design, composition and allied subjects. Prepares for lucrative profession. Courses in Home Decoration for Amateurs. Courses for Professionals. Start at once. Send for catalog S. STUDY ART WITH A PURPOSE NEW YORK SCHOOL OF FINE AND APPLIED ARTS Frank Alvah Parsons, President Wm. M. Odom, Paris, Director Register now for Summer Sessions in New York and Paris Special Course in Paris with FRANK ALVAH PARSONS Address Secretary, 2239 Broadway, New York BROADMOOR ACADEMY ( The Rocky Mountain School) Summer School — June 15 to September 15 LANDSCAPE AND FIGURE PAINTING Everett L. Warner, A.N.A. Robert Reid, N.A. Instructors INDUSTRIAL ARTS Wilfred H. Stedman Louise L. Strang Lloyd Moylan, Instructors Catalogue upon request COLORADO SPRINGS, COLORADO PAINTING CLASS AT LAKE GEORGE 10 Weeks: June 24 to September 2 FIGURE — LANDSCAPE — STILL LIFE Golden Heart Farm Address the Instructor Thomas Furlong, 122 E.5QthSt.,NewYorkCity The School of American Sculpture 9 East 59th Street, New York City Founded by Solon H. Borglum. James Earle Fraser, Instructor. Regular term ends June ist. Summer School June 15th to September 15th at Silvermine, near South Norwalk, Conn., at one-half regular rate. Drawing and modeling from life. E. H. Unkles, Business Director DUBLIN SCHOOL - OF PAINTING- DRAWING AND PAINTING from LANDSCAPE, CASTS and the MODEL June 26th to August 26th For Circular Address: A R. JAMES Dublin, N. H. OTIS ART INSTITUTE Of the Museum of History, Science and Art 2401 Wiishire Blvd., Los Angeles, Cal. A SCHOOL OF FINE ARTS, CRAFTS, AND DECORATIVE DESIGN Fall Term Opens September 26 Write for prospectus to E. ROSCOE SHRADER, Acting Managing Dir. mzm SCHOOL OF FINE fcOj ARTS AND CRAFTS INC. Now established in its own building, offers new and unusual advantages for the study of the Arts. For circular address Miss KATHERINE B. CHILD, Director Room 417, 349 Newbury Street, Boston, Mass. BOSTON, MASS. 47th year begins Oct. 2 School of the Museum of Fine Arts Instructors: Drawing and Painting — Philip L. Hale, F. A. Bosley, W. James, L. P. Thompson, A. K. Cross; Modeling — Charles Grafly, F. W. Allen; Design — Henry Hunt Clark, A. J. Morse, G. J. Hunt; Scholarships and Traveling Scholar¬ ships. For circular address — A. F. Brooks, Mgr. SUMMER CLASSES PAINTING, MODELING, DESIGNING and WEAVING JUNE 19 — JULY 29, 1922 MINNEAPOLIS SCHOOL OF ART 200 East 25th Street, Minneapolis, Minnesota \ xvi 1 April 1922 The EASTPORT SUMMER SCHOOL OF ART - EASTPORT, MAINE - Oil Painting and W ater Color JULY 1 5 TO SEPTEMBER 15 GEORGE PEARSE ENNIS INSTRUCTOR Lloyd Coe, Secretary SHERWOOD STUDIOS— 58 West 57th Street, NEW YORK CITY Philadelphia School of Design for Women Has trained women in all branches of Art and Design for 78 years Specialized instruction by experts in Industrial Design, Commer¬ cial Advertising, Illustration, Costume Design and Illustra¬ tion, Interior Decoration, Garden Architectural Design, Painting, Drawing, Modeling, etc. Normal Art Course DAY, EVENING AND SATURDAY CLASSES Catalogue on request HARRIET SARTAIN, Dean, Broad and Master Streets, Philadelphia PROVINCETOWN, MASS. Furnished House; 8 rooms and bath, shower; electricity; open fireplaces; newly furnished and decorated; bay view; studio; garage; orchard. Long or short terms. Reasonable. Address, Box ioo. International Studio. SCHOOL OF FINE ARTS DETROIT Independent and progressive. Thorough train¬ ing in Drawing and Painting from Life. Illustra¬ tion. Composition. Limited students’ list. Illustrated catalog sent upon request. JOHN P. WICKER, Director Parsons Building Detroit, Michigan St. Louis School of Fine Arts FALL TERM OPENS SEPT. 19 Practical Courses in Drawing, Painting, Model¬ ing, Illustration, Commercial Art, Interior Decoration, Weaving, Metal, Leather, Pottery and other crafts. For further information and illustrated catalog apply to E. H. Wuerpel, D’tr. Skinker Road and Lindell Boulevard, St. Louis (ALUORniA SCHOOL °/ART5 and CRAFTS US ZII9 ALL3Tuh WAY BERKELEY. CAO.irOP.nLA THE INDUSTRIAL ART SCHOOL OF THL PACIFIC COASI t ALL. SPRING AND SUTlMtA SESSIONS WRirt FOR ILLUST10.nl. CAT Is! OLUF SPRING TERM BEGAN JAN. 2, 1922 SUMMER SESSION BEGINS JUNE 19 International Studio ART ACADEMY of CINCINNATI This school was founded in i860 and has a long list of pupils who have won distinction as painters, sculp¬ tors, draughtsmen, and designers in all branches of the arts. Its courses of instruction are thorough and give full opportunity for profes¬ sional training under a faculty of capable and experienced artists. By reason of its endowment, the tuition fee is moderate. 55th year June 19th to August 28, 1922 For Catalogue address J. H. GEST, Di rector, Eden Park Cincinnati for rent c A Step from the Sea .. .. ' STUDIO AND HOUSE at MAGNOLIA, MASS. Studio and House at Magnolia, Mass. Wonder¬ ful plant for Summer Art School. Very large 22 foot Ceilinged Studio and Living Room. Sixteen great double Bedrooms. Six Bathrooms. Kitchen, Laundry. Complete for Housekeeping. Si, 600 to right party — or Suite of Studio, Living Room, Three Bedrooms and Bath at S8oo. REHN GALLERIES 6 West 50th Street, New York City METROPOLITAN ART SCHOOL 58 West 57th Street, New York =SUMMER CLASSES=^= at East Gloucester, Massachusetts In Michel Jacobs’ Color System, Landscape and Figure. July 1 to August 15. Application should be made immediately at the New York address. THE SAN DIEGO ACADEMY OF FINE ARTS In Balboa Park, San Diego, Califprnia CLASSES: Life Drawing and Painting; Ad¬ vertising Art; Design: Illustration; Stagecraft; j Pictorial Photography. A complete, thorough j school of art in an artists’ Paradise; where out- | door landscape classes work the year round; where earnest enthusiasm is dominant. EUGENE DeVOL, Director HARRY LEITH-ROSS SUMMER SCHOOL OF PAINTING LEARN TO PAINT SUNLIGHT AND SEE LANDSCAPE-STILL LIFE-PORTRAIT EAWEBSXER-PRGYINCETOWN-MASS Classes in Landscape Painting NANTUCKET, MASS. JULY AND AUGUST FRANK SWIFT CHASE, Instructor Old Town and Harbor, Rolling Moors and the Sea. For Information, Address F. S. CHASE - Woodstock, N. Y. announces his usual class in Land¬ scape Painting in the Catskills June 1 to September 30 For particulars address HARRY LEITH-ROSS Woodstock, Ulster County, New York [ x vii I International Studio April 1922 The PEYTON BOSWELL : Editor THIS comprehensive newspaper of art, world-wide in its scope, is almost indispensable to the connoisseur, the artist, the student and the art dealer. No other medium is calculated to keep the reader so well informed of what is going on everywhere in the realm of art. Through bureaus maintained in London and Paris and through the combined efforts of a large corps of special correspondents located in the principal cities of the United States and in the great art centers of the world, The American Art News is able to present vital and significant news concerning EXHIBITIONS, SALES OF GREAT ARTWORKS, ART AUCTIONS, ARCHAEOLOGICAL DISCOVERIES, ART CONTROVERSIES, MONUMENTAL and DECORA¬ TIVE COMMISSIONS and various events of artistic consequence The AMERICAN ART NEWS prints each week a complete calendar of New York exhibitions and, periodically, a calendar of the big national exhibitions. The AMERICAN ART NEWS through its staff writers, presents liberal and descriptive criticisms of all art exhibi¬ tions throughout the world. The AMERICAN ART NEWS is not identified with any “ism” or tendency in art, but seeks to be as broad and catholic in its viewpoint as art itself. The AMERICAN ART NEWS is the one living link between the art centres of the United States and the art worlds of Europe and America. The AMERICAN ART NEWS in its editorial columns pursues a vigorous policy, without fear or favor. PUBLISHED WEEKLY FTrom 0ct°ber iThto June 30th — inclusive MONTHLY during July, August and September Send for sample copy; or subscribe for a year, $4.00 in the United States, $4.35 in Canada, $4.75 in foreign countries The AMERICAN ART NEWS CO. INCORPORATED 786 SIXTH AVENUE NEW YORK, U. S. A. [ xviii ] M. KNOEDLER & CO. PAINTINGS by OLD and MODERN MASTERS OLD ENGLISH MEZZOTINTS AND SPORTING PRINTS OLD AND MODERN ETCHINGS and E N G R AVINGS Class Restoring and PARIS 17 Place Vendome 556 FIFTH AVENUE NEW YORK LONDON 15 Old Bond Street DEMOTTE WORKS OF ART of the MIDDLE AGES DE LUXE PUBLICATIONS ON ART La Tapisserie Gothique Le Mus'ee du Louvre: 1914- 1920 Les Chefs - D’ Oeuvre du Portugal Les Dessins de Degas Etc. 27 rue de Beni PARIS 8 East 57th Street NEW YORK ROBE RT*L* ST I LLS ON COMPANY* NEW YORK inreRHATioriAL FANNY KEMBLE AS “JULIA*’ - BY THOMAS SULLY June 1922 mteRnATlOtlAL szumo tnc nciu XJORK. 75 Cents Tk MACBETH GALLERY “Midsummer Moonrise ” D. W. Tryon, N. A. 1892 — 1922 ART NOTES THIRTIETH ANNIVERSARY NUMBER reviews the early days of the Gallery and contains a brief article on Questions to ask oneself when buying a picture This should be read by every prospective buyer. It is mailed upon request WILLIAM MACBETH Inc. 450 FIFTH AVENUE - at Fortieth Street NEW YORK CITY Etrar®iRtrsA‘cii@iKAL Registered at United States Patent Office Copyright, 1Q22, by International Studio, Inc. Entered as second-class matter, March 1, 1897 , at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., under the Act of March 3, 1879 <§> - - - — - — - - <§> JUNE 1922 VOLUME LXXV NUMBER 301 MONTHLY 75c A COPY $6.00 A YEAR Canadian Postage 60 cents Foreign Postage $1.00 President • PEYTON BOSWELL Treasurer ■ S ■ W • FRANKEI. Secretary • C • A ■ BENSON Editor • PEYTON BOSWELL Assistant Editor ■ W ■ B • McCORMICK # ARTICLES THIS NUMBER PAGE Charles H. Davis — Landscapist . 177 Color plate and seven illustrations Furniture in Ancient Egypt . Eliza M. Niblack . 184 Eight illustrations Sculptures Reveal Growth of Gothic Style . 191 Two illustrations “The Lady of the Dew”: Verse . Mary Plowden Kernan . . 192 I llustration The Hook Rug — An American Antique . Frank H. S. Keeble .... 195 Color plate and nine illustrations Van Dongen the Sincere . Louise Gebhard Cann . . . 200 Eight illustrations A Child Portrait by Hoppner . 207 Text jor color plate The 1922 Carnegie Prize Winners . 208 Five illustrations Davies the Absolute . : . F. Newlin Price . 21 1 Color plate and twelve illustrations Gertler’s Surprising Career . Mrs. Gordon-Stablls . . . 220 Six illustrations Pottery That Reveals a People . Maurice Pezard . 225 Eight illustrations A Masterpiece of Chinese Sculpture . 228 Illustration The Art of Gold Glass . Gustavus A. Eisen . 231 Color plate and six illustrations Sully — An American “Old Master” . . . Edith V/. Powell . 237 Color plate (cover) and seven illustrations Guy Pene du Bois . Guy Pene du Bois . 242 Seven illustrations German Expressionism in Wood . Sheldon Cheney . 249 Ten illustrations Feature at National Portrait Show . 255 I llustration Springtime Is Pergola Time . Mary Harrod Northend . 256 Six illustrations “Studio Talk” . The Editor . 262 TO CONTRIBUTORS Articles are solicited by the editor on subjects that are interesting and significant in all branches oj the fine and applied arts. No responsibility is assumed for the saje custody or return oj manuscripts, but due care will be exercised. - <§> PUBLISHED MONTHLY BY INTERNATIONAL STUDIO, Inc. 786 SIXTH AVENUE - - - NEW YORK LONDON : 17 Old Burlington Street PARIS : 26 Rue Jacob International Studio June 1922 PAINTINGS AND BRONZES by Modern Masters °f American and European Art on uoiew at the C. W. KRAUSHAAR ART GALLERIES 680 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK Durand -Ruel 1SIEIV YORK : 12 EAST 57th ST. VARIS : 16 RUE LAFFITTE PAINTINGS cp din tings by Luks Courbet Daumier Ryder Tack. Carriere Sisley Myers Beal Toulouse-Lautrec Fantin I Ialpert du Bois Zl loaga Forain Prendergast Sloan Decamps Puvis DE ChAVANNES Bronzes by Mahonri Young La Chaise and Bourdelle June 1922 International Studio WILDENSTEIN & CO. 'Distinguished OLD PAINTINGS 4t>' WORKS OF ART TAPESTRIES FRENCH FURNITURE of the 18th Century 57, RUE LA BOETIE 647 FIFTH AVENUE PARIS NEW YORK International Studio June 1922 WE INVITE YOU TO SEE THE PAINTINGS WE OWN. OUR FORTY- ONE YEARS’ EXPERIENCE PERMITS US TO ADVISE YOU TO BUY WITH YOUR EYES- NOT YOUR EARS Catalog on request "LENGTHENING SHADOWS" by j. alden Weir ^ West Forty-Fourth Street NEW YORK I iv ] June 1922 International Studio 1-7X1 ci» jsjri 1 OK at Or ' !T-I A Cl J rJ i1- 1 r- nj IE (53 STJ * r) ' r:J i rrJ ir fJ zj _tlj i zj zj 2. 2.1, jii jii J, NHW T ©MSS W®3H1I£S ©IF JU&f3 ^i-p i?,rnm HE 'nJ IFTOEE 0 !P33SIfflnL3S§ AiYlD [ V ] International Studio June 1922 The MILCH GALLERIES dealers in AMERICAN PAINTINGS and SCULPTURE EXHIBITIONS Throughout the Season THE YOUNG MOON” BY D. W. TRYON 108 West Fifty-Seventh Street NEW YORK CITY present American Painting and Sculpture MR. THOMAS H. RUSSELL MR, FREDERIC N. PRICE The Plum Tree” — Theo Robinson FERARGIL GALLERIES 607 Fifth Avenue at 49th Street Telephone Vanderbilt 4986 NEW YORK [ vi ] June 1922 International Studio HOWARD YOUNG GALLERIES 620 FIFTH AVENUE : NEW YORK BARBIZON PAINTINGS ENGLISH PORTRAITS “The Gleaners” by L’Hermitte IMPORTANT PAINTINGS BY AMERICAN and FOREIGN MASTERS John Levy Galleries paintings Ancient and Modern Mj NEW YORK 559 FIFTH AVENUE PARIS 28 PLACE VENDOME [ vii 1 International Studio June 1922 DUVEEN BROTHERS PAINTINGS PORCELAINS TAPESTRIES O BJETS d’ART PARIS NEW YORK [ viii ] ON THE WEST WIND’ L (5 lm.rle$J~fJ.D 'avis H. DAVIS 'J^indsccipist CHARLES merica’s place in contemporary landscape art is so well estab¬ lished as to With light and joy he paints the spirit of Nature in cloud and h 1 1 Is ide strongly he may strive to keep them out of analytical dis¬ cussion. And so it is that in all critiques of an artist at make more than a passing reference to it trite and unnecessary. Critical anal¬ yses in great number are readily accessible to the student of the work of the best men of our recent past who, during the closing decades of the last century, established a landscape school that we and those who follow us may always reverence. Inness, Martin, Wyant, Twachtman and Robin¬ son stand out among many other excellent painters as the great landmarks of our art of their time, and the years that have passed since they left us, in spite of “movements,” “isms” and “seisms,” have but strengthened our respect for them. Pioneers they were, blazing a trail of sanity and beauty that many since have tried, with more or less success, to follow. It is still too soon, perhaps, definitely to know who of their successors will in the days to come be ranked with them. Perhaps we have some who, in the final reckoning, will be placed above them. We are still too close to the men them¬ selves, to the individual idiosyncrasies both of painter and painting, to form unbiased estimates of current work. The most natural thing in the world is to like a man’s creation because we like the man; it is equally human conversely to dis¬ like. But it does not tend to a fair judgment of the work as art. It is probably true that the personalities of certain men — men with an in¬ ordinate appreciation of their own powers — are very real bars to a proper public acceptance of their pictures; and many a second rate picture or worse has been favorably received from the studio of an artist well loved by his fellow men. No one is wholly free from such preconceptions, however and Wood close range, we must recognize the probable presence of the personal bias. Time alone, long time, with its sifting perspective, will answer for our successors the problems about present-day work that con¬ front us now. However all these things may be, it is certain that we have several sterling painters, artists to their finger tips, whose efforts are leading toward the definite goal of real achievement. It is not the purpose of this brief article to enter into a discussion of who they are, why they are, or why this man or that is not included in the list. Each ol a score of painters can rally any number of staunch supporters to his claim to foremost place in the ranks of men still producing. It would be unprofitable to champion the cause of one against another in such a non-productive debate. Probably no one would be less likely to put himself forward for honors of this sort than Charles H. Davis. Living a retiring and studious life in the beautiful surroundings of his Con¬ necticut home, he is quite content to work out his own salvation, and to let time decide as to what his place is to be. He belongs to no clique, has no pet theories, and is far more concerned about the production of works of art than in a discussion as to the school in which they shall be classified. Occasionally he makes it a point to see and study special exhibitions both in New York and elsewhere, and each of his excursions to the city is never considered complete without a few hours at least in the company of the masters in the Metropolitan Museum. For he has a very vital interest in the best of the work of the past and is as keen a student of the old masters as of JUNE 922 one seventy-seven mceRnAcioriAL BLITHE JUNE / Lila! 'les . H. (Dl \ avis one seventy-eight JUNE 922 mceRriAcionAL SOTM© the creations of his contem¬ poraries. The rest of the year, except when an occasional art jury demands Ins service, is spent in solving his own problems in his own way. He is very close to nature, a beauti¬ ful nature, and his studio is set in a curve of the river amidst the hills and trees that form the familiar motive of his canvases. Davis uses his landscape forms almost en¬ tirely as an expression of mood. He paints not a tree or hillside in spring, but the spirit of spring itself; not the tangled, tawny undergrowth of ravines and wood, but the somber quiet of a day in fall; not the snowy approach to the hill-top farm, but the mystery of winter with a hint of snow in the air. And yet, with all their spiritual quality his pictures are as solidly substantial as we could wish. We can walk on Davis’ hills, his rocks have weight, his trees mass, his water depth. He gives us nature and the spirit of nature at the same time, and while one could not exist without the other, we find the combination all too rarely. And we find it most often in the best of the work ol the past that has survived. But while Davis both now and for most of his art career has worked apart from his fellow painters, he has never been without keen interest in them and in their work, and this has been generously recipro¬ cated. As long ago as the early ’90s it is recorded that when one of his pictures came before the jury of the National Academy of Design, it won the favor of Ianess and Wyant, both members of the hanging committee, who tried to secure for it the post ot honor, an effort in which, it is further recorded, they did not succeed. This picture was “The Deepening Shadows,” bought at that ex¬ hibition by Mr. Thomas B. Clarke, friend and patron of Inness, who with In ness was one of Davis’ earliest and most cordial supporters. Davis’ pictures ol the ’80s and ’90s, however, have little in common with his work of today. He comes of a thoughtful family — his father was a schoolmaster of the old type — and it is not sur¬ prising that his earlier eflorts were directed to a somber interpretation of nature in her quieter moods. “The Edge of the Village,” his Salon picture of 1883, later exhibited in this country, well reflects the direction of the young artist’s mood at that time. His first exhibition in America, EARLY SUMMER BY CHARLES H. DAVIS JUNE I922 one seventy-nine mceRnAciorjAL 'GREY BROTHERS ly Charles J~t. (Davis one eighty JUNE 922 mceRnACionAL made the preceding year, back of the village, springtime consciously devoted more and ^ ° J BY CHARLES H. DAVIS when he was but twenty-seven more of his time to spring, years old, was entirely composed of pictures of this type. But a dozen years later a different note began to appear: more light, a higher color-range, and perhaps a more joyous spirit, crept into his pictures. From then on they showed the presence of a firmer hand, a greater strength, and a simpli¬ fication both of subject and of rendering For¬ saking the intimate details of the French landscape which until now had dominated his thought, he devoted his attention to the broader aspects of nature, to the moods of rain-filled clouds over uplands, to the song of birds in spring, to the depth of the New England winter. For Davis is as versatile in his subjects as he is in the methods he uses to depict them. For a time his cloud motives interested him so greatly that he came in the popular mind to be associated with them to the exclusion of the many other subjects that he painted with equal enthusiasm. It is certain that this growing reputation as a painter of clouds troubled him, and perhaps it is on that account that in recent years he has un¬ summer and winter subjects, with other than clouds as their chief characteristic. One of his finest successes, “The Sunny Hillside,” which was awarded the Corcoran Silver Medal at the ex¬ hibition in Washington two years ago, was as far from the type of picture usually associated with his name as anything could possibly be. In its subtlety of form and color it was a picture that Twachtman would have liked — and indeed that would apply to many of his recent efforts. There is something in most of his more poetic canvases that unconsciously recalls the work of Twacht- man’s later days, though they are far from imita¬ tive of that great master’s art. Instinctively we try to interpret the new in the terms of what has gone belore, and it is to Twachtman if to anyone that we must turn to find Davis’ forerunner among the men ol the preceding generation. Perhaps that is why Twachtman admirers have immediately turned to Davis with keen appre¬ ciation, or perhaps such a reaction is merely the natural association ol quality with quality. Since june 1922 one eighty-one inceRnACionAL one e i g b ty-lwo JUNE 1922 inceRnAcionAL his earliest American exhibi¬ tion, honors have been coming to Davis wherever his pictures have been shown, juries uniting to recognize in him something almost always worthy of special distinction. He is represented in most of our leading museums, many of which recognized his merit some years before the general public responded to his highly individual art. There has been no lack of sub¬ stantial appreciation in recent years, however, and there are few private collections of any im¬ portance in which his work does not occupy a conspicuous position. And, at that, his pictures are not fundamentally gallery canvases, as the warm place they take in many private homes that do not aspire to the collector’s high estate amply indicates. They are pictures to be lived with day after day with an enjoyment that only a beautiful thing of the highest merit can possibly give. The accompanying illustrations have been careiully selected to show the many-sidedness of Davis’ art, and they cover all phases of nature as they have attracted him during recent years. “On the West Wind,” reproduced in color as the frontispiece of this article, is what most people would designate the “typical Davis”; it is the Davis of clouds and hills, the subject on which his first big successes were based. But today it is no more typical than “Blithe June,” or the “Early Sum¬ mer” owned by the Minneapolis Institute of Arts, in which tree interest has been introduced as the dominant motive. Nor is it more typical than the spring pictures, of which “Back of the Village” is an excellent example, or the more wintry “Grey Brothers” and “In Golden Light.” Each is the real Davis, the individual interpretation of the man whom all nature inspires. So whether Davis belongs at the top of the list or not, really matters very little or not at all. And many years shall pass before we know. But in the meantime we can be sure that he is a splendid painter and a very real creative artist. Without indulging in too fulsome praise, in spite, perhaps, ol strong temptation, let us be content to eipoy him lor what he means to us now, and let time decide where his place eventually is to be. | Photographs by courtesy oj the Macbeth Gallery, New York \ “joyous DAY IN SPRING ” BY CHARLES H. DAVIS JUNE 1922 one eighty -three mreRHAaonAL “ BED OF OSIRIS ” - FOUND IN THE TOMB OF QUEEN TIY’s PARENTS FURNITURE IN ANCIENT EGYPT o remain in Amer¬ ica and become a connoisseur along any line of art was in the an almost impossible past achievement. Fifty years ago there were few collections of any kind west of the Alleghanies. The taste ot the elder members of most communities in this new land has been formed by a plunge in mid-stream followed by a desperate effort to reach the shore in one direction or the other; either towards a knowl¬ edge of the existing status of the arts and crafts — modern art — or towards the vanishing yet ever inspiring past, which has the lure for the person possessing within his make-up a predilection for Consummate cra ftsman - skip 4000 years ago orig¬ inated stgtes that survive to the present dag ' by ELIZA M N I BLACK, archaeology. A contact, inti¬ mate or sudden, with a Jaco¬ bean table or a Chippendale chair may start the beginner on the collector’s road, with high hopes and a quickened pulse and if, on coming to the fork of the road, he turns into the path which leads to the broad and open fields of the evolution and migration of design, he will journey toward antiquity in a search for the origin of shapes and motifs and the spiritual interpretation of many things which have been accepted as a part of our present lives. Thus a progressive and expanded study of the furniture craft in Europe if pursued to its logical beginnings in¬ evitably leads back to Rome, Greece, Baby¬ lonia and Egypt — even to the Far East — where ideas of no special significance to the com¬ posite minds of the moderns were of most CHAIR AND CUSHION FOUND IN THE TOMB OF TIY S PARENTS one eighty-four JUNE 1922 mceRnACionAL a child’s chair found in the tomb of queen tiy’s parents queen tiy’s chair vital significance to the artists and craftsmen of old. Egyptian furniture! On first thought one might be tempted to say that, owing to the perishable nature of wood andthe Iongtrain of centuries which has rolled over this truly ancient land, a search for any such articles of value would be as un¬ certain as looking for water in the desert of Gobi. But in addition to the sparse yield of actual specimens of the craft in museums and private collections, the seeker may scan with more or less profit the remarkable wall paint¬ ings and sculptures in which the early Egyp¬ tians have portrayed the customs of their daily lives, the events, transitoryand epochal, of their national exist¬ ence and the strange monstrosities — a fusion of man and animal form — which constitute the multiple gods of their weird hierarchy. Following this impulse towards portrayal, which was prompted by the deeply-rooted convic¬ tion in the mind of the Egyptian that life after death was as real and as fleshly as life on this earth, and the detailed visualization of both existences, the preser¬ vation of these priceless records was ensured to us, people of far-dis¬ tant unheard-of lands, by one of the most fugacious and imper¬ manent of natural ele¬ ments, the sands of the desert, which filled in, covered over and her¬ metically sealed such remains of temple and tomb as the vandalism of man had spared. It must never be forgotten that in study¬ ing Egypt we are deal- queen tiy, wife of AMENHOTEP III JUNE 1922 one eighty-five mceRnAcionAL ing with great , tei and his wife . & (V DYNASTY, 275O-2625 B, C.) antiquity combined from the tombs of Memphis with a culture along certain lines which has never been surpassed. Against the word “ancient” we must balance the facts that a calendar year of 365 days was adopted in the year 4241 B. C.; that a pharaoh of the VI dynasty (2595-2575), the builder of the temple of Denderah, proclaimed that the plan of his edifice was based on a pre-dynastic structure that once stood on the spot; and that hieroglyphs of a simpler kind had been long in use before the time oi Menes, the first king ol united Egypt. The opening up to the modern world ol the treasure of the Nile valley by Napoleon’s cam¬ paign in Egypt threw a light into the past which has increased with time and has revealed man emerging from shadowy surroundings by no means savage or semi-civihzed into a state of development, even of splendor, undreamed of by us. One entirely unforeseen consequence of the French sojourn in Egypt was the Empire type of lurniture, adopted during the Napo¬ leonic regime. No one can face this phase of the mobiliary craft without recognizing its parentage. Although a technical study of furniture scarcely lies within the range of this article, it may be interesting to make two or three general observations upon the craft. An important group, though small in size of objects which collections and wall decorations have pre¬ served to us, is that of stools. Possessing the principles of most varieties of mobiliary construction known in Egypt, they, strangely enough, suggest European styles, old and modern. In addition to features of French “Empire,” we can foresee the three-legged Tudor stool; the solid-sided Jacobean panelled bench; the stretcher type of Italy and the Low Countries; the strutted construction of Japan¬ ese bamboo; the square - legged Chinese; the heavy square “Mis¬ sion”; the turned legs and pads of the William and Alary; the curved leg with cresting of the Orange- Georgian; the graceful double curve of Louis XV, and the curule, adopted and invested with so much dignity by the Romans. Among the a curule chair, a fine speci¬ men, shows the X-crossed necks of geese sweeping down and catching in their bills a connecting rod or, again, gliding with all the movement of a Japanese print to catch in their bills a disc which suggests (without being it) the Chinese coin motif or a ball, the llatness being more apparent in the delineation than the round¬ ness. Beautiful stools with turnings which would do credit to any cabinet-maker of any age, some¬ times made of costly ebony and other rare woods inlaid with ivory and imported woods, are in existence today. Among the curule stools of the XVIII dynasty one of them possesses ball and claw feet; another shows a lion’s paws with a ram’s head at the pivot, or, again, with an animal skin laid over the seat, the head and tail hanging down and the feet looped through the frame. One remarkable fact concerning Egyptian furniture which may be noted from the earliest time to the latest is the rare use, except in stools, of the stretcher. Strangely enough, the most beautiful specimen of its use known to the writer is in the one eighty -six JUNE 922 mceRnACionAL case of a chair of the period of Rameses III (about 1200 B. C.), on the walls of Medinet Habu where the stretchers flare at each end into a beautiful lotus flower at their junction with the lion legs. As the earthly abode of the Egyptian was of a transitory nature, he built his house of rather light, open construction, as befitting the climate. As a consequence, no specimens of domestic architecture have come down to us. Judging from the records, we are warranted in believing that elegance and good taste prevailed. In some cases, covering in its various ramifications a space two or three hundred yards square, the Egyptian house was surrounded by gardens of fruits, vegetables and flowers, with ponds for goldfish and bowers for sitting in the open air. Undoubtedly the furniture of such a villa was of a high order. The walls of the Theban tombs, so rich in genre, warrant us in the assertion that chairs and couches were particularly handsome. Playing an important part in the varied functions of their lives — domestic, official and religious — th ey are frequently portrayed. Among the woods employed were the sycamore, extensively cultivated in Egypt; the tamarisk, to meet the demand for harder woods; deal and cedar from Syria; and ebony and rare woods from Ethiopia and Asia. These, and more, were often received as tri¬ bute from vassal states. As cabinet-making was a highly developed craft, we are not surprised to learn that tools similar to and methods quite as good as our own were used, and that 3,300 years ago veneering was much valued and skill¬ fully applied by means of glue. It is interesting to note in passing that at an early day means of imitating tooled leather and fine-grained woods were well-known and frequently practised. Frag¬ ments of beds and chests, often made of ebony with ivory and rare woods, or of metal enhanced by gilding and chasing; and parts of stools with legs splendidly fashioned to represent the legs of a bull, may be seen among the museum treasures of various lands. Two such legs in ivory are in the Metropolitan Museum. Glass glazed faience plaques and ivory were inserted in furniture and L7 XI ( TT TTT I Sy A \ (4A A M A lU k mktik Mk M . / \ in'- fk\ /My AMENHOTEP II ON THE LAP OF other WOodwOrk. HIS GOVERNESS, FROM THE . theban tombs (xvin dynasty) A fine mural paint¬ ing of the time of Thutmose III, at the opening of the XVI century B. C., pictures the entire process of ebenisterie from the wood arriving in the unhewn state to its coming forth in the form of a magnificent statue of ebony ornamented with gold. Beds, divans, footstools, armoires with double doors, buffet tables, caskets, coffers: all were made with the greatest care. Chairs of all styles were covered with fine textiles of linen, cotton or, at a late period, silk, plain or brocaded, dyed or painted, and the footstools were upholstered to correspond. Owing to the abundance of animal life in ancient Egypt, leather, much used for all purposes, was frequently employed, instead of strings and rushes, either as a cushion, a solid seat or as leather JUNE IQ 22 one eighty-seven inceRnACtonAL thongs. With the progress of cabinet-making stretchers were abandoned, as in England during the Orange-Georgian period, to such an extent that bv the time of Joseph’s sojourn in Egypt they were considered out of date. Indeed, ex¬ cept in stools, as we have noted (and then not commonly), they seldom appear in the wall pic¬ tures that everywhere adorn the tombs. From a period as remote as the IV dynasty up to the latest delineation _ _ of customs in the t stool-chair used ceremonial or religious occa¬ sions, like the chair shown in the painting, “Offerings to Osiris,” is seen with a back, low or moderately so, the solid frame¬ work plain or painted with many patterns of decorative motifs, and al¬ ways with a cushion under the person seated curling back over the rear support. On these sits the pharaoh or the god, or the pharaoh as representative of the god, receiving offerings and liba¬ tions. Osiris sits before a monopodium loaded with choice viands receiving the offering of wines and delicacies such as were dear to the palate of the well-to-do Egyptian. One wonders with sly humor if the epicurean sup¬ pliant does not sometimes entrap the god by fore¬ stalling any objection to the indulgencies of the mortal, since, if the offering is accepted, the god cannot consistently object to consumption of such food by the giver. It is regrettable that the color¬ ing in this painting cannot be reproduced. Upon a pale amber ground are patches of sienna, olive, black, pink, azure and chrome yellow or deep amber, as fine in value, as well registered within their firmly drawn outlines as Japan can provide in a perfect Kiyonaga print. A more familiar type of early stool-chair dating OFFERINGS TO OSIRIS, A TOMB PAINTING SHOWING A CHAIR AND TABLE AS USED IN THEBES IN THE XV DYNASTY back to the earliest records is the one with animal legs, either lion legs and paws or bull legs and hoofs, the side rail generally ending in a lotus terminal. The legs are always placed like those of the walking or standing animal and, however much we may be impressed with our own super¬ iority of taste, we must confess that they are more logical than our chair legs, that they admit of graceful angles and curves combined with stability _ of construction, and are what they set out be, the legs of a creature upon whose back the sitter is borne. In the d e - lightful picture of Tei and Ins wife of the V dynasty (2750- 2625 B. C.) one almost forgets the fine points of the stool because of the good drawing and superb coloring. The outer border of pale grey is enclosed in bands of black. On the background ol pale yellow, across compart¬ ments of water and lotus motifs defined by st npes and checkers of pale turquoise green, is drawn in firm outline the imposing figure of the great official. If you for one moment doubt his great¬ ness and power you will be forever silenced by a glance at his anti-suffragist wife, clasping his leg and looking quite happy and satisfied with her humble position. I ler costume, quite up-to-date even now, is en grande tenue, a garment of white, collar and bracelets of gray, blue and black beads, set off by flesh tones of canary yellow, and a wig of black braids. Tables seem to have been little used in our modern way by the Egyptians, and yet in the wall-paintings they recur like the words “I” and “he” in a narrative, ever with the ceaseless modification which a different verb lends to the pronoun in relating a story. Much pleasure may be derived from noting the variations of the one eighty-eight JUNE 1922 inceRnACionAL COFFER OF AMENHOTEP III, FROM THE TOMB OF THE PARENTS OF QUEEN TIY standards of the monopodia, which always present simple lines and good proportions. Always un¬ obtrusive, these little adjuncts of ceremonies or domestic activities constantly appear — strutted tables; the solid rectangle or downward flaring tables with simple or ornamented cornice, and open tables with stretchers and braced corners. After the period of oppression by the Hyksos, an alien people, rude and disdainful of all the refinements of civilization, the native art of the Egyptians blossomed forth with great luxurious¬ ness under the New Empire, which began in 1 580 B. C., and in their “delirium of unassuageable covetousness” the people began to appropriate to their own uses fine furniture and objects of art which had hitherto been reserved for the worship of the gods or the pomp of the pharaohs. Among their handsome furnishings were couches, day- beds and beds for sleeping. Day-beds were often accompanied by a metal mirror or the solar disk and generally made in the form of an animal, the heavy cushion representing the body and complet¬ ing the contour. In a country where animals were so intimately associated with royalty and religion no one used their forms without significance. When the Egyptian used the lion, the jackal, the hyena, the hawk or the vulture he desired to place himself under the protection of the deity whose symbols they were, and when the front feet dif¬ fered from the back, one pair being, for example, of a lion, the other gazelle, or when a couch bore the head and tail of a lion, the feet of a gazelle, with the front of a human being, he intended to invoke the protection of two or three deities. The cow Hathor, for example, was the Egyptian COFFER OF AMENHOTEP III AND QUEEN TIY, FROM THE TOMB OF HER PARENTS Aphrodite, the lion stood for force and the bee for royalty. Astrology had a great hold on the minds of these people and every hour ol the day or night brought, in its turn, the influence of some animal upon a definite part of the human anatomy. A remnant of this superstition may be seen today in any of our old-style almanacs where the twelve signs of the zodiac are represented as related to twelve sections of the human body. Of all Egyptian discoveries the richest in furniture was that of the tomb of louiya and Touiyou, the father and mother of Queen Tiy, who was the beautiful and capable queen-consort of Amenhotep III. The portrait of the queen shown in the illustration loses some ot its charm with the lack of the harmony of color ot the original painting. As the face has always been deemed of importance by the artists of Egypt, we may have some assurance that this portrait resembles the queen and gives at least a hint of her beauty. The foreigners having been driven out by Thutmose I, he ascended the throne and in¬ augurated a new dynasty, the XVIII, which led Egypt into the greatest period of her history, the (lowering of her civilization. Following the reign of Queen Elatshepsut one ot the most notable of Egyptian monarehs, came that of Thutmose III, who conquered most of the nations in Asia Minor and left not only a great empire but achieved the historical distinction ol being the first great eon- querer in the history of the world. That his son, Amenhotep II, inherited great power and respon¬ sibility is shown from the wall-painting of the lad on the lap ol his nurse with his feet planted upon june 1922 one eigh ty - nine mceRtiAcionAL the heads of captives, Asiatic and Nubian, who were bowed beneath his might. To this worthy son of a great sire succeeded Thutmose IV and then Amenhotep III, who did not possess the force of character ol his ancestors and leaned somewhat upon Queen Tiy, who was capable and wise Her son, Amenhotep IV, upon whom devolved the duty of rescuing the provinces from rebellion was totally unsuited to his duties as king and gave himself over to the task of purifying the religion of Egypt. There is no doubt that the religion needed purifying but the country required a strong arm to smite the insurrectionists far more than a priest to propagate a new cult. A man of marked mentality, he gave all his time and thought to this new religion, the worship of Aton, or the power of the sun— a religion founded on conceptions which seemed to be reaching out toward the oneness of God, taught at a later period by the Hebrews. He has been called a prophet, a seer who caught a glimpse of truth th rough the darkness which surrounded him and henceforth could only follow the light revealed to him. Queen Tiy, his mother, was evidently a good woman, a faithful wife and a loving daughter. The glimpse of intimate happenings which the tomb of her parents reveals makes one realize that family life and love are not things of the present moment only. The coffins were of carved wood covered with gold and silver leaf, beautifully modelled and inlaid with colored glass and semi¬ precious stones. The chariot, which seems to have been used for the funeral only, was found in an excellent state of preservation. The body of it was covered with red leather, stuccoed and gilt in imitation of embossing, and the wheels were bound with leather tires. The bed found in this tomb is pleasing to the eye both for grace of form and beauty of decoration. While we cannot admire whole¬ heartedly the animal-human gods carved in the panels we can nevertheless appreciate the decora¬ tive effect of the headboard. These beds (there were two in the tomb) have been treated in a manner of which there is but one other example known to Egyptologists. They are called “Beds of Osiris” and are intended to represent the idea of life springing from death. Th ree fine chairs were placed in the tomb, one of which with busts at the front of the seat and lion paws and carved panels in back and arms, possesses a peculiar human interest because it seems to have been placed there by desire of the grand-daughter and, being a child’s chair, may have been one presented to her by the grand¬ parents or in some way associated in life with them. Of course no Egyptologist would dare to indulge in such a speculation, since there is no inscription to bear out the theory. My own bit of sentiment is based upon the fact that the back panel shows the little princess receiving gifts of jewelry and the arm panel a scene of similar signi¬ ficance, showing that the chair had been especially made for the girl when small. Since there is no one to disprove it, I shall indulge myself in the theory that the outgrown chair was placed in the tomb by the grand-daughter with the thought that in the future life she would sit in her little chair and talk to her grand-parents as of old. The second chair, with its open carved panels of gods on the arms, shows in the panel of the back the queen seated on a little pleasure boat on the water, her elder daughter standing at the bow and presenting her with flowers she has gathered, while the younger child, seemingly a girl, stands at the stern. The third, the loveliest of all, is in dove colors, enhanced with gold. In the panels of the arms are the figures of goats or gazelles, while on the lloor lies a leather cushion still well preserved. Two beautiful coffers well deserve attention. In both cases the bodies are of cerulean blue glazed faience, the one with strutted supports bearing a band of hieroglyphic inscriptions in gilt gesso over the blue. The dome shaped top bears among other motifs the cartouche of Amenhotep III. A band of rectangles of ebony, ivory (natural-colored and stained red), and blue glazed faience adds the finishing touch of color to this beautiful creation. The other coffer, instead of the strutting, has a band of wood, carved in rectangles, covered with gesso and gilt, with a piece of red linen placed at the back to show through and lend the charm of its note to the fine harmony of the whole. Glad as we must be that objects of such beauty have been rescued from oblivion, we must feel sad- at the thought that even lovelier things which were contained in the tombs of the pharaohs and their queens have disappeared forever. But even though the gentle life of Old Egypt is gone, with its passionate striving for beauty, as exemplified in the love (almost worship) which the people had for the color and form of flowers and for the graceful contour of animals, we must be thankful that there has been preserved for us even these few meagre records of their everyday craft. They will be an inspiration for us in these times when we are coming to see, as a people, that life means something more than material achievement and that the truest gauge of any civilization — old or new — is to be found in its art. one ninety june 1922 inceRnAcionAL SAINT PAUL In the two hundred years between the making of these statues, Gothic art gained the fluent realism exemplified in the “Saint Paul.” It bears a close resemblance to the work of Claus Sluter, the maker of the famous “Well of the Prophets” at Difon, and is attributed to Sluter’s nephew, Claus cle Werve. The early history of the statue is not known, but in 1792 it was pur¬ chased from the Dominican convent at Poligny — a little town in the mountainous re¬ gion of the Jura — by a certain Claude Antoine Dubois, in whose family it remained until recently. It is now in the Metropolitan Museum. SCULPTURES REVEAL GROWTH 0/ GOTHIC STYLE This XIII century French Gothic statue, reproduced below, which has recently been acquired by the Metropolitan Museum, represents a King of Judah — a subject which appealed particularly to the mediaeval imagination. Its particular importance is in showing the stirring of the new spirit ot naturalism which gave rise to the Gothic style. Such a statue as this marks one of the first steps away from Romanesque formalism toward realism. It was found about thirty years ago in Avignon, and it is possible that it may have originally come from one ot the now destroyed XIII century churches ol that historic city. A KING OF JUDAH J U N 19 2 2 one ninety-one mreRnACioriAL °7he LADY of the DEW Statue at Old St. Marks-on-the Bowerie, by Solon Borglum ( 1868-1922 ) By Mary Plow den Kernan Bv Old St. Mark’s deep cloistered gate, Haunting my dreams the whole night long, She kneels; encased in clinging white, Her beauty wreathed in flowing hair — The Lady oj the Dew. Many a night in music mood, My drifting hands on ivory keys, Themes of luring tone I played To call her from her sculptured stone — The Lady of the Dew. The halting tones, her swaying step, Mused on together, rhythmic, slow; As though entranced, in harmonies That stirred her soul, she danced — The Lady of the Dew. Alive in marble solitude. Her body glistening in the air She rose, as from a Grecian frieze, And came to dance upon the green The Lady of the Dew. Across the gentle pattering pool She leaned, a wraith in dusk’s gray tints And blue; while clustering around the rim The drooping mulberries guarded her — The Lady of the Dew. She flittered on among the trees, Between red cedars young as she — Ah! jealous now! they screened my eyes As they bent low to touch her brow — The Lady of the Dew. She raised her head, she gazed around In search of Pan or wood nymph near; Then startled into loneliness, she fled The green, sought her cool stone — The Lady of the Dew. one ninety-two JUNE 922 MOSAIC TILE -HOOK PUG / imer'ican Colonial — XVIII Century mreRHACionAL COMBINED “WELCOME” AND “ANIMAL” HOOK RUG - VICTORIAN ERA Ghe HOOK RUG an Jli merican A 'Intioue he “hook rug,” so admirably suited to the Colonial type of house, was origi- Be auty and charm found hi/ collectors in quaint product of our ancestors' home-craft FRANK, I I. nated in Colonial America dur¬ ing the early Eighteenth Cen¬ tury, and continued to be made in moderate quan¬ tities until the time of our grandmothers, well beyond the mid-Victorian era. Subsequently the inexpensive machine-made rug usurped the place of the hand-made hook rug with all its fine, durable qualities and charming individuality. During the last fifteen or twenty years these qualities have gradually become more and more recognized and appreciated. While in isolated locations this homecraft still continued, thus fortunately en¬ abling the ancient traditions to give the present generation an easier opportunity to increase the output of this most meritorious floor covering, it is, how¬ ever, only during the last few years that any appreciable number of rugs have been made. It is very greatly to be desired that this re- “ floral basket” HOOK RUG - XVIII CENTURY S by KEEBLE viving interest will encourage many to take up the old time craft so that these beautiful rugs may again flourish and receive their just tribute. The “hook rug” is generally considered the most important type of rug indigenous to America. Examples are to be found in many museums throughout the country. There is little doubt that the rugs were not only made in all the Newr England States, but as far south as the Virginias. This statement is verified by local traditions still existing regarding the original owners and makers. After all, what more delightful occupation could fill a winter’s evening than “hooking” in the farmhouse or plantation, under the critical eye of a kindly grandmother. The execution, or “hook¬ ing,” is not intricate, but the result is very substantial and often a most artistic trib¬ ute to the amateur craftsman. The best foundation is old- fashioned hemp bag¬ ging, no doubt origi¬ nally brought over in the early days as covering for some commodity coming to America from Europe. For the june 1922 one ninety-jive inceRnACionAL hooking, any cotton or worsted material ot the color necessary to the pattern to be evolved is cut into strips and lightly folded or rolled, the width or diameter varying with the individual taste and the desired fineness of the hook. These strips are then hooked through the foundation, after the pattern has been outlined in black on the bagging or burlap, leaving the length of hook long or short according to the heavi¬ ness or lightness desired to be obtained in the rug. Ma ny amusing inci¬ dents and family discussions no doubt occurred in the earlier times during the selec¬ tion and drawing of the patterns for the endless variety of designs, and the crude handling confirms the supposition that they were generally freely drawn from small sketches which had been obtained from neighbors or friends. This inter¬ esting diversity of details is a natural result of individual taste or imagination. It is a quality SCROLLED OBLONG HOOK RUG ROUND HOOK RUG LEAF AND FLOWER MOTIF fortunately found in a greater or lesser degree in all hand- craftsmanship, and is perhaps the salient fea¬ ture of the hook rug, although the differences in the breadth of the hook, its length, its regularity or irregularity and closeness of hooking give innumerable interesting textures that are very alluring and often have a note of charming personality. Occasionally the hooking of the important details, such as the flowers of a bouquet, is raised and veritably modeled in low relief. This type of enriched hook¬ ing and also an¬ other type en¬ hanced with long and short stitches of embroidery are now very rarely to be met with. It is very doubtful if the hooking was ever cut like the pile of an Eastern rugorvelvetuntil after long wear had re¬ moved the pristine colors, and then probably it was the thrifti- ness of the age that suggested this method of bringing back the one ninety-six JUNE 1922 inceRnAcionAL beauty of the origina color from the interior of the rolled or pleated hook. Much taste was often shown in the color schemes adopted, especially in the earlier speci¬ mens of the Eighteenth Century, which often betray fine pastel shades amplified by richer colors, as was then the vogue in France. These were un¬ questionably inspired by the beautiful brocades and embroideries of the period, modified to the purpose in hand, and time, with its mellowing purpose, has refined and softened the general tonality. Latterly, during the Empire period, stronger colors were to the fore, and during the Victorian era there appears a curious crudeness of color that almost parallels that which prevailed in England about the same time. Many quaint effects in color are frequently seen, due to the fact that the original stock of material for the finishing of ground or pattern was too soon exhausted and the nearest color found had to be substituted the completion of the rug. This fea¬ ture is also often notice¬ able in Orien- t a 1 rugs, where a new dyeing of the material has taken place while the rug was in an unfinished condi¬ tion. Naturally, with a product mainly home-made, such as the hook rug, great versatility was BRICK HOUSE HOOK RUG OVAL MEDALLION HOOK RUG VICTORIAN PERIOD developed, for the long distances between villages and towns and the inaccessibility during winter precluded much intercourse, so that many patterns must often have been drawn from memory. During the Eighteenth Century numerous excellently drawn motives were evolved from English and French sources, such as baskets of flowers, floral medallions with infinite variations in the scrolling, borders and flowers, some of the latter being pleasantly reminiscent of Scutari velvet rug patterns, others less conventional. T he Eighteenth Century “Floral Basket” rug repro¬ duced herewith is extremely interesting, fore¬ shadowing an early tendency to innovation in outer shapes, for although the rug is oblong, the basket of flowers is placed within an arched ivory field, an extremely novel arrangement for this period. The rug is well hooked in soft tans; the flowers are in rose-pinks, mellow yellow and greens. At the very close of the Eighteenth Century quaint “Brick House” rugs appeared, evi¬ dently a pro¬ duct of Bos¬ ton, Phila¬ delphia, or possibly New York. This pattern seems to have been taken from the samplers of a slightly earlier period. Many of the samplers exist today while the june 1922 one ninety -seven mreRDACionAL SOTM® FLORAL HOOK rugs of this type are exceptionally rare on account of the difference in their usages. Perhaps no quainter specimen of long loose hooking can be found than that in the “Brick Mouse” rug pictured, with its three chim¬ neys belching forth much smoke. This is in the collection of Mrs. John F. Erdman. It is notable for the beautiful simplicity of its color scheme, which develops fine tones of golden-brown and tan with the archaic trees in turquoise green very agreeably complementing the golden tones. Contemporary with the “Brick House” are the admirable Mosaic and Spanish tile rugs which were more often made in carpet sizes than any other pattern of hook rug. The devices used in the com¬ position of the patterns, while comparatively simple, attain a wide diversity of results by minor changes of color or of some seemingly trifling repeating motive. The “Mosaic Tile” hook rug shown herewith in colors is certainly one of the most intricately designed patterns of this early period. It is composed of golden-brown discs sur¬ rounded by curious leaf-like motives and Iobed triangles; these devices surrounding the discs are extraordinarily blended with rose, soft greens, pale apricot and russet tones, so unusual as to give a rare positive and definite charm of color -some¬ thing which even adds interest to the intricateness of the curious pattern. An unusual “Floral Tile” carpet, shown here in part only, illustrates to what a degree of liveable comfort fine hooking can be brought when skillfully handled. It is very heavy and as soft to the tread as a French Savonnerie carpet. Squares of fluctuating tan and ivory are alternately placed on the field, bearing sprays of four ivory berries on the tan and sprays of three in tan on the ivory, a subtle but simple arrange¬ ment that attains a most satisfying result. Light touches of sapphire blue relieve any possible ten¬ dency to dullness. The border of similarly treated oblongs is made individual with slightly deeper tones. Very few hook rugs are found with any positive in¬ fluence of the first Empire, although there was a distinct vogue in America for furniture of this type. I he general motives of the Eighteenth Century, slightly debased, survived till the twenties or thirties of the Nineteenth Century; then animal rugs became quite the mode and favorite horses, dogs, birds, cats and kittens are seen in a very amusing array. In the early and mid-Victorian days the motives of the Eighteenth Century were gradually being forgotten and themes of a senti¬ mental nature more or less take their place. These were mottoes, sometimes commemorating an event, as “Good Luck” on a bridal rug; others to be seen include “Call Again” and “Welcome.” The composite Welcome and Animal Hook Rug illustrated is semi-circular in form and -em¬ bodies distinct types which rarely occur in one rug — the sentimental motto type and the type depicting favorite domestic animals — for as a rule either the one or the other is found with floral embellishment and a simple border. Side by side with these innovations in taste, both the floral and tile rugs still continued to be popular, but the tendency in them was to stronger motives and larger flowers distinctly following the trend of Victorian patterns. This is seen in a round hook rug reproduced, which has the extremely heavy hooking very compactly placed and the flowers of the scroll border slightly raised and modeled; TILE RUG one ninety-eight JUNE 922 mceRHAcionAL the center is of creamy ivory and the flowers of brilliant greens, rose crimson, orange and blues for the morning glories — clinging vines eminently suggestive of the Victorian age. Resonant black on the outer side of the wreath-like border gives a quite imposing character to the whole rug. Another phase of hooking of this period is found in the “Ova! Medallion” rug of the reproduction, which has a minutely hooked rich Jaspe ivory ground, with a medallion bouquet of IIowr- ers surrounded by half¬ wreaths to fill in the elon¬ gated ends and a further complete wreath of more varied flowers finishing the whole. Then again the “Scrolled Oblong” rug is a most inter¬ esting specimen of enriched hooking, for on the almost velvet ground so closely and minutely hooked in deep ivory are placed large bunches of lavender and purple flowers very admirably modelled in low relief, these interspersed with spray of pink and yellow rosebuds. The uniquely scrolled border is of mottled tan, completing a rug so very distinguished from several points of view. The whaling ports of New England developed a type of rug that has not been found elsewhere and very seldom even there. These are the “Marine” rugs. They mostly picture full-riggecl vessels under sail and generally were made to adorn a captain’s cabin. The very closely hooked “Marine” rug reproduced herewith shows a four- master in full sail on a pale blue ground, finished with narrow borders of crimson and blue. The illustration of this unique hook rug was most kindly given for publication by Mrs. John F. Erdman. A few others occasionally seen have symbolic anchors or other ship’s im¬ pedimenta in cen- ter, finished usually with bor- ders bearing cable motifs. One other type that cap¬ tured the general approval and im¬ agination of its hook rug day in the North was represented by the symbolic Patriotic rugs; these displayed United States coats of arms, American eagles and flags, very varied in the disposition of the symbols. Our example of Patriotic hook rug is a very unusual one indeed; it presents a defiant American eagle with outspread wings, perched upon and protecting a United States Coat of Arms which rests on a broad plain before a range of snow-capped conical mountains. The border is of oak leaves interrupted with red, white and blue scrolled flag motives. The colors an fine sapphire blue, red, ivory and varied tones of green. A feature that gives immense individuality to the hook rug and that the skillful decorator greatly appreciates is the discarding in many instances of the conventional oblong or square shapes in favor of circular, semi-circular, oval and scrolled forms which have never been developed to any great extent in any other type of rug except the Chinese and then only very occasionally; this diversity of form indubitably gives the rug added charm and much larger scope in decorative schemes. The possibilities of the hook rug are endless, whether as a pastime or a serious artistic cflort for every¬ thing that vi¬ brates with color adds to the joy ol living. “ PATRIOTIC ” HOOK RUG JUNE I y 2 2 one ninety -nine inceRnAcionAL PORTRAIT OF RENfiE MAHA y j7\ees\jm fDonqert two hundred The artist has painted the cinema star as she looked to him — “nervous, disdainful, enforced bv the glitter of jewels and those enormous, soulless chrysanthemums from the hothouse” JUNE 192 2 SCREEN IN GOLD, BLACK AND GREEN, BY KEES VAN DONGEN VAN DONGEN the SINCEBE^ ne of the ironies of Paris criticism is the accusation of freakishness made against that most logical of painters, M. Kees Van Dongen. As will be remembered, his “Anatoie France” of last year’s Nation- ale was boded forth as a “trick” played on the public by a skilful painter in order to attract attention. The public took up the hint and came to the salon to laugh. It was thought that Anatoie France would resent the “caricature,” and it was deplored that M. Van Dongen did not use his “undeniable gifts and abilities” to the “serious ends” of which he was capable. But M. France is said to be delighted with his portrait. In that is meaning. It confirms the results of a careful study of this French-FIollander’s temperament as seen in his entire work from the nature-mortes to the portraits and the murals. One cannot help asking what is back of these accusations that begin with the professional critics and are echoed by the public? Inquiry suggests that the “serious ends” they expect are paintings somewhat like those they are accustomed to, works more imitative than expressive by the failure of the artist to show his sincere per¬ sonal emotion through his medium; it is that insensibility to art peculiar to the critical and to the people they lead. To enjoy art means the ability to penetrate into the personality of the artist by the appreciation of his work. It is the expression of a human will that finally captivates us; and it cannot be denied that the stronger that will may be in its expressive result, the more powerful the ultimate grip, or life, ot the art. Is it reasonable to suppose that any artist living under modern conditions will be able to persist in mere freakishness for any length of time? He may paint one “joke,” but, given the diffi¬ culties of painting itself, which include the personal inhibitions from which most Iree-lance workers suffer, the fight for leisure, food and shelter that permits him to handle brush and palette under a sky-light, and it is hardly likely he Despite Paris' accusa- ti on of ‘ \frea ki shn ess , ’ ’ famous Dutch artist has always been true to himself * by LOUISE GEB HARD CANN JUNE 1922 t w 0 hundred o n e mceRnACionAL :®m© “COMTESSE ARCHENTl” BY KEES VAN DONGEN will continue to “joke” for ten years, or more, at a stretch. When one reflects that Van Dongen, for instance, during the years of his art study worked for subsistence as a porter in the markets of Paris in order to pursue his drawing at night, one can hardly believe that the iruits of this labor have been merely jokes and tricks. When the artist places himself before his easel what does he long to produce? Not the common¬ place. Being an artist means he cannot long to do this. As an artist he especially desires with his entire will to make concrete that which to him is splendid and significant. He is obliged by his very nature to pursue results that extend his life and satisfy him. It cannot be otherwise, for this is his way of objectifying his will, and the forces of the unconscious drive him in this direction. When he succeeds and does produce that which tends to satisfy him, either by its strangeness, or gorgeousness, or strong seductive quality, that is to say, when he makes real that unreal which he loves, then the obtuse and the callous, missing the usual to which alone they can respond, remark that the work is freakish, and even proclaim that the artist is not serious. His art is peculiarly consistent. It may not be the form of so stubborn a will as Cezanne’s, or so riotous as Zorn’s; it is, none the less, the form of a will persistently true to itself. Born in Rotter¬ dam some forty or forty-five years ago, of Dutch parents, in a certain way he remains a Hollander, though he has lived in Paris twenty-three years. He is self-taught, a thorough-going “independent,’ and began under the influence of Impressionism, painting Monet-like canvases in chalky Delft blues. But having a good deal of Anton Mauve in him, and led by his instinctive craving for lyrical expression, with a touch of humor and a sense of drama, he gradually evolved through concen¬ trated work, and in reaction to Paris, to the “Green-eyed Girl with the Blue Hound” and “Venise 1921.” He is quite the opposite from a freakish experimentalist. His innate lyricism induced his characteristic line composition in combination with his color. He has been faithful to his own vision, his own palette for a long period ot time, and by his sincerity to his personal emo¬ tion he has attained significant and alluring synthesis. By this logical and determined pur¬ suit of his individual truth he has exerted, as he himself justly feels, an influence on contemporary artists, rather than received influences from them. It happens that he is frequently set up with Alatisse as if he were in debt, to which he replies that if there be debt, it is the other way round. At the same time he points out that he and the master of Issy-Ies-Moulineau.x in reality are not alike. Certainly this Hollander’s cold lyricism with its lurking humor and vivid dramatic climaxes is a different torm, carrying an opposite temperament, from that of the Frenchman’s. Van Dongen says he paints what he sees in nature, not, of course, all that he sees. He ex¬ tracts the essential. He considers that Matisse paints only that which has been arranged accord¬ ing to his taste, that he is a decorator and has no interest in life. But here is, obviously, a defect of self-analysis in the former, for he implies that his essential is the pictorial presentment of the very essence of life and that he submits to its decrees. Not at all. In his own way his work is a rigorous, though maybe hall-conscious, imposition upon nature of such colors and such lines and their com¬ bination as he as an artist can endure. These in their relation to the flat surface of the canvas have power over him and by them he exaggerates or compresses “life” to form the rhythms, oppositions and unities between that flat surface, those lines, those colors that alone can satisfy him. You may see very clearly in his most resembling work, as in the two portraits of men now in the Nationale cles Beaux Arts, the “Baron Franchetti,” and the “Pierre Lafitte” — portraits that are striking characterizations of their sitters — how little two hundred two JUNE 1922 mreRHACionAL SOTM© Van Dongen cares for objective life, how absorbed he is by painter’s life, the decorative possibilities of line, color, woven on the flat surface, the values and interest obtained in the application of the pigment, the technical means for the sake of art not for the sake of transcribing what we regard as literal existence. In his portraits he shows more clearly than elsewhere, because of the limits on invention im¬ posed by the genre, his ineluctable decorative impulse and his logical truth to his own vision. His gifts of high-key melody, dramatic climax, corrosive satire, are here exerted to present per¬ sonality with animation and a charm that some¬ times eludes the casual glance but wins with time. The “Anatole France” in its arrangement of rather chalky blue and white is at first unimpres¬ sive. The figure has the air of some old, old bird moulting its feathers one by one on a rock. But by force of its line composition, very simple and lyric, and the veiled symbolism of the entire canvas, it begins to take hold of you as a portrait of a wise and witty mind. It is moreover informed by that sympathy with advanced years that one remarks in the ‘‘Baron Franchetti,” which I shall discuss later, and in a charming portrait of the artist’s father, so much like the “Anatole France” that it might be mistaken for it. Many celebrated portraits are to his credit. The “Madame Vandervelde,” a little cruel in its precision of the features, so high-bred and vapid that the face of the spaniel seems to repeat; the cinema star, Renee Malta, nervous, disdainful, enforced by the glitter of jewels and those enor¬ mous, soulless chrysanthemums from the hothouse; the “Charles Rappaport” of the Autumn salon of 1920, resuming in his solid, flat-footed, shrewd¬ eyed person, the entire Internationale . The portraits in the Nationale des Beaux Arts show how entertaining and suggestive portraiture may be by the decorative solution. The first view of the “Baron Franchetti” gives the impression that it is “washed out,” the general harmony is in so pale a key. But you look again and you soon feel it is nothing of the sort. It vibrates, grows richer, as you contemplate it. An elderly stout man sits astride a small chair, its back be¬ tween his legs. He wears a soft yellowish grey felt hat from underneath which flows thin curly strings of fawn colored hair, as silky in texture as a child’s. In the button hole of the grey coat is a red rose with a green leaf and on the hand a yellow high light flashes from a ring. The face is singular and very European with its melancholy eyes and expression of resigned bitterness not unaliied to a complete material comfort and leisure. It is accented on “madame vandervelde” by kees van dongen the side of the nose with strong emerald shadows put on with a loaded brush in long peremptory strokes. This acid hue is balanced by orange and red and the figure is relieved against a cloudy grey-blue background, which is intended, so the artist tells me, to give the feeling of the discon¬ tented mentality of the sitter. We perceive the movement of regret in his curious eyes, the burden of reminiscence, the chill of acknowledged age. Teased by a certain secret of life that seems to promise revelation, we keep returning. The “Pierre Lafitte” in spite of its out-door atmosphere, with the trees of the Bois for back¬ ground, is much less lyrical than its companion. Its cold blacks and greys in contrast to the flesh lighted with strong blues, greens, reds, give us a spruce nervous personality, in which will and intellect predominate — a quite American make¬ up. The climax of the painting is in the black tie with white hair-stripes to match the waistcoat appearing above the half open top-coat. T his tie is precisely, methodically businesslike and correct. It is hard, forbidding, without the slightest bit of sentiment or fancy. There is an exact worldly logic in it; and the most repellent and perhaps not the least accomplished qualities of M. Van Don- gen’s art reside in the gloss of this black and white string. This portrait is, on the whole, less sum- j u n e 1922 t w 0 hundred three tnceRnAcionAL HOE© “BAIGNEUSE” BY KEES VAN DONGEN mary than the third portrait in the present salon, that of Madame M. C. R., with her Chinese em¬ broidery personality and her absorbent eyes. And it is less synthetic than the “Anatole France.” The modelling of the face is detailed for Van Dongen and in spite of the loose treatment of the coat, hat and gloves, one is lead to a sensation of precision by the minute care with which the shirt, the tie, the waistcoat, are carried out. The move¬ ment from this passage to the vapory trees against which we see the figure through the vivid flesh and the simple resolutions of the costume is a delight¬ ful and finely sustained rhythm. We feel in this work that the artist exerted his will to depict will, whereas in the “Baron Franchetti” we see an in¬ fusion of sympathy, a kindlier side, concealed bv his curt simplification and Holland blues and greys. It the “Anatole France” is his most poig¬ nantly lyrical portrait, the portrait of his wife, to be seen in his studio, is his most dramatic. Van Dongen says himself that he adores cold colors. The cold glitter of precious stones, the sheen ot grey silks and satins, light quivering on blacks, the variations of whites, these so limited by words are seen in innumerable shades and tints, in¬ numerable values, throughout his works. In them is his craving for drama. In the portrait of his wife they attain their full effect. The harmonies of greys and blacks are defined by the long slender rose-colored hand falling against the folds of a black velvet mantle and by the violently red lips. Like the “Pierre Lafitte” it is repellent. The twist and elongation of the splendid body, shim¬ mering in sea-grey silk, the erection of the head, the translucent pearls and flashing blacks, represent a reptillian resistance and fascination. The haughty will of the Parisienne is felt in every line and hue of the canvas, in the hard precise handling, the polished clear-cut diamond lustre, the poster-like mosaic of the figure coiled across the background. Nowhere else are his blacks so rich, his greys so icy, nor the contrasting sensa¬ tion ot the greens, blues and carmines so delicious. Suspension, denouement, aid the magic. But above all, here the steel-cold Northern temperament of the creator has taken form. The cliff iculty of obtaining a likeness and at the same time of producing a decorative work in¬ terests this painter. He explains what he means by “likeness.” A photograph is rarely convincing. Resemblance pertains to the expression of the entire personality of the sitter and includes a sug¬ gestion of environment. Madame M. C. R. with her enormous improbable eyes is so arranged with respect to the blue couch with the Chinese em¬ broidery, the marks of her tastes and sentiments are so deftly indicated in the costume, the face, the posture, that she is there before us in her whole existence both mundane and psychic. The like¬ ness grows upon us and establishes itself as the superficial resemblance in a photograph could not. The main aspects ol Van Dongen’s form are the cold high-key palette with the unique value he gives his blacks and grey-blacks in relation to old rose, greens and blues; the linear patterns of parallel lines in uprights and horizontals, swaying harmoniously and bound into unities with appro¬ priate curves to sustain whatever representa¬ tive motif they suggest. The first aspect is seen fully in the portraits, but it is associated in them with a less characteristic linear form, in obedience to the exigencies of the genre, than in his land¬ scapes, decorative panels and pure decorations. In these we have the two aspects united in a form that has attained the utmost simplicity. With this he presents to us a fantasy of nature, and continues and develops the lyrical drama salted with humor or astringent with satire, just as we observe it in his portraits. It is impossible not to pause to speak of his flowers, which when not used in decoration fall two hundred four JUNE 1922 inceRHACioriAL SOTM© apart from his other work. The tulips seen this winter at Bernheim-Jeune’s are typical. We have here not the texture of tulip petals, not the emotion they could possibly give to an ordinary mortal, nothing indeed to do with flowers, so fragile, ephemeral. We have the shape and the hang of tulips, exaggerated in size, plasticized by a thick red and yellow batter, striated with greens, held to an elongated oval mass that by its vigor and decorative aplomb can easily dominate a small room properly arranged for it. The heavy pigment flows in such a way that the flowers have a low gradual rebel with emphasis in the tips of the petals against the even slate-colored back¬ ground; and the entire object has the lustre of embossed metal. The emotion of them is almost human. They are flowers from the Parisian florist, cultured to accord with the artificial man¬ made satisfactions of the city and of this old, acutely conscious and exaggeratedly human civili¬ zation which is our environment. “Venise 1921 ” is a series of sixteen small oils displayed this season for the first time at Bern¬ heim-Jeune’s. It was the most piquant exhibit of the season, not excepting the analogous series of “ Henri-Matisse at Cannes,” presented at the same galleries this spring. Each painting is a stanza of what one may term a poem of modern Venice — very up-to-date, cynical and quite the opposite from romantic. The perfect ensemble of this set is full of light, movement, a curiously advised freshness. Contrasts of intention animate it. Melancholy and lassitude in the “Gondoliers”; a hint of the sordid in those strange-eyed “Seek¬ ers” at the restaurant; wit in the “Russian Prin¬ cess,” her weather-eye searching the canal, with limpid interludes where the water sleeps in the sunshine and the doves settle along its edge. The typical Van Dongen simplification is found here in patterns of horizontals and uprights interwoven with daring or subtle curves to give novel and delightful linear harmonies. This lyricism of line is accompanied by accords of Delft or sea-blues singing among blacks, whites, greys, through modulations of sharp greens from the most delicate apple-green to strong malachites. Van Dongen is a skilful decorator who handles a wall with ease. His murals like his other works are personal and carry a subtle undercurrent of symbolism. They are intimately related to the use of the room for which they are destined and the character of its occupants. His own house at the corner of Villa Said, with its windows looking into the Bois, is bright Van Dongen blue with yellow ornaments. Each room is based on one of the main colors of the Van Dongen palette with “PORTRAIT OF PIERRE LAFITTE ” BY KEES VAN DONGEN furnishings, accessories, paintings, in harmony or in contrast. In this environment his decorative panels are seen to their best advantage, and one really cannot know the finest qualities of his work when it is transplanted to public galleries. In these, part of its delicate lyricism is lost. The “Green-eyed Girl with the Blue Hound;” “Three Women,” a lyric of spring-green, white, grey, with contrasting rose; the sumptuous green, black and gold screen, are strong enough to be dis¬ coveries even in their own home. One of the rooms on the top floor is a fine arrangement ol huge conventional flowers, in a pattern ot shrubs, cacti and vines, that occupies two walls from floor to ceiling. A small white ass at one end balances two slender dogs at the other. Birds, an aeroplane, fill an exact role in the mosaic, and an antique castle hardly more than an out¬ line, stained with a grey-brown shade of rose, by opposing a flat surface of quite simple uprights and horizontals, to which the oblong of the aero¬ plane is the transition, introduces restfulness into the luxuriant and lively design. Opening lrom it is an apartment with walls JUNE 9 2 2 two hundred five mceROAClODAL mmm of a cold sombre greenish purple, on one of which is a single mural, GIRL WALKING IN THE BOIS BY KEES VAN DONGEN a white and a grey nude accented with emerald. It is very curious by its linear design as well as by its hue with respect to the setting, and at first one stands there, pervaded, as it were, by the strange atmosphere evoked by the combination, and acutely sensible of a baffling, astringent chill. Whatever heat or commonplace cheer you brought with you is quickly absorbed, giving place to a poignant grey uneasiness. Unlike the adjoining room, this chamber, as will be seen, does not imme¬ diately yield up its charm. Indeed, charm it has not, but spell. Its primary cold repellent quality is in accordance with the strongest and the most characteristic of Van Dongen’s art. It exercises an insidious fascination, all the more irresistible and persistent, because the warning of it comes at first through astonishment and repulsion. One cannot forget the sensation of that place, the long loose lines of the drawing, the unexpected, awk¬ ward and intriguing pattern of white, grey and acid green against the flat slate-color — the whole a melancholy, perhaps derisive, gesture of a so¬ phisticated disdain and ecstasy. If Van Dongen is often (as m “Venise 1921”) light, witty, amusing, he is none the less as fatally bitter and paradoxical as Forain and much more disturb¬ ing. This is because his state¬ ment, or implication, is as purely one ot medium as is the theme of music. Its initial appeal is to the emotions, and through them we attain interpretation. He says things, but solely in the painter’s tongue; solely through color, line and pattern, and it is with these he begins, not with the legend. Once we submit to the vibration of his cold, simpli¬ fied form we are robbed of peace by a curious seductive move¬ ment of our being, a pang, and a longing: this is the power of his medium. It is the function of the lyric to break in upon our stagnant souls and goad them. There are those who deny that Von Dongen has attained anything beyond the novelty of his kind of simplification. But to visit his house is to realize that his paintings grow upon you the oftener you see them and that they attack your emotions with an immediacy that does not belong to earlier painting. Their aesthetic power is as direct, as indefinable, and perhaps as fugitive as sensation. For this sensation the walls and the checks of the intellect hardly exist. It pertains to a little, high-key world of the eye and the feelings upon which the eye alone orchestrates. In these canvases we have no depth, no solidity, few values of touch, little perfume — hardly any of those opulent suggestions of the apt of a Rubens, a Van Dyck, a Rembrandt. Though Van Dongen’s line can be suave, just as his color is capable of richness, a reserved angularity, a skilful use of it, is one of the growing definitions of his art. A study of the “Green-eyed Girl with the Blue Hound,” in composition related to a Van Dyck, shows how summary, and in any literary sense unhuman, non-intellectual and merely visual his art is. But, as I have tried to show, he has manifested from the beginning an instinctive craving for lyrical expression, in which there is some humor and more drama. His choice of color represents two hundred six JUNE 1922 mceRHACionAL his own vision. His blacks and grey-blacks are unique in value beside his old rose, greens, blues and limpid greys. He is the op¬ posite from freakish, for he has been true to his own palette for a long period of time. By his sincerity and logic he has at¬ tained emotional synthesis and utter and seductive simplicity ot expression. This logic and truth to his own emotions leads one to conclude that he imposes his influence on others rather than receives influences from them. His painting, such as we have it, is a reaction to Paris. Had he lived in Holland or in America his art, of course, would have been different; for, say what we will and have as many prejudices as we like, the work of a true artist is always an expression of his reaction to his environment, even though it be a seeking for opposites rather than an interpretation. It is evident that the “splendor” by which he satis¬ fies himself must leave the in¬ sensible and the conservative merely gasping. Those who fail to respond to his form, who miss his purely artistic aim, can find little but oddity in Van Dongen’s work. Is this the art of the future? is sometimes asked, as if our enjoyment of it depended on its “abords de l’hotel (venise BY KEES van dongen 1921) survival power. Tiiere are oth¬ ers who have to be reminded that simplification is not necessarily a cul de sac. The important thing to us is, this art is contempo¬ rary, brilliantly so; and (something to be grateful for) it is never tedious. n d Child ddorh t ait It/ CHLoppner D Although John Hoppner painted many portraits of children that brought him great distinction in his lifetime, and which have been preserved among the finest royal and private collections of England and America, no picture in this genre came from his brush finer than the “Master Paget,” which is reproduced in color on another page in this issue of International Studio. The eight-year old lad playing with his hoop, in a lovely English landscape, was a member of the Paget family, long distinguished in English social and political history. As the reproduction shows, this is one of Hoppner’s most serenely brilliant canvases, not alone in the painting of the costume, but also in the charming, warm-blooded face of the lad encircled by his silky fair hair. Comparison has been made between this Hoppner and his “Princess Mary” and “Princess Sophia” in the Windsor Castle collection, his “The Sackville Children” at Knole, and the “Hoppner Children” in the Widener collection, the “Master Paget” suffering no depreciation of charm and importance thereby. It is now’ in the private collection of Mrs. Cyrus H. K. Curtis at her estate, Lyndon, Pa. The painting was sold by the Fearon Galleries, New York. june 1922 two hundred seven mceRnAcionAL SOTDR© (PrizeWi timers our American painters and two Frenchmen have been awarded the three medals and as many honorable mentions by the jury for the twenty-first International Exhibition at the Carnegie Institute. Each canvas of the six has the distinction of being both thoroughly charac¬ teristic of the artist and one of the finest pictures he has painted. To George W. Bellows was given the Medal of the First Class for his very distinguished por¬ trait group, “ Eleanor, Jean and Anna,” a painting that has been recognized as his greatest work and as one of the finest achievements of American portraiture. Emile Rene Menard was awarded the Medal of the Second Class for his “Women Bathing in the Greve”; and to Henri Lebasque E1EANOK, JEAN AND ANNA BY GEORGE W. BELLOWS Medal of the First Class fell the Medal of the Third Class for “The Banks of the Seine, Andelys.” The three Honorable Mentions went to Henry B. Snell for his “Dawn on the River”; to Charles Reiffel for the “Summer Design”; and to Fred Wagner for the “Old Mills, Winter.” * The work of Bellows and Snell is now thor¬ oughly familiar to all American art lovers, that of Reiffel and Wagner less well knowm since they have not been so prolific nor have they ex¬ hibited so often. That of Menard and Lebasque will be new to most visitors at the exhibition and to those who look at the reproductions of their prize-winning canvases here, although both are distinguished and familiar in Europe. It is be¬ cause Mr. Snell’s work is so very well known that place for reproductions has been given here to his less well-known American colleagues. Menard, two hundred eight JUNE 9 2 2 mreRHACionAL 4 THE BANKS OF THE SEINE, ANDELYS ” BY HENRI LEBASQUE Medal oj the Third Class Honorable Mention who was born in Paris in 1862, is a pupil of Baudry, Delaunay, Bouguereau and Tony Robert-FIeury and devotes himself both to the figure and to landscape, which he has combined in the lovely “Women Bathing in the Greve.’’ Something more than the sturdy qualities of his teachers is felt in this painting. It is touched with a modern note of strength and decorative grace that reminds one somehow of the most modern of the English painters, and it was possibly for this quality that Meier-Graefe once linked Menard’s name with Frank Brangwyn’s. Lebasque is classed by French art critics as among the later impressionists. Fie paints por¬ traits, figures and landscapes, and here, as in the case of Menard, he has linked two of his favorite fields ot work. The reputation he has won for painting in a high light key is beautifully pre¬ served in “The Banks of the Seine, Andelys,” this being as marked in the gracefully awkward pose of the pretty young woman as it is in the flowing Seine and the islands, trees and lulls in the background. Reiffel’s “Summer Design ” is one of the brilliant landscapes by which he has become known in the last fewr years. His title is a conscious appreciation of a scene so exquisite as almost to take on the air of artifice, yet the assembled rich loliage piled up in the masses and contrasted with the austere pat¬ tern of bare hillside and solid lines ol trees is one perfectly JUNE 1 9 2 2 two hundred nine inreRnAcionAL sraoa© “ OLD MILLS — WINTER ” BY FRED WAGNER Honorable Mention familiar in the typical landscape of the East. It is “mannered,” as all of Mr. Reiflel’s composi¬ tions have grown to be of late. But his is a style so rich in its rewards of charm that it only tends to increase the spec¬ tator’s admiration lor it. This is his manner’s reason for being. How gravely beautiful the utili¬ tarian ugliness of a group of factory buildings can be made, if the artist has the grace to see it, is shown in Mr. Wagner’s “Old Mills, Winter.” The winding curves of the ice¬ bound creek, the screen of leaf- stripped trees, the huddle of buildings in the back¬ ground, are drawn together into a pattern of extreme simplicity and beauty, by a brush directed by a poet’s inspiration. “women BATHING IN THE GREVe” BY EMILE RENE MENARD Medal oj the Second Class two hundred ten JUNE 1922 . . it m n 1 1 1 1 1 m n i n m m 1 1 1 m m ■ 1 1 ■ m m i ii 1 1 1 1 1 m 1 1 1 m . . . . ■ 1 1 1 1 1 1 m . . . . . n 1 1 1 1 1 • u 1 1 1 it 1 1 1 u 1 1 1 1 1 1 m 1 1 1 1 m 1 1 n m 1 1 • m 1 1 1 1 1 • 1 1 1 • m 1 1 1 1 m n 1 1 • n 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 n 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 n i m • it i m 1 1 1 1 n m 1 1 n 1 1 1 1 m 1 1 1 1 1 ■ i m i n 1 1 u 1 1 1 < m 1 1 1 m 1 1 1 1 1 n • 1 1 1 m 1 1 n m 1 1 1 m 1 1 n 1 1 u m 1 1 1 1 1 1 • * 1 1 1 1 1 1 • ■ 1 1 1 1 m 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 m 1 1 1 • ■ m 1 1 1 • i • 1 1 1 • 1 1 ii i m ■ 1 1 1 1 • 1 1 • it 1 1 • 1 1 1 n 1 1 n 1 1 1 1 1 1 ii 1 1 • 1 1 ■ it imreRHACionAL sram© “dream mirror” BY ARTHUR B. DAVIES DAVIES THE ABSOLUTE ?r//^7isJtheJpe,r11’ #£3 dropped in the glass of wine, dissolves, flows, and becomes a part of the fluid, so there have been in my life days and moments that all unrealized melted into my being and became somewhat of my individual make-up. I have no quarrel with the chemistry of life, but find it glorious. You, yourself, perhaps have stopped on the summit of a hill in winter and looked upon a valley far below, at the river filled with ice and the grey lands checked with light on snow-banked hills. Or, perhaps, at eventide when the sun has cast its halo on an autumn festival among the forests, you have stopped, compelled to worship at nature’s shrine. Transcend ing yourself, you have communed com Detached, alone, listening to the still smalt voice, he is absolute monarch of his art * ’ * by □ F. NEWLIN PRICE □ SEA AND PROMONTORY BY ARTHUR B. DAVIES pletely in absorption absolute. “The Absolute”: I use the phrase as expressive of the art of Arthur B. Davies because he paints detached, alone, listening to the still small voice, an abso¬ lute monarch of his art. His art: you may not read the romance that he saw when, standing to his easel, like a mariner to his wheel, he worked and worked, and knew not what to say, until some strange reaction of his soul surged up and he committed to the canvas the result — with absolute conviction, the world well lost, and regardless of the tide of popular assent. In the corner of “Against Darkness,” is a nude, beautifully done, reclining on a pyre of silver light, while nearby a man and woman gaze up at her in silent wonder. There are other motives just as fine, but in the june 1922 two thirteen mceRDACtonAL OTOE© corner of this canvas “movement in » ravine” BY ARTHUR B. DAVIES the nude is a fact, detached and beautifully absolute. I have cut apart the photograph of one composition. The fragments are complete in themselves; each is a „ „ “vision of delight most by Arthur b. davies fair. Time was when Albert P. Ryder, poet, painter, seer, was wont to call Weir and Davies “you young fel¬ lows.” He taught Davies one thing, that, far from artists and their companionship, away from busy centers, aside from ateliers and galleries, and the bohemian night life, the artist could and should speak for himself, uncriti¬ cized and unconfused. Ryder convinced him that an artist’s soul must walk alone. Davies is opposed to the smug complacency of some of our American landscapes. Apart from the academic perfection of the painting achieved, as rules have laid it down, he wishes to build delight. With him, a paint¬ ing must have humor, mood and sudden definite delinea¬ tion. To build a monument out of himself, the artist must dwell upon the hills of high Olympus, graced in the things he feels, completely aware of the old eternal beauties, and strong in his new vision. Life is glorious to the man who knows, observes, and feels its secret. Life — an adventure with facts, which work on one to transform and build. Life — an adventure in joy, with the influx of inspiration in the forms of con¬ tinual transformation. This it is to Davies. There was a time when Davies competed for a famous mural in a western courthouse. Someone two fourteen JUNE 922 mceRnACionAL else received the rich contract. The sketch of Davies went far into mythology, deep into history, and was lyric with the song of flowers. Though he failed, into the reservoir of his mind had gone fact after fact, dug out of centuries ago. For in this period he was painting landscapes — classic, epic — of the redwoods of California, the peaks of the Sierras, or the ploughed hills of our own New York State. Far reaches of rolling hill or winding river may appear in these land¬ scapes, but before you travel into the distance, some fact is truly presented, strong, imper¬ sonal, as it came to him, to be transmitted to us, who have not time to see. Long ago the artist painted panoramas, or more exactly cycloramas. You will recall them. In the process, Davies tells me, a young painter one day felt that his effort was dull, and rushing out he brought back earth and grass and rocks and exclaimed: “See, the values are quite perfect, but give me a pot of white paint, and we will have some high lights.” The effect was tremen¬ dous. So, why shall we challenge the way it is done? The result is what counts. Davies tells me there is great need of art criticism. So much of it is like Spencerian pen¬ manship, perfectly and beautifully regular. The horizon OF the terraces critics labor under the BY ARTHUR B. DAVIES . delusion that they are the public; they look for no feeling, but keep on refining their outlook until they have no ecstasy in their joints, no surprises in their blood. On the other hand, I recall WILD HE-GOAT DANCE meeting Davies on Filth by Arthur b. davies june 1922 tivo fifteen inceRnAcionAL banquet io a hero Avenue. He had just BY ARTHUR B. DAVIES been up to see Babe Ruth knock a home run, and told me: “He struck out three times. He’s no better than the rest of us — can’t hit it every time.” But suddenly from a dull state of mind we wake to a view of past endeavor in the light of future action. This is the “sanity of true genius.” I find the “Brahms Marine” of Davies all human and all music, with the pounding ol the waves on the rock-ribbed cave. In one canvas a little (oh, so little) child is seated on a rock, gazing out into an immense white sky, over the widest of oceans. It might be called “Eternity and Youth.” In another are trees tossed by the storm in weird fantastic shapes, while far below a man mob, quite small in scale, fights on its useless conflict with each other. And then the artist passes to a scene of sportive goats, that rollick underneath a sky of light and shade, that might be mountain tops, or lightning in black air, or, as you will, a hundred different things. Next — there are some placid pigs that might have sported round the shrine of ancient Circe, quite satisfied with their lowly status in life beneath high tree shade. Some call Davies a decorator. One friend of mine will claim that in his designs will be found the key to murals for a century to come. Others know of him best as JEWEL-BEARING TREE OF a sculptor ol figures, amity” by ARTHUR b. davies two sixteen june 1922 lrareRnAcionAL that somehow give just one solid effect of line, important lines developed, and the detail left to you. Some think of Davies as an alchemist, work¬ ing in enamels and glass in color, and how he mixes and fires them for himself around the little kiln he owns. Of course you know his etchings, and those lithographs that surprise with pleasure and take you journeying back to the haunts of youth and the glad half-forgotten moments of great uncon¬ scious happiness. But all of this is another episode. We speak here of Davies the painter. Years ago, the late William Macbeth spoke to Benjamin Altman about a young painter who should study abroad. When Mr. Davies came THE FIGHT OF A DREAM BY ARTHUR B. DAVIES back from a revel in the at the angle BY ARTHUR B. DAVIES priceless art of India and Italy and France, and handed Air. Altman the amount of his loan, the latter seemed aggrieved. From then on until the death of that great art patron, Davies worked and studied to paint something that might rest in the Altman Collec¬ tion. He failed, but in that period he produced paintings that appeal. “The Little Girl with a Violin,” “The Mother,” “Sleep” — such canvases are much sought after now, they sing such a sweet understanding song. People love them; they were of the heart. Where today he puzzles and interests and intrigues you, then he made you love his paintings. The late Theodore Roosevelt, walking u n e 1922 tivo seventeen mceRrsAtionAL §OT®1© MULTIPLE YOUTH BY ARTHUR B. DAVIES and she should look for her back room rent where she might find it; it could through the famous Armory Show with Davies, stopped at the “Nude Descend¬ ing the Stairs,” the feature picture of the exhibit, and then passed to one of Davies, and said: “This is the foundation.” These two had much in common, strenuous, hustling, dynamic, abso¬ lute, both of them. Davies is a keen sportsman, be it in boxing with his sons, or playing baseball, or iust talking to you, talking with energy and absorbed interest in his theme. Then Davies is a farmer, and once years ago, when he could sell no pictures, the farm supported him. This after his effort at illustrating. It is told of an editor that he looked at Davies’ drawings of the circus and said: “Why, you’re not an illustrator, you are an artist.” And of Davies himself that once, when his landlady annoyed him about a certain little matter, he didn’t mince words: he was an artist, not conceivably be any concern of his. Davies is a laborer in a literal sense. He has no one around. His workshop is piled with things started and completed. He lives in his work. His workshop gives one the impression of tre¬ mendous energy, filled with marble from the Taj Mahal, drawings from France, paintings from Italy. When you talk with him, you discover that his mind is very much like his studio, stored with no end of lore and ideas. He is very fond of the fable of the Unicorn, a wild and beautiful beast, with one curling pointed horn centered in his forehead. So spirited and sensitive was this wild thing, that no one but a virgin could approach him; others he destroyed. So in the realm of art; we color things we see with the purity of our two eighteen june 1922 inceRnAcionAL approach, and drink of the nectar of art or the dregs of cynicism. Pity any one who is not played upon by paintings. To be sure they play differently on all. A certain strata of picture lovers finds harmony in blue; another set in red and crimson things, or golden brown, or English portraits, or the Hudson River school, or giddy headed Greenwich Village. Time was when art was made to reveal unde¬ tected beauty, as music is to be listened to for the shading of its tone and charm of volume. Today we love conversational art, the art orator, and we thank him for the stir he makes in a perhaps too placid and complacent pool. Come with Davies! Drink the drams of dreams! One day he wandered northward from Venice, mounting the Alps to the neighborhood of Cadore, and there he saw two Italians arguing with heated words. He stood by and listened, and then came the master Giorgione, who, listening, took from Davies his box of pastelles, and kneeling down drew on a stone the very answer to tire problem. As he finished, up came Titian, and Giorgione asked him if the answer was not correct, and Titian acquiesced. In the morning Davies awoke fresh from the solution of a problem he had long sought, and finished his picture. Often Davies tells me he stands in a gorgeous room, around which are hung great paintings by Inness — sunsets and landscapes with beautiful elms. To dream and make your dreams come true, to live in the lyric realm of Swinburne, Browning, Shakespeare, and then to paint with back of you great masters like Titian, Raphael, Whistler — yes, at your back, leaning close to your ear- that is art. SKETCH FOR “THE DAWNING BY ARTHUR B. DAVIES JUNE 1922 tivo nineteen inceRnACtonAL THE MERRY-GO-ROUND' inj L ~A/La n4_ ^/e rile r Belonging to the artist’s Futurist “period” — painted in igi6 when he was twenty-four years old two twenty JUNE 9 2 2 mreRnAcionAL “still life” painted by mark gertler without instruction at age of sixteen GERTLERS SURPRISING CAREER ark Gertler, though he has but recently ar¬ rived at the not very mature age of thirty, is one of those ex¬ ceptional artists who win, as it were, a relay of reputations. I lay stress upon this fact, not because it is in itself remarkable that in a career so short in terms of actual time a young man should have achieved eminence in a number ol directions, but because it stands for a sort of in¬ stinctive, logical progress from stage to stage, proceeding in a curiously inevitable fashion as each stage reached attains its limit of perfection. One talks of early, transition and late “periods” in the case of this young man of thirty just as one speaks of them in relation to the Old Masters, and although there is little doubt that Gertler has now, after struggles, both of a material and a psychical nature, attained the state at which he will work out his own salvation, yet that state too will no doubt have its developments and its subsequent modifications. Mark Gertler’s career has been a romance. It is because it so finely illus¬ trates that inward urge that comes to a few, they know not whence, they know not why, yet leading them, defiant of all barriers, straight to the ar¬ tistic goal, that I venture to tread on ground which other¬ wise would not be the concern of the general public. Born in surroundings wherein art was not so much a dead letter as a totally unknown one, the child from his earliest days found Ins greatest, it not his only, joy in the drawing of objects around him. Having seen no works of art, save the posters of the hoardings (if indeed such perpetrations can be so classed), never having visited a public museum nor indeed being cognizant ot the existence of a profession such as that of an artist or sculptor, this boy was yet so enamored of the sport of copying in terms of pencil and paint the objects which he observed around him that nothing else appeared to him of moment. He would run off to gaze upon the shimmer of the fish lying on the slab of the fish¬ monger nearby and then run back home to im¬ plore his mother to come out and buy a fish for At thirty British artist has passed through Futurism and Post- Imp ress ion ism to indi¬ vidualism • • • by MRS GORDOIGSTABLES c=i (_ . m JUNE 1922 two twenty -one inceRHAcionAL smmo ATHER AND MOTHER OF THE ARTIST BY MARK GERTLER - PAINTED IN 1912 AT AGE OF TWENTY him to copy. And the copy would be made with the common tubes of paint such as house decora¬ tors employ. Such copies (they are sometimes of fruit and vegetables too) when by chance they come into the market, fetch prices which to that boy would have seemed beyond all dreams of avarice. He has been offered £100 for a study of apples on a plate which he carried out at the age of fourteen without ever having had a lesson, without ever having seen a picture. It has the charm of an old Dutch fruit study, something of the exquisiteness of a fine Fantin Latour. It was done at an age when Gertler simply copied what he saw without question, without modification. It was painted just a couple of years before the group which we illustrate herewith of a flask of wine, a lemon, a banana and other fruit. Was ever work like this done before without tuition? When Gertler’s rather sketchy education came to an end, the prospect of following any but his obvious bent was fraught with the direst misery and so after many difficulties to be overcome he found himself a pupil at a London Polytechnic art class, where his instructor soon had the sense to perceive that the pupil had more to impart than to absorb. Thence his transition to the Slade School was swift. There too he carried all before him, prizes fall¬ ing to his work without effort on the part of the winner. He paints because he must — and can. By this time wealthy patrons were forthcoming to help the boy who was making such sensational progress. All was en train to send him to the Continent to study the achievements of the past at the great art centres of the world. One would have ex¬ pected such a prospect to inspire Gertler with mad enthusiasm. Instead it filled him with un¬ speakable gloom. He loathed the idea of being swamped by other men’s traditions. He had his own problems and needed to solve them for himself in his own way. Nothing could give a better in¬ sight into Gertler’s artistic out¬ look than the manner in which he threw material policy to the winds. He is an individualist in a sense which applies to few. He is an individualist, not because he is satisfied with his own accom¬ plishments, but because he knows that whatever may be his accomplishment, it must depend on what he finds out for himself in his own way. To this period belongs the portrait of his father and mother, here reproduced. Realism is still his foremost aim. Soundly and solidly he paints, giving as truly and truthfully as lies with¬ in his power the object visualized. Untroubled by abstractions or theories or cults, he copies, though he never imitates. This picture won him admission to the New English Art Club. It won him also a reputation as a portrait-painter and would have set him on the road to be a successful and fashionable portrait artist had he cared to tread it. But in this he would have found no satisfaction. For him he knew there were fresh worlds to conquer. So once again brilliant pros¬ pects were abandoned. For greatly was he dis¬ turbed by the first Post-Impressionist Exhibition, organized about this time by the art-critic, Mr. Roger Fry, at the Grafton Galleries. It was under its perturbing, stimulating influence that he painted, in 1914, the “Seated Woman,” which illustrates the manner in which he at that period was working out the problem of bulks seen in relation to one another. The distortion ol the two twenty-two june 1922 inceRnAcionAL hands (which by the way are very finely treated, apart from the fact of size) was deliberately introduced in order that the desired impression might be em¬ phasized. Since that picture was painted (he was twenty- two at the time) Gertler has dis¬ covered better and more har¬ monious means of attaining his end. This wrork, together with two others by his brush, are in the Tate Gallery. Next came the period when Gertler turned his attention to abstract forms in art, expressing his ideas in a practically geome¬ trical method. In 1916 we find him producing such work as “The Merry-go-Round ’’here illus¬ trated, in which, as it were, he out-futurists the Futurists. The British public, which as a rule prefers an artist to go on pro¬ ducing the same thing, was ready once again to hail him as a past- master at a new type of craft. But having tested this abstract method, he found it wanting. It is too strong a convention for his taste, too rigid, for once explored it permits of one single solution alone. There can be no variety with a formula such as this. So once again he is off on his voyage of artistic discovery. It is now that he makes his visit to Paris and is caught up in the modern French movement, the movement of Cezanne and Matisse. Again a time of turbulence and disturbance for the artist. A time however which, though rich in new ideas, is yet not destined to exercise a decisive influence. But while under its spell he makes yet another reputation with such work as “ Portrait of a Lady,” a painting which has since been purchased by the Contemporary Art Society, and which in conjunction with others constructed on the same principle, shows his mastery of that which under¬ lies art of this nature. And here a word must be said as to Gertler’s attitude towards portraiture. With perfect fiank- ness and truthfulness (and it would be a matter of sheer impossibility to associate anything but an extraordinary truthfulness with all that this artist attempts) he confesses that in portraiture he has no concern with psychology, no connection with the soul side of his sitter. Such matters he considers to pertain to literature, not to painting. He SEATED WOMAN PAINTED IN mark gertler’s post-impressionist merely treats a face as if MANNER (1OI4) • ' t • p ■„ ,T it were a bit 01 still life. He is interested with its surface, its texture, its lines, its relation to other objects, in exactly the same manner as if it were an orange or a china cup. Similarly with the nude. A nude has for him no purely human interest. It interests him because the human form happens to have a com¬ plexity of contours and masses which no other object possesses, and it is with the reproduction of these that he is concerned. Again Gertler was to decide that the Post- Impressionist attitude was not that of which he was in search. This too he abandoned, to go straight back to Nature, to copy her with as great a realism as he could muster, yet with a realism very far removed from that of his earliest period. For now two things were to obsess him, firstly the composition of things seen, and secondly the simplification, that is to say the elimination of certain portions ol the composition, as regards each of the three dimensions. I Ie no longer copies Nature, he brings his personal vision to bear upon her, deviating from her wherever he finds it neces¬ sary for his composition, underrating, overrating contours and bulk to enable them to fit in and modifying his masses both in thickness as well as JUNE 922 two twenty-three mceRnAcionAL SCUM© “self-portrait” (1920) IN THE artist’s LATEST STYLE in length and breadth. Always appreciative of objects, he finds in them an infinitude of varied interest, according as he views them in varied rela¬ tions to one another. The realization of forms in space is what seems to him of paramount impor¬ tance, and he cares little whether it is a house, a tree, a china figure or a live one that he is depict¬ ing. He has done with the temptation to make his forms abstract, he cares now far more about balance and relation. Nor has he further interest with the sophisticated, though very exquisite studies, rather in the manner of Augustus John, which formerly satisfied him. It is the light on objects, the look of those objects under different conditions to which he devotes himself. The “Self-Portrait,” done in 1920, is an ex¬ ample of Gertler’s late manner. He works slowly but with a remarkable surety. All is conscien¬ tiously, logically and solidly built up, the painting is fine though sometimes a little labored. In talk¬ ing of painting one may easily degenerate into sentimentality, but at the risk of such an aspersion I may remark that one could not imagine Gertler ever succumbing to the temptation to potboil or to work to order. To his last period belongs a nude, which brings out in a curiously able fashion the relaxed char¬ acter of the prone form, an achievement brought “ THE SAILOR AND HIS LASS ” FROM A CHINA FIGURE PAINTED IN 1921 about by the vigorously realistic treatment of sur¬ face, texture and lighting. It is because of the peculiar intensity with which Gertler sees things, that he is able to make the spectator see them also so intensely. One looks on an object painted by Gertler and dis¬ covers new qualities in it, fresh nuances of color, unsuspected beauties of texture. This is true of “The Sailor and His Lass,” here illustrated, which he painted from one of those rough china orna¬ ments which Gertler loves to collect. Having secured by his method of composition and elim¬ ination, a preliminary pattern of much rhythmical beauty, he proceeds to invest it with a significance quite beyond the common. It has the feeh of china, just as a teacosy painted by him has the feel of wool embroidery and a newspaper of paper, and his nudes the feel of flesh. That Gertler is one of the most significant of the modern English painters is generally acknowl¬ edged. Steadily improving as regards color, always intellectual in his outlook, and never sacri¬ ficing brushwork for effect, he stands in latter day art for a valuable principle. Economical of means, and producing a beautiful surface quality by the use of remarkably few colors, he obtains fine harmonies and delicate atmospheric effects very simply and directly. two twenty-jour june 1922 mceRnAnonAL SOTM© POTTERY that reveals a PEOPLE he civilization of the Sassanide Persians, begin¬ ning 226 A. D. and ending in 651 on the death of Vezdegard III, must be regarded as hav¬ ing held an exceptional place in the world during four cen¬ turies. Inheritor of the arts and the feelings of the older peoples of the Orient — Chaldea, Egypt, Assyria, Media, Persia — Iran under the domination of the successors oi Arduchir, son of Papek, stands out as the touch¬ stone of culture, the one nation which best devel¬ oped this magnificent inheritance and, throwing down the gauntlet to the world, struck the blow from which it took the Greco-Roman art thirteen centuries to recover. For the Sassanide civiliza¬ tion not only dominated Asia Minor and India, but (first by way of Byzantium then through Islam) it spread through the Occident the force of oriental genius, always fresh in spite of cycles of time, causing a ray of this light to permeate the arts of our Middle Ages. Finally, more important than all else, it is Sassanide civilization, by the development of relations with China, which linked the Extreme East with the basin of the Mediterran¬ ean. I have hardly been able to en¬ large in my work, “La Cera- m i q u e Archaique de f Islam et ses engines” (Paris: Le- roux, 1920), a work that dealt with less general ques¬ tions — on the protecting role which the Sas- sanides played in the world, but this fact would be worth a detailed study. While most of the arts honored in Persia from the 1 1 1 to the VI I century of our era- architecture, sculpture, weav¬ ing, silvercraft, jewelry, glyp¬ tics, etc., are fairly well known today, on the other hand, there is one branch, that of the ceramic art, that is hardly known at all, and I have tried to describe certain periods, but we shall never reach a complete knowledge of the question without having made deep archaeological researches solely devoted to this end; therefore, let us congratulate ourselves to find that museums are becoming interested in this pottery, which is so little known. In this regard the placing in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, ot New York, of the fine collection which Mr. Demotte has so generously presented, constitutes an event of signal importance. Without doubt the museum will not fail to add to this first important gift further accessions in the future. This series is in point of fact so original and unusual that it needs a word of explanation. The specimens composing it do not belong to the ser¬ vice used by the satraps and high dignitaries of the empire, but they are of popular character and give us a glimpse of one of the most curious and life-like types of all the Sassanide pottery. From the tech¬ nical standpoint, it is made of red earth, of which the design, often broad in outline, is in relief; a brownish red varnish generously covers the piece, but we also possess specimens enam¬ elled in cobalt blue. The shapes are greatly varied; they are a complex of those originating in the . . A SASSAN I AN POTTERY VASE, antique Orient, and with bas relief decoration in Greece and depicting preparations for SACRIFICIAL OFFERING IN Rome, but a lew, the mysteries of mazdaism Sassanian collection given to the Metropolitan Mas eum depicts the Persia that succeeded Darius .... In/ MAURICE PEZARD Attache au Musee du Louvre A SASSANI AN POTTERY VASE IN RED EARTH, THE BAS RELIEF DECORATION REPRESENTING A MONARCH ON HORSEBACK RIDING AT HEAD OF HIS ARMY JUNE 1922 two twenty-five inceRnAcionAL SOTM© SASSANI AN VASE WITH DOUBLE HANDLES such as the ewers for example, are a special creation of the Sassanides, which is found again in the Moslem arts. However, the chief interest in these pieces is centered in the decoration traced with varied and vital figures, allowing itself all license. In spite of the popular character of the pottery, the artist treats the most ambitious sub¬ jects as well as those of ordinary life. On the vases we find scenes taken from the feasts of sovereigns or from the mysteries of Mazdaism; here a king holds court on a high throne, receiving the homage of his vassals; there, he strikes his vanquished enemy, who kneels, holding out supplicating hands, or lies prostrate before him; or again he appears in might at the head of his army. Rustem rides on horseback— Rustem, the great legendary hero of Persia, whose deeds are sung in Firdusi’s famous epic poem, the “Shahnama.” In these little bas- reliefs we find an echo of the real sculpture, not only of that which the Shahpur and the Varahran have cut in the rocks of Naksh-i-Ranstem and of Naksh-i-Radjab, but also in bas-reliefs cut by the Chaldeans and Assyrians and the Achaemenidae many centuries earlier for the palaces ol Babylon, ot Nineveh, Susa and Persepolis. This surprising fact brings to us, as nothing else can do, the survival of the Oriental past at the period of the VASE DEPICTING RUSTEM SASSANI AN VASE WITH KING PARDONING PRISONERS two twenty-six JUNE 922 mceRnACionAL Sassanide power and, far from indicat¬ ing any decadence, shows clearly a renaissance. The royal personage is sometimes treated more in the style of the time of Darius than that of Shah- pur, and the true costume of a Sas¬ sanide prince really appears but once — on a vase, with a long, narrow neck, which is perhaps the most curious of the entire collection. There are many motives taken from the Mazdian cult. We find on certain specimens the serpent of Zoroaster’s mythology; on others, the “pyrees” (or sacrificial altars to Fire) and the attendant priests, and the adoration of the mystic tree. And, as though their fantasy were still unsatisfied, the artists have made a profusion of details from the daily life of the people — the most typical being cara¬ vans, with camels and camel drivers, stick in hand. In our opinion, the origin of the potteries we have so rapidly described ought to be sought for SASSANIAN VASE DEPICTING A CAMEL CARAVAN in the yet little known Iranian civilization ot the Princes of Perside, that valiant dynasty preceding Artaxerxes that resisted the terrific onslaughts of both the Greek and the Parthian conquests. VASE DEPICTING A MONARCH SASSANIAN VASE WITH SCENES FROM MAZDAISTIC MYSTERIES JUNE 1 Q 2 2 two twenty-seven mceRnAcionAL _/L JYlasterp lece of CHINESE SCULPTURE Among the many rare works in the current exhibition of ancient Chinese art in the Museum of the University of Pennsylvania, which is to continue through June, the great figure of Bodhisattva here reproduced stands out for its unusual pose and its serene dignity. It affords an unusual opportunity of studying the methods of the ninth century sculptors in applying paint and gilt to their works. The figure is about one-and-a-half tunes life size. It is carved in wood and teas coated with successive layers of different colors originally, both on the exposed portions of the body and the draperies, the last one being of gold. Its pose alone makes this sculpture distinguished, the graceful bands, the upraised leg with the left arm resting on it giving an air of friendly, intimate ease that is reflected in the gravely smiling face and the kindly expression of the eyes. two twenty-eight june 1922 CUPID AND PSYCHE COED GLASS BOWL ’ Circa II Century 73, C mceRnAcioriAL Gold glass bottom of a cup ivitb design of Peter and Paul. Between them on a column rests the Constantinean Seal containing the two Greek letters X and R inside of a sun disk, reminiscent of the Vision of Constantine at the Milvian Bridge, before the battle which defeated the Emperor Maxentius Gold glass bottom with the figure of the patron saint of the defunct. The inscription translated, means: “With thee I hope to drink and live.” It is entirely erroneous to interpret these and similar ivords as a toast. On the contrary they express a recognition of the expected eternal life that is to come c~fke ART of GOLD GLASS e must always bear in mind that the inven¬ tion of glass and the first blowing were not eontem- of glass poraneous, but actually separ ated by thirteen hundred years. For while the first objects made of real glass are datable back to the XVIII Egyptian Dynasty, the discovery that glass can be blown from a bubble was made in the first century B. C., during the later Ptolemies. Glass blowing from a unit of liquid glass and from a bubble constitutes the very last stage of this art, which required more than thirteen hundred years to emerge from its primitive stage and original technique. During these long years the artists as well as their public contented themselves with a few forms of glass manufacture, which, though naturally primitive and crude, have never been excelled in artistic merit. Volumes might now be composed upon each one of these types of glass making and glass objects, but as we must confine ourselves to but one in this essay, we must limit our references to the others to a condensed summary with only sufficient detail to enable the reader to follow intelligently the development of glass making in Matchless beauty of old technique , originating in Egy pt, oanis hed in Byzantine crudity * by GUSTAVUS A.EISEN its major steps from original crudeness to a highly devel¬ oped technique. The earliest glass technique as regards vessels has else¬ where been referred to by the present writer as “core-spun” glass. It consisted of winding threads of fused glass around a core of sand and gum. After the threads had been fused and cooled the sand was removed by simply soaking the object in water. Of these core-spun objects our museums contain many specimens, mostly shaped like minute amphorae, of delicate forms and colors. Another type, equally ancient, is the “pad- glass” which resulted from pressing a thick pad of fused glass into a mould generally in the form of a low plate or shallow bowl. These two methods of glass making continued in use, exclusive of others, until the time ot the Ptolemies, in the fourth century B. C. These art-loving rulers encouraged progress, subsidized learned men and artisans and originated a typically Ptolemaic art ot their own. Among new things of this period was the contrivance of enlarging a tube of glass by blowing, an improvement which two centuries later resulted in the discovery of glass blowing as it is now known to us. The tube-blown glass .1 u n e 1922 two thirty-one inceRnAcionAL vessels are among the most artistic known, the highest priced ob¬ jects of antiquity con¬ sidering their size, and so far never imitated in later art. But as the subject of this paper is the type of glass known as gold glass, we will now turn to this, also invented in the time of the Ptolemies, probably in their capital Alexandria, in the Delta of the Nile. Gold glass is a padded, or pad-glass, and was made by enclosing a layer of gold film between two sheets of transparent glass. At least one of these layers was pure and colorless in order to permit the gold to appear. The back layer was sometimes blue or green and acted as a background for the picture. This kind of glass retained its favor from the second or third century B. C. to the fourth century A. D., or, perhaps more properly, the art was revived in this later period, in the time of Constantine. This art in the time of the Ptolemies seems to have been begun by the making of beads of gold glass. This feature of the process was never lost; we find gold glass beads in tombs of every century between the third B. C. to the end of the twelfth A. D. The earliest are magnificently made, refined and lovely in appearance; the latter are crude and coarse, the gold often being replaced by silver or even by yellow earth or paint. The most important objects of gold glass are, however, the cups, bowls or plates, in which the gold film is confined to the base or bottom, and scratched with a needle into designs. Another type contains the gold film spread over a relief, or figures in relief, which thus stand out in vivid splendor. 01 the fourth century gold glass cups about 300 are known to exist in museums and private collections. But of the type of gold glass relief, only one single entire specimen — the one illustrated in color at the beginning of this article — is known. But before we enter into a detailed study oi this and other gold glass designs, it will be of interest as well as instructive to consider generally the important qualities and characteristics of this type of glass. The most important quality of gold glass lies in its incomparable quality of line, which is superior to that of almost every other art ancient or modern. By line quality is comprehended that char¬ acter of any line which makes it suitable to the object it defines. It is the quality which causes an object or a design to appear robust or delicate, well defined or suggestive, prominent or bold, modest or retreating. No objects or designs can be really great unless they possess quality of line, but many objects and designs which are otherwise poor and unattractive are saved from oblivion, and will even find their special devotees, if their line quality is characteristic, refined or peculiarly suitable to the object or design which they define. Line quality was known and practiced by the artists of Egypt and ancient Greece, many of whom were justly famous because of this feature of their art. Line quality, says Pliny, the hrst century critic and writer, not only defines properly the object, but it suggests what lies behind the design. Some ob- iects appear harsh and unattractive because their line quality is too strong or too regular. Others again, like so many modern works, impress us with an over-soltness because their line quality is that of “the dissolving line.” Harsh line quality is generally softened by age, thus explaining why old objects are often considered more artistic than those newly made. Then, too, the line quality of objects made by hand is always more artistic than the line quality of those made by machinery or with instruments of precision. Hence, we have both artistic line quality and mechanical line quality, each proper in its own sphere of usefulness. Then, too, we have line quality of surface as well as line quality of outlines, or lines bordering areas. The line quality of the surface makes this glass design , fourth century A. D., Christ be¬ tween Peter and Paul, with Sun and Moon symbols. The fragment is partly em¬ bedded in the cement closing the tomb. The piece was ap¬ parently ground off along the edges after the top had been broken away. All of these figures are beardless two th irty-two JUNE 922 mceRnAcionAL surface pleasing. For instance, the glaring surface of gold, silver and brass wares is harsh to the educated eye, hence many like to see a slight gray patina on silver, a green one on bronze, while gold is dimmed in various ways in order not to appear too imposing and, according to some, even vulgar. In former ages when the wearers of jewelry were more barbaric than at a later date, as for instance in the bronze age, the wearers often contented them¬ selves with plain gold ornaments, holding color and durability as of prime value. Later, when the wearer became more refined in taste, the gold surface was engraved, and its harshness broken up by designs, by chilling, and in other ways. Fully realizing this deficiency of line quality in the metals, especially in silver and gold, the refined taste of the artists, in the times of the Ptolemies, invented the matrix which we are now discussing under the name of gold glass. By enclosing a thin layer or film of gold between two sheets of transparent glass, not only did the makers moderate the intense color of the gold surface, and its dis¬ agreeable reflection, but they also softened its outlines, which became refracted through the glass. Then, too, in objects with designs on the gold, these designs and lines were softened and made pleasing in a way that could not be produced by other means. In order to realize this effect, we need only to place a bead made of pure gold side by side with a gold glass bead and compare the two. The gold bead is valued because it is yellow and because it is gold, but it is not pleasing as compared to the gold glass bead although, no doubt, the former’s intrinsic value is a thousand times greater. In the gold glass bead the color is soft, glowing and tender, like the soft golden hue of early morn; its edges do not reflect the harsh¬ ness of bright gold, the overlaying white glass giving them transparency and softness. In the Metropolitan Museum of New York there are several necklaces of this type exhibited in the Egyptian rooms. When their admirable quality is once recognized the educated taste will prefer them to those of pure metal, old or new. In looking at these beads, which are of many sizes and forms, some with moulded figures of deities in relief, the viewer does not perceive a single harsh line. Even the edges are softened because the gold leaf is entirely confined to the interior of the object, never even reaching the end, which con¬ sists entirely of white or uncolored transparent A bottom of a gold glass cup or bowl. The edge, a fter having been carefully broken off from the sides oj the bowl, was afterward ground. In the center a bust, proba¬ bly of Christ, and around it the word “zeses” (live). The figures in the outer ring — which together form a biblical cycle — are taken from the miracles of Christ glass. The charm of this combination of glass and gold is so great that its realiza¬ tion should be readily acquired, even by those of us who have been accustomed to consider that pure gold alone is jewelry’s most superior matrix. Next comes gold glass in stratified structure. This type of glass or combination of glasses wras invented in the time of the Ptolemies, apparently in the third century B. C., no specimens being datable earlier than that. It quickly rose to supreme favor, and there is some reason to believe that the two famous “winged vases” for which Nero paid a huge fortune were made of this kind of glass, the technique of which had been lost by his degenerate time. One could devote a book to this type of glass alone, but a few words must suffice to convey to the reader some conception of its refined appearance — an achievement never before equalled or since surpassed. The invention ol this combination seems to have been a result of the discovery that a tube of glass softened by heat could be enlarged to form a small flask. The method was as follows: The artist first prepared alternating sheets of white, colored and gold glass, which, placed on the top of each other, were fused without mixing their layered appearance. A slice of the whole was then cut along the edge, as a slice ol layer cake, to use a JUNE 9 2 2 two thirty-three mceRDACionAL SOTS>E© Two saints in gold glass simile easily to be design in the base of a cup. r j j tl , r.u comprehended. Ui I be nature oj the person- ^ ages is indicated bv the this slice a tube of outer ring of stars, by the gIass was formed by ring representing the sun , and its rays, and the two SlmPIv. roIllng !t UP rosettes, which both stand upon itself and then for a star— -always emblems {using the margins. of saints, heroes or deities, ™ , as well as symbolic of life tube was next enlarged by blowing, as in ordinary glass blowing, with this difference, however, that here a tube was enlarged instead of a molten bubble of glass matrix. As the tube or flask always remains thick, it was later ground down to the necessary thinness, even at the risk of losing the specimen by breakage. Both our Metropolitan Museum and our private collections possess examples of this in¬ comparable type of glass. A characteristic is that the gold him is full of minute cracks, the result ol unequal expansion of film and glass. Modern and Renaissance imitators of this gold glass thought that these fissures reflected upon their skill and set to work to “improve” the method. They soon succeeded in overcoming the difficulty and pro¬ duced gold glass without the fissures, but the result, instead of enhancing the beauty of the glass, caused a disagreeable glossiness, which now per¬ mits us to distinguish between the genuinely antique and the modern specimens. It is interest¬ ing to note that the cracks in the glaze of old pottery, sometimes produced artificially, always contribute to its beauty, as well as to its commer¬ cial value. And Pliny tells us that among the Roman connoisseurs and collectors, the worn Greek silver reliefs were held all the more valuable because of being worn, even when this bordered upon the actual blot¬ ting out of the sculptured design. Also, we all know that great antique rug master¬ pieces are enhanced in beauty and are made more valuable when worn (and thus softened) by age, their line quality being a stamp of beauty not found in the new. Then comes gold glass in relief. In order to fully understand this type it is necessary to remember that the gold leaf in gold glass is never found on the outside surface of the glass but is always seen in the interior — both surfaces of the objects being plain glass, the gold film being enclosed between them. Thus far the process is exactly the same as with the gold glass beads. As there is but one entire piece of gold glass relief known since antiquity, we must naturally confine our descriptions to it, and merely conjecture what the others may have been. Later on we shall suggest a reason why other specimens have failed of preservation to our time. This unique specimen of gold glass relief consists of a flat glass bowl with a bold design of two figures in the center, the relief being entirely in the interior of the glass, both top and base being absolutely flat. When seen in clear light the figures stand out somewhat greenish blue and nearly opaque, on a ground of most beautiful translucent deep blue of an almost inimitable tint. If we examine the plate carefully we see that the base is made of blue glass, which undoubtedly also once extended to the very edges of the plate. But the glass immediately above the figures is pure transparent uncolorecl glass. When held up to the light, they appear to be in slight relief, but if we view this plate in reflected or overhead light we see that the golden figures are in strong relief on a background of deep blue glass, the object being superbly effective. The design is very fine, of the very best Greek style, although it must date from the second cen¬ tury B. C. The figures are Cupid and Psyche with an altar between them, the scene probably repre¬ senting their nuptials as conceived by the Hellen¬ istic artist. Cupid stands to the left, his two large wings folded behind. His legs are crossed between the knees and the ankles. His left arm stretches behind the shoulder of Psyche, whose right arm is similarly posed on the right shoulder of the god. Psyche is clothed in a flowing garment carried backwards by the breeze in graceful folds. On her left arm is a wreath. The altar is slightly two th irty-four JUNE 1922 inceRtiAcionAL SOTM© pyramidal with an elegant tripod on its top, the whole structure not reaching to their waists. Both the figures and the composition are characterized by an unusual grace, by a true Greek touch and design, and by a distinctly discernible “uplift of inhalation” in both the figures of the male and the female. While it is impossible for this work to be later than the first century B. C. nor earlier than the time of the first Ptole¬ mies, or the third century B. C., it seems quite evident that the design was not original but copied from some well-known masterpiece of Greek art at its height. The figure of the god reminds us of both Phidias and Praxiteles. The pose and out¬ lines of Psyche resemble in tact the Iris of the Parthenon in the pose, in movement and in the robe. It also resembles the female figure immediately behind the chariot horses on the western pediment. However, even in the later period (430 to 490 B. C.) statues were made which might have served as models to our reliet: an instance being the superb Nereid of Xantos, this composi¬ tion having somewhat greater, or (to express it better) more emphasized, movement. The glass containing the relief must have been first cast in a mould with concave designed figures. When cold, the figures on the glass were gilt with gold-leaf, which was made to adhere by heating or by the means of gum. Over this was poured a pad of fused transparent uncolored glass for pro¬ tection. When cool the bowl was ground down to proper thinness and size. The scarcity of these objects may be due to the fact that they were made at a time when the bodies of the dead were cremated. Sometimes valuable objects belonging to the deceased were not buried but were replaced by inferior works, often made for this express purpose, the finer works of art being kept by the relatives of the dead. But it is due to this habit of burning that personal objects of the great minor arts of the time of the Ptolemies, Pompey the Great and Augustus are much scarcer than those of a later date when inhumation came in use. The later gold glass constitutes a distinct class by itself. No specimens have been found which can be considered earlier than the latter half of the third century A. D., and none that is much later than the fourth century A. D. The later limit is determined by the fact that white glass became exceedingly rare even at the end of the fourth century, and that the art was practically lost Bottom of a gold glass cup or plate, with two saints. Below is the Flagellation column, which was used symbolically in the same manner as we now use the Holy Cross. In fact, the column is marked by the Christogram, showing un¬ mistakably that it represents the column to which Jesus was tied when scourged in the fifth cen¬ tury A. D., at least in the places where this type was made. These gold glass objects are also known as Christian cups, al¬ though some are de¬ cidedly pagan. They are characterized by the design on the gold film, which is always made with a needle, producing open lines where but pure glass is seen. The Christian designs contain principally figures ol Christ and the Apostles in outline, made by scratching the film. The designs are of course exceedingly interesting and highly important to students of early Christian art, but they are not characterized by great beauty. About three hundred specimens (mostly in fragments) are known. All are executed in the harsh, unsym¬ pathetic style and with the same absence of feeling that characterize all Byzantine and Constan- tinopohtan sculpture and painting ol that early period. Stiffness of pose, seriousness of mien, lack ol motion, as it all action were sinful and con- demnable, are the salient traits of this art. Christ is often represented, sometimes as a youth and nearly always beardless, standing be¬ tween two apostles, generally designated with their names scratched in golden letters over their heads. On these cups wc see the Good Shepherd with the lamb on his shoulder or before Him. june 1922 two thirty-five mceRnACionAL SOTDE© There, too, are Peter and Paul, Sixtus, Timotheus, Laurentius, Cyprianus, Genesius, Lucas, Maria, Peregrina and a host of others. Some of these saints are without a halo, but by the end of the fourth century the halo was generally introduced. Unfortunately none of these figures can be con¬ sidered as actual portraits, a disappointment shared by all Christians who have hoped finally to discover the exact appearance of those who wrote or who are mentioned in the Bible, or in the legends contemporary with Biblical events. Not all of these gold glass cups are Christian, however. We possess cups with representations of the Jewish ark, the Jewish seven-armed candle¬ stick, and even the Temple of Solomon erected by Herod. The latter is in Greek style, but with the candlestick standing in the tympanum; on one side are two columns, Jachin and Boaz, on the other the celebrated palm in the valley below the temple. This wonderful and important relic is now in the Vatican Museum of Christian Art (repro¬ duced in color in Forbes’ “Jerusalem”). Then, too, many of the gold glass objects represent pagan themes of conviviality, as a funeral banquet in which grief was tempered by the free use of wine. A most amazing lact connected with these gold glass cups of Christian designs is that all were purposely broken; for they are principally found imbedded in the cement which closes the loculi or funeral chambers, the receptacles for the sar¬ cophagi, in the Catacombs of Rome. These cups when first discovered in situ, that is in their original places in the catacombs, were always broken, the rims or sides of the cups were missing, the bottoms with the design alone remaining in place. They were so firmly imbedded in the cement that they had to be chiseled out with care and the adhering cement afterward removed by scraping. Many theories have been suggested in order to explain this curious circumstance which has baffled the ingenuity of many investigators up to the present time. Some held that these cups were gifts of groom to bride and vice versa at betrothal or wedding, and that the cups were broken on purpose when death overtook one of the partners of this marriage compact. Others assumed that these were private Eucharistic cups used by the dead and buried with them. The breaking has also been explained as accidental, the unconscious act of persons passing through the dark corridors of the Catacombs. Another theory is that these cups were inserted in the cement and employed in the place of epitaphs, on the assumption that the relatives of the dead would recognize the identity of the occupants of the tombs by the cups which were known to them. This latter theory is the one generally adopted by archaeologists, notwithstanding the great proba¬ bility that only very few could possibly have known the cups of their relatives and friends, and regardless of the fact that, the passages in the Catacombs being so dark, it would have been impossible to recognize the design on the cups except by removing them. There is but one explanation to cover all the known facts of position, condition and theme of these now so valued relics of early Christian art, and this is that the cups were used as amulets on account of the representations they bore, and were placed on the exterior instead of in the in¬ terior of the tombs in order to admonish the crowds of evil spirits and malign influences which were supposed to flit back and forth through the dark corridors, ready to seize upon the dead manes at every possible opportunity. These gold glass amulets with the figures of Christ, apostles and saints notified these influences — these phan¬ toms of the old paganism — that the deceased had departed believing in Christ, and that thus he had acquired the right to rest in peace. Thus we have a connecting link, in the imagination, between the new religion ot Jesus Christ and the dark jumble of superstition that its followers inherited from their ancestors, who had believed in the gods of imperial and decadent Rome — a theology that had been corrupted from every source penetrated by the Roman arms (for the empire absorbed the gods as well as the goods of conquered nations). This glimpse into the minds of the Early Christians is even more absorbing when we stop to consider that they were for the most part recruited from the ranks of the common people, that hence pagan super¬ stition was almost instinctive with them and that Christianity had a hard task in the early years of its existence to combat the psychology that was the popular inheritance. The breaking of the cups can hardly be satis¬ factorily explained as a mere process or ceremony at the death of man and wife, no mention of such rites having been found in the ancient records. It is the belief of the writer they were broken simply to insure their permanency on the tomb and as a provision of safety against theft. For their power as amulets lay alone in the design of Christ and saints, not in their form. To prevent theft the rims, edges and sides were broken away, always with greatest care, thereby making the cups useless to the living. Of the three hundred odd cups known to archaeologists, but one or two are entire, and those were found inside of the tombs, not outside. two thirty-six JUNE 1922 mceRnAcionAL AN AMERICAN "OLD MASTER lthough he was born in England, the name of Thomas Sully has always been intimately identified with _ Philadelphia, for he lived there lor sixty-five years. Horncastle, in Lincolnshire, was the place of his birth, which occurred in 1783. He came with his parents to America at the age of nine, and lived in Charlestown and Richmond before going to Philadelphia at the age of twenty- four. Forty-five years of his residence in the last- named city were _ Thomas Sally's beauti¬ ful art seen in mem¬ orial exhibition of 255 of his paintings • • In/ EDITH W. POWELL spent in the house at 1 1 South Fifth Street which Stephen Girard re¬ modelled to suit the painter’s purposes. From the first the eminent Philadel¬ phians of his day flocked to him for their portraits. He was called the “court painter of Philadelphia” for he painted very nearly all her great and near great. Since Philadelphia is so closely associ¬ ated with the very beginnings of art in America, it is singu¬ larly appropriate that memorial ex¬ hibitions of some ot the earliest of our painters should be held there today. Last November a large number of Benjamin West’s most famous works were shown by the Art Alliance in Rittenhouse Square, and now, at the close of the season, comes the Thomas Sully menorial exhibition at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts. The scope of the exhibition is shown by the fact that fully two hundred and thirty-five of his most famous paintings have been assembled. Sully was before all else a portrait painter. In his recent biography by Edward Biddle and Mantel Fielding, the great majority of the 2,631 MM ■ ■ 1 » 1 m 1 SELF PORTRAIT BY THOMAS SULLY canvases listed are found to be portraits. In the present ex¬ hibition, the only work which is not a portrait or a head of some description is “Musidora,” lent by the Metropolitan Museum, which was not original with Sully, but a copy of a painting by Benjamin West having a nude figure as its subject. At the time that Sully was starting on his career, Gilbert Stuart was the greatest figure in American art. An interesting anecdote is related of the first meeting of the two in 1807, when the younger painter was given an oppor¬ tunity to bring some of his can¬ vases to the master for criticism. Sully was filled with apprehension, un¬ til, finally, Stuart said, “Keep what you have and get what you can.” Keeping this criti¬ cism in mind, it is interesting to look over the great array of portraits that gaze from their frames on wall after wall of the Penn¬ sylvania Academy. It will be seen that even his earliest paintings were dis¬ tinguished by pene¬ tration into char¬ acter and ski 1 1 1 u 1 technique, so that Stuart was more than justified in telling the young artist to “keep what he had.” At every turn one is arrested by the compelling quality ol his presen¬ tation of personality. He gives us a glimpse into the very heart of his subject in countless instances. Look at the twinkle in that mischievous maiden’s eye. Here’s a spirited and imperious girl. A dame of high degree, that. There is the man ol instant action. What a fine, kindly face is this noted physician’s! How appraising is the glance of that elderly Quakeress! And lor all his wealth, that old man, without a doubt, lived frugally. june 1922 two thirty-seven mceRnAcionAL THOMAS JEFFERSON BY THOMAS SULLY One notes that the women are not out-of-door types. In SuIIy’s day it was the fashion to be delicate and fragile. The word “ladylike” had deep significance. Ringlets and a demure bearing were inseparable companions. His subjects were the aristocrats of their day, and the catalogue of the exhibition reads like a list of the Assembly — affording no end of information as to the social ramifications of Philadelphia’s prominent families. Sully has been called the “Sir Thomas Law¬ rence of America” because of his grace of line and charm of color. Sir Thomas was indeed the painter whom Sully particularly studied when he had the opportunity to visit England as a young man. He went there at the age of twenty-six, being enabled to do so through the subscription of two hundred dollars each from seven leading citizens of Philadelphia. In order to remain as long as possible he practiced the most trying frugality. Speaking later of this period, he said he never passed nine months of more slaving toil, for he had promised to recompense each of his benefactors by a copy of some masterpiece. This required all of his efforts in the daytime. By night he studied osteology, for West had suggested to him on his arrival that he would benefit by a knowledge of the internal structure of the skull. There are several canvases at the memorial exhibition made before this trip. One of these, the portrait of Miss Sally Etting, is very beautiful in its Rembrandt- esque color and tone. That of Mrs. Joseph IJopkinson, wife of the author of “Hail Columbia,” painted in the same manner, is fine in its flesh tones and com¬ position. And the self-portrait in which he is shown painting the picture of the lady whom he afterward married belongs to this period. It is of unusual in¬ terest, as it is doubtless a truthful presentation of himself, and also shows how remarkable was his art even at this early period. He was practically self-taught. His only instructors had been a brother-in-law, a fiery French¬ man with whom he soon quar¬ reled, and his brother, Lawrence, who dabbled in miniature paint¬ ing. This brother made the only study from life of Patrick Henry, from which Sully made his portrait, so rich in dark reds and greens. On SuIIy’s return from England, in 1810, we find him painting the lovely Airs. Chamberlain and Mrs. Walter Franklin. Both of these portraits are executed not only with power but with dignity, simplicity and unaffectedness. The next year he painted the admirable full-length portrait of Rear-Admiral Charles Stewart, grandfather of the Irish agitator, Charles Stewart Parnell. His like¬ ness of President Alonroe, made twenty years later, is also a full-length portrait, but is far less successful, and seems rather the delineation of a costume than a personality. The head of George Frederick Cooke, the English tragedian, was made in 1 8 1 1 and is an exceptionally good piece of work. It has rich, warm, harmonious color and is direct and knowing in execution. Soon after, he made the full length portrait of the same actor as Richard III, which in its excellence of draughtsmanship, inclusion of detail, and smooth application of pigment, is reminiscent of the manner to which the French Academicians of the bo’s and 70’s were devoted. two tbirty-eigbl JUNE 1922 mceRnAcionAL From members of SuIIy’s family it is learned that he was always interested in developing different phases of his work. Fie made numerous experiments in the preparation of color and canvas, as well as in various artistic effects. For instance, in the portrait of Mrs. George G. Maris and her son, made in 1813, curls, clouds and a marble col¬ umn seem to have interested him more than the personality ol his sitters. In the portrait of Mrs. Hosack (the wife of Dr. David Hosack who seconded Alexander Hamilton in his duel with Aaron Burr) the painter was interested in the modelling of the face in the strongest of high lights. In his portrait of Colonel Jonathan Williams, loaned to this exhibi¬ tion by West Point with a num¬ ber of other excellent portraits of army officers, he employed a simplification of detail which appeared later in his portraits of Queen Victoria as well as in those of Fanny Kemble. Another innovation was the use of pastel color schemes in his portraits of women, and these seem particularly appropriate in his presentations of such a dainty personality as Mrs. John Price Wetherill, or the aristocratic Mrs. John Cox and the Penn-Gaskell sisters. And it was not long before pinker flesh tints were recurrent, as in the portraits of Mrs. Edmund Watmaught, and Mr. and Mrs. Nicholas Biddle, all painted in 1826. On several occasions, Sully met with difficulty in obtaining pay for his work. From the first he kept a register of all his paintings, stating when each canvas was begun, when finished, and data regarding his sitters, such as their social status and means. He also included the valuation he placed on the picture and what he actually re¬ ceived. One of the biggest of his business worries was connected with the “Washington Crossing the Delaware,” now in the Brooklyn Museum. The Legislature of South Carolina had com¬ missioned him to execute a portrait of Washington. Without orders, Sully decided to paint a “Wash¬ ington Crossing the Delaware” instead. It turned out to be too large for the designated space and was refused by the Legislature. There was trouble also regarding payment for the majestic REBECCA GRATZ BY THOMAS SULLY “Lafayette” in Independ¬ ence Hall. It is said that a number of prominent Philadelphians engaged him to paint the distinguished Frenchman at the time of his visit in 1824-25. SuIIy’s price for the work was Si, 600. All that he received was $250, the proceeds from the ball given in Philadelphia in honor of the Marquis. Another portrait of Lafayette which appears in the memorial exhibition is the preliminary study of his head, loaned by Miss Imbrey of New York. It is one of the finest works Sully ever produced, done in a moment of his greatest power, so deft, forcelul and concise is its execu¬ tion. There is no picture in the exhibition that the connoisseur would prefer to this. Of his self-portraits, the one of 1834 is one of his most vigorous and interesting works. In this the ruggedness of the brush work is as modern as is his unmitigated realism. He seems quite gaunt and unkempt and nervously alert. Although there is a slight resemblance to his early portrait, already mentioned, in which he is painting his future wife, there is no similarity between this and his later self-portraits, in which he appears as a fastidious man of taste. One of the places of honor in this june 1922 two thirty-nine mceRnAcionAL “queen victoria” by thomas sully exhibition is held by the full length of Queen Victoria ascending her throne. It is not one of the two portraits of the Queen made from life. One of these is in the Metropolitan Museum, not loaned for the exhibition, and the other was made for Hodgson and Graves, engravers, of London. This full length portrait was made from sketches and from the first named work, and was not finished until more than a year and a half after his return. As a portrait, it is excellent; in color, it has a rose-brown tonality which shows how great was his restraint and control. As is well known, the Queen was short of stature. This Sully has cleverly concealed; he has lent her an appearance of stately height by having her coronation robes trail down the steps. This painting was made for the Society of the Sons of St. George of Phila¬ delphia, with whom he later had his famous law¬ suit because he made a copy of their picture for the citizens of South Carolina. The society con¬ tested his right to make a duplicate of the painting, but the court gave a decision in favor of the artist. It was just before he went to England to paint the Queen that he made the six studies of Frances Anne Kemble in various Shakespearian roles. That in which she imper- „ „ 1 SAMUEL COATES sonates Beatrice is one of by thomas sully his most pleasing and best known works. It is included in the exhibition with two others of the six. Although it is said that she was not beautiful, it is incredible when one sees these portraits, until one remembers that Sully was a master in bringing out the best in his sitter. A remarkable proof of this, by the way, is the portrait ol Rebecca Gratz, who was claimed to be the prototype of Rebecca in “Ivanhoe.” The portrait was painted when she was filty, and yet it is convincing as a presentation ot a young woman anywhere between the ages of twenty and thirty. From all accounts, Sully had a charming per¬ sonality and was the most genial and courteous of men. His home was one of the centers of hospi¬ tality in the city. He was held in such high esteem that in his old age the city repealed an ordinance regarding the destruction of his house so that it could not be demolished until after his death. His family numbered nine children of his own and three step-children. His wife was the widow ol his brother, Lawrence, in whose family he lived during the early days in Richmond before he moved to Philadelphia. She appears in two portraits in the memorial exhibition. One of these was made just before he went to England in 1808 and was retouched fifty years later. The other shows her in her old age, with her dog, Ponto, two forty JUNE 1922 inceRnACionAL gazing at her, his head laid fondly upon her knee. Among other portraits of the painter’s family, which are so numerous as to form one of the features of the exhibition, is that of his son, Thomas Willcocks Sully. In this the quality of the flesh tones and the texture of the hair and skin are reminiscent of Titian. This son was himself a painter of ability, who died in his thirties. The canvas is undated and it is possible that the father may have worked over it long after the son’s death in order to bring this labor of love to its rare perfection. Another portrait is that of a brother, Matthew, also undated, which has the same unity and beautiful tonal qualities. Then there is a daughter, Jane, who married the illustrator Darley. SuIIy’s son, Alfred, is the subject of the “Torn Hat,” which belongs to the Boston Museum. Although SuIIy’s paintings are often criti¬ cized as lacking in strength, this charge could never be brought against the majority ol his portraits. He did, however, paint a number of fanciful heads of a sentimental type, and it is these that have cast a slight shadow over his reputation. He is con¬ sidered chiefly as a painter of women and children, yet some of his keenest eharacter- “ COLONEL JONATHAN WILLIAM” BY THOMAS SULLY izations are of men. The greatest number ol his best portraits were the fruit of his first ripe maturity, during his late twenties and early thirties, although he made his famous series of portraits of Fanny Kemble when he was fifty, and of Queen Victoria when fifty-four. The general impression that one gets from his work is that he must have been by natural gift as well as by election a student of character. He understood the structure ol the head; he knew how to draw. No matter how great was his amenity, or his desire to show his sitter in the most favorable light, he never let fancy obscure his vision of fact, and, above all, he remained true to his subject’s personality. It is true that his more lanciful paintings do not appeal to our generation as they did to his. They seem to us insipid, sentimental and artificial. But in them he was influenced by the spirit of his time, and so our quarrel is not so much with the artist as with the age in which he lived. The painter himself must be judged by the work which was most characteristically his, in which his own particular talent stood revealed. It was in SuIIy’s portraits that his individuality asserted itself and it is because of his portraits ,, „ that he holds his eminent GEORGE FREDERICK COOKE by thomas sully place in American art. JUNE I922 two forty-one inceRnACionAL SOTM© the flapper:' by mi (Bene du (Bo is two forty-two JUNE 922 mceRnAcioriAL sram© fpuy (Pene du I30IS byfjuy (Pene du 1501 S t is possible to find a definite demarcation separating Guy Pene du Bois the painter and Guy Pene du Bois the writer. This article, in any case, by the writer on the painter may quite well be within the limits of that virtuous modesty demanded by nice Victorians, though this is doubtful. But I neither want to begin this enterprise on the de¬ fensive nor with a quibble set up in an effort to appear degagee, witty, brazen or justified. The last does not matter in the least. That it is possible for the writer to push his pen in the interest of the painter merely shows that we are well out of the Victorian moonlight. The writer who has seen so many better writers could be jealous of the painter (he is not) who has never seen a painter of more potential value than himself. They have, however, very little in common, these two. The painter could be jealous. He is an egoist. He is emotional. The writer never. He can set the painter’s works around him and judge them quite as though they were not a product of the other half of himself. In this find a certain implaca¬ bility or, if cynical, a design drawn in order to disarm the reader. The last again really does not matter in the least. Of these two, critic and painter, the painter alone is idealistic. He began life an idealist, a real one. He continues to be a real idealist. It is for that reason that in his satire there is some¬ times something akin to a bite. But it is not from bitterness. There can be a love of the humanness in fault. People are all right. They are ludicrous only in the badges they wear, badges that are tokens of devotion to one ideal or another. Badges or marks left by the chains of their slavery. Funny slaves, proud of their chains, strut¬ ting in them, and nice in the ingenious generosity of all naivete. It cannot be from hatred that they are satirized. The bitterness other critics speak of is bosh. The pamter began his career in the world- after some years in art schools here and abroad — as a police reporter on a New York newspaper. He had not become half writer yet. That was to come with art and music criticism. The music criticism, which never amounted to anything even pretty — left the painter to spend every evening of two long winters amid the dress suits and gowns of opera patrons. It was a change from the police stations. It set him painting shirt fronts. It set him think¬ ing of the ideal to which these people were slaves. He never saw the badly dressed music lovers. He has always been a little afraid to be led into a love of art. This at life’s expense. Most painters write life down with an eraser. They are afraid that life might complicate their art. They tremble be¬ fore impurities. Their art must remain vir¬ ginal. It must be with¬ out vulgarities. It must be a thing with every t crossed and every i dotted — this or the reverse of it, which is to say of the conformist or of the non-conformist schools. It is natural if not inevitable that the particulariza¬ tions of his youth should be giving way to general¬ izations, that he should now sometimes look back upon his art and find there something worth the reminiscence to him and that a great deal of exercise should give some mannerisms to the style ol his exercising. But all this is aside. He attempts to progress and, being stupid or slow blooded enough to like The writer in reviewing the art of the painter sags “ The bitterness other critics speak of is bosh " JUNE IQ 22 two forty -three mceRnAcionAL smtoa© tion than the writer. He keeps trying to brush the smile off the writer’s face. “You can be a clown if you like. Don’t make me one.’’ He really must be taken seri¬ ously, not with a frown neces¬ sarily, but seriously. The solemn fellows in sculpture and mural painting are playing into the hands of the popular ignor¬ ance of art. This demands some¬ thing a long way above the popu¬ lace, a thing so inhuman that people will immediately believe in its superiority, something be¬ fore which one may kneel, some¬ thing that like a religion will have the truly pallid lure ol aloofness. In a country whose art lovers whisper in picture galleries it is inevitable that the men who put art above life will be considered the greater artists. Familiarity with these people would breed contempt. They admire the terri¬ bly white marble of a colorless statue simply because they think they should. A picture of an angel, about which they know nothing, would, in accordance with this plan, be considered of more im¬ portance than a picture ot a shop girl. There is no reverence for the familiar shop girl. There is a great deal of rever¬ ence for the unfamiliar angel. Art is great in proportion to its in¬ comprehensibility. The moment that it seems a familiar thing striking into the consciousness of the observer with human rather than “art” terms it will seem to want dignity. It does not matter that the correct word for this dignity is pompousness. It does not matter that affectation takes the place of sincerity or, the processes of honesty, his progression wants that amazing rapidity which is seen now and then among those very young eclectics who study ways of talking about life in preference to studying life. He cannot repeat Cezanne and retain his own philosophy. He can like Cezanne’s work but knows quite well that the man be¬ hind it would have bored him terribly. He is sophisticated to some degree but not to the degree which has sent so many youths to the study of the arts of children and savages. The painter has with¬ out the least sign of doubt less sophistica- “ THE ART LOVERS ” BY GUY PENE DU BOIS “THE CAROUSEL ” BY GUY PENE DU BOIS two Jorty-f our .JUNE 1922 mceRnAcionAL and rather, it does matter ior the moment that a painter talks like a layman it will be sus¬ pected that he is not an artist. It is, however, quite possible that the foregoing has nothing to do with this subject. It is quite possible also that it may be, with reference to the subject ot this paper, misleading. There is nothing in the world more ob¬ noxious than that hero of a few decades ago which we know in America as the “ rough diamond,” and who, though he has outlived his day as much as some few Parisian beaux who really belong to the period of Barbey d’ Aure- villy, is still to be encountered occasionally in New York and much too often in the West. It is pitiable but true that he is still to be encountered among painters who feel that in order to convey an impression of truth they must use the most ordinary arrange¬ ments of the most vulgar or com¬ mon words. Anything resembling elegance or suggesting a meticu¬ lousness in the choice of media is abhorent to these republicans. Truth should wear overalls. Pene du Bois the painter only occasionally jumps out of the fatigue uniform of the republicans. His many homely phrases in paint this writer can¬ not readily forgive. He feels that in order to paint a convincing por¬ trait of a man paying the sin of indulgence in fat it is not necessary to be one. He cannot feel that Clara Morris was an artist when, while playing a part, she worked herself into real tears. He has respect for artifice. The artist must not forget that he is an observer, a man watching the parade “ BILLBOARD ” BY GUY PENE DU BOIS “ HALLWAY - ITALIAN RESTAURANT ” BY GUY PENE DU BOIS from a safe though convenient distance and armed, in any case, with enough strength of character to be kept physically out of it. This may be left as it stands. However, the im¬ portant things about a picture are not the mat¬ ters of fact. Rubens painted fat women in order to convey not his love of fat women but of luxury. The prim women of the Floren¬ tine portraits are the result ol a reverence of chastity. The intensity of Ingres’s classicism produced these cold figures so much disliked by the romantic Dela¬ croix. The artist begins by gathering facts. JUNE i g 2 2 two forty- five UTCeRDAClOnAL SOTM© He ends by building a philosophy out of them. It is important that the production of art be actuated by a love of life. The love of art produces picture buyers, con¬ noisseurs, and dilletantes — it cannot produce art. The subject, however, is Pene du Bois painter. He is rather near the writer. He is so near the writer that he has become to him a commonplace like the windows of the room in which he writes. He can overlook the painter’s occasional ripping of the masques of iriends and enemies and passers- by. He can forgive the tendency to make incon¬ clusive statements. He has watched him struggle to make a leg round and heavy, to make a figure stand in space, to construct a design that will have the substantial qualities of a public building. Sometimes in his character of critic he smiles. There is so much dullness in the substantial painting of the world and so little imagination. Perhaps commerce which seems, unfortunately, to run the world is against imagination. It demands fact persistently. It would shear every¬ thing to the bone. It has created in this country, with the desire for efficiency and speed, a fear of elaboration in speech, in design and neces- GRETCHEN BY GUY PENE DU BOIS sarily in thought. Probably he would prefer to have the painter on the Robert Chanler side of the art fence, doing fearless and extravagant flourishes in the manner — the arrogant manner — of a grandee. The writer is an aristocrat. It is to be feared that the painter is a plain man and as the prey of contemporary influences afraid to play with the truth, to splash with the royal purple of extravagance, to be unfair to his brother. His pictures are inclined to be mincing. His language is. He has inherited carefulness and economy from Breton ancestors. The big brushes of his youth have grown smaller and with the loss in size has gone the love of splashing paint and with it recklessness — the more or less joyous pictures, joyous technically at least, of an after¬ noon’s debauch. Perhaps paint slinging is a dream of youth. It is likely that most youth is spent in hammering unneeded nails. We need not go into that. But youth and follies in men are very often undying. They never cease liking to talk about themselves. They even write down things that spoken would have a very much better chance of being forgotten. two forty-six JUNE 1922 L i nc e r n ac i o n a l “PORTRAIT OF FERDINAND HODLER ” BY EMIL ORLIK “THE PROPHET” BY EMIL NOLDE GERMAN EXPRESSIONISM IN WOOD f xylography, as some of us sus¬ pect, fell farth¬ est of all the arts in the gen¬ eral Nineteenth Century de¬ cline, it has at least “come back” in these first twenty years of a new century with an abounding life and energy unknown as yet in any other art. In the two chief homes of modernism, France and Ger¬ many, there is today hardly a painter or sculptor of note who does not on occasion express himself in the wood medium; and there are scores of artists who make it their chief if not their only means of expression. In France (as in Italy and England) the finest contemporary books are those in which printer and wood engraver are designing hand in hand, while in Germany there is just now a be¬ wildering new crop of block-illustrated books and portfolios of prints from the wood. In both countries, too, the windows and walls of art shops — thousands of them — are gay with the spirited w'ork of “the younger engravers.” Through all Modern movement fin ds an ages-old medium in xylography , which re¬ gains immense popular¬ ity in republic • * by SHELDON CHENEY this activity — curiously enough, considering the “hardness” of the medium that is chosen — the lead has been taken and the honors carried away by the out-and-out modernists. Some of the critics and galleries, to be sure, go no farther than those artists who are timid enough to be called merely “Post-Impressionists”; but in general the critics, publishers and public have shilted their allegiance to types of engraving that he between that sort of mild progressivism and the gorgeously outrageous things done by the wildest ot the Ex¬ pressionists. Certainly the thing hailed as the new art ol wood engraving ten to twenty years ago — the sort of posteresque, half-naturalistic, half- conventionalized designs which really w'ere new in that they revived a long lost technique of auto¬ graphic and direct cutting of the block, but which are now seen to have belonged to the Impression¬ ist rather than to the Post-Impressionist period — has been forced to give place to something freer, something more emotional, something marked by june 1922 two forty-nine inceRTiAcionAL §0101© a headlong search for “form” rather than by truth to nature and respect for “the hard, cold line.” In France the voice of the older engravers still persists, but grows feebler year by year, while in Germany, if the voice is there at all, it is completely drowned out in the noise raised by and around the Expressionist movement. By way of historical background, it is well to remember that wood engraving once before en¬ joyed a place among the important creative arts, so that the greatest contemporary artists used it as a means ot expression; but that it then fell into a period of decline and neglect which finally led to the almost total eclipse of creative work in the Nineteenth Century. Germany particularly has a tradition of glorious accomplishment, bound up with the names of Diirer and Holbein, but even that did not prevent the decay of the art there as well as elsewhere in the world. When you and I began to be interested in art, the thing that passed for wood engraving was a reproductive process involving the transfer of an artist’s work in another medium — painting, wash or pen drawing — into the black and white illustra¬ tion that could be used cheaply with magazine text. The engraver no longer needed and seldom LANDSCAPE BY RICHARD SEEWALD had creative ability, the inventive part of the business being left to the artist whose work was being reproduced. Instead of cutting the wood directly and in white¬ line, he laboriously carved around the black lines laid down by some other hand, often coming to a marvelous imitation of the draughtsman’s care- fully drawn line or involved hatching, but adding nothing to the world’s store of creative art. In another direction he was developing a virtuosity in tone-engraving that is likely to take place as one of the world wonders of technical proficiency; but again, in the conscientious imitation of the painter’s brush-stroke or the transparent wash of the illustrator, he was merely transferring the dis¬ tinctive qualities of one art into the mechanics of another which had lost its own individuality. This tone-engraving was so very fine in its field — par¬ ticularly in the work of Timothy Cole and Henry Wolf in America — that it persisted long as a sub¬ stitute for the mechanical half-tone reproduction and still crops up at times in our magazines. Perhaps the interest in Japanese prints had something to do with it, or perhaps it was merely a questioning of all the arts at the end of the cen¬ tury, or a happy reflex of the unhappy “art nou¬ veau” movement ; at any rate a few artists began two fifty JUNE 922 mceRnACioriAL SOTDE© to experiment, about twenty vintage fairly true to the wood (although 1 J BY ALEXANDER GERBIG J V & years ago, with the wood medium “in the old fashion” — or without regard to any fashion. Instead of copying other men’s paintings and designs on the block, and engraving in a method calculated to compete with the current pretty half-tones of commerce, they became “painter-engravers” instead ot reproductive en¬ gravers. They set out consciously to rediscover and to respect the distinctive limitations and possibilities of the wood as a medium of expression, and they inaugurated what may be called the modern creative period of woodcutting. Although they appeared in various countries almost simul¬ taneously, their work has certain unmistakable qualities in common; most notably, perhaps, a posteresque conventionalization and directness, coupled with clean Nineteenth Century draughts¬ manship, as seen alike in the prints of the German Orhk, the English Nicolson and Craig, the American Dow, the Swiss Valioton. It is a print of Emil Orlik that is in a sense the starting point for this article. His portrait of Ferdinand Hodler will be marked at once among the illustrations as the most conservative (eigh¬ teen years ago it looked revolutionary) of all the prints shown. It combines good draughtsman¬ ship, and doubtless fidelity to the subject, with pleasing composition and a technique that is there is a good deal of going around black lines instead of cutting away with white ones). It is typical of the best work of its day, and it has by no means lost its power to please the eye quickly and yet with something more than catchiness. But when it is compared with the other illustrations one does not need the date on its face to suggest that it is the oldest of the lot. Art has moved away from this sort of design and this sort of engraving in the eighteen years since it was made. One reason is that when one got that far in surface expression, it was almost impossible to go farther (without color). But the real reason was Post-Impressionism, and particularly Post-Impressionism leading through Cubism and Futurism and other technical credos to Expressionism, which embraces not a technical system or a new variation of the art-is-imitation philosophy, but a new approach to art. This Orhk portrait is of the Impressionist period, whereas almost every one of the other illustrations is tinged with Expressionism — if, indeed, some are not drowned in it. 1 realize that a large block of readers will find this the “best” picture of the series; but they will be the ones whose minds have been more or less closed tor twenty years, who have been so carelully trained to look for fidelity to nature and technical proficiency that they june 1922 two f ijty-one mceRnACioriAL sm®E© “PIERRO” BY MAX UNOLD “LITERATl” BY W. SCHNARRENBERGER cannot forgive the lack of those qualities for the sake oi certain other elements which many (and apparently sane) people have concluded of late years to be more important in works of art. At any rate, there is my beginning point. Let me jump immediately almost to the other extreme of the illustrations: to Emil Nolde’s remarkable and expressive print, “The Prophet.” Nolde’s work seems at first to be careless beyond words; but on final analysis his looseness of handling is likely to prove less a matter of care¬ lessness than a part ol a well-grounded technique of directness. The lover of wood engraving of another sort is likely to be caught off his guard by such a print, and to exclaim, “Oh, / could make an engraving like that,” or “That is the sort of thing one does by accident.” In the first place it has (as it seems to me, at least) an emotional depth, a quality beyond the surface, which I take to be the chief thing that the Expressionists are alter. But perhaps — as hap¬ pens whenever one ventures to write on any phase of contemporary German or Russian art — I can serve my purpose best by attempting a definition of Expressionism, since an understanding of that is the quickest way to an appreciation of most of the rest of the illustrations, as it is of most of present-day German painting. Primarily Expres¬ sionism is pre-occupation with the emotion evoked by an object, or purely creatively out ol the artist’s consciousness, and the conveying of that emotion by aesthetic form, as against pre¬ occupation with the outward aspect ol the object and technical display in imitating it. Expression¬ ism implies no adherence to any technical system, as did Cubism and Futurism, but its essence lies in a new approach toward art (new in the sense of differing from that generally followed for several centuries past). That approach finds its direction from the conception of art as primarily expression instead of representation. Western art since Raphael’s time has been almost exclusively repre¬ sentative, and in the most recent periods the twin obsessions of the artist have been naturalistic representation and technical finish. The Expres¬ sionist turns around and says that it makes absolutely no difference whether an artist’s com¬ pleted work is like or unlike anything in nature, so long as he conveys that aesthetic emotion which he has experienced (possibly out of nature, possi¬ bly out of nothing tangible or seeable); and he further claims that in the struggle for technical finish, the desire for smoothed-down, facile and sweet surface execution, certain more important elements have been lost or obscured; native vigor, emotion, that something indefinable called form. Lie distorts nature oftener than not, he sometimes abandons recognizable objects entirely in favor of abstract arrangements, he strikes through to the essentials of emotion and form without regard to the niceties of surface technique. If he is both sincere and vigorously creative, he achieves some¬ thing approaching naked aesthetic expression. Woodcutting, depending on precision because of the very nature of the knife or the graver, would seem at first thought the most inappropriate of all two f i jty-two june 1922 mceRHAcionAL SOTOI© TITLE PAGE CUT FOR A “PASSION” BY EWALD DULBERG mediums for an artist whose approach thus dis¬ counts literalness and clean line. But there is a precision of mass, of Iight-and-shade-in-contrast, and particularly of that “form” which conveys emotion, as well as a precision of natural outline, perspective and tone; and despite the general impression to the contrary, these are sorts of precision which the Expressionists do value — and occasionally achieve. Coming back to “The Prophet,” there is, besides the obvious decorative posteresque value of the design, a subtlety, a sensi¬ tiveness, an emotional directness, which could be conveyed only by the nicest adjustment ol vision and revealing technique. As other examples of this extreme looseness of technique coupled with more or less distortion of outward nature, take the “Kleinstadt” of Fritz Ehlotzky or Otto Lange’s “Worship of the Three Kings.” The former will prove of exceptional interest to any one who has studied the handling of the graver, for it achieves a feeling of moving form, a transparency and vibration of light, that would seem the last possible qualities to be got from wood — and yet with an absolute reliance on the characteristic white graver-line. The Lange print exhibits the Expressiomstic directness in a different sense, a striking through, without regard for inessentials like perspective and exact outline, to an individualistic conception of the subject and to a somewhat Cubistic treatment of form. This print of a religious subject reminds me that I first took note of Lange’s work at an exhibi¬ tion of modern religious art in Dresden last winter. There were exhibits of all sorts of church arts and “kleinstadt” by fritz ehlotzky crafts — mosaics, tablets, altar-cloths, model dec¬ orated chapels, crucifixes, etc., as well as religious paintings and prints and cartoons for mural decorations. The general tone of the whole was far more radical than this illustrated print of Lange’s, in many cases running into the work of the out-and-out “wild ones.” I couldn’t imagine any parson of my acquaintance looking over the show without coming out several times for air; and I can’t conceive of any board of church trustees in America accepting an exhibit for plac¬ ing within the walls under their moral protection. (It is an old Anglo-Saxon feeling, I think, that what is strange is more than likely to be immoral.) And yet somebody, many somebodies, must be demanding this sort of religious art in Germany. Consider it a religion or blasphemy, there is an avalanche of prints and pictures on religious subjects (list now in Germany. A second one here, reproduced chiefly for its interesting “painting in whites,” is Ewald Dulberg’s title page cut for a “Passion” series. Personally 1 rather dislike this sort of distorted realism linked with a sweetish technique; but the method is typical of a consider¬ able group of widely appreciated engravers. The other illustrations are representative of distinct phases of Expressionist experiment: the exaggerated but remarkably direct “Picrro” of Max Unold; the indeterminate “Vintage” of Alexander Gerbig, achieving almost a Cezannish sense ol voluminous form and movement; the “Literati” of Wilhelm Schnarrenberger, with its touch of the grotesque and its mixed archaism and modernism in the execution ; and the brilliant land- J u N E 922 two fifty-three mceRnAcionAL #)o$ ijaftfeu PAGE FROM “ELIA.” BY RUDOLPH KOCH “WORSHIP OF THE THREE KINGS” BY OTTO LANGE scape by Richard Seewald, with its rhythmic pat¬ terning of blacks and whites. The last illustration is a book page by Rudolf Koch, where design and lettering are both cut in the wood in an attempt to harmonize text and picture. Out of such experiments — more experiment than solid achievement as yet — is the modern woodcut ot Germany being evolved. There is no outstanding type as yet — fortunately — beyond the general one characterized by indeterminateness, looseness and struggle for direct expression. But the old engraving, even the semi-modern sort of Orlik and Valloton, has almost disappeared. One hears most, of course, of the extremist group, beginning with such prints as Nolde’s and carrying on with the still looser and coarser work of that seething, searching, powerfully creative, but often wild group of “Junge Kunst” painters that includes Pechstein, Kirchner, Klein, Schmidt- Rotluff, Rohlfs and Heckel. Every observer is entitled to his opinion in a matter so new as this. Mine is that the art of woodcutting of the future is more likely to evolve out of these feverishly direct, sketchy, short-hand blocks than out of any other “tendency” now apparent in wood engraving. I am perfectly will¬ ing to listen to the man who answers, “But they have lost beauty out of their work” — although I may suspect his definition of beauty. It may be merely something concerned with accuracy, not truth, and surface prettiness. But I grant that a lot, might be said profitably about combining this vigor, power and spiritual drive of the Germans with surer execution, and with the tempering steadiness that grows out of self-discipline. But it is the other point that I wish to em¬ phasize again here at the end; that it is not care¬ lessness or accidental effect that gives these prints their “feel” of freedom and emotion. I know from experience that wood does not work that way. It is perhaps the most uncompromising medium in the whole field ol the graphic arts. A woodblock under the knife may, indeed, be one of the cussedest things in the world; I remember certain ones that for general misbehavior I can compare only with a duck I once attempted to carve with a dull knife on a greased platter. A real bit of carelessness, in the case of Nolde’s “Prophet” or Gerbig’s “Vintage” would have wrecked just those qualities that the artist was most intent on achieving. An understanding of what that apparent carelessness, in engraving as in painting, really means, what it implies by way of a theory of directness and immediacy of expres¬ sion, that it is related inextricably with the fundamental problem of aesthetic form, why practically every artist since Cezanne has groped his way toward it in greater or less degree, con¬ sciously or unconsciously — an understanding of all that is perhaps the first key to appreciation of any branch of modern art. (NOTE ON THE ILLUSTRATIONS. — The cuts by Nolde and Seewald are taken from the catalog of an exhibition of Expressionist woodcuts at the I Ians Goltz Gallery, Munich. The designs by Orlik, Schnarrenberger, Unold and Ehlotzky are from “Der Original Holz- schnitt,” a book by Max Bucherer and Fritz Ehlotzky, recently published by Ernst Reinhardt. The Gerbig cut is from the Graphic Yearbook of the Fritz Gurlitt Gallery, Berlin, while the other three designs are from various magazines: that by Koch from “Das Plakat,” that by Dulberg from “Der Weisse Reiter” and that by Lange from “Illustrirte Zeitung.”) two fifty-four JUNE 1922 mceRHAcionAL simm Feature at National Fortrait Shov/ "THE MAN IN BLUE” ■' ' Lif eorqe Jjj.ks Although a portrait like “The Man in Blue” is distinctly novel, especially when it presents so modern a person as Mr. Luks’ subject, the artist has gained his point by departing from the conventional. The coat of vivid blue, broadly brushed in, is highly successful in centering the attention on the face and on the incisive, vigorous delineation of contour. The picture was shown in the tenth annual exhibition of the National Association of Portrait Painters at the Knoedler Galleries, New York. JUNE i o 2 2 two fifty-five tnceRHACionAL A VINE-CLAD RETREAT In this pergola, garden seats have been placed along the tiled walk, whence one ccm view the beauty of the garden two JiJty-six u N E 922 mceRHACionAL SIMPLICITY AND BEAUTY MARK THIS PERGOLA IN THE GARDEN OF MRS. WILLIAM COOLIDGE, MAGNOLIA, MASS. SPRINGTIME IS PERGOLA TIME long with the song of the birds, and the delicate breath of the hyacinth, comes our own ever new awak¬ ening to the joy of springtime ' ‘ Summer Houses ’ ’ of our ancestors have as¬ sumed new guises from Europe and Japan ‘ by MARY HARROD NORHiEND and summer. We look out upon the soft green earth, so lately emerging from her snowy covering, and think of the joy we shall find in dressing the garden plot, the walk and the pergola in their spring attire. Of course, Mother Nature takes first hand at all this, for before it is really safe to venture planting, or sowing, she has brought out for our delight the tiny crocus bulbs, just peeping through the cold ground, encouraged the trees to dress in their feathery gowns and has altogether set her domain in order so that we may begin to do our own planning in the way of further decoration. Perhaps we are thinking this year of making some changes in our garden plot. We are to build a tea house or mayhap a pergola or two and plant around them our favorite vines and flowers, until they are embowered in trailing beauty. Our grandmothers tripped gayly in and out of their little arbors or summer houses which were always a feature of every old - fashioned garden, even though that garden was not pretentious. Dear little arbors they were with their white latticed sides; simply constructed and covered sometimes with the Dutchman’s pipe, or perhaps the yellow Baltimore Belle or other climbing rose; often, too, they used the old-fashioned honeysuckle whose tender fragrant flowers were not sweeter than the “old, old story” so often told under their arching vines. We cannot do better in many of our small gardens than to use the same type of pergola- arbor, always remembering that simple vines are most suitable and the rich dark green leaf most effective against the white lattice. The pergola interests us today, as it is becom¬ ing a cherished feature in our posy plots and may june 1922 two fifty-seven mceRTiACtonAL OTM© be appropriately placed as an entrance or arranged as a porch where are scattered comfort¬ able seats oi stone or wood or a bit oi statuary in perspective. The latter is particularly charming as shown in a New England garden at the end of a long pergola. The roof of this is arched and its latticed sides covered here and there with vines of different kinds, but not so thickly as to shut out the sun, whose rays fall brightly across the green of the grassy orchard beyond, into the very heart of the pergola, casting lacy shadows as it sifts through the climbing vines. Another pergola on the same estate is constructed with the usual open roof, but the supporting pillars are tall and white, rising in stately fashion to meet the heavy masses of vines overhead and the curved effect of the whole as it shapes itself toward a beautiful foun¬ tain at one end is most unusual. Pergolas probably originated in Italy, where the vinegrowers constructed these beautiful supports for their glorious clusters of royal grapes. These swarthy vinegrowers builded better than they knew, their only thought being to support the grapes, finding they ripened better in this way. So from the sunny clime to our more wintry one we have transplanted the lovely pergola and developed it in many ways suitable to its surroundings. Sometimes we give it a rustic appearance to conform to a setting of wild flowers and trees, again its lines are of mission plainness, often painted white, or allowed to weather with the season, but always charming, always reminiscent of its origin in that sunny land where a pergola may be a joy to its possessor the year around. Of all the vines whose clustering beauty clambers over the pergola, the lovely wistaria is most suitable and better adapted to a variety of gardens than any other. The plain old-fashioned woodbine with its bright summer green and glow¬ ing autumnal foliage is always charming. A rose- covered pergola, where the Dorothy Perkins or crimson rambler overspreads the sober frame with graceful lengths, makes an exquisite note of color in a plot where tall trees or high shrubs cast a sombre shadow. Plant an English ivy, however, if your pergola has stone or brick posts. Its growth though slow at first is always satisfactory, and the rich green of the dark shiny leaves cannot be equalled THIS SEMI-CIRCULAR PERGOLA SUPPORTED BY FLUTED COLUMNS IS IN THE LARS ANDERSON GROUNDS, BROOKLINE, MASS. two fifty-eight JUNE 1922 mceRnAoonAL by any other climber. A lovely contrast is gained by the planting of bright huecl annuals massed along the ground at the roots of the ivy. There are many other varieties of vines which may be used with the pergola, but we must not forget the honeysuckle which flourishes so well and adapts itself to any location. The Japanese variety is especially fragrant and is loved by the humming bird and the bee. Another kind is the “Golden Netted,” whose leaves are net so rich in color, but are marked with the fine network of little yellow lines. The “Heckratti” is beautiful with its rosy hued blossoms — and so on through the long list of climbers, remembering to use where suitable the delicate white star jasmine, the Japanese Kadsura or the Chinese jasmine, all of which bloom for long periods, except the Kadsura whose stems and leaves are red in early spring but whose flowers are small. Do not fail to plant a hardy clematis somewhere if you find a little space, tor it will not conflict with any other climber in color. Use the white fragrant flowered variety, which grows so ireely. There is no end to what one may use, carefully harmonizing the planting with the general scheme of the garden, and so producing an effect that is artistic and suitable. Besides arbors and pergolas there have come down to us from our English ancestors the garden tea houses, called in the early days of our own country “summer houses.” They were a real institution in Colonial times and served as a delightful spot in which to enter¬ tain a chance guest with tea and sweets. Or perhaps the stately lady herself whose home was in the great house nearby would slip out into this quiet shady nook just to get a breath of the sweetness around her, where every flower breathed its fragrance through the solt summer air. These little houses were sometimes the work of a great architect, as that formerly owned by Elias Haskett Derby, of Salem, Massachusetts, which was designed by the noted Samuel McIntyre. This tea house is now on the beautiful estate of William C. Endicott, at Danvers, Massachusetts, and is interesting for its unusual shape as well as its age. Another garden house on the same estate was built by Joseph Peabody and has a pineapple top and latticed sides or wings. In our simple, old-fashioned gardens where the heliotrope, the tulip, and the rose bloom in pro- FROM THE PERGOLA ON THE GARDNER M. LANE ESTATE, MANCHESTER, MASS., ONE VIEWS THE WONDERFUL GARDEN BEYOND JUNE 1922 t w o / if tv -nine inceRnAcionAL sraoto fusion and the box-bordered walks with their beds of posies delight the eye, the simply constructed tea house is the appropriate thing. Builded on Colonial lines, with perhaps white lattice sides and the fragrant honeysuckle or wistaria growing over all, there should be placed inside of it comfortably built-in seats and a simple table whose firm top may hospitably hold the afternoon tea things. Here and there may hang a Chinese or English vase, cornucopia-shaped, to hold a few bright flowers. Thus is contrived the simplest form of tea house, but one which is artistic as well as comfortable and inexpensive. The rustic tea house stands next to the Colonial one as far as moderate cost and general adaptability are concerned. Do not place a tea house of this type in an Italian garden or in one with a Colonial setting, but in a woody, shady spot, where trees, rocks and wild flowers combine to form a cool green nook. A rustic house in such a place will blend with its surroundings as if nature herself had placed it there. We have in mind a tea house of this type with thatched roof at Ipswich, Massachusetts. It has for its setting a background of white birches and trees of darker hue, and by its side flows the little Ipswich River, the gentle ripple of its waves making music for the guests who delight to spend a few moments in this cool retreat. A charming Japanese garden at Shrewsbury, Massachusetts, laid out by a Japanese landscape gardener, contains a little tea house which appears to have been dropped there straight from old Japan. It is very simple, built on straight lines, VINE-CLAD SUMMER HOUSE WITH BACK¬ GROUND OF TREES ON GARDNER M. LANE ESTATE, MANCHESTER, MASS. two sixty JUNE 1922 mceRnAcionAL SOTM© and stands near a Iittie stream which is crossed by a rustic bridge. The effect is charming and most unusual. At Wenharn, reached by a short walk over a grassy slope is a tea house perched over an archway of rock, looking down upon a clear pool and white fountain, surrounded by iris and rushes. Under the arch is a com¬ fortable seat and around it vines clamber, cover¬ ing the old rock with a veiling of green leaves. Vines of many sorts are of course a delightful addition to any tea house, but they should not be planted as thickly as for a pergola, for the sides of the tea house generally furnish sufficient shade and the planting around it may be lower, producing thereby a most effective setting. If your tea house is rustic, use low growing wild flowers, with here and there a creeping vine winding up the posts. If Colonial, treat it with old- fashioned vines and flowers. Should your garden house be of Japanese design, leave it almost without planting, trusting to the setting to carry out the effect. Give each tea house its own suitable treatment. Careful thought and planning should be the watchword, and a reliable garden book your guide. Of the making of elaborate tea houses there is no end, but this thought should not discourage you, for a practical as well as beautiful tea or garden house can be built at low cost. If your purse is moderately filled and the space in your garden permits, study well its type and in just the right spot set your tea house or pergola, and you will be more than repaid for all of your thought and trouble. OCTAGONAL TEA HOUSE AND STONE ARCH ON THE JOHN C. PHILIPS ESTATE, WENHAM, MASS. JUNE 1922 two sixty-one ‘O/ie EDITOR'S hen the new management ot Inter¬ national Studio put in big type on the cover of the March issue the words “Twenty-Fifth Anniversary Number,” the purpose was merely to call the attention of the readers to the fact that the magazine had reached a laudably mature age. It was done in a spirit of celebration. The misconception that resulted was not foreseen, although it ought to have been. The art world naturally got the idea that the magazine had made a “splurge” to mark a big occasion, and that succeeding numbers would fall back into a standard neither so large nor so complete in the matter of reproductions and engaging features. Scores of readers sent letters commenting on the “anniversary number” and expressing good wishes for the future of International Studio, but not one seemed to accept the March issue as a real starting point. Well, the March number was not intended to appear as a spectacular beginning, but was put together with trepidation and haste as the nearest approximation to the new management’s ideal of an international art magazine. It was grievously hurried, and many mistakes were made, especially in the matter of physical appearance. An effort was made to correct those mistakes in April. The present number is regarded by the management as a still closer approach toward its ideal. Perhaps the misconception that sprang from the March number, with its five-color reproduc¬ tions and its ninety-four black-and-whites, was a good thing, after all, from the publishing stand¬ point, because it prevented the April number from assuming the character of an anti-climax. Everyone was surprised to see the next “regular” issue also come out with five color plates and with ninety-six reproductions in black and white. And all will agree that June, with its six color plates and one hundred and seven black-and-whites, more than keeps pace with the “Twenty-Fifth Anniversary Number.” One of the tasks of the editorial department is to keep the magazine evenly balanced in its contents, between the old and the new, and between painting, sculpture and the various other branches of art. The March and April numbers leaned too far toward the graphic and plastic; in June a better balance has been maintained. % % One reader wrote: “I appreciate that your anniversary number was a costly number.” That for JUNE brings up a subject which, though forever perti¬ nent, is not considered good form for editors to talk about. One of the problems that faced the new management was that of news-stand sales. The price of the magazine has been sixty cents a copy; in its new form it costs more than twice as much to produce as it used to. Therefore it has been deemed advisable, with this issue, to increase the price of the single copy to seventy-five cents. The subscription price, however, will remain six dollars a year. The letters which reach the editor’s desk indicate that International Studio in its new form has been received by the American art world as something that will fulfill a traditional need, and that will have a verv decided influence on the development of art and art appreciation in the nation. If this is true, then International Studio deserves the positive and active support ol every person connected, in whatever manner, with the American art movement. This support can be given in only one way — in the effort to extend its circulation. 11 the magazine’s success is dear to you, help it to obtain subscribers. Bring it to the attention of others, and more especially help to see that it appears on the reading table of every club, every library and every school in the country. ^ The purpose ot this page, however, is to chat about the articles that are to appear in July. But the space is nearly all used up, and to get more space the editorial blue pencil would have to be applied in a penitential manner — and who likes to have his copy cut? Besides the usual articles (and there will be several that will live up to the test of being interesting, inspiring or significant), Inter¬ national Studio will present two very timely subjects in July — Artists’ Week in Philadelphia, an epoch-making propaganda experiment, and the collection of German applied art at the Newark Museum, which will be fruitful of suggestion to our own industrial craft movement. And there is Guy Pene du Bois, who is to have a range at random on art in general and in particular. It would be hard to make Mr. du Bois admit that he takes anything seriously, but International Studio readers will be mentally stimulated by his airy profundities and the de¬ lightful way in which he rubs salt on raw cuticle. two sixty-two JUNE 1922 JUNE I922 International Studio Charles of London INTERIORS Old English Furniture TAPESTRIES TWO WEST FIFTY-SIXTH STREET : NEW YORK LONDON : 27-29 BROOK STREET, W. The ROSENBACH GALLERIES PAINTINGS by AMERICAN 6= FOREIGN MASTERS RARE BOOKS and MANUSCRIPTS PHILADELPHIA NEW YORK 1320 Walnut Street 273 Madison Avenue International Studio june 1922 KOUCHAKJI FRERES PERSIAN MINIATURES RAKKA FAIENCES GREEK and ROMAN ANTIQUITIES 707 FIFTH AVENUE: NEW YORK Frederick Keppel & Co. ETCHINGS by REMBRANDT WHISTLER M E R Y O N HADEN, ZORN AND OTHER MASTERS ON EXHIBITION IN OUR GALLERIES 4 East Thirty-Ninth Street, New York R. C. & N. M. VOSE Ehrich Galleries 707 Fifth Avenue, at Fifty-fifth Street ESTABLISHED IN 1841 NEW YORK High Class PAINTINGS PAINTINGS Early English by Old Masters and Modern American Masters American EXHIBITION of Barbizon MODERN DECORATIVE PAINTINGS Modern Dutch DURING JUNE ♦ BOSTON Mrs. Ehrich’s Gallery 707 Fifth Avenue, New York JEWELRY ANTIQUE FURNITURE 398 BOYLSTON STREET TEXTILES ITALIAN LINENS POTTERY DECORATIVE METAL June 1922 International Studio The above photograph shows the studio of August Franzen of New York City ' He shall pay a fine of 10 lirres parisis THAT was the penalty imposed by Article IV, in the charter of the Master Painters of Ghent, on those who did not use “good fresh color upon stone, canvas, panel with shutters or other materials.” Though the modern artist who violates that rule need not pay ‘To livres parisis” he is heavily penalised. nevertheless. His work will all too soon succumb to the ravages of time. Devoe Colors, because they are pure, and because they are made with the paint manufacturing skill and expern ence that extends back 168 years, assure the artist that the beauty he creates will be well preserved. DEVOE ARTISTS’ MATERIALS Manufactured by Devoe & Raynolds Co., Inc. New York Chicago International Studio June 1922 Napiers Ingres INGRES — a perfect paper for Char¬ coal Studies and the printing of etchings. C. & M. Ingres is a hand made paper, substantial in weight, with a surface that offers ready response — a surface that will add to and reflect the excellence of your work. C. & M. Ingres has been the standard of French artists for over a century. Its fame is such that I’EcoIe des Beaux Arts uses it exclusively. Yet C. & M. Ingres costs no more than ordinary kinds. C. & M. Ingres may be had in white and twelve exquisite colors, in sheets or in sketch bloc form. Write for sample sheet and unusual color samples. Canson & Montgolfier French Papers 461 EIGHTH AVE. NEW YORK Colours Mixed ‘with drains /T LIFE work, embodying years cf struggle and endeavor to reach the pinnacle of ambition — an effort to become famous; sentiment crystallized into a living thing on canvas; colours that must remain fixed as a monument — from inception to completion, do not labour in vain. WINSOR & NEWTON COLOURS are the solid rock foundation for Permanence and Brilliance JpOR nearly one hundred years, artists everywhere have demonstrated Winsor 6c Newton supremacy over all others — colours that have stood the test of time and criticism -colours that have been made and ‘‘mixed with brains.” Ask the artist of note and insist on having our colours from your dealer, or write for Art Catalog IN. 5 — it's Free. INC 31 East 1 7" Si NEW YORK, N.Y. THE traceries of Gothic architecture — the majesty of cathedrals — the shifting, changeful, dramatic streets of the world — all are recorded in the pencil drawing. The best pencil drawings of today are made with Dixon’s Eldorado. ELSoradO Correct Lighting of Valuable Paintings Correct illumination is as necessary to the valuable painting in the house as to those in the great galleries. Frink Reflectors are scientifically designed to fulfil this purpose. Each picture is treated according to its char¬ acteristic requirements. Frink Lighting is used in most of the prominent galleries, public and private. l/ie master thawing pencil’ JOSEPH DIXON CRUCIBLE COMPANY Pencil Dept. 1 19-J Jersey City, N. J. Full-length free samples on request I. P. FRINK, Inc. 24th Street and 10th Avenue, New York Send for Booklet 422 Branches in principal cities [ xii 1 June 192 2 International Studio ARTISTS’ COLORS MADE BY H. SCHMINCKE & CO. DUSSELDORF, GERMANY Famous for a century for quality and durability MUSSINI OIL COLORS HORADAM’S MOIST WATER COLORS TEMPERA COLORS DECORATIVE OIL COLORS ART STUDENT COLORS M. GRUMBACHER 164 Fifth Avenue New York City Sole wholesale distributor Jor United States and Canada If not available in your locality write me RETOUCHING COLORS AND AERO WHITE A FOR REPRODUC¬ TION Dr. Buettner’s PHOEBUS A&B FOR RESTORATION OF PAINTINGS SOFT PASTELS IN ASSORT¬ MENTS AND qOT ID COI ORS WESTON’S Tonal - Record (SPEERS PROCESS) WATERCOLOR PAPER ATMOSPHERE is an integral part of this paper. The outstanding fibers pick up the colors in varying shades, breaking the flat monotony of a regular surface, and imparting depth, richness and feeling. TONAL-RECORD Paper is the result of years of experimenting by an expert watercolor artist, and is now offered for the first time to the public. By its use the most original and striking effects can be obtained. TONAL-RECORD Paper will open up new possibil¬ ities to you in water color painting. Be one of the first to test its unique merits. Write for samples and prices of Weston’s Tonal-Record Watercolor Paper Manufactured by BYRON WESTON CO. DALTON, MASS. Established 1863 The World’s Most Famous Tencil rENUS PENCILS The largest selling Quality pencil in the ■world First in the estimation of artists because of the dependable smoothness, firmness and uniformity of the leads. 17 Black Degrees, 3 Copying For bold, heavy lines . 6B-5B-4B-3B For writing, sketching . 2B-B-HB-F-H For clean, fine lines 2H-3H-4H-5H-6H For delicate, thin lines . . 7H-8H-9H Plain Ends, per doz. . $1.00 Rubber Ends, per doz. . 1.20 At Stationers and Stores throughout the World American Lead Pencil Co. 214 Fifth Ave., New York also Lotidoii, E7ig. International Studio June 1922 " i(~jbeing mortal -- IT’S a pleasure to use Strathmore Artists’ Papers and Boards. You don’t have to fret and fume if, being mortal, you make a mistake. You can erase and sponge and scrub Strathmore and it won’t show. STRATHMORE ARTISTS' PAPERS aid BOARDS are made of pure white rags and nothing but. The surface is unmarred by nicks or bumps, mot¬ tles or hairs. Replenish your supply at your dealers, or write to us for samples of the various kinds. Look for the Strathmore thistle stamped in the corner of each sheer. STRATHMORE PAPER COMPANY Mittineague, Mass., U. S. A. Rembrandt Colo vs MADE IN HOLLAND Pure-Brilliant-Permanent TALENS 6c SON, Apeldoorn, Holland American Office, Irvington, N. J. r Temple of Concord — Girgenti, Sicily PICTURES - FOR - ART STUDY Over 3,000 subjects classified into nine different series covering periods from early Egyptian to modern American Art. Prints \ l/2 cents each. Complete catalogue 5 cents A new series on Mediaeval Sculpture in preparation Send for illustrated announcement free on request The UNIVERSITY PRINTS 5 BOYD STREET, NEWTON, MASS. oAnnouncement is made that beginning with this JUNE issue of International Studio the price per single copy becomes 75 Cents The subscription rate remains as heretofore $6.00 per year Arrangements have been made by which copies of Inter¬ national Studio should be on sale at all leading magazine stands. If difficulty is ex¬ perienced getting copies, it would be appreciated if the dealer’s name and address were forwarded us. We will arrange immediately to have copies sent to him. THE PUBLISHERS INTERNATIONAL STUDIO 1 xiv ] June 1922 International Studio CANV-O-BOARD A New Academy Board with a Pore Paint Surface that Feels, Looks and Works . . . » . LIKE CANVAS COSTS NO MORE than ordinary Academy Board NQT Canvas pasted on a board. NOT put under a roller and pressed. The texture '* moulded on with pure, unadulterated lead and *inc paint. SIZES UP tO 30 x 40. FOR SALE BY YOUR DEALER ~ Sole Distributors : Favor, Ruhl & Co. BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO MARTINI TEMPERA COLORS RICHTER MFG. CO. MANUFACTURERS AND IMPORTERS Decorative Burlaps, Draperies for Walls, etc. Superior grade of Artists’ Canvases in all widths up to 24 feet. I3i-t33 East 23d Street, New York Main Office and Works TENAFLY, N. J. Photo Gravure, Zinc and Copper Plates For Etching, Dry Point, Soft Ground, Aquatint and Mezzotint, Stipple and Line Engraving. Sizes in Stock 2K x 3K" 3x4" 4x5" 5 x 6" 5 x 7 " 6x7" 6x8" 7 x 10" 8 x 10 " 8x12" 10x12" Odd sizes made up on orders. Write us for prices, or telephone Beckman 3748 Star Engravers’SuppIyCo.,61 BeekmanSt., N. Y. SHAWPRINTS r A new series of original photographs for use in place of the living model by artists, students, etc. - ^ Mk Complete details for two cent stamp mm SPECIAL — Old customers will be pleased to know w that we have just received from England the new 1 Jjf edition of the HIEROGLYPHIC OR GREEK METHOD OF LIFE DRAWING. The first hundred orders will be filled at the old price. SHAW PUBLISHING COMPANY Jf DEPT. S-5 J 44 BOYLSTON STREET BOSTON, MASS. Olive Ann Alcorn ANNOUNCING. A NEW SERIES OF Alta Art Studies C)livt’,/$nn filconj f ACCLAIMED BY ARTISTS AS THE FULL- 'll 1 EST ATTAINMENT OF THE GRECIAN IDEAL M ACTION— STATUESQUE— STILL POSES BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOS— 8 x 10 inches from sharply focused, original plates on the best grade of double weight photo paper. PRICES, including shipment, 1 for Si. 00, 5 for $2.50, 10 for $4.50, 20 for $7-50. Miniature Samples sent for 25c., same to be applied on initial order. ALTA STUDIOS, Inc. in Golden Gate Ave. San Francisco J. BLOCKX OIL AND WATER COLORS The finest in the world and ARTISTS’ CANVAS, linen, 17 inches to 14 feet wide Write for Lists SCHNEIDER 6C COMPANY, Inc., 2102 Broadway, New York City SOLE AGENTS Thirteenth Season — Spring and Summer Sessions CLARENCE H. WHITE SCHOOL OF PHOTOGRAPHY CANAAN, CONNECTICUT May 15 to May 31 July 3 to August 25 Training for artists in photography For further information address Clarence H. White, 460 West 144th St., N. Y. PROVINCETOWN, MASS. Furnished House; 8 rooms and bath, shower; electricity; open fireplaces; newly furnished and decorated; bay view; studio; garage; orchard. Long or short terms. Reasonable. Address, Box 100, International Studio. Canadian, 27, clean-cut and refined, two years Fine Arts Yale University, desires position as companion to gentleman. Artist or sculptor preferred. All around man; could drive motor. Travel anywhere. Salary not important. Ex¬ cellent references. JACK RUD Care International Studio LIFE STUDIES FROM THE NUDE Beautiful sepia prints, size 7x9, on mountings 11 x 14. We publish over 250 subjects for use by art students, sculptors, architects, illustrators, designers and photographers. Twelve prints sent for S9.00. Six prints sent for S5.00. Three prints sent for S2.50. Single prints SI. 25. Sample sheet of miniature subjects sent for 25c In coin or stamps, to be credited on first order. CONSOLIDATED MFG. CO. .32 Union Square Dept. 606 New York City COMICS CARTOONS ( <>M MERCIA I, NEWSPAPER AND MAGAZINE ILLUSTRATING FASHION PASTEL AND CRAYON PORTRAITS BY MAIL OR LOCAL CLASSES. Write for par¬ ticulars of successful pupils. Associated Art Studios B 25 Flatiron Building, New York, N. Y. HARRY LE1TH-ROSS announces his usual class In Landscape Painting in the Catskills JUNE 1 TO SEPTEMBER 30 For particulars address HARRY LEITII-ROSS Woodstock, Ulster County, New York [ xv ] International Studio June 1922 t 1* A * A . C 1 1 REGULAR and Leading American Art ochools ♦ summer classes The Art Students’ League of New York Announcement of Summer Schools New York City Summer School in the Amer¬ ican Fine Arts Bldg., 215 West 57th St., opens June 5th and closes Sept. 1st. Instructors: Mr. George B. Bridgman, Mr. William von Schlegell, Mr. Frederic Dorr Steele, Mr. Duncan Smith. Classes daily except Saturday. The Woodstock Summer School of Painting under direction of Mr. Hayley Lever, June 1 5th to Oct. 1 st. In little village of Woodstock in the Catskills, with its wealth of artist material. Easily accessible to city. Twentieth year. For catalog and particulars address The Art Students* League of New York Box S - 215 West 57th St., New York BROADMOOR ACADEMY (The Rocky Mountain School ) Summer School — June 15 to September 15 LANDSCAPE AND FIGURE PAINTING Everett L. Warner, A.N.A. Robert Reid, N.A. Instructors INDUSTRIAL ARTS Wilfred H. Stedman Louise L. Strang Lloyd Moylan, Instructors Catalogue upon request COLORADO SPRINGS, COLORADO a* ST IOU1S SCHOOL ARTICLES THIS NUMBER George Fuller’s Pictures . William Howe Downes Color plate and eighteen illustrations The Witchery of Old Doorwws .... Mary Harrod Northend . 274 Nine illustrations From Boule to Louis Seize . Karl Freund . 280 Two color plates and seven illustrations Mielatz — American Etcher . G. W. Harris . 292 Eight illustrations Philadelphia’s Outdoor Sculpture Show . Three illustrations Emil Carlsen — Painter, Teacher . . . . F. Newlin Price .... Color plate and eight illustrations A Chapter of Ancient Chinese Art . . . Frank H. G. Keeble .... 309 Fourteen illustrations Principles of Modern German Art . . . Dr. Max Deri . 315 Four illustrations A Masterpiece of Embroidery . Gustavus A. Eisen . 318 Color plate Jean Marchand — Neo-Classicist .... Louise Gebhard Cann . . . 321 Seven illustrations The July Cover, by a Painter of Outdoors . 327 Text for cover in color The Lesson of German Applied Art . . F. E. Washburn Freund . . 328 Twelve illustrations “The Tragic Muse” Becomes America’s . 265 299 300 Illustration 335 America Prefers Inness to Corot . 336 Illustration Portrait of Miss Irene Dobson . Millie Bruhl Fredrick . 337 Color plate From Bricklayer to Sculptor . Grace E. Polk . 339 Seven illustrations Engert, Master of the Silhouette . 343 Five illustrations Three Pictures from Three Nations . 344 Three illustrations Art by the Way . Guy Pene du Bois . 345 Illustration The Vienna Hofburg Tapestries . 349 Six illustrations Art Week — Philadelphia’s Innovation . Margaret Montgomery . . 352 Four illustrations and five cartoons “Studio Talk” . 356 TO CONTRIBUTORS Articles are solicited by the editor on subjects that are interesting and significant in all branches of the fine and applied arts. No responsibility is assumed for the safe custody or return of manuscripts, but due care will be exercised. PUBLISHED MONTHLY BY INTERNATIONAL STUDIO, Inc. 786 SIXTH AVENUE - - - NEW YORK LONDON : 17 Old Burlington Street PARIS : 26 Rue Jacob President • PEYTON BOSWELL Treasurer • S • W • FRANKEL Secretary • C • A • BENSON International Studio JULY 1922 [ ii ] JULY 1922 International Studio if C D, © g©*33 TO&X sW(0)IryT^S> (5)F AT FRERES ETCHINGS by PERSIAN REMBRANDT MINIATURES - WHISTLER M E R Y O N RAKKA HADEN, ZORN FAIENCES AND OTHER MASTERS ON GREEK 1 EXHIBITION IN and DHM A M OUR GALLERIES K w ivl t\ IN <§> ANTIQUITIES 4 East Thirty-Ninth Street, New York - - - - 707 FIFTH AVENUE: NEW YORK [ vi ] JULY 9 2 2 International Studio ARTISTS’ COLORS MADE BY H. SCHMINCKE Qc CO. DUSSELDORF, GERMANY Famous for a century for quality and durability MUSSINI OIL COLORS HORADAM’S MOIST WATER COLORS TEMPERA COLORS DECORATIVE OIL COLORS ART STUDENT COLORS IliSSiNI OIL tOLM RETOUCHING COLORS AND AERO WHITE A FOR REPRODUC¬ TION Dr. Buettner’s PHOEBUS A&B FOR RESTORATION OF PAINTINGS SOFT PASTELS IN ASSORT¬ MENTS AND SOLID COLORS M. GRUMBACHER 164 Fifth Avenue New York City Sole wholesale distributor for United States and Canada If not available in your locality write me Water Color Paper For the artist who needs a beauti¬ ful and exceptional paper there is no better choice than Canson Aquarelle. It is a hand -made paper, white in color, and may be had in four weights. Four different sur¬ faces are offered — Torchon (extra rough). Rough, Cold Pressed and Hot Pressed. In price Canson Aquarelle is sur¬ prisingly low. If you have never used it ask your dealer for a sample or write us direct, giving your dealer’s name and we will gladly send samples and prices. Canson & Montgolfier Manufacturers of French Papers 461 Eighth Avenue New York THERE is but one master drawing pencil. Some day you will try it, and then, forever after, one name will come quickly to your mind when you think of the best pencil you have ever used. And that name is ELdoradO “the master drawing pencil JOSEPH DIXON CRUCIBLE COMPANY Pencil Dept. 1 19-J Jersey City, N. J. Full-lengtb free samples on request [ vii ] International Studio july 1922 DUVEEN BROTHERS PAINTINGS PORCELAINS TAPESTRIES O BJETS d’ART PARIS NEW YORK [ viii ] GATHERER. gum . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ini 11 itiin 11 1 1 1 n him i ti 1 11 ini 11 in n 1 11 1 1 1 1 1 it inn 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 11 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 11 1 1 11 1 1 u 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 n 1 11 11 1 1 11 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 n 1 1 1 1 1 iim 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 < 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 11 1 1 1 1 1 1 ' 1 1 11 n 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 n 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 mii 1 1 1 1 1 1 iih 1 1 1 mm . mi imminii imimmimiimi iiiimiiiimiimimmiimiimiiiii mi . iiimimii o CO Cu CO —■& CO rl k , • -O CD ( 1 o. £ 6 s •> eorge Fuller was exactly the kind of man you would expect to find him if you were acquainted with his pic¬ tures. His personality corre¬ sponded with the work that he produced. He was a rather old-fashioned sort of person, not at all bumptious, and perhaps a little distrustful of his own powers, yet fully convinced that his way of doing things was the right way, for him, and the only way. He had little or no facility, and worked over a canvas with a good deal of what looked like experimental groping after something that didn’t always come; but when he succeeded in getting what he was after it was unique and priceless. Just what it was is the harder to define in words because it was not altogether a material, physical, or superficial quality, but distinctly moral, spirit¬ ual and interior beauty — the kind ol beauty that somehow survives the chances and changes of time and fashion and taste, and partakes of an artistic eternity. Though so different, it belongs to the death¬ less class of works of art to which we assign the rare visions of Hans Memling of Bruges. Fuller Loyal to an ideal of beauty, his work has a mystical exaltation of a rare sort ‘ ‘ • by WILLIAM IIOWI; DOWNES SELF PORTRAIT BY GEORGE FULLER AT AGE OF 29 was in fact what our French friends are apt to call a “nature d’elite,” and, like all choice spirits, he was entirely natural, modest, gentle and genuine. That, it seems to me, is what you feel in his pictures — his character comes out in them. It is not that they are technically well made; in point of fact they are not remarkable in this respect; but one feels that they are the works of a man of ideas, of strong feeling, of imagination. He had, too, an ideal of beauty and it was not commonplace. To it he was un- _ swervingly loyal. Suc¬ cess and a measure of fame came to him in the closing years of his life, but prosperity did not spoil him. He had not been soured by adversity, but bore it with patience and with serenity. “The trouble with most of us,’’ he said one day, “is that we do not work hard enough; we do not spend enough time over a picture; we do not devote enough thought to it.” And at another time, as we stood looking at one of his ideal pictures, he said; “The picture itself is nothing but a few clots ol canvas. Is there any- Any idea, any thought, JULY 1922 two sixty -Jive mceRHAcionAL any expression of feel- nydia ^ . BY GEORGE FULLER ing? That IS tll6 (/n ihe Metropolitan Museum of Art) question.” This is, Copyright by Agnes G. Fuller in truth, the creed of the idealist, and Fuller was more frankly and naturally an idealist than any other painter of his time in America. What Hawthorne was to literature he was to painting — that is to sav, the interpreter of subtle phases of human nature, the romantic revealer of psycho¬ logical mysteries. The parallel, however, goes no farther. In style Hawthorne was limpid, finished, whereas Fuller found oil paints the most refrac¬ tory and recalcitrant of mediums, and “sweated blood” every time he worked on an important canvas. His method was extremely hesitating, and he could never be sure of his drawing. He had some singu¬ lar mannerisms, which, how¬ ever useful they may have proved in his own case, could not be wisely adopted by most painters. In spite of these iacts he managed to convey to his public messages of high import; and we may say of him what Northcote said of Sir Joshua Reynolds, that he was in some degree ignorant ol what might be called the grammatical part of the art, or scholarship of academic skill, but he made up for it by an eye for nature, or, rather, by a most sensitive feeling of harmony and beauty. The first important work to attract wide attention by Fuller was “Winifred Dvsart,” painted in 1 88 1, exhibited in Boston, and later at the National Academy. It was bought by Mrs. J. Mont¬ gomery Sears of Boston, her¬ self an artist, who subse¬ quently sold it to the Wor¬ cester Art Museum. “A dreamy picture, full of twi¬ light haze, out of which looks a sweet-facecl girl,” is the simple and excellent descrip¬ tion of it in the Academy Notes edited by Mr. Kurtz. In the opinion of many artists and critics, this still remains the best of Fuller’s works. Its charm is undeniably great. In 1882 Fuller exhibited three works at the Boston Art Club — a portrait of a young woman, an idealized figure called “Maidenhood,” and a study head. At the exhibition of the Society of American Artists he exhibited his “Priscilla Fauntleroy” and “Evening — Lorette.” The former represented the heroine of Hawthorne’s “Blithedale Romance,” standing in meditation near the edge of a wood. With one hand she had caught up her muslin skirt, while the other hand was raised to her face in a gesture of surprise and wonder, as if she heard those voices, audible only to herself, calling to her from out of the mysterious past. The creation of the artist was singularly identical in spirit with that of the novelist, two sixty-six july 1922 tnceRriAcionAL yet Fuller assured me that he had no thought of Pris- ... . . . . . (Metropolitan Museum oj Art.) cilia when he painted the picture, and indeed had not read the story. Mrs. Fuller happened to be reading it, and was struck by the resemblance between the personality on the canvas and the tremulous creature of Haw¬ thorne’s imagination. Voila comment on nomine les tableaux! “Nydia,” “Psyche,” and other ideal works appeared in 1883. Later came “Arethusa,” “Fedalma,” “And She Was a Witch.” After Fuller’s death, at Brookline, in 1884, there was a large memorial exhibition of his paintings at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, containing more than 170 works. The collection included the “Arethusa,” his last completed work, the “Winifred Dysart,” “Nydia,” the blind heroine of Bulwer’s Pompeiian romance, “Priscilla Faun- tleroy,” the “Romany Girl” (1879), ‘"The Quadroon” (1880), the “Fedalma,” out of George Eliot’s “Spanish Gypsy,” the “Evening — Lorette” (1882), the “Turkey Pasture in Kentucky” (1882), the “Psyche” (1882), “The Gatherer of Simples,” “And She Was a Witch,” “Hannah,” “The Puritan Boy,” “The Dandelion Girl,” “The Bird-Catcher,” “Maidenhood,” “Cupid,” “Driving Home the Calf,” “Near Messina,” with Copyright by Agnes G. Fuller • 1 1 i 1 many portraits, ideal heads and landscapes. Among the people who lent important pictures were Mrs. J. Montgomery Sears, Frederick L. Ames, J. T. Williams, S. D. Warren, Charles E. Lauriat, Joseph H. White, W. H. Abercrombie, William A. Tower, F. H. Lovell, Mrs. George Faulkner, Dr. Charles G. Weld, William F. Matchett, Miss Isabel M. Ames and Thomas B. Clarke. Sixty-three of the pictures in the exhibition belonged to the Fullei estate, and these were offered at an auction sale in Boston, on Alay 13, 1884. The catalogue, a pamphlet of forty-four pages, contained a biographical and critical sketch of the artist by Mrs. Van Rensselaer, a portrait of Fuller, and reproductions ol several of the paintings. The committee in charge of the exhibition was composed of Edward C. Cabot, A. V. S. Anthony, G. Spencer Fuller, Martin Brim¬ mer, Waldo Lligginson, W. B. Closson, Charles G. Loring, J. Foxcroft Cole, William F. Matchett, J. J. Enneking, Frederic P. Vinton, and C. C. Perkins. At the sale of the works belonging to the estate, the four most important pictures — “Arethusa,” “Nydia,” “Girl and Calf,” “And AND SHE WAS A WITCH BY GEORGE FULLER JULY 1922 two sixty-seven mceRHAcionAL OLD AGE BY GEORGE FULLER (St. Louis Museum) She Was a Witch” — were withdrawn, as were five lesser works, while the fifty-four canvases that were sold brought a total of $17,470, or an average of a little over $323 each. The “Gatherer of Simples” was bought by E. P. Kimball for $1,700. “Driving Home the Calf” was bought by Miss Key for $1,950. Other buyers were J. D. Ripley of New York, A. Bow- ditch, A. W. Dimock, Martin Brimmer, C. E. Lauriat, J. F. Sutton of New York, J. H. Mason, G. Higginson, W. H. Abercrombie, H. O. Houghton, F. L. Higginson, J. J. Ennek- ing, Dr. Wesselhoeft, Miss Boott, Miss Dix- well, and Mr. Wheel¬ wright. The more important of the paintings in the memorial exhibition have, following the usual way of such things, drifted from the private collections into “arethusa” BY GEORGE FULLER I Boston Museum) MAIDENHOOD BY GEORGE FULLER the public art museums of America. And of those which still remain in private hands, or in the possession of dealers, it is the manifest destiny to become eventually the property of public institutions. Fuller’s friends and admirers, not content with the memorial exhibition in Boston, pro¬ ceeded to create a liter¬ ary monument to his memory in the form of a George Fuller Mem¬ orial volume, contain¬ ing a biography by William D. Howells, a critical estimate by Francis D. Millet, a poem by Whittier, and personal reminiscences by Messrs. Stillman, Ball, Enneking, and Closson. Mr. Millet’s article had already been published in Harper’s Magazine, and Mr. Ball’s in a newspaper; the other papers were new. Mr. Howells’s biography was quite long, and contained numerous extracts from Fuller’s letters, which two sixty-eight july 1922 mceRnAcionAL romany girl were verv interesting, throw- BY GEORGE FULLER “ ° (In a Private Collection) lnS mUcH m°re ]lght UP°" h>S character than could be de¬ rived from any external source. It was virtually Fuller’s autobiography. It is evident that every¬ body who knew Fuller loved him, and Howells was no exception to the rule, as is proved by the eloquent sincerity of his closing passages, where¬ in he laments that he could not have seen more of him. Mr. Millet’s critical essay rises to the plane of a panegyric when he says that Fuller had attained a skill in ren¬ dering the finest quali¬ ties of expression in the human face “which has not been equalled in the history of art in this country.” He goes so far as to claim for Fuller the title of a colorist; he even calls him a draughtsman, who “preserved all the large lines of the forms, while sacrificing the minor details to the beauty of the whole.” In his winded dysart ' . . BY GEORGE FULLER studies of girlhood, Fuller, he , .. . says, “has fixed the loveliest ex¬ pression ol innocence and happiness that has ever been put on canvas,” he has created a type of beauty thoroughly natural in its character and individual in its style, which will live as a representative impression of the femi¬ nine beauty of the day. “Winifred Dysart,” in Mr. Millet’s judgment, will always remain, in the mind of every one who has felt the grace- ful charm ot her pres¬ ence, as a unique type of the loveliness oi maidenhood. “In the bewitching sweetness ol the face, in the girlish grace of the figure, and in the wonderful deli¬ cacy of the color, there are united such ele¬ ments of real beauty and such a wealth ol artistic expression, that the spectator is “gold and old lace” BY GEORGE FULLER (The Butler Art Institute Youngstown, Ohio) two sixty-nine JULY 1922 imreRnAcionAL OTUM© “head of a boy” BY GEORGE FULLER ( Metropolitan Museum oj Art ) THE QUADROON BY GEORGE FULLER ,f, , , f A sorbed and elevated, by ( Metropolitan Museum oj Art) 1 its contemplation.” After the “Winifred Dysart,” one of Fuller’s greatest masterpieces is the “Gatherer of Sim¬ ples,” an impressive twilight landscape with a figure, than which nothing could be more characteristic of Fuller’s style and sentiment. The mystery, the elusive quality ot the landscape, with its undefinable suggestiveness, and the peculiarly harmonious relationship that exists between the landscape and the bent, pathetic figure of the old woman, could only be conceived and given lorm by the genius of George Fuller. All of his personal feel¬ ing, his temperamental qualities, his imagina¬ tive power, are here manifested at their best. It may be said that the work is con¬ ceived in love; it is executed in reverence and sobriety; one might even say in a spirit of fedalma . . BY GEORGE FULLER solemnity. I his great _ ,, . , canvas is truly lyrical in its implications of the gathering shadows of the day that draws to its close and of the life that also approaches its term; and this peculiar vein ot lyricism has perhaps never been so beautifully wrought in pictorial art by any other American painter. The picture was re¬ cently purchased by Messrs. R. C. & N. M. Vose, of Boston, who have for many years specialized in Fuller’s works, and have bought and sold many of his linest things; and by them sold to a Chicago collector for a price that ranks among the high¬ est ever obtained lor an American picture. It will be recalled that the Voses sold “Fedalma” from one of their recent exhibitions; and it is of interest to know that it has since then changed hands at $40,000. They also sold “Old Age” to the City Art Museum of first attracted, then ab- two seventy july 1922 mceRnAcioriAL StTOtO St. Louis; “The Trial of the Salem Witches” to the Art Institute of Chicago; the “Girl Driving Turkeys” to the Worcester Art Museum, and “Gold and Old Lace” to the Butler Art Institute, Youngstown, Ohio. “Ideal Head” was sold in Pittsburgh by the Voses. It is not often" that a firm of picture dealers has the privilege of placing so many admirable examples of a great painter’s work in the public galleries of his country. The last work fin¬ ished by Fuller, and the only nude figure by him, is the “Arethusa,” in the permanent col¬ lection of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. The nymph reclines on the ground, her head to the left, leaning on her right arm; beside her is a spring, into which she is dipping her left hand. Behind her are large trees. Arethusa was the nereid who changed herself into a fountain in a vain effort to es¬ cape the importunities of her lover Alpheus, who forthwith became a river, as related in Shelley’s poem. The picture was a gift to the Museum of Fine Arts from a group of contribu¬ tors, in 1887. The museum also owns “The Dandelion Girl,” painted in 1877; it shows in a meadow a barefoot girl standing in profile, at the right, blowing the seeds from a dandelion in her left hand. In her other hand she holds a switch. A cow is grazing near her, at the right, and other cattle are seen farther away at the left background. This canvas was a gift from Dr. and Airs. George Faulk¬ ner, through the trus¬ tees of Faulkner Hos¬ pital, in 1911. The third Fuller possessed by the museum is a portrait of a boy, given by Edward W. Hooper, in 1885. The more we at¬ tempt to compare Ful¬ ler’s paintings with those of other American figure painters, not only those who were his con¬ temporaries, but also those of earlier and of later periods, the larger his figure looms. And it would be placing the emphasis upon the “cupid” BY GEORGE FULLER GIRL DRIVING TURKEYS BY GEORGE FULLER JULY 1922 two seventy-one mceRnACionAL “ HOEING TOBACCO” BY GEORGE FULLER wrong place to ascribe his superi¬ ority to his virtuosity as a crafts¬ man. The most that can honestly be said for him as a technician is that, through sheer will power and the intensity of his desire to express himself, he was, in perhaps a half- dozen of his chief figure pieces, able to accom¬ plish his purpose. But it would be beyond the justifiable limits of criticism to assume that he would have been a greater artist had he been more thoroughly trained and disciplined in the practice of his craft. That is some¬ thing one has no right even to guess at. There was never a painter, I suppose, more closely identified with his work than Fuller. He was the work, and the work was him, in a very exceptional de¬ gree. It is idle to find fault with a man who was so evidently born to do a thing in a given way. Perhaps it is but little more and little else than this to be what we call inspired. Fuller, with all his modesty, could never have been turned aside from his courseTy a single hand- breadth. If he is not unique, I know' of no American painter who is unique. Fuller’s biography does not serve to throw much light on the w'avs in which his life influ¬ enced the development of his artistic aims and ideas. That he should have wholly put aside his brushes and palette for some fifteen years, in the very midst of his professional career, in order to become a farmer, seems to have struck some of the art historians as having a great significance, but just what that signi¬ ficance was they do not THE TRIAL OF THE SALEM WITCHES BY GEORGE FULLER ( Copyright , Art Institute oj Chicago) live seventy-two JULY 1922 inceRnAcionAL explain very clearly. It would be easy to exaggerate the importance of this interregnum, which was, in all probability, not so much a matter of deliberate choice as of economic necessity. However this may be, it is a plausible theory that the fifteen years on the Deer¬ field farm gave time for cer¬ tain ideas to germinate and to take form, so that, when Fuller returned to Boston and established his studio in the Lawrence Building, he knew just what he wanted to do. One of the critics has compared Fuller to Whistler, which seems to me very far¬ fetched. Fuller’s method of expression has a much more obvious analogy with that of Carriere, and, in some of its phases, with that of Matthew Maris. But, in its final and finished manifesta¬ tions, it was unique, abso¬ lutely personal, and therein lies its value to us, for the ultimate interest ot a man’s work is what it reveals ot himself It would be an interesting point to settle whether Fuller’s art was peculiarly or exclusively American. Evidently it was far more so than Whistler’s, than Sargent’s, than Hunt’s; but perhaps less so than Wins¬ low Homer’s. In Fuller I de¬ tect an English strain of sen¬ timent, modified by his New England surroundings. I wonder if it is purely my own lancy that attributes to him a certain passion lor virtue, a certain moral en¬ thusiasm that finds a fairly exact parallel in English poetry and fiction? Certain it is that we cannot contem¬ plate his best pictures with¬ out realizing that behind them is a mystical exalta¬ tion of a very rare sort, a note of extraordinary good¬ ness, purity and tenderness. TWILIGHT BY GEORGE FULLER GEORGE FULLER I U L Y I y 2 2 two seventy-three mceRriAcionAL A Salem Doorway Few examples could excel this beautiful classic doorway at the Essex Institute in Salem, Massachusetts two seventy-four JULY 1922 mceRnACionAL omance and his¬ tory go hand in h a n d in the story of the doorway, a trib¬ ute to American architecture, and it is the unwritten narra¬ tive fraught with human interest that appeals. Long years ago when our country was in swaddling clothes, doors came into existence, during the log cabin episode, a period when our country was one vast wilderness and had only commenced to make history. There was a sub¬ tle charm in those one plank doorways, a quaint severity in their weather stained exterior, for did they not vividly depict the crude and vigorous char¬ acter of the early architec¬ ture in our country? Then, after a quarter of a century of frontier crudity, builders came over from England, bring¬ ing with them material for door ornamentation such as hinges, latches, and nail heads. They were filled with the tradition of Motherland, bringing into existence the cottage door, in reality a replica of Eng¬ lish motives. Medieval doors were also designed, the first ornamental doors in our country, and fa¬ miliarly known as batten doors. Two of these are known in Massachusetts, one on the Rebecca Nurse house at Danvers, Massa¬ chusetts, and the other on the Parson Capen house at Topsfield, Massachusetts. The nail heads on both formed patterns of squares and diamonds. Both these houses are connected with legendary lore, for in the one, during witch¬ craft days, dwelt a gentle old lady, Rebecca Nurse, who met with an untimely end and today lies buried in a knoll close by her own home and overlooking the old-fashioned garden that she so dearly loved, while in the Capen house a battle royal was fought between the Parson and the Devil, wrestling for the soul of his maid-servant. But the Parson won, for he said the Lord’s prayer backward quicker than his Satanic majesty could pick up a cupful of peas one by one that lay scat¬ tered over the floor, and today there is shown a hole in the old historic house through which the Devil is supposed to have disappeared. The Dutch Colonial door made its appearance about the same period; many of them are still in existence in Philadelphia. They developed from an unassuming entrance into a charming architectural feature in which Georgian motives of distinct archi¬ tectural individuality were shown. Then slender col¬ umns were added together with fan lights, side lights, and leaded tracery, yield¬ ing a fascinating freedom of detail, all the more when painted green and orna¬ mented with brass lock and knocker. The use of entablatures and pilasters led to the extension of the doorway, often forming a hood or porch. A notable example of this is still shown in the Stark Mansion, at Dun¬ barton, New Elampshire, built by the redoubtable major of Revolutionary fame in 1783. It is a fine illustration of the ef¬ fect of bevelled panelling, and the mossy flag stepping stones that There is inspiration today in the artistry of our early American wood-careers • • by MARY HARRQD NORIHEND PI - )C3 THE REBECCA NURSE DOORWAY', ONE OF THE FIRST ORNAMENTAL DOORWAYS IN AMERICA JULY 1922 two seventy -f ive mceRHACionAL HUM® lead to the house give a picturesque touch that is fascinating. This was the home of Elizabeth Stark, familiarly known by her husband’s pet name for her, Molly, and still occupied by one of his descendants. Under this portal have passed many a distinguished guest, including Robert Morris and General Lafayette. No period in architecture stands out more vividly than that which came into existence in the latter part ot the seventeenth and early eighteenth century, and while houses designed in the North show the Puritanical influence, the Southern builders conveyed through their breadth a feeling ot hospitality so characteristic in that section ot the country. Nowhere are these doors more impressive than those found at Salem, Massachusetts, represent¬ ing many of them the work of Samuel McIntyre, the woodcarver. Classic detail appears not only in architrave, pilaster, and pediment, but in over-door decoration, illustrating the best efforts of the Colonial architect who appreciated the fine possibilities ot wood detail, using it to ornament both frame and brick houses. It might be an explanation of this wonderful stride in architecture to realize that many books of this nature had been sent over from the Mother¬ land, and experienced workmen had come into our country. The architects, more especially those in seaport towns during the days of commercial pros¬ perity, called to their aid experienced woodcarvers, employed in the shipyards for the carving of figureheads, and it was their training as craftsmen in this art and skill in the use of tools that made it a comparatively easy matter to design masterly bits that took on the lightness and grace so char¬ acteristic of the architecture of that period. Ma ny of these show reeded ornamentation and Ionic or Corinthian columns, possibly more elabor¬ ate carving in the form of garlands and rosettes. Doors with bevelled panels came into use, differ¬ ing from those of early days in that they were molded and raised. The number of panels varied, for while six were generally shown in the earlier doors, in the later type of door four only were designed. One of the most notable ol these doorways is found at Portsmouth, New Hampshire, a part of the old Warner house, the first brick house erected in the town, the material being brought over seas. It is framed by Corinthian columns on which rests the elliptical architrave showing dentation. Over the brick pavement, laid herringbone fashion, and up the stone steps came many a dignitary, lifting the ponderous brass knocker so symbolic of wel¬ come, and one can but imagine that perhaps this A TYPICAL NEW ENGLAND “PINEAPPLE” DOORWAY THE VESTIBULE TYPE OF DOOR SEEN ON THE PIERCE-NICHOLS HOUSE, SALEM, MASS. two seventy-six july 1922 mceRriAcionAL sotm© very one was struck by Washington, Hancock, Dolly Madison, or Lafayette. Samuel McIntyre, the noted woodcarver, left many fine doorways, one of most exquisite design being shown on what was originally the Salem Assembly House, built in 1782. Here the vigorous carved grapevine that winds itself about the architrave is in direct contrast to much of his later work. It exhibits a restraint and refinement, far exceeding the later editions which surmount the porch. This has been the scene of many notable events, for under it passed Washington, to attend a ball given in his honor, and later Lafayette, too, was entertained sumptuously within its walls. Long ago there came into existence at Quincy, Massachusetts, a notable mansion known as the Coddington house, a gathering place for free thinkers, including Anne Hutchinson and Sir Harry Vane. It was through this door that John Hancock came to woo Dorothy Q., and great pre¬ parations were made for the wedding, not carried out on account of the breaking out of the Revolu¬ tion and the fleeing of the lovers to Lexington. Associations of the past gather ghost-like around the doorway, calling to mind the many missions it has been called upon to fulfill, for through it has passed the bride on her wedding day, and out of it has gone the christening party, while it is closed heavily at the bitter end of a quarrel, for does it not open and shut upon all who pass its portals with equal impartiality? One of the most interesting examples is found in the Pierce-Nichols house at Salem, Massa¬ chusetts, built in 1782 and showing a semi- elliptical fan-light surmounting the door. Over this the pedimented hood extends for two or three feet, being supported by pilasters and columns that show pleasing Doric capitals. Another of these interesting doorways stands farther up upon the same street, the entrance to the Cook-Oliver house, a most impressive bit of architecture that originally was designed for the famous Elias Haskett Derby mansion, the finest in all Salem town, built at a cost of eighty thousand dollars. During the time of the destruc¬ tion of this old mansion Captain Cook was build¬ ing a beautiful house on Federal Street and he chose for the door that of the Derby mansion showing columns with smooth shafts and high, square bases on either side the doorway, suggest¬ ing the Tuscan more than the Roman Doric. Perhapsthis combination of doorwayand entrance, more than any other in the city, demonstrates how closely they are tied together in architectural harmony, for chaste and beautiful in design, hand- THE OLD LYMAN DOORWAY, OF SALEM, WITH “flaming urn” gate posts A MCINTYRE DOORWAY ON THE ROGERS HOUSE AT DANVERS, MASS. JULY 1922 two seventy-seven mceRnAcionAL wmm® an old colonial Captajn Poynton pine- with wistaria apple doorway in Salem, Massachusetts, and is shown at the rear of the Lindens in Danvers, Massachusetts, General Gage’s headquarters during his residence in New England. The original, which is treasured in the Essex Institute, shows a pineapple with broken pediment, the pineapple being gilt and showing green leaves. The enclosed porch became popular at the end of the eighteenth century, serving the purpose of the modern day storm door. One of these is found on the Pierce-Nichols house, with little windows let into the sides. The triglyph of the treatment of the frieze and the fine dentil molding and fluted pilasters mark this as one of the best designed of the type. The circular porch came into vogue in the latter part of the eighteenth century. This type developed into the rectangular porch with semi-circular balcony projecting tooled in 1799, they are considered some of the finest examples in the city. Although the typical Colonial doorway was gen¬ erally painted white, occa¬ sionally mahogany was em¬ ployed. A very rare type is to be seen on the Andrew- Safford house in Salem. It was recently found in the cellar behind some old boards where it had been hidden for over a century. This combines the square and elliptical motive show¬ ing perfect proportions and exquisite workmanship in the fluted Corinthian col¬ umns and entablature show¬ ing delicate moldings. One of the most interest¬ ing of all these doorways is herewith reproduced from A CHARACTERISTIC SALEM DOORWAY WITH FINIAL URN GATE POSTS two seventy-eight july 1922 inceRnAcionAL beyond it. The increasing delicacy of doorway design is accounted for through the workmen becoming more experienced. When the ship carpenters were em¬ ployed for lighter work they were able to execute prop¬ erly the intricate designs of the carving. When we look, today, at the diversity of styles employed by architects, and especially at the examples of poor and debased design which followed shortly after the decline of the great “early American” ascen¬ dency which was typified by Salem, we are filled with spontaneous admiration. To a great extent this is merited, while in another, and generally unthought-of direction, it must be re¬ membered that our earlier architectural designers, in common with the designers of far older countries where pure styles have developed and flourished, were happily free from the many dis¬ tractions and cross-currents which have THE STATELY Georgian colonial when t;ie detail . . . DOORWAY OF THE ANDREW-SAFFORD HOUSE beset designers since the general dissemina¬ tion of books and photographs. We can never know whether or not the builders of Salem would have chosen the general style in which they worked if they had been confronted with the bewildering diversity ol styles which are now a part of every architect’s education. In the days of McIntyre, and earlier, there were but few architectural books extant or available, and those which served as the basis ot inspiration for virtually all “Colonial” architecture were books portraying in scale and detail plates, no forms other than those of the Classic Georgian, and the somewhat later “Classic Revival,” which has also been called the “American Empire,” because of its derivation from the Empire manner of France, during and after 1812, when the difference of opinion with England on the sea caused a tem¬ porary estrangement from the mother country. Classic traditions, however, held their own fairly well until after the Civil War, and most ante bellum mansions possess at least a certain degree of dignity in general plan and mass, even shows the ap¬ proach of the architectural depravity which char¬ acterized the late ’70’s and the whole decade of the ’8o’s. During the latter dark period, two main influences were at work. The first was an impulse of bourgeois vulgarity and desire for ostentation which turned to a peculiarly inartistic French type of mansard-roofed house, unattrac¬ tive in mass and meretricious in detail. The second influence was one of misguided estheticism, under which the architects who had read Ruskin’s unqualified praise of the Gothic style believed this style, executed in scroll-sawed wood, to be a suitable, and even a beautiful solution for the style ot the private dwelling. We turn to old doors, as we do to old books, seeking tor information, and realizing that in every period there are lessons to be learned which can be reproduced in our present day homes. Who has not felt a thrill of delight as he viewed one of these old Colonial entrances, especially if designed by Samuel McIntyre, Salem’s noted woodcarver? july 1922 two seventy -nine mceRnAtionAL SOTOB© A MARQUETERIE COMMODE OF ROSEWOOD AND AMARANTHE, DESIGNED IN THE LATE “STYLE POMPADOUR” FROM B0L1LE fo LOUIS SEIZE n a shop o( the Quartier Saint Germain were an American lady and a youthful Abbe from the Loire. Says the Abbe: “For the last two months I have peered through this window every afternoon, waiting to see the rays of the sun strike the commode you see against the far wall. It was a Fata Morgana.” The American lady inquired: “Is there any¬ thing wrong with the commode?” and the Abbe looked greatly agitated, his eyes grew colder, and as pronouncing anathema, he said : “ The commode is Dutch.'’ And observing the obvious discomfort of the American lady, whose Dutch ancestry had until now embodied in her and her lriends’ eyes all elements of genuine civilization, he quickly added : “I had hoped the commode was French by Riesener. You ask why it might not be a French creation, and I might easily explain to you the elements of architecture, construction, marquet- erie, and enrichments which put its birthplace far north of the Seine, but apart from the methods of ebemsterie, it com¬ pletely lacks what I would call the ‘geste fran^ais,’ that irre¬ sistible animation characteris¬ tic ol French people and their expressions. It lacks ‘facilite’ — ease — , the talent of achieving the difficult without the aching sound ol labor, the talent which opened to Pere Mar¬ quette the hearts of the Indians, closed to mighty buccaneers and conquistadores, the quality that makes French women of the soil grind without death to their emotions. It touches with light graceful hands the great problems of life; it makes romance out of science; one need but read French translations of Kant, Marx, Carlisle, or Henry James. It is this spirit that has absorbed elements of value of all nations, acclimatized them, and when they were ponderous, lightened them to taste. “And compare our French-born ‘armoires a deux corps*’ to their parents, the mournful * Made in two parts, to be easily transported, as the nobleman's furniture followed bis body Evolution in furniture design seen m the works of famous French cabi¬ netmakers ■ • • by KARL FREUND □ CZ-JI - - - - ' - • ' - - - ~3C=I two eighty july 1922 BUREAU X CYLINDRE’DESK — made btj This desk is covered with a great variety of figured veneers of hois d’ amaranth e, bois de violette, rose, coral, lemon and maple ivoods. On a kneehole table of Jour chamfered cabriole supports, enriched with mounts by hlartincourt and lions’ claw sabots; the front furnished with panels of flower urns and a landscape, with architecture and figures laid in tinted and scorched exotic woods; the returns in marqueterie, simulating wainscot; the cylindrical flap with a circular voluted cartouche, occupied by emblems. This is headed by a meandered incurved cornice, furnished with drawers, and topped by a Bleu Turquin d’ltalie marble top; guarded by a pierced rail. !Ru tesener The desk is shown closed in the color illustration; open in the sketch "VERNIS MARTIN' DESK ~ with mounts by Caff'ieri Tbis desk is enriched with chinoisieres, macaws and scroll motifs in gold, and fur¬ nished with bronze “cantonni'eres,” of which two are crested by beads in high relief. The lower part is gondoled, and fitted with a hinged flap , uncovering a commode painted with a double handled urn in gold and floral sprays in naturalistic colors on an emerald green ground. The interior of the desk is architecturally composed with small drawers and compart¬ ments, enhanced by flowered trellises in gold; the top is covered with a slab of jaune fieuri marble. The desk is shown open in the color illustration; closed in the sketch mreRriACionAL Flemish and German cupboards. To be sure the great ages of French cabineterie, from Catherine to the guillotine, abound with strangely sounding foreign names, but names now familiar to all lovers of true French art. “We hear of Hans Kraus, ‘Marqueteur clu Roy,’ in 1576, a Saxon by birth; Laurent Staber, arriving from Holland in 1608, and gaining fame at the Galleries du Louvre, and, thirty years later, Van Opstal, Ostermayer, Equeman, cabinet makers to the king. “They had brought their native craft of veneer, tortoise, ivory and copper, and marquet- erie-mosaics of exotic and costly woods, shipped to the shores of Holland from newly discovered fairy lands. The ‘stippi’ a Fltalienne, laden with jewels, the tables a 1’EspagnoIe, the heavily carved armoires, the Flemish cabinets, the chairs a la Genoise, dis¬ appeared, together with the memories of Catherine and civil strife. Amateurs rivalled king and court in adopting these gaily cheeked children of the North, to teach them French man¬ ners and mannerisms. And not long after, when Jean Mace, of Buds, re¬ turns from Flanders with new secrets of marquet- erie, and is installed at the Louvre, in 1647, ‘placage’ (veneer) of tor¬ toise, ebony and figured woods, the enrichments of copper, pewter and ivory are translated by French ingenuity, so that twenty years before the advent of the great Charles Andre Boule we find this description in the inventory of Cardinal de Mazarin (1653): ‘A cabinet of tortoise shell and ebony, faced with gilded copper on the sides, carried by four monsters of copper, silver-gilt; the four corners furnished with ‘cantonnieres’ of copper, silver-gilt, pierced a jour, enriched with leaves, masks, cartouches, and animals in bas-relief, representing divers fables from Ovid’s ‘Metamorphoses’; countersunk in cornices of tortoise shell.’ “It reads like a pronunciamento of the king¬ dom of French cabineterie, which from now on, through all its vagaries, flamboyantly exuberant, or stoically severe, reflects the national emotions. The foreign accents can now be detected in the materials only; designs and inspirations are French, or to establish the term, ‘Parisian.’ “Charles Andre Boule is installed at the Louvre. His studios comprise twenty-six work¬ shops; two occupied by the joiners, eighteen by the cabinet makers, and six by bronze workers, engravers and ‘mounters.’ Boule’ s miraculous success is due to his magic skill in expressing luxury and wealth with a delicacy and grace previously un¬ known. The mounts and friezes, alive with plastic expression, seem to grow from their bodies, so perfect in outline, and of contour easy to embrace by the eye. “The mood of the nation under Louis Quartorze was magnifi¬ cence, just as roman¬ ticism filled the souls in the middle ages, and to express magnificence and lavishness in good taste, to display riches without flaunting, was the pur¬ pose of architectural and interior adornment. “While Boule flour¬ ished at the Louvre, two Italian designers, Philippe Caffieri and Domenico Cucci, at the Gobelins, gave the best of their brilliant native ability to the advancement of the ‘Grand Style.’ The well-tempered harmonies of Berain’s cartoons, and the boldness of Charles Lebrun’s imageries, are the fertile ground which nourished the flowers of French artisanry. One can trace their influence in forms and enrichments alike, be it the work of Boule, or the plans of the Italians, Cucci and Caffieri, and the Lowlanders, Jaques Zomer, Golle, and Alexandre Jean Oppenord, immortalized in the interiors of Versailles. “Their creations were acquired by king, court and financiers alike, who paid generous sums, and showed their appreciation in many gracious ways. Did not Roi Soleil himself write with his own hand july 1922 tivo eighty-jive inceRnAcionAL SIUBIQ the word ‘Bon’ on the margin of the Due d’Antin’s report? ‘The second bureau of Boule,’ he writes, ‘is as beautiful as the other, and it suits the room (at the Trianon) to per¬ fection.’ And does it not beguile the art lover to read in the letter of Madame, the Duchesse d’Orleans, mother of the Regent: “ ‘The present my daughter has received from the Duchesse de Berry is gallant indeed. She has given her a commode. A commode is a large table with large drawers — with beautiful orna¬ ments.’ Brief — but descriptive. “A commode — a treasured gift to a royal princess! And does one not feel regretfully the change in the methods of extravagance, when listening to the tale of Paget and Monerot, the two financiers, and their generosity toward the celebrated Mme. de Brancas: Des presents jaits de bonne grace, Les avoient dans leur passion Tous deux de V emulation Si I’un envoyoit une table D’une Jabrique inimitable L’autre renvoyoit des le soir Un parfaitement beau nuroir.’ “The importance of furniture in the life of the MARQUETERIE COMMODE OF BOIS DE VIOLETTE WITH ROCAILLE MOUNTS IN EARLY “STYLE POMPADOUR,” BY I. P. LATZ nation can be measured by the volume of space accorded to it in inventories, and by the economic value it receives in dowries and bequests. Objects of such high estimation fol¬ lowed their owners to foreign countries, and it was due to Louise de Keroualle and the Duchesse de Mazarin that large orders for fine French ‘ebenisterie’ were given by the English court of Charles the Second. Thus the Merry Monarch and his successors, aided by the genius of Daniel Marot, aroused the native talents — teachers and forerunners of the great Georgian designers and artisans. “ Pere Boule, the most gifted and coveted of all those who devoted their lives to instilling the fragrant spirit of luxury into Frenchmen’s houses, lived and died a poor man. His life was fraught with financial and legal entanglements which culminated in the disastrous fire of the Boule studios, in April, 1720. Countless pieces of furni¬ ture and marqueterie, three hundred thousand books, and as many cartoons and drawings, the result of the long-lived collector’s extravagance, are said to have perished. This conflagration appeared, to some of the contemporary observers, as a dramatic funeral of the ‘Grand Style.’ Already two eighty -six July 1922 inceRnACionAL copper and pewter embedded in tortoise shell had given way to rosewood, violet and amaranthe, patterned and shaded with the knowledge of the flower painter. The ebony, now ebonized pear- wood, had been relegated to enrichments, and the upright majesty of form was sacrificed to the changing mood of the nation. A voluptuous undulating grace conquered artisans and patrons, and formed the ‘style a la Regence.’ “The craving for new outlines again received nourishment from Holland. For years the kettle-shaped bodies of armoires and com¬ modes from the Nether¬ lands had gained consider¬ able success in England under Dutch William and Queen Anne, and estab¬ lished a native school of sturdy dignity, lightened by the use of a sparkling figured walnut veneer. And it is highly illuminating to ob¬ serve the plant rising on French soil from the very same seed. “Conscious of these sources of inspiration, one can follow a caressing hand, which, withthevolatilegrace of the glassblower, reshapes the traditional lines, convexing, con¬ caving, lifting the earth-bound bodies of commodes and bureaux from the ground, with variegated hooped arch openings, which also appear as outlines of pediments and crestings; moulding aprons and supports, with ‘baguettes’ of ormolu, or sometimes cloaking the sumptuous forms with bold mounts of acanthus. “Charles Andre Boule was too old to think in the new terms; he lacked what they called the ‘eoquetterie’ of the new epoch, w hen they danced the gavotte, and not the stately Sarabande of his youth. ‘Boulework a la Regence’ is probably not by the master. However, the great quantity of marqueterie flowers recorded in his sale in 1732 indicates that he was in sympathy with the form of decoration which was to give such incompar¬ able charm to the ‘Style a la Pompadour,’ the reaction subsequent to the ‘Regence’ and its exuberant evolution, the ‘Rocaille.’ “The vocabulary of the ‘Regence’ is a veri¬ table feast of the onomatopoetic gourmet; ‘gon- doler,’ ‘rebondir,’ ‘ chantourner,’ ‘ contourner,’ ‘boursoufler,’ ‘tarabiscoter’ are but a few of the luscious interpretations of curved, shaped, and moulded profiles. To be in perfect taste a ‘meuble’ had to be ‘contourne de sous sens’ — without a straight line. “The great ‘Styliste a la Regence’ was Charles Cressent (1685-1768), a disciple of Boule, who, for a considerable time, almost despotically, con¬ trolled the taste of the ruler and the ever-growing public of amateurs. Cressent’s principles of con¬ struction, the true placement of ornament, the correct¬ ness of proportion, betray his familiarity with the work of Germain Boffrand, the master decorator of the Hotel de Soubise, who en¬ joyed the reputation of hav¬ ing a ‘perfectly masculine taste,’ in an atmosphere ringing with the voices of Montespan and Maintenon, andata time when a woman’s whim could twist the plans of kings, not to speak of the outlines of tables, bureaux and commodes. “All of Cressent’s work is of a manly elegance, sterner in the treatment of his cabinets and medaillers, showing the gentle curves and mounts of the most dis¬ creet motion, and full of forceful fan¬ tasy in his tables, commodes, armoires, and cartels, rounded with the sculp¬ tor’s decision of outline. It inspires a fluid grace of good breeding, which finds its equal only in the adroit choice and the originality of his bronze mounts, embracing every conceivable mood from Watteauesque groups ot Amours, emblematic attributes representing Arts and Sciences, to the appliques on the two Singerie cabinets in the spirit ot Huet. The curves and mouldings of Cressent, Dubois, La Thuile, the early creations by Gilles Petit, and Jacques Caffieri, typical of the ‘Style a la Regence,’ have remained a fountain of repose to eyes fatigued by the sight of office fur¬ niture, angular streets and awkward men’s attire, and the ‘Rocaille’ at first would seem an un¬ necessary distortion of a satisfying system ol forms. But think of the effect of Debussy and Cesar Franck upon the ears filled with the melo¬ dious airs of Meyerbeer, Gounod and Massenet, and too much of sweet harmony — Cubism and Gauguinism on the eye blinded by Pleinairism and too much of the sun — thus the ‘Rocaille’ to july 1922 two eighty-seven tnceRnAcionAL :tou© the existing ‘Style Regence.’ “With the last straight line, intolerable, and considered funereal, erased from the designer’s sketchbook and industrial designers vying in borrowing new twists from the serpent’s seductive curves, we soon notice symptoms of impatience, a desire to dis¬ guise the rounded form, which, though well- mannered, assumes a placid air of the sweet com¬ monplace. Why not distinguish one curve from another, by juggling with their outlines, starting at the expected point, but turning suddenly to the opposite goal, seemingly at hazard, still arriving in an unforeseen balance and harmony? “The fertile imagination of Juste Aurele Meissonier (1693-1750) is credited with having exhausted the accidents or freaks of nature for his seemingly chaotic effects of ornamentation. This artist, Pineau, Jules Oppenord, La Joue and others, starting with the rock and shell, a familiar sight in French garden grottos under Louis Quartorze, and then entering botany, by adopting the palm tree, and converting into ornament the celery and other vegetables, interlacing, twisting, and voluting all these elements beyond recogni¬ tion, succeeded in multiplying the monotonous curve, appearing and disappearing under capricious vegetation. “The effect of these eccen¬ tric experiments with the laws of symmetry was very grati¬ fying. And though the purists of the time, led by Charles Nicholas Cochin, and those of today execrate the innovation, and assure us of the eternal harm done by these ‘bad inventors of ornament,’ we contend that it unbridled French ingenuity, we feel that Rabelais might have wel¬ comed the Rocaiile (or Rococo) as an outburst of ‘Parisianism,’ with its Socratic humor, as the foundation of all arts. It must have been a heaven for the designer, hunting amongst nature’s hitherto neglected phenomena; and to this hunt we owe one of the most ingratiating vogues of the Eighteenth Century, the French-Chinese. “The wares of the celestial Empire, while of great rarity in earlier days, had become quite within the reach of the amateur, if we believe Scarron’s report of the Saint Germain fair: “ Menez moi cbez les Portugais, Nous y verrons a peu de frais Des marchandises de la Chine, Nous y perrons de I'ambre gris De beaux ouprages de verms Et de la porcelaine fine De cette contree divine Ou plutht de ce paradis.” COMMODE OF CORALWOOD, BY CLAUDE- CHARLE SAUNIER IN THE “STYLE A LA GRECQUE OF THE LOUIS SEIZE PERIOD two eighty-eight JULY 1922 mceRnAcionAL SOTM© “Mazarin was an ardent admirer of things Ch inese, and among the humble collectors we hear of Moliere owning some Chinese cabinets and chairs; Daniel Marot proposing over¬ mantels, composed of consoles bearing Chinese vases; and when the Grand Monarch in 1700 gave a ball and entertainment at Marly, entitled ‘The King of China,’ which required Chinese musicians and Chinese decors, the rest of France willingly succu mbed to the fascination from the Far East. In vain the edict of 1709, forbidding the pur¬ chase, sale or ownership of wares from Asia, attempted to stop the deep impression its daring artistic principles had made on the French mind, and in spite of renewed prohi¬ bition, ‘pagodes, lacs, porcelaines, tissues, papiers, bureaux, encoig- nures de la Chine et du Japon,’ and a vast quantity of more or less success¬ ful imitations were openly sold by highly reputable merchants. “The ‘ Rocaillistes’ found a fertile field in the freehand ir¬ regularity of Chinese drawing, in the audacity of their composi¬ tion of planes, and in the inex¬ haustible variety of motifs — pagodas, trellises, mountains, clouds, animals, and figures in strange flowing garments, and ■wearing grotesque pointed head-dresses — which they acclimatized and developed into a taste of an exquisite roguish grace. While Watteau delights at La Muette, Huet at Chantilly, Boucher at Bellevue, with their gallant chinoiseries, the coaches of nobles, and chaises a porteur (sedan chairs), bureaux and commodes are covered with gold-green ‘vernis,’ in the Chinese taste, by the brothers Martin, thus creating ‘Vernis Martin.’ “That the Rocaille had a disastrous effect on the taste of foreign countries has been often asserted. Of all the purchasers of French decora¬ tions and ‘ebenisterie,’ Spain had chosen the most flamboyant and least suitable to her national character. Patriarchal Schoenbrunn and parvenu Potsdam selected wisely, as they improved upon their heirlooms; the scenic effects of Italy’s ‘Rocaille,’ the ‘gout Jesuite,’ glow against the sky of Naples, and with the exception ol Chippendale’s heavy-footed excursion into Chinese ornament, England escaped unscathed. “With the end of the ‘Regence’ and with the ascen¬ dancy of a king in his ’teens and the general feeling of pov¬ erty, following John Law’s fi¬ nancial mach¬ inations, a wave of sobri¬ ety had come over France. It made itself felt in ‘ebenisterie’ by a greater modesty in the application of bronze mounts, in favor of marqueterie. The foliated scrolls and cartouches of ormolu found themselves replaced by broad bands of rosewood and thuyawood interspersed with formal enrichments of more som¬ bre tones — frames of delicate floral reserves laid in rare veneers, which had become more accessible and less costly. The mounts though decidedly ‘Rocaille’ showed great restraint of movement, and were sparingly used to throw light on the dark bodies covered with violctte- and amaranthe. The self-asserting boldness of curve had given way to a silhouette of pro¬ nounced attenuation, the crest of the undulation now occurring in the upper half of the bodies, thus freeing and lightening the supports. “Most instructive examples of the early ‘Style Louis Quinze’ were produced by I. P. Latz. His work seems equal in craftsmanship to that of CABINET WITH INSERTS OF JAPANESE LACQUER IN THE “ STYLE A LA REINE,” BY MARTIN CARLIN JULY 1922 two eighty- nine mceRnACionAL SIM© Cramer, Duperon, and Dautriche, all masters of this transition, and points clearly to the taste of Jean Francois Oeben, who marks the end of this transition, and the beginning of the luxurious and graceful ‘Style Pompadour.’ “The appearance at Versailles of the Marquise de Pompadour in 1745 starts the halcyon days of French decoration. The woman who — to follow Voltaire — united ‘all arts, all tastes, and all talents to please,’ was destined to be the god¬ mother of all those industries which represent French taste to the outside world. “Fler intimate contact with all art endeavor, her faculty of refining her surroundings, the knowing certainty of her imagination, inspired her Par¬ nassians. Her abhorrence of the trivial in life and art made her enthuse over the new wonders of classicism unearthed by Winckelmann’s redis¬ covery of Pompeii and Herculaneum. And unable herself to be among the fortunate ones to visit the sacred remains, she dispatched her brother, M onsieur de Marigny with a host of architects, designers, and learned men, to bring back to her the fresh impressions on their French souls of what they had witnessed. And from her mouth came the password of the return to classic ideals — ‘a la Grecque,’ they called it at the Palais Royal, and ‘a la Grecque’ was the fashion of good taste and follies, but to the Marquise it meant simplicity without injury to airborn French genius and innate creative power. “The porcelains of Sevres, the tapestries of Beauvais, and the silks of Lyons, the bronzes and jewels, and last, but not least, the works of ‘ebenisterie’ of her time seem released by her magic white hand. We are impressed by her technical accomplishments and by her thorough¬ ness when we read that she purchased the wood for the furniture at Bellevue ‘by the tree,’ and that she selected the lumber for Jean Francois Oeben to be cut into veneer ‘for seven borders of amar- anthe inlaid with flowers.’ “The immediate effect of ‘Neo-Classicism’ was a subtle straightening of the outline, with the result ot a more intimate charm. A secretaire of this style, a abattant, suggests Pompadour with its gentle curves, its acanthus mounts, correctly supporting the marble slab, its engaging mar- queterie pictures of Chinese personages posing ‘a la Grecque,’ and its interior enriched with softly colored ‘treilages fleuretes.’ “We are tempted to call Pompadour the first decorator of interiors in the modern sense of the word. Capable of establishing an atmosphere of personal relation to the objects of her surround¬ ings, she invented the comfort of the foyer. The bergere, the bonheur du jour — what an enticing name! — the cabaret, the trictrac, and the unend¬ ing variety ot useful secretaires, gueridons, gaming and work tables were thought of under the reign of the uncrowned queen. A monument to her zeal, to foster skill and faultless workmanship was erected by Jean Francois Oeben and Jean Henry Riesener in the form of the justly famous desk of all desks, the ‘Bureau du Roi’ (now at the Musee du Louvre). Though the bureau bears only Rie- sener’s signature of the date 1769, the fact that Oeben, Riesener’s master, had received this royal commission in 1760, four years before the death of the Marquise, excludes the doubt that all preliminary drawings, miniature and full size models, samples of the grain, quality and color of woods, and patterns of marqueterie had been submitted to her final judgment. The endowment of this comparatively small object with the results of every conceivable artistic aim, the perfection of architecture, the successful marriage between gilded bronze mounts of restrained magnificence and mosaics of softly colored marqueterie, composed of tranquil em¬ blems, suggest her versatile presence. “The ‘Bureau du Roi’ was a bureau a cylindre, named from its cylindrical flap, which would shut on a newly discovered device and conceal with one quick effort all the secrets strewn loosely on the morocco pad. It was a costly bit of joinery, requiring thoroughly dried woods and veneers, and an intricate knowledge of cabinet making. However, in spite of the costliness, it found amateurs galore, and Riesener’s name appears on a number of writing desks of importance modelled on the same lines. “The ‘Bureau du Roi’ proclaims the return of the straight line, as a subservient still to the sovereign curve, but particularly in the treatment of the gallery in the definite form of the ‘Style Louis Seize.’ This style in its incipient stage shows an imaginative quality which was lost in the coming days of hysteria and outward show; the sense of fitness of the Grande Dame was still in the air telling the designers that Paris and Athens could be friendly cousins, but not brother and sister. Our eyes repose on the chamfered cabriole, the blocked front, the unadulterated Greek mounts, and the increasing delight in beautiful marqueterie, rivalling in inventiveness the foam¬ ing fantastic ‘Rocaille.’ “The vivacious Dauphine, at her arrival in France, found herself in an atmosphere of tasteful cultivation, naturally somewhat ‘precieuse,’ and curiously contrasting with the stately ‘bon- homme’ of Vienna under Maria Theresa. She two ninety july 1922 mceRnACionAL eagerly sought to adjust her youthful eyes to the newly evolved forms and to find her own predilection. Until the advent of Roentgen, Beneman and Schwerdfeger, her contribution to the advancement of style — straightened to the point of Spartan severity — was her light hearted¬ ness, her feminine grace which found supreme pleasure in Martin Carlin’s detached balusters and his poetic inserts of Japanese lacquer. And she must have thanked Pompadour for the gay placques of Sevres porcelain, — gentle smiles in stern profiles. “Riesener, Leleu, Roussel, and Claude Charles Saunier have regaled us with many fine examples of this worldly puritanism. “The appearance of mahogany, imported in large quantities from the French West Indies, caused an unexpected revolution in the work¬ shops of Paris. Its comparative cheapness and its greater solidity suited the chronic financial de¬ pression, while its sombre tone appealed to the pseudo-stoicism then assumed in some Paris salons, but these square cases, sparsely moulded, and clad in large leaves of dark veneers (mahogany, rosewood, palisandre, or platane), aroused no enthusiasm, and soon generous bronze mounts appear, willing to contribute a semblance of cheeriness; the treasury of the Parthenon was being ransacked, bronze became the primary element, with the wood¬ work a mere setting, at first achieving admirable results of virginal classicism, as on the Rutland commode, by Adam Weisweiler, with its solemn presentation of Clodion medallions, beautifully chased by Thomire, or in Cosson’s familiar mounts, simulating geometrical marqueterie; but ultimately degenerating in a mood of idle pretense of the most gigantic proportions. It would be lolly to place blame with Roentgen’s, Beneman’s, Schwerdfeger’s, Desmalter’s, commercialism. They only danced to the piper — a gentry, con¬ scious of being glared at by the awakening prole¬ tariat, frantically protesting its privilege, and boasting of its art treasures.” “And what happened then, and what about modern art?” asked the American lady. Said the Abbe, “1 am living in the past, but, from distant observation, I should say that the French ‘ facilite’ has fled from decoration toother pursuits, and will return when we grow away Irom the modern restrictions that are obscuring art for the eclats of the moment.” “THE RUTLAND COMMODE” IN LATE “STYLE LOUIS SEIZE,” BY WEISWEILER, WITH MOUNTS BY' THOMIRE FROM MODELS BY CLODION JULY 1922 two ninety -one tnreRnAtionAL §m©a© “Old Mill-Block Island " From a dry point, by C. F. W. MIELATZ two ninety-two JULY >92 inteRHA'CionAL MIELATZ? American Etcher Power and charm are combined with exceptional vitality in the plates of this great craftsman • • by □ G.W. HARRIS _ □ purred on by a great love of his art and an indefatigable industry in its service for thirty-five years, Charles F. W. Mielatz was one of the most prolific etchers thus far schooled, nurtured and developed in the United States. His achievement, comprising a total of some three hundred original plates, places him in the first rank of those Americans who have practised suc¬ cessfully the art of etching. His Americanism — in his choice of subjects, in the virility of their treat¬ ment, in feeling — no less than the intrinsic merit of his work, has endeared that work to discriminating connoisseurs and collectors of American prints, and undoubtedly will cause it to be still more highly prized in years to come. This vigorous, robust, stalwart Americanism of the man was of prime significance in his art, and no other etcher ever excelled the beauty, strength and individuality, or ever surpassed the diversity and variety of his depiction of the American scene. Often his friends, fellow artists and others, would advise and sometimes urge him to go abroad — see Europe — seek fresh fields. But he invariably answered “Why should I go abroad? The Old World has no appeal for me. I can find subjects enough, and beauty and interest enough, too, to last me a life-time right here at home. I don’t need to seek any new field — the field in which I am now working is inexhaustible.” And so he devoted himself to American sub¬ jects exclusively, finding in city, town and country¬ side a wealth of appealing material for his art. Although not native-born, he lived his whole life here from early childhood, and he loved America as thoroughly, as loyally and as patriotically as if his forbears had dwelt here since the coming of the Mayflower. His untimely death at the height of his powers deprived America of an artist of rare personality, who saw her always with a lively appreciation, and who worked persistently and long to show that there are abundant American subjects, both romantic and picturesque, worthy of the best effort of American artists. Charles F. W. Mielatz was born at Breddin, “the pride’s door: st. Thomas’s church” FROM AN ETCHING BY C. F. W. MIELATZ Germany, on May 24, i860. He died in New York City on June 2, 1919. FI is family was Slavonic. He came into the world with an innate love of art. His earliest delight was in pictures, and from the day his baby fingers could hold a pencil he was JULY 9 2 2 t iv 0 n inety -three inceRnAcionAL EDGAR STREET FROM AN ETCHING BY C. F. W. MIELATZ always trying to make them. His mother was an amateur artist of some ability. The family came to America when the boy was only six years old. Setting up their new home in Chicago, young Mielatz was sent to the public school and he rapidly developed into an American boy. His ambition to become an artist grew apace, and as soon as he was old enough to be admitted he entered the Chicago School of Design. When he was twenty-one young Mielatz came to New York. Drawing and sketching from nature was his preoccupation and passionate delight. A chance acquaintance which soon ripened into a strong friendship with General Gouverneur Kemble Warren took him to Newport, R. I., where that officer was in command of a division of the United States Engineer Corps. General Warren gave Mielatz employment in the corps, in which he remained for the next five years, working at surveying, building lighthouses, raising sunken vessels, constructing sea walls, and helping on the Cape Cod Canal. He drew many plans and maps, and every spare moment was devoted to studying and drawing the forms of things afield. Here too he became enamoured of ships and shipping and acquired that intimate and exact knowledge, too rare among artists, of the structure and rig¬ ging of various vessels — a knowl¬ edge abundantly attested in several of his linest plates done in later years. One day when he was sketch¬ ing on a wharf at Newport a stranger, after peering over his shoulder for some time, asked to have a look at his sketchbook. Mielatz handed it over. The stranger examined its pages with careful scrutiny and then asked: “Did you ever try to etch?” “No,” answered Mielatz. “How do you do it?” “I’ll be glad to show you,” said the man, and forthwith made an appointment to do so. This man was J. J. Callahan, an amateur etcher living at New¬ port, who had mastered the technic ol the art and who made some very creditable copies of other men’s pictures. He showed Mielatz what tools and materials to procure and taught him how to use them. The process fas¬ cinated the young artist. The more he worked the more enamoured of it he became, and he ended by devoting his life to etching. In his long and assiduous practice of this exacting art he became a veritable magician with the needle, compassing in the multitudinous anti surprisingly varied plates he completed both an exceptional power — in the virile handling of architectural masses and the depicting of such engines of force as modern battleships — and an exceptional and magic charm in delineating land¬ scapes of poetic beauty, delicacy and refinement; in capturing the very spirit of picturesque build¬ ings, nooks, corners, vistas in city streets; in por¬ traying with rare and knowing skill and with lov¬ ing care for accuracy of detail river craft and ocean shipping in their harbor haunts. An altogether unusual combination of power and charm was, indeed, the dominant characteristic of the man two ninety-jour july 1922 mceRnACionAL and his work. He possessed and cultivated a keen sense for the picturesque wherever he saw it, and he had a sure eye for essential structural lines. As a draftsman he became a master of the virile but sensitive and vibrant line. Light and shade are dominant in many of his prints, but line is always an important factor, and it is to the purity of line that the shadows which tell so strongly in several of his most successful plates owe their strength. He did not often try to portray human figures, and the few intro¬ duced into his plates were casu¬ ally, and sometimes faultily, drawn. But in the three classes of subjects in which he specialized — landscape, shipping, and archi¬ tecture — he achieved rare mas¬ tery, such excellence, in truth, as cannot fail to give him permanent place among the loremost ex¬ ponents of etching. Such a statement, of course, implies an exceptional proficiency in the craftsmanship of etching; and Mielatz’s work is especially noteworthy for the resourceful¬ ness of his technical knowledge and skill. From first to last he was an explorer into the possi¬ bilities of the technical materials and processes of his art. A constant source of surprise to other etchers was the masterly freedom with which he used the bitten line, soft ground or hard, dry point, aquatint, color printing, monotype, or even the lithographic stone, frequently combining two or more processes to gain his results. So, again, was his tireless experimenting with acids, etching grounds, inks, tools, and with the use of textiles pressed against the plate. In aquatint he obtained delicate gradations of tone and texture formerly believed by etchers impossible. Mielatz made his first etching in 1883. He sent some of his work to the old New York Etching Club’s exhibition in 1884, and thereafter regularly as long as the club held annual exhibi¬ tions. He was elected a member of that club in 1890, and two years afterward became its secre¬ tary and treasurer, a post he held until the club went out of existence. His prints having found ready buyers, he had left the Engineer Corps in 1886 and set up a studio in New York. In the COENTIES SLIP FROM AN ETCHING BY C. F. W. MIELATZ course of the succeeding years public recognition of his art grew apace. He was elected an Associate of the National Academy and for fifteen years was chief instructor in etching at the school of the National Academy of Design. His early days in New York were filled with eager and successful adventures in quest of his¬ toric landmarks, picturesque bits of architecture, alluring vistas, impressive atmospheric effects, individualistic aspects of the city’s highways and byways. And as the years rolled by he kept on adding plate after plate to his graphic record of the American metropolis in its gradual but unpaus¬ ing change, until that record, to which he gave the collective title of “New York Old and New,” had surpassed all competition in the bulk of its picto¬ rial interest, artistic excellence, and historic value. This series ol etchings, dry points and aquatints of New York reaches the impressive number of more than one hundred, and includes subjects from almost every part of the city. No descrip- J U L Y 1922 two ninety -Jive mceRHAClODAL HIM© tive enumeration of this great series can be attempted in this article, but only an inadequate hint of its sur¬ prising richness and variety. Selection is diffi¬ cult, because nearly every one of these etchings possesses the faculty of provoking fresh interest. Such plates as “The Battery,” “Castle Gar¬ den,” “In the Bowery,” “Catherine Market,” “Bit of Baxter Street, Five Points,” “The Tombs,” “Oyster Market, Foot of Christopher Street,” “Market Garden, Riverside Drive,” “Rainy Day, Broadway,” “Grand Central Sta¬ tion at Night,” “Two Bridges on the Harlem,” “Kingsbridge on the Harlem,” “The Lock, Mott Haven Canal,” and many another lure us back with appreciative delight to the town of a by¬ gone day. “Sectional Docks, East River,” “Near South Ferry,” “Atlas Docks,” “Under the Bridge,” “Tramps, East River,” and others are filled with the romance of ships that will not be seen again in New York Harbor. But Mielatz etched these subjects not for any possible anti¬ quarian appeal, but because their peculiar quali¬ ties of picturesqueness pleased his personal taste. The “Coenties Slip,” with its shipping and the row of quaint old Dutch houses, topped by the tower of the Produce Exchange in the background, is a fascinating plate, and one that shows the artist’s meticu¬ lous care in working over a subject until his picture satisfied his critical sense. It was begun in 1890, but the plate was not completed to his satisfaction until seven years had passed — in 1907. The “Edgar Street” is one of the quaintest and most delightful of plates, as this shortest street in New York is one ol the most picturesque of those survivals in lower Manhattan linking the busy modern city with the original street plan of early New Amsterdam. In those early days when the Hudson River extended to the present line of Greenwich Street this short thoroughfare proba¬ bly ran from what is now Trinity Place to the waterfront. “Old Rookeries, Greenwich Village” depicts one of those unsuspected architectural secrets that sometimes come to light when a new street is opened up in an old part of the city. One of the most charming features ol the architecture of old New York was to be found in the doorways of the more formal mansions. These entrances were often designed in the best spirit of the Colonial period. Despite the rapid and now almost complete disappearance of the old city, there are still a few examples of this early period left, although they are mostly in a regrettable JUMEL MANSION AND THE TOY SHOP FROM ETCHINGS BY C. F. W. MIELATZ two ninety-six JULY 922 inceRnActonAL state of neglect. Mielatz hunted out artistic gems of this kind, often in sordid streets where the buildings had come to be utilized for incongruous purposes, and recorded them in some of his most felicitous plates. One such is “The Toy Shop” (picturing delight¬ fully and with an almost vagrant freedom a lovely old house in Third Avenue near 124th Street), which is the most popular plate in the whole series. When this house was built it fronted on the old Boston post road, “7 Miles from City Hall N. York,” according to a milestone which was still there in 1903. It had probably gained the dignity of age when the news of the Battle of Lexington was brought by courier or stage coach, yet the fine lines of its entrance and its lovely windows have lost nothing of their dignity and grace. Still another is the adorable facade of the historic “Jumel Mansion,” most stately and best preserved of all the relics of early New York, which was built in the year 1758. The “Highbriclge,” done in 1917, is a direct and simple but fascinating presentment of another of New York’s fine and characteristic monumental structures. This beautiful plate typi¬ fies Mielatz’s feeling for essentials and a deeper note underlying surface picturesqueness. Equally re¬ markable, but in an altogether different vein, is a plate dated 1917, “The Bride’s Door, St. Thomas’s Church,” with its exquisite precision, its sharp and clean detail, its vigorous contrasts, its marvelous denotement of the texture of limestone, and the velvety black of the door in deep shadow. An amazing achievement of personality in treatment is the very large plate (etching and aquatint combined) of “Edgar Allan Poe’s Cot¬ tage at Fordham.” The late Edmund Clarence Steelman, most famous of Poe’s editors, declared of this plate: “Not until now has an artist so chosen his site and so striven after the required tone as to convey a high imaginative quality — the quality of Poe’s own mood and utterance — in the rendering of the scene.” Mielatz loved New York, yet landscape was his first love and remained his greatest. His etched landscapes are not merely literal trans¬ cripts from nature, but each of them is infused and permeated with poetic feeling and artistic insight. What bigness of feeling and grasp of the freedom of earth and sky he achieved in such plates as the “ Fisherman’s Home — Block Island,” and the marvelous soft ground etching entitled “Road to the Sea — Speonk, Long Island,” — marvelous alike for its effect of buoyancy, fresh¬ ness, breeziness, and its technical triumph over refractory materials. What lyric loveliness he transfixed in the “Old Mill — Block Island,” the ROAD TO THE SEA — SPEONK, LONG ISLAND FROM AN ETCHING BY C. F. W. MIELATZ JULY 1922 two ninety-seven inrreRnACionAL “Trout Pond — Moorsfield,” fisherman s home block island streets and buildings, places FROM AN ETCHING BY C. F. W. MIELATZ ° 1 the “Long Island Woodpath,” the “Evening on the Caioosahatehie,” and other dry points — plates in which the richness and subtlety of the dry point process are developed to an extraordinary degree. There are scores of these lovely landscapes over which to linger. In his later years Mielatz had experimented with remarkable success in the production of polychrome etchings by a method of his own development, using a separate etched plate tor each of three primary colors and a kev-plate for the outline design, superimposing one upon another in the printing. The results he obtained are wonderfully beautiful and, like everything else Mielatz did, distinctively individualistic. He had an exact sense of color values in etching. He knew the perils of the smeary plate. So he worked with discretion and oftener than not his color spots are hints, indications, sometimes simply delicate suggestions. Notably is this true in a charming set of ten architectural subjects, in which again is revealed his love of the old gentility ol forgotten where historic interest has long since been encroached upon or obliterated by the city’s growth and change. One of the most successful pictures in this series is the “Balcony in Pell Street,” the exterior of a Chinese restaurant whose balcony is exquisite in color modulation, with its panels of teak stained with the tender robin’s-egg blue beloved of the Celestial. The “Washington Square,” “No. 7 State Street,” “Ericsson’s House, Beach Street,” are superb plates in a remarkable set in color. In such prints as the colorful and poetical “Moonlight on the Hudson” (filled with night’s mystery and calm); that fairly dazzling example of sheer virtuosity in color, “Woman and Macaws” (after a brilliant painting by George B. Luks); the lovely “Winter Night,” in soft ground and aquatint, there are abundant proofs of Mielatz’s color mastery and complete refutation of the old notion that “pure good color” could not be achieved by the etching process. [Reproductions by courtesy oj Mrs. Mielatz ] two ninety -ei gh t JULY 1922 inceRnAcionAL PHILADELPHIA'S OUTDOOR SCULPTURE SHOW The gardens of Rittenhouse Square were made an exhibition gallery by the Art Alliance “thread of life” BY- HARRIET FRISHMUTH Standing in the open sunlight or embowered in the trees and shrubbery of Rittenhouse Square, the sculptures forming the outdoor exhibition of the Philadelphia Art Alliance gave an effect of natural charm never to be obtained ivhen such works are shown indoors, presenting a con¬ vincing argument for art properly displayed. if* “AN INFANT BURBANK” BY- HERBERT ADAMS Fountain statues in formal pools, figures meant for garden lawns, and sun-dials standing in the open, ter¬ minal figures gleaming amidst shrub¬ bery, all fell into their proper relation to the surroundings with no feeling of straining for effect. Light and shade meant something in connection with sculptures so displayed, an achievement seldom obtained in the artificial illumination of galleries. Artists and public could see scul]>ture under circumstances testing its beauty. The show, by the enthusiasm it aroused, proved itself worthy oj emulation everywhere in the country. “sun-dial” BY- HENRI CRENIER two ninety-nine July' 1922 mceRnAcionAL :sm© Draughtsman and ex¬ quisite colorist, his i li¬ ft uence permeates the art of his country • • by □ F. NEWLIN PRICE ' HO draws a line and satisfies his soul, making it crooked when it should be straight? An idiot with an oyster shell can draw a line upon the sand all wavering, seeking no point nor pathway to a point. An idiot once removed, may choose his line, struggle, and be content; but God be praised! Antonio Stradivari has an eye which ivinces at false work and loves the true; and hand and arm, which play upon the tool, as willingly as any singing bird ivakes him to sing his morning roundelay because be likes to sing, and likes the song!” — Song attri¬ buted to Stradivarius. □ sen’s early life as time! He says he was always “do is “rotten rich.” If I could 1 Once upon a time in the Academy there was a painting by Hale of his mother, and Carlsen stood close by with some young folks gathered around, giving a little lecture on the beauty of color and fine draw¬ ing, and a prominent artist came up and said, “Carlsen, you should leave such problems of drawing to the judgment of a figure painter.” This to Emil Carlsen, who had taught drawing for close on forty years, and had come to the United States of America from Den¬ mark and the Royal Copenhagen Academy as an architect! Perhaps the painters who do the best drawing are the ones who are least conscious of the work of their own hands — and are, in consequence, the most modest. Carlsen has painted portraits, many ot them. Four of Dines, his son, will be long remembered. He has painted moonlight and summer, and the sea. I do not know of any snow paintings. He hates the cold. I recall a studio on a big sled — that of J. Alden Weir, built for painting winter — but Carlsen would not paint in it. Yet 1 think he would have done it most beautifully. If I could give to you Carl- Carlsen tells it from time to g poor” but now well, here’s a go: He came over in ’72, and went to Chicago to work for an archi¬ tect. “He gave me $20 a week. When I left he said ‘1 will give you $40 a week.’” He opened a school there for mechanical drawing, but it did not go. “I had a partner who ran away with the cash. There was a large picture that I painted, and he sold that and took the money. Then I went back to the archi¬ tect. He said, ‘I will give you $10 a week.’ So I worked for him a little while. He was a close old fellow — knew I needed the job. Holst, a Danish painter, saw some of the marine sketches that I had made in Denmark, and offered me $3 a day to work for him. I painted ships and figures and laid in canvases for him. He had a lot to do. I had a little sketch that I had painted in Elsinore in Denmark. This little sketch was in his studio, and he sold the picture, 10 by 12, to a collector who came along one day and said, ‘I like that little sketch of yours.’ Holst remarked, ‘That is a little study I made,’ and the collector said, ‘All right, I will take that.’ I told him that he had no right to sell my sketches, “madonna of the magnolias” BY EMIL CARLSEN three hundred JULY 1922 " THE FAN "SmMrl: sen inceRiiAcionAL SOTM© Mli guMfex “May Beechwoods ' by EMIL CARLSEN J U L Q 2 2 three hundred three tnceRnAcionAL THE GOLDEN BACKGROUND BY EMIL CARLSEN but he only remarked, ‘That is all right,’ and gave me $5 for it. He went back to Denmark and became a well-known painter afterward. Before he went back to Europe he said, ‘You keep the studio, Carlsen,’ and that was the way I started. “Mr. Volk, the sculptor, of the Chicago Art Institute, wanted a teacher in the art school. I was the first teacher there. This was after the fire. I had a good salary at the Chicago Art Institute, and I sold quite a few pictures. I was then in the early twenties. I painted the ‘Smug¬ gler’s Curse,’ the one with the smuggler standing up shaking his list at the revenue cutter — an awful picture. L. C. Earle, who had lately returned from Europe, advised me to go back and study. So I said, ‘All right.’ That was in ’75. I went to Denmark, and then to Paris, where I studied until I had no money (six months), and then came back to New York. “When I came back I had a studio near Murphy. Murphy had worked in Chicago, and I had known him there when he had taken care ol Elkins’ studio, cleaning and washing his brushes. That was where he started to paint, and even then his work had the promise he so splen¬ didly carried to completion. In New York I lived in Twenty-third Street in a boarding house. I took twelve comic drawings to a downtown dealer who picked out one and said they might use some of the ethers. I got $2 for that, and never another cent. They kept the lot. I sent to Denmark for some money which was lost coming over. In ’76 I went to dines BY EMIL CARLSEN Boston, did fairly well and feasted high.” A very human sort of life! Then came a period of hardship, and in 1879 he had an auction of thirty paintings; seventeen were sold, and the balance, protected for small sums, came back to him. In fact, after the sale Carlsen was in debt to the manager of the auction rooms some seven or eight dollars. This was fatal. He gave up the studio and took a position as designer and later as engraver. In two years his employer was making money gorgeously, and had raised Carlsen’s wages from ten dollars for three days a week to one hundred dollars for a lull week. The work, however lucrative, was un¬ pleasant, and with debts paid he left the job and opened a small studio, painting again and teach¬ ing. This seems to have been the cycle of his days — paint, teach, work, and then painting again — until in the fulness of his life he created an art of his own, appreciated and of value. It was then that Blakeslee, the art dealer, came to him and wanted to buy some of his paint¬ ings* He made a contract with Carlsen to take a picture a month from him if he would paint the canvases abroad, and Carlsen went to Paris and painted for him during the next two years. Metcalf, Mowbray, Isham and some of the other American painters were in Paris, and he saw a great deal of them, but associated mostly with French artists. Here he painted flowers and still life pictures for the dealers, mostly for Blakeslee. But he took time enough for a large figure and still three hundred four JULY 1922 mteRnAtionAL SCfflDE© life canvas for the salon of ’85, which was later sold to Mr. George Seney, and after his death bought by Joseph Jefferson, himself a painter of no mean ability. This sale, incidentally, established for Carlsen a “bank account for one week,” which was by way of being an event. However, Blakeslee wanted yellow roses and more yellow roses, till Carlsen got tired of yellow roses, and, breaking his con¬ tract, came back to New York. On Fifty-fifth Street, in a studio Weir later used, he painted many pictures, and got along quite well. When things were getting low, Mrs. Richardson, the San Francisco artist, asked him if he would take a position as director of the San Francisco Art School. This he accepted and in 1887 went out to California for four years. His life at the old Bohemian Club would make a story in itself, full of charm and the most delightful sort of associations. He returned to New York late in 1891, penni¬ less and happy, and has made it his home ever since, except when in Europe. A great deal of his time he has given to teaching — in the National Academy of Design, or the Philadelphia Academy of Fine Arts. The latter knew his influence and delightful companionship until late in 1918. Carlsen himself had only one instructor, aside from his fellow students, J. Alden Weir, “an artist without knowing it,” Kenyon Cox, Henry Golden Dearth, and John Twachtman. This teacher was his cousin, a painter, “and a good one” in Denmark. He is president of the Academy there now. Carlsen’s mother painted and was “a highly gifted woman, a tiny little woman,” who, according to her son, “never weighed a hundred pounds in her life.” II Fro m time immemorial there has been a cus¬ tom, a pleasant, productive custom, perpetuating the genus art. One, by dint of greater energy and “the shadow of the cliff” BY EMIL CARLSEN JULY 1922 three hundred jive mceRHACionAL taste, took to him those younger and less gifted to learn, and the one was the master and the others worked and listened and followed him about. Even now, when we are blessed with great libraries and gifted orators, and a sure reward for ability, we depend on the per¬ sonal leadership of the living masters of art. So when we see Carlsen, wandering like a troubadour over the land, teaching in California, Chicago, Philadelphia, New York, we must pay tribute to his inborn leadership. No one a better chemist in the mixture of paints, no one a better technician in the preparation of canvas than he. Recall Carl- sen’s preparing six canvases for Weir, and, later calling on him, finding them all hung up un¬ touched, and Weir’s “Old Carlsen, they were too beautiful.’’ No one a better draughtsman with the power to see the thing as it really was, and lay its spirit in color before you in his own peculiarly emphasized manner, with a refinement that MOONLIGHT AND SEA BY EMIL CARLSEN surprised you by its simplicity. The almost nameless colors of Carlsen’s wood interiors mean to some a curious harmony of an indefinite solitude. The dim light that filters through his woodland corridors, which are so like cathedral spaces, makes you feel a presence there and brings you to acquain¬ tance with a forest folk whom you have never met, nor had time to know. II that old Latin “Laborare est orare,” is true, then Carlsen here has prayed with glory. “Anything is cause for him to paint a picture,” said one artist as he looked at “May Beechwoods,” where, from a matted golden red and green ground, rose high branchless trunks of ancient trees to vaulted tops and sunlit spaces. Just as his marines are blue and creamy white at times, so his woodlands are green and creamy brown. They are beautifully drawn. Weir’s favorite criticism of Carlsen was “Old Carlsen, you draw too much.” He was well advanced in three hundred six july 1922 mceRnACionAL years before painting supported him. How could he help drawing beautifully when all his life he had spent in drawing, and teaching young folks to draw? I do not think you will object to the drawing — he has sensed the tree formations rather than entangled his design. A little white sea, that washed like a flood of pearls upon the sand under a creamy gray sky — yes, a little white sea! They tell me that we must have gaudy red and apple greens and the strife of pure color, but in his case they would not have served. The beauty of Carlsen’s little gray boat on the sand will send us out, patient and strong.- As fine as Whistler and more fine in spirit are his little sketches of the sea. Carlsen is a great admirer of Woodbury and cherishes a little study that Woodbury gave him. He calls it a masterly drawing of wave formation. But Woodbury says to Carlsen, “I do not like your water,” and Carlsen answers, ‘‘That’s nothing, I do not like your water.” Carlsen’s marines are done with a true love. Carlsen loves the sea. One artist relates how he met Carlsen at Ogunquit, and as they walked in the moonlight they stopped very often and looked out over the deep, dark sea with its pathway of spark¬ ling light leading out of the horizon, and stood spellbound until Carlsen dashed his hat to the beach, and cried ‘‘My God, isn’t it wonderful!” There are some of his moonlight marines that give you that feeling, that take you out of your¬ self, and you too feel his wonder and love. There was an evening when I sat in a corner of the Salmagundi Club, a quiet pleasant evening, when old Carlsen came and sat down beside me. It was pleasant to hear his vivid description of a terrible still life that some one in Philadelphia had just painted. “You can call him a darn tool, but that’s no argument. Harmony of angles, ingenuity, inven¬ tion, is this an artist’s business, and does he paint these devices? Is there a soul that dominates, an ideal that lifts, inspires? I am old fashioned. 1 cannot believe these men. A tomato thrown at a PORTRAIT OF A TREE BY EMIL CARLSEN JULY 1922 three hundred seve n mceRtiAtionAL canvas might do as well. After all, a painting is not good because it is bad — it cannot be simply experimental. It must hold some other quality than a manufactured oddness. Beauty is lovable.” New art, modern art: Carlsen has given it to you. There is something so entirely personal in the still life of Carlsen, that no one can find it smug or complacent — the “Carved Panel,” for instance. Carlsen found an exquisite French woodcarving of the fourteenth century of the interment of Christ, and he painted it back of the withered leaves of the lotus flower, so that the gray wood with its polychromed parts brings you a distinct revelation of beauty you had not seen before. Or take the “Madonna of the Magnolias” — color, line drawing and, lar more important, the spiritual. It leads you into the caves of time, and brings the spell of olden days near to you. “Oh ye of Little Faith” is probably Carlsen’s best known painting. The domed blue sky of night, the quiet moonlit sea, the figure of Jesus walking on the quiet waves, lift you into the very soul of things divine. Living in Paris near the Louvre, where he could admire and study Chardin, Carlsen tells many stories of still fife painting — how at times they would eat the fruit, or mortgage themselves deeply to buy the flowers they needed. It was at this time he changed his palette and swung into the lighter colors. Gradually he developed a quality of surface that is an outstanding char¬ acteristic of his later works — the surface which he built and painted so carefully, only to cut it down and paint again, and scrape and paint to make the canvas finer and still finer. It stimulated his enthusiasm to have the surface heavy and beautiful in color, that the rare Phoeni¬ cian glass might not suffer in his interpretation, but show splendidly opalescent. There is masterly drawing, and, further than this, mood of color and rich surface, as well as design, which make a still fife by Carlsen a masterpiece resembling a rare gem beautifully set. “autumnal” BY EMIL CARLSEN three hundred eight july 1922 inteRnAcionAL SCSI®!© he earliest Chi¬ nese bronzes are mainly the sacri¬ ficial vessels used at the cere¬ monial worship of their ances¬ tors, known in China as the “Offerings to the Shades of the Departed,” and were made during the Shang dynasty, which existed considerably over three thousand years ago. In the fall of 1917, Mr. Charles L. Freer ex¬ hibited several fine specimens of these archaic bronzes at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, thus giving, to those interested, a splendid opportunity for the study of this fascinating subject. Possibly the only figures evolved in bronze during this ancient period were the mythical heads of the T’ao-t’ieh ogre, so frequently used on the shoulders of the supports of a variety of sacrificial vessels, and the fabulous dragon; for tradition gives to the latter the very greatest antiquity. The Chinese have unquestionably conceived the most weird delineations of mythical monsters, such as are only seen in dreams. The varied forms taken by the T’ao-t’ieh which represents a marvellous glutton¬ ous ogre-head are certainly the most curious and fantastic that the mind of man has ever devised. The bronze libation cup of the Chou dynasty shown herewith, exhibits on its handle one of these ferocious ogres; it also has a band enriched with very curious figures of archaic dragons. Bas-reliefs with human¬ istic figure subjects probably existed during the Shang dynasty, but no authenti¬ cated examples of that art have yet been discov¬ ered. Perhaps when the spirit of Western civilization permeates a little deeper and lessens the superstitions of the Chinese, further and more scientific archeo¬ logical excavations can be made and we shall then be able to pene¬ trate many of the secrets of the very early times of China. But at present the idea of disturbing, even by chance, the grave of an an¬ cestor is not to be thought of by almost all classes of Chinese. The powerful Chou dy¬ nasty which succeeded the Shang and existed for over nine centuries, offers a plentiful quota of sacrificial vessels that are, excepting the helmet shaped tripod libation cups, mostly lineal des¬ cendants of the previous dynasty; and no figures except those before referred to seem to have been developed. But when the Han dynasty existing from 206 B. C. to 220 A. D. is reached, many symbolic statuettes and figurines were sculptured. The early period of the Han dynasty was un¬ interesting in its bronze work due to the over repetition of models, brought about by the definite forms and measurements that were pre¬ scribed by the Taoist ritual. But fortunately this was dispelled by the advent of Buddhism, and a new all-pervading impetus was given to almost every Chinese art. This was naturally reflected in the works in bronze, for although the old character¬ istics and decorative motives were largely retained, a new deftness of touch and an improvement in tech¬ nique became apparent. Taoism, the first cult or religion of China, is so in¬ timately interwoven with the legendary history ot the country, that it is practically impossible to divest one from the other. The cult can be traditionally traced from the earliest inception ol Pan-ku, their first man or Adam emerging in prehistoric times from chaos on earth at the mythical dawn of the Ch inese nation, to its full conception as recorded by Lao Tzii. That venerated sage was born at Lo Yang, now Ho-nan Fu, in the sixth century B. C. Ch’uNG CHEN, LAST EMPEROR OF THE MING DYNASTY Taoist bronze figures preserve creeds and legends three thousand gears old • by FRANK, Ff.G. KEEBLE JULY 1922 t h r ee hu n d r ed ni n e mceRnACiorjAL mmi THE TAOIST I M MORTAL HAN HSI ENG TZU TAOIST IMMORTALS - AT LEFT, LI TIEH KUAI *. AT RIGHT, CHUNG LI CHUAN Pan-ku was followed by a series of mythical celestial, terres¬ trial and human emperors, the last of these, Sui Jen, credited with the discovery of fire, the first step toward raising man from a brutish animal. A triad of emperors known as the San Huang begin a legendary period and the Chinese generally recognize the first Fu Hsi as the earliest of their rulers. He was a very beneficent per¬ sonage and in- marauding rebels and finally ruled with such force of char¬ acter that the infliction of a fine or a punishment was un¬ known; certainly a remarkably idyllic condition of life, even if somewhat paternalistic. The third of this interest¬ ing group was Shen Nung, who founded markets, invented a wooden plough and instructed his people in the usages of herbs and husbandry. The five THE TAOIST IMMORTAL CHANG KUO troduced a better and less wild social system, taught his people how to fish, hunt, tend their flocks and build primitive habitations. He also constructed musical in¬ struments and replaced a former crude knot writing with a system of hieroglyphics and trigrams; the knot writing is supposed to have been similar to the quippus used by the Incas of Peru and recorded various transactions. The mystic eight trigrams oi divination or Pa-kua were divulged to the em¬ peror by a fabulous dragon-horse bearing these symbols on his back, when he rose from the sacred waters of the Yellow River. This fabulous animal was occasionally depicted in bronze at much later epochs. Chu Yung, the second of the triad, was cele¬ brated as a con¬ quering emperor who saved his country trom succeeding rulers known as Wu Ti rose to much higher levels of civiliza¬ tion, fabricating weapons, digging wells, building palaces and govern¬ ing their myriads of people with justice and celestial benevo¬ lence. Such in¬ deed was the fame of the first of the group, Huang Ti, the yellow emperor, that the Taoists A SOLID BRONZE LIBATION CUP OF THE CHOU DYNASTY. THE HANDLE IS DECORATED WITH THE t’aO-t’iEH, OR OGRE HEAD three hundred ten These bronze figurines of the Taoist Immortals date from the early Ming dynasty , and complete sets are very seldom found outside China. Taoism was the earliest religion of ancient China, and is rich in myth and legend JULY 922 irareRHACionAL THE TAOIST IMMORTAL HO HSIEN KU THE TAOIST IMMORTAL TS’aO KUO CH’iN GROUP OF SHANG TI, TAOIST TRIAD OF COUNSELLORS — THREE FIGURINES OF THE HAN DYNASTY have deified and worshipped him as the inventor of alchemy and the regulator of the calendar. His consort Hsi-Iing Shih has been also immortal¬ ized and is even today venerated in China for her introduction of the silkworm and weaving. The other four rulers of this group all had their merits but of a lesser degree. A supplementary emperor or god of writing and history also ap¬ pears in this period and fs worshipped as Tzi-Shen. Confucius begins his renowned Classical Annals with the names of the next two rulers Yao and Shun, evidencing the fact that he believed that the traditional and legendary stages of Chinese history were passed. These two heroic leaders were noted for their immense hydrographic work. They commenced to rule in 2205 B. C. and were the first two emperors of the great Hsia dynasty which exercised sway till its over¬ throw in 1767 B. C. At the memorial temple to this dynasty, which stands outside their ancient capital of Ping-yang Fu, ancestor worship, the chief cult of Taoism, is performed even to the present day. Chieh Kuei, the last of the degenerate em¬ perors of the Hsia dynasty, was overthrown by T’ang, the Com¬ pleter, who founded the Shang dynasty, which remained in power till 1122 B. C. The brilliant Chou dynasty followed and its first emperor ^ ^ Wu Wang, the son of Wen Wang, longevity. ’ a prince of the Principality of Chou, had a very brilliant career. The other early emperors of the thirty-six that reigned till B. C. 255 are still as renowned among the Chinese today for their great virtues and wisdom as the celebrated mythical rulers of greater antiquity. During this powerful feudal dynasty many events of moment transpired and several renowned philoso¬ phers gave great lustre to learning. Mu Wang, the sixth emperor, is venerated in Taoist legends for the invasion of the Western Mountains; his wonderful charioteer Tsao Fu driving the “Eight Famous Horses” of Chinese history to the beautiful aerial Fairy Palace of Hsi Wang Mu, the royal mother of the West. This palace and the Taoist’s paradise have been prolific sources of inspira¬ tion to many generations of artists. Tire close of the sixth century B. C. produced Lao Tzu, enig¬ matic philosopher and reputed founder of Taoism, who was finally deified as Shou Lao, the god of longevity. Lao Tzu is recorded as having had at least one interview with China’s most famous sage Confucius, who lived 551-475 B. C. Their philosophy seems to be summed up largely in teaching eminent virtue, espe¬ cially humility, loyalty to their emperors and the continuance of the worship of wise ancestors. Mencius, the third of the great teachers of this epoch, was THE GOD OF SUNG DYNASTY JULY 1922 three eleven inceRnAcionAL SffflDE© born in 372 B. C., and while a two bronze temple guardians 0f [luman figures yet known in , . OF THE MING DYNASTY ° J disciple of the great sage Conlucius China, but are most decorative seems to have developed and broadened out his teachings in some degree. Until this period the worship of Tao, Lao Tzu’s concrete name for all previous traditions and his own philosophy, was invested no doubt with many curious superstitions, but does not seem to have been so ramified with the cult of the myriads of incarnate demons, spirits, geomancy and the searching for the Fairy Isles of the East¬ ern Sea, where the herbs of immortality were to be gathered, as prevailed about the second century B. C., during the Ch’in and Han dynasties. A number of celebrated bas-reliefs, purely Chinese in character and bearing no trace of Indian influence, are identified with the opening period of the Han dynasty. These bas-rehefs are not only important for the earliest presentment and depict many traditional and legendary feats and exploits of the famous emperors of antiquity. The figures in the panels are interestingly garbed in the quaint ceremonial costumes of the times. In one instance the methods of travelling are pictured, presenting war chariots variously drawn by two and four horses, almost identical in shape with our hansom cabs, now disappearing. Another is composed with a rare arrangement of horses, birds, scrolled swirling dragons, other fantastic monsters and deified human figures, curiously representing the contemporary idea of the Taoistic Aerial Abode or Paradise. Slightly later in the 1 Ian dynasty, during the first century B. C., there arose a very baneful influence on Taoism, in the person of a magician named Chang Tao-ling, who gave a further impetus to demonology three twelve july 1922 mceRnACionAL seen cl ants; one of whom is now the high priest of Taoism and dwells on the mountain of Lung- hu in Kiang-si. Even today he is supposed to be animated by the spirit of his long departed ancestor. In 67 A. D. two Indian priests at the request of the em¬ peror Ming-ti arrived at his court and the official approval was placed on Buddha’s tenets. The two priests brought many sacred relics, manu¬ scripts and paintings of Buddhistic figures, which were finally enshrined in the celebrated White Horse Temple, Pai Ma S’su, at the capital Lo Yang. The temple was erected in remembrance of the famous white horse, that bore the sacred burden of venerated relics from India. It seems that shortly after the arrival ol Bud¬ ties, genii e ncl temple guardians, now be¬ came more or less involved by the new religion. The group of Shang-ti, the prin¬ cipal triad of the gods of Taoism, was modeled to take the place in the temples of the great Bud¬ dhistic triad. The figures of the three gods or counsellors, as seen in the illustration, are very archaic in character and of the Han period. One representing Iile, wearing flowing robes bearing the Shou mark, the ancient symbol of longevity, and carrying a long staff in his right hand; another Destiny, similarly garbed, bearing a child in his arms; the third Death with his fatal sceptre. These three counsellors are supposed to watch over the life of every individual, and re¬ ceive much worship and magnificent gifts from DANCING GENIUS STANDING ON A SYMBOLIC TOAD and set the seal on the greater humiliation of its dogmas by means of the strange and fantastic. Chang Tao-Iing, when in close retreat, pro¬ fessed to have compounded lor himself the elixir of longevity and renewed his own youth. He be¬ came a high priest or bonze of the cult; declaring his supremacy over all spirits and was actually credited with the easy destruction of millions of demons. On his death he left his occult books and charms to his de- dhism, the priests and disciples of the Taoist cult were more active than before in the erection of temples and monasteries with ritualistic services; the ancestral worship having been previously largely offered at the shrines in the palaces or homes of the Chinese. Then naturally followed the serious development of the symbolic and deified figures with their attributes for the en¬ richment of these temple interiors and courtyards. Great gods, lesser divini¬ THE TAOIST IMMORTAL LU TUNG-PIN THE TAOIST IMMORTAL LAN TS’AI HO ■JULY 1922 three thirlee n inceRnAtionAL sotm© their devotees who subscribe to the ancient rituals. Taoism from the Han dynasty on through the succeeding dynasties of the Wei, the artistic T’ang, the august Sung, the Yuan, the luxur¬ iant Ming and Ch’ing, has further declined from the ideals of its main tenets, creating gods for almost all purposes, is even more extravagant in its demonology, and today advances the greatest opposition in China to the propagation of the science and religion of the West. One of the illustrations is of an interesting jeweled and gilded censer and exhibits one of the twin genii of union and harmony, who so often accompany Shou Lao, the god of longevity, wear¬ ing gilded flowing robes and dancing on the myth¬ ical three legged horned toad whose eves are of wonderful green jade. The history of this myth¬ ical toad in Taoist lore is very curious. At the time of the great emperor Yao about 2000 B. C., according to tradition, there lived a great “Archer Lord,” whose wife Ch’ang-0 re¬ lieved her husband of his greatest treasure, the elixir ot immortality, and fled with it to the moon. Ch’ang-0 was there metamorphosed into this ugly toad in reward for her perfidy. The Sung dynasty was notable for the fine simplicity of its figures as well as for its beautiful porcelain. Our figure of Shou Lao, the deification of the great sage and founder of Taoism, Lao Tzu, is significant of this period; his high and pro- truberant brow gives a fine expression of dignity; he lrequently carries a peach or a spray of peaches, his robes were almost invariably embroidered with the Shou mark at a later period and he is often accompanied by one or two gazelles — all symbolic of his gift of longevity for which he is assiduously worshipped. Complete sets of figures like the early Ming group of the Pa-Hsien or eight Taoist Immortals, here reproduced, are seldom found outside of China and these are especially interesting, for their symbols are typical and easily identified. Chung-Ii Chuan, with his exposed drooping breasts, long beard, and shaved head, carries a fan in his right hand and a chowry brush in his left hand. Chang Kuo, with his priestly cap, wears long robes and his famous bamboo tube is in his right hand. Ts’ao Kuo Ch’in wears a three flapped cap and long flowing robes and carries a pair of castanets in his right hand. Han Hsieng Tzu, with hair closely dressed and bound into two knots at the sides, smiles with pleasure at the dulcet tones of his magic flute. Ho-Hsien Ku is attired in very quaintly ribboned robes and carries a symbolic spray of lotus blos¬ soms. Lii Tung-pin wears a wonderfully ingen¬ ious flat cap and bears a sword in his left hand and a peach in his other hand. Li Tieh Kuai is depicted as a lame mendicant wearing scanty garb, helping himself with his famous iron crutch and carrying his always attendant gourd. Lan Ts’ai-ho, the last of this interesting group, is seen carrying a peach in the left hand and a basket ot flowers in the other hand. A seated figure of Ch’ung Chen, the last Ming emperor, gives some idea of the very magnificently embroidered robes worn at this period by the great dignitaries of the state. The title of this emperor when translated is “Great Luxuriance.” Two temple guardians, in their unwieldlv mock armor and flamed helmets, certainly appear ferocious in all but facial expression. The nine heavens of the Chinese with their ever widening circle are all supposed to be peopled with innumerable fairies, genii and gods of many different propensities; even wealth, literature and history being represented among them. However, the Chinese have in general been very complacent toward the gods of rival creeds and it is not very infrequently found that vessels or even figures are invested with influences from all three of their cults, including as they do the Taoist, Buddhist and Mohammedan. An interesting appearance of Indian influence developed in the mid-eighteenth century under the great Emperor Ch’ien-lung. This reign was re¬ nowned for the refinement and beauty of all the works of art produced therein, not only in bronze but in porcelain, silver and carvings in ivory, crystal and jade. The silk weaving of the temple and other banners reached a high pitch of per¬ fection, presenting in many instances figure subjects, almost of the fineness of miniatures and glistening with gold threads. A profuse display of garlanded jewels and other distinctive motives can be traced to Thibet rather than to India. Perhaps one of the chief pleasures experienced in viewing the bronze figures is the beautilul patina of the older pieces, due in some instances to their long burial in very varied soils, which have developed on them rose reds, malachite green and many other shadings between these two, often blending into very lovely tones. Added to this, gilding on bronze has at least been known since the Han dynasty, B. C. 200, for there is a tiny figure of that period in the Metropolitan Museum of Art which still bears beautiful gilding. Sparkling jewels and enamels so profusely used in India were not forgotten and the richness of the interiors of the temples with their myriads of scintillating figures must have been superb. three fourteen July 1922 mreRHACionAL “ LANDSCAPE ” BY ERIC HECKEL PRINCIPLES (/MODERN GERMAN ARE ay painting be imaginative? That is the pro¬ blem of our con¬ temporary art. Two generations, more than half a century of natural¬ istic conception in painting had gone by, when, at the beginning of the new century a different way of artistic looking at the world began to gain power. Nature is the mother of all painting. It is due to American research that the positivistic school carried the victory in psychology and philosophy. The absolute dependency of all psychic contents on previous experience has been proved beyond all doubt. With our eyes we gather impressions of the whole world, and we are able to reproduce whatever stirs our feeling. The vast scope of what we may call near-to-nature painting, all naturalistic styles at different periods in the his¬ tory of mankind, bear witness of the immense amount of incitement that painters have drawn from nature. But nature is so rich that certainly one way of looking at the world need not exclude another. And the fact that from the earliest days of our childhood our eyes gather a wealth of impressions, stored up within our souls, does not exclude the other fact that we can remould these impressions in unlimited variations and combinations. This faculty of our mind is an absolute fact and beyond discussion. Every¬ body knows from his own experience that remin¬ iscences of facts can be changed, varied in size and color, combined in any way. Certainly all Tendency is away from nature, toward strength of structure and toward compactness * • • by a DR. MAX DERI a JULY 1922 three fifteen mceRnACtoriAL parts of a combination of this kind must be taken from experience, but the result¬ ing combination does not exist in reality: it is a creation of the soul. Our day-dreams are filled by thousands of images not existing in this world — constructions of that faculty of the soul which we call imagination. What we call artistic imagination is in most cases nothing but this variation of experienced impressions. And still we know, that such images, though they are absolutely impossible ol realiza¬ tion on this earth, can give us the greatest joy. Remember our fairy tales and the stories of mythology. Once we acknowl¬ edge this, we will find the injustice of both contrasting affirma¬ tions: the one that demands that every work of art shall be like its model in na¬ ture; the other, so often cited in our times, that a work of art must not resemble nature. The truth, confirmed by history and personal expe¬ rience, is that a work of art can as well be born from a naturalistic point of view as take its roots from imagination. Periods of near-to-nature and far-fronr-nature production have always alternated in the history of art. Thus today we have just passed the turn¬ ing period from near-to-nature to far-from-nature production. Two generations of painters, since Gustave Courbet’s early works in the middle of the past century, had kept to the naturalistic point of view. This naturalism had found its highest development in Impressionism. Cezanne was the genius who, at the end of the eighties, led the way slowly and surely and with irresistible dat¬ ing away lrom the old tracks. With him went van Gogh in France and Munch in Norway. What is common to all follow¬ ers of these three leaders in all countries of Europe, even if they appear ever sodifferent “windmill” BY LIONEL FEININGER “the bathers” BY OTTO MULLER three sixteen JULY 9 2 2 mceRHACionAL at a first glance, is a feeling for powerful construc¬ tion, in contrast to the complete dissolution and delicate vibration in paintings of developed Impressionism and Pleinairism. Whether we look at landscape or still-life or portrait, everywhere we find the tendency to a compressing of the essen¬ tials, a strengthening of the color scheme, a more constructive composition and a withdrawing from the over-cultivated. In order to attain this end at any cost, artists began to draw away from nature in their work. They were no longer directed by the forms of nature but by the dreams of their imagination, which showed them an¬ other, stranger world, more glowing in color and weight¬ ier in form. This tendency — “strength, courage, force” — dominates all new paintings in Ger¬ many. These words may well be con¬ sidered a motto, standing as they do for the powerful and the monumental, for construction and for consistency. A few typical examples are here reproduced, which will serve to give a compre¬ hensive view of present tendencies. The landscape by Heckel has something broad and undulating in its character. The different fields are joined together as massive, distinctly separate pieces. The shapes of house and trees are taken together as one mass, strongly accentuated in the larger planes. The different parts of the picture are perfectly distinct and in its entirety it produces a sonorous, lasting, strong tone. Feininger, too, in his picture “The Windmill” tends to build up the construction of the work. The mill, in the shape of a big cone, stands in the center of the picture at the top of a ball shaped hillock. In its separate parts the work is in the cubist manner, this too being in contradistinction to the past pleinairistic style. The several parts contrast strongly, light and shade touch and overlap and the whole impression is like one WOMAN AND FLOWERS BY MAX PECHSTEIN from a dainty, smoothly working mechanism. Otto Muller shows a similar tendency in his picture of two bathing girls. If we recall Degas’ ballet dancers with their iridescent, loose shapes and colors, we notice that in this picture, too, there is a longing for more compact, more con¬ structed form in the bodies. A strong contour again encloses the separate form and detaches it from its surroundings. The anatomy no longer _ _ corresponds to nature; but in the quiet expression of these two bodies, leaning toward each other, the artist has tried to produce that frame of mind which is lacking in all every¬ day beings. The “Woman and Flowers” by Max Pechstein shows a portrait and still life in one. Through the crowded picture, with its heavily loaded planes, the neutral background only shows a little at the top left hand corner. And this heavy fullness of the composition goes hand in hand with the full forms of the body and of the still life. The woman remains slow in her movement, the face over the broad cut of the bodice looks quiet and large; the vase holds the thick bunch of heavy flowers; broad, mellow stretches of color are placed in quiet sequence over the full forms, and something ripe and pregnant speaks to us. For this reason, in spite of its robust character, “Woman and Flowers” is in reality an imaginative work. We could increase the number of examples and classify painters of all groups from this point of view. But as we only want to show the principles, these present pictures will suffice to show, on the one hand, the general tendency away from nature, the intentional disregard of naturalism in modern painting in Germany, and, on the other hand, that the common idea of the new tendency is a longing for compactness and a strengthening of the structure of the picture. JULY 1922 three seventeen mceRnAcionAL he embroidered picture repro¬ duced in color on the opposite page belongs to the second half of the XVI century, a period which, in the opinion of most students of embroidery, is the “golden age” of that beautiful art. With the advent of the Renaissance the old embroidered “stories” passed away and prominent artists were intrusted with producing designs more naturalistic and more artistically effective than the work of their predecessors. It is to this period that Farcy (La Broderie par Louis cle Farcy: Paris, 1890) refers when he says: “They progressed from perfection to greater perfection, and the artists who made embroidery their specialty began to produce admirable ‘tableaux’ of such artistic value and such con¬ siderable expense that it soon became necessary to modify the art and renounce the type, replacing them with the very inferior works in which flakes of gold and silver and coarse paillettes took the place of the often microscopic threads of the ‘golden age.’” Another author on this art, Leon cle Laborde, says of this era: “At this time embroidery became a veritable art, a serious branch of estimable painting in which the needle supplanted the brush and traveling over the cloth left behind it a veritable painting in silk and threads of precious metals. The sudden progress made in the art of em¬ broidery was partly and perhaps principally due to the wars of Charles V, those of Charles VIII, Louis XII, and Henri II. As Charles V had come in contact with the Saracenic art through his expeditions to Tunis and his Moorish provinces in Spain, so the other monarchs of Europe came in contact with Italy and Sicily through their wars. The result was that a wave of southern art swept over western Europe, especially France, bringing with it new ideas and new types in sculpture, painting and embroidery. According to Ernest Lefeburn (Broderie et dentelles: Paris, 1887) the art of embossed embroidery originated in Spain. “Some of the Spanish embroideries,” he says, “are produced in such a high relief that they represent sculp¬ tures in wood.” Such is the great “tableau” of Adam and Eve in the Musee de Cluny, the most prominent example of this kind of work known, executed with infinite skill and artistic feeling. Very few pieces of this kind of work are now in existence. In much lower relief, but in the same style, is the famous embroidery, representing a combat between a bear and dogs in the presence of Henri II and Diane de Poitier, now in the South Kensington Museum. But none can compare in spirited expression and artistic exe¬ cution with those representing “Adam and Eve” and “The Conversion of St. Paul.” The latter work is a large “tableau” in very high relief, about thirty-two inches by thirty-six inches, evidently intended to be hung on the wall or over an altar in a church. It is executed on a background of silk or linen, but the whole surface is entirely covered with thread needlework in silk, silver and gold. It represents in a most admir¬ able and naturalistic grouping the conversion of the saint while on his way to Damascus. In the sky, a little to the right of the centre, is seen Christ with outstretched arms, in the style of Raphael’s well known fresco representing the Adam and Eve, or that of Michael Angelo, repre¬ senting the creation of Eve, in the Sistine Chapel. The central part of the picture shows the confu¬ sion caused by the apparition. Moorish looking cavaliers on Arabian steeds dash forward, the centre being occupied by St. Paul who has fallen from his horse, and is now supported by one of his attendants. The horses are exquisitely drawn. The heads and faces are minutely treated, and seem to be attempts at portraiture. The dresses are distinctly oriental, except that of St. Paul and an armored soldier, who both are of a Roman type. The personages have all been struck with blindness and their expressions depict the awe experienced at the sudden manifestation of the supreme deity and the “voice.” The foreground contains a motley assemblage of minor animals, such as serpents, lizards, a lion, a boar and others of evil nature, all fleeing in terror or trying to hide in their underground holes. In contrast with these animals of terror are gentle birds, so minutely executed as to permit us to recognize the species. The smaller figures were produced directly on the background, but the larger ones were made separately and affixed. How the high relief was produced can only be conjectured, but we might presume that the filling, in order to retain its form in every detail, must have been hardened, possibly with wax. Sixteenth Century spec¬ imen in high relief rep¬ resents pinnacle of a short-lieed art ■ • In/ GUSTAVUS A.EISEN three eighteen July 1922 Dhe CONVERSION of ST PAUL Embroidered dlahlcau in high relief — of die Sixteenth Century mceRTiACionAL ean March and, but little known two years ago, is today one of the most dis¬ cussed painters of that group which might be designated as the men of .forty of the Salon d’Automne. Standing at this point of time and looking back over M. Marchand’s development and noting its relation to the main current of French art, we see how he links the pre-Manet, period with the present and how certain of the most interesting and distinctive features of the last thirty years find in his life and work a significant definition. At the vernissage of the Salon d’Automne last fall one passed from _ His art, emerging out of modernism, is expressive of the ages -old “ esprit franca is ” • • • In/ LOUI/E GEMARD CANN room to room, along the gaunt corridors of the stairways, through the Belgian section and on into the Rus¬ sian, and again into the French, with, on the whole, a sense of sameness. Apart from the variety of the for¬ eign collections, a re¬ markable adhesion to leaders was evident in the rank and file. The Salon d’Automne of 1921 marked as never before the crystalliza¬ tion of the ultra¬ modern spirit into a school, governed by as hard and fast formulae as the antiquated Art¬ istes Frangais. Egyp¬ tian browns, earth- grays, acrid greens and yellows, reds that ter¬ rify, either mumbled at us combinations of dullness “maternite” bv jean marchand ( Carnegie International Exhibition , IQ21) salons of the last thirty years. The superficial atmosphere last fall was, as usual, sardonic joy in underscoring all that is ugly, grotesque, vulgar, in the human figure and its environ¬ ment; and the somewhat tire¬ some claim of originality through violent distortions. It was as deadly monotonous as the exhibitions of the academic. I speak of the general impression. There is a deeper aspect of this movement which may be disengaged by an analysis of the art of certain of its chiefs, De Segonzac, Henri-Matisse, Flandrin, the inspired Maurice Denis, which shows both how great has been the influence of the main tra¬ dition of French art on this group and how much that is modernly ex¬ pressive, valuable and refreshing it has con¬ tributed to that tra¬ dition. But, on the whole, the salons re¬ main unities of mass- art, and the decay of what was before the war a new individual¬ istic spirit, was evi¬ denced by the unin¬ spired in-breeding of the Cezannists through imitation of one another. The amazing story of the influence of Cezanne was told in the uni¬ form brand of the manufacture. The irony of it is that an art so painfully sought out by him in isola¬ tion has become now in the ramification of the ideas and the prin- extracted from it the banged in dismal raucous reiterations. The pre¬ vailing form is the perfectly matured revolt of these days against that insipid pretense that human beings are pretty and the earth they occupy idyllic — a pretense embodied in the official * Compare with the Salon d' Automne March (1Q22) International Studio. ‘ Maternite” reproduced in the ciples vehicle for artists who refuse to seek and who are content merely to imitate. Having reached some such depressing conclu¬ sion one emerged into hall No. 2 and involuntarily paused before the picture of a young woman nursing her child. It was executed in so simple and sincere a manner that one responded immediately with : “Here is an excellent painting.” Marchand’s july 1922 three twenty-one mreRriACtonAL smmo “Maternite” bv the “les jardins en terrasse” deeply human spirit breathing from it, by its good and normal senti¬ ment, as well as by its fine plastic attainment, was a noticeable relief from the condimented, coarse, essentially flavorless mixture, which, for the most part, had been offered the public. It stood out by its style, austere and classic. After being depressed, twisted up, revolted, provoked by sheer brutality into various inhuman and at last dead¬ ening reactions, one came upon its bland surfaces, its homely composition, its easily-grasped pathos of green-gray, and its perfectly comprehensible assimilation of the volume, as if after a long and fruitless walk through the tortuous streets of Paris, one had reached a friendly roof. For as I analyze the sudden adulation of the critics, the enthusiasm of the public, I perceive that the psychology of relief, and this is in no sense to be considered detraction, has a good deal to do with the discovery of Jean Marchand. Marchand, a modest, retiring man whose lungs drive him South each winter, resumes in his life and work a typical cycle of French art. Born in 1883 of an old Parisian family that had never supposed one of its sons could become a painter, he found himself, so soon as he manifested the seriousness of his art aspirations, opposed without qualification and at eighteen left to make his way in the world unaided. Fie entered the Ecole des Beaux Arts and at the same time fre¬ quented the studios of Bonnat and Luc-Olivier M erson (1902-1906). In 1909 he studied with Henri Martin. One of his comrades in the Ecole and the studios was the now famous independent, Raoul Dufy. Monet, Sisley, Re¬ noir, were at the zenith of their fame; the “fauves,” Marquet, Henri - Matisse, Derain, Vlaminck, Othon- Friesz, were organizing in the conservatories of the Cours la Reine their first “salons without juries.” In these they honored Cezanne, distinguished the naif custom-house em¬ ployee, Henry Rousseau, and presented to the public a retrospective of Vincent Van Gogh. In 1906 we see Marchand painting the beg¬ gars asleep along the quays of the Seine, with very much the same academic ability and (to be fair) charm with which innumerable clever students ol the Ecole and the recognized ateliers have painted them for half a century and are still painting them today. In 1908 the Department ol the Seine accorded him a “student’s purse,” and in 1912 he appeared at the exposition of the bursaries in the Grand Palais with a canvas painted in 1909, “Une Avenue,” which indicated the course in painting which he would pursue during the following dozen years. You may compare this landscape, in which the trees in the conscious desire to express the aerial volume of their mass, are painted with strong and voluntary simplification, with, for example, Cezanne’s “Foret de Chantilly” (1888), in order to discover the precise kinship between Cezanne and the “fauves” of the salons without juries; for the influence of Cezanne on Marchand, as on many another pupil of the schools, craving novelty and yet foreordained to remain on the solid ground of formula, came from those who had extracted theory from the unconscious works of a man inde- fatigably seeking and realizing in a direction of which he was mainly unaware. Marchand, like his comrade Dufy and others, had been swept into the movement of the time partly by that osmosis of ideas, that contagion of fever, which hallucin¬ ates each generation into believing it is original, which makes us all reflections of our time whether we will or no. It is the mission of such groups as the learned “fauves” to squeeze out the pith and marrow of a previous period, to exhaust by varied three twenty-two JULY 1922 mceRnAcionAL experiments its logical pos¬ sibilities. They furnish the explanations of the signal genius which he himself is unable to give. By this they attain that equilibrium without which mere humanity is so uneasy, an equilibrium that rarely be¬ longs to the research-men¬ tality of the great forerunner. Marchand’s “ St. Mar¬ tin” ( 1 9 1 1 ) is a further step toward Cubism in the relief of the muscles of the nude and the play of volume through the objects of the scene. Here we have the beginning of a characteristic division of the canvas by which its plastic continuity is obtained. In simple terms, the foreground is held in equality with the background, the dis¬ tortions of perspective are denied. The struc¬ tural means to the simultaneity of the planes is a looking-up effect, the masses of the middle- ground are below what would ordinarily be the background. The movement of attention is from below, above, instead of from front to back. It repudiates the sensations of chiaroscuro, depth, horizontal space, in favor of the perpen¬ dicular, and is an evolution of the flat mosaic patterns of the primitives. You may follow it through the “Baigneuses” of 1911 and 1912, the “Vue de Ceret,” the “Laveuses” (1913) to “La Mare aux Fees” (1919) and the Provence land¬ scape of 1921. In the last the application is more reserved, and the triangle on which all the other paintings are based, a form by which he usually establishes his composition (we see it in both the “Maternites”) is less apparent. To this element he owes much of the grave, static quality of his art. In “Les Jardins en terrassee” (1922) the triangle is obscure but the looking-up is carried out with remarkable continuity of the planes, a delightful simultaneity in the way in which background and foreground have equal importance — in every respect a fine success in the form elected by him, so accomplished as to conceal the long experimental effort that lies back of the achievement. Certain affections are noticeable in the early period which have grown stronger with time. His theory of structure would naturally lead to an appreciation of surfaces, and we see how la chapelle de st. michel exhaustive are the BY JEAN MARCHAND researches into the values of surface among all Cezannists. But, as the well-known American radical of the Salon d’Automne, Mr. C. Thorndike, who himself has made some experiments along this line, as we saw in his landscape series at Bernheim’s this April, remarks of Marchand, his comrade at Vence, where the two artists work together during the winter, “Marchand is more himself than many another who has come through the storm and stress of the new movement.” Where, tor instance, an artist like Mr. Thorndike subdues the surface to the per¬ vading lyricism of his interpretations, Marchand from the beginning presents it to us in the epic style of a primitive, or with the objective classic¬ ism of a Poussin. Remarkable and altogether personal is the rendering of surface in the now famous “Chapelle de St. Alichel,” painted this winter, so much dis¬ cussed at Bernheim’s where it hangs side by side with Derain, Marquet, De Segonzac and other insurgents. We have here that transposition which began in “Les Jardins en terrasse” by the sheen of the stone steps in the center, to a vigorous modelling of earth and hills, opposed to the for¬ bidding sides of the chapel. Only through a veri¬ table passion lor such values and a deep artist’s reason for them, a sure knowledge of their pic¬ torial meaning, could lie persuade us to admit his sense of the significance of this so unpromising theme. I for one am persuaded and agree with those Marchand enthusiasts like his friend, july 1922 t h ree twenty -t b r e e inceRnACionAL SOTDt® REFUGIEE DU NORD BY JEAN MARCHAND ( Collection oj Martin Ryerson ) Thorndike, that here “Marchand is most thor¬ oughly Marchand,” that he has escaped from the decorative archaism of his earlier paintings, into a free strong expression of the world he loves. He is now at that happy stage of a man’s reputation when his partisans quarrel with his enemies, when every work exhibited by him is the occasion of an uprising of vivid for-and-against opinion among colleagues and critics. An Alexandre Arsene, reluctantly admitting “Maternite,” fumes that Marchand landscapes are “imbecile.” A Roger-Marx finds that the austerity Marchand imprints on nature is one of the prime virtues of his art and is nowise afraid of his “large nude surfaces, these silent quadrilaterals of modern buildings as tragic under August dust as in winter soot,” and feels in the landscapes by Jean Marchand of the Parisian suburbs “a poetry that no one before has ever expressed for us in painting.” Marchand is not a colorist. He uses a scale of gray in which black is a smudge, with none ol the possibilities of black as revealed by the Japanese, or by the so personal values given to it by Manet, Degas, or, to mention a contemporary, Van Dongen. His rose and lilac tend to a sweetness not always engaging. Since the time he broke away from the bitter reds, greens and yellows in opposition to heavy blues, of his landscapes of 1913 and earlier, his color, until recently, has been dirty. In “La Charmille” (1921) we remark a development of color- “femmes a la fontaine” BY JEAN MARCHAND variety through a sub¬ dued harmony in rose, honey-yellow, brown-gray, gray, black-brown and green. The blacks and the grays in the woman’s dress are luminous and the color values if not subtle are Just and pleasing. His use of golden browns in “Les Jardins en terrasse” is happy and appropriate and the blacks though sooty take their place in the color design, while the red roofs, the clear blue sky, furnish a bright freshness. It is apparent that he does not aim at “color,” and by his attainment of solidity and simplification of form, he justifies in a great measure his poverty of execution, especially as he invariably gets his effects through paint itself, never by leaving part of the canvas bare, or by any of the tricks, or strokes of luck, so many artists take advantage of. In spite of what I have previously said about a new variation of his palette in certain of the latest landscapes, I see in the portraits of this year the massing of four main colors, Egyptian brown for the flesh, un¬ marked by shadows; prussian blue in the costume, gray-olive for background, with a brown-black for hair. In others, as in the head of a peasant girl, the background is vivid green leaves, but the treatment of flesh and costume remains the same. His show at the Barbazanges galleries in November, 1921, united works dating from his early period to the present. The road he had traveled was unmistakable. Many of the devices that Vlaminck and other Cezannists had accus¬ er ee twenty-jour JULY 1922 mceRnActoriAL portraitde madame m. tomed us to were in BY JEAN MARCHAND evidence: the triangle separated into strong oblique lines to direct the eye of the spectator to those points of the canvas the artist intended to emphasize, and to hold the parts together; the framing of his landscapes in large simple masses, usually architectural, or the basing of them on the same; and in the portrait, as the “Madame M.,” a curiously Cezanne-like vision of humanity. But in the post¬ war work, the artist began to emancipate himself more and more from these formulae. He became with developing certainty an interpreter aiming at personal expression. Through this he attained style as we have seen it in the “Matermtc” of the Salon d’Automne. For the “Maternite” now in Pittsburg, though possibly a more unified work than the former, is more superficial in sentiment, more summary in execution, and not quite so uncompromisingly Marchand; that is, as we know him today. Emotion has always been one of the qualities of his work, but when subjected to the rigid theories of Cubism, it was dried and impoverished. And now his tender, brooding sentiment (which is the soul of this artist, however much he pretends to be grim) finds fuller expres¬ sion as he gradually frees himself from the tram¬ mels of a school that denies emotion. By emotion and by style he takes art back across the thirty years of experiment to the time of Courbet, to whom he is often approached, and on to the Le Nains, Poussin, or even, as many claim, so far back as Jean Fouciuet eglise de vence BY JEAN MARCHAND ol the fifteenth century. He is incontestably neo-classic; but to compare one ol his paintings with a painting of any earlier period is to learn what elements have come into French art since Manet. Marchand, revealing his race and his art- inheritance, shows, also, his personal power of assimilation. Unlike many of the followers of the Aixien, he digested Cubism. As an art of analysis it led to synthesis, and we see in him this result carried out in such a way that we feel the benefits of the movement in its insistence on simplification of form. His maxim is, “The minimum of means to win the maximum of expression — that is, emotion.” When one considers that he is not merely not a colorist but is on the whole incapable of color, that with an austere and at times harsh simplicity he persuades in us strong emotion, an emotion that becomes permanent as we revisit his wmrks, we realize how well he uses those gifts that are his. We appreciate above all that he is endowed with a sentiment for the pictorial, which has been strengthened and purified by his studies and experiments, by the influences of his genera¬ tion, but which relates him to one of the most deep-seated and the most enduring traditions of the art of lus country, for he is intrinsically a Frenchman and manifests that vital resistance, and continuity of research and individual aspira¬ tion, characteristic of the esprit Jrancais in the arts. The false naivete so prevalent since Cezanne JULY I Q 2 2 three twenty-jive mceRHACionAL has never touched him, PAVSAGE de provence BY JEAN MARCHAND and that archaism asso¬ ciated with so much recent work has entirely disappeared from his. We find increasingly the nature of the man in his paintings. He has no fancy, no affectation. His joy is like sorrow. He has a deep, sober temperament, kind, sincere, and shy. There is something of “pudeur” in Ins inter¬ pretations. His landscapes do not tell his most intimate emotion; his figures even when voluptu¬ ous are so as if the artist merely observed the fact; his nudes, in contrast to the prevailing treatment of the nude by his contemporaries, have a certain impersonal discretion. An ensemble of his can¬ vases, as at the Barbazanges, leaves one with the sensation that life in Paris is gray, dingy, a con¬ dition that provokes our utmost resistance, that exacts struggle against ugliness, fifth, poverty. Romance is out of date — some say happily — beauty is a term to avoid. But in “La Charmille,” ‘Les Jardins en terrasse,” the “Maternites” we have a softer, happier mood, and though M. Marchand has never in his entire artist life seen sunshine, he may now be unable to remain uniformly grim or sad. We know that from eighteen until the war his life was a painful struggle. He was poor, very fragile in health, and lived in comparative isola¬ tion on the Isle St. Louis. His privations did not aid his physical condition, and he thinks he would not be alive today were it not for a friend who had him spend his summers at his country place in Savoy. It was through his Russian wife, Madame Lewitska, whose incomparable wood-engravings illustrate the Gogol and kindred editions de luxe issued in Paris, that he went to the Ukraine and studied the churches and monasteries along the shores ol the Dniester. In spite of his bad health he was obliged to serve four years in the war in non-combattant work tar too heavy for his constitution. An early comrade who started in life by his side, M. Leon Marseille, a con¬ noisseur of broad sym¬ pathies and of deep art learn¬ ing, was responsible for presenting Marchand to the public through numerous exhibitions in Paris, Brus¬ sels, London, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Russia — with the result that today out of the two hundred and fifty paintings to Marehand’s credit, hardly more than half a dozen remain unpurchased. His patronage is international, including Americans like the Princess Bassiano, who owns many of his works, Colonel Martin Ryerson of Chicago, m whose collection is the line “Refugiee du Nord,” and the Japanese collector, Matsukata, along with collectors in Paris and London too numerous to mention. Marchand is thirty-eight and his work has not yet attained that fluency on which it will continue for a period before falling into the decline of over¬ maturity. As an expressive will he is still young. His creative power has developed logically from the beginning, and so we may infer lrom certain indications in his latest paintings the direction he is likely to follow in the future. In all probability this will be toward a still more personal use of his medium in the service of emotion. It is hoped by those who know his temperament that he will have the opportunity of bigger work, church and hospital decoration. In this field, in a large and epic treatment of surfaces, we may look lor unusually interesting results, in which the austerity of his color in contrast to his sensibility, or in harmony with it, will find values that are both new and unexpected. But we should listen to what the artist himself says. “After many a research first in the realm of color, second in the realm of construction, I have come to conceive of painting as outside all the modalities current during these last years, and three twenty-six july 1922 mceRHAcionAL )OTM© to reject all formulas, which in my mind end by obscuring and fettering art instead of emanci¬ pating it. I do not believe that one gives a special proof of modernity because lie paints aeroplanes or spectacles borrowed from the automobile. In a few dozen years our aeroplanes and our elevators will be singularly obsolete, and the clanger in this realm is in reconstituting a bric-a-brac of the twentieth century as there was a bric-a-brac romantic, naturalistic, sym¬ bolic. Cezanne was modern and discovered pictorial verities with provincial apples and preserve jars. Above all the current formulas is expression, and we should sacrifice everything to it, and attain it if necessary by the minimum of means. The future is not in the application of this formula of yesterday or of that of day after tomorrow, as so many of our young beginners believe, but in incessant effort guided by the need to express. I am an enemy of all eccentricities, which too often hide the common- LA CHARMII LE place and the trivial and BY JEAN MARCHAND 1 which have been too easily confounded with true originality. Renoir said> ‘A good painting doesn’t have to be hung twice.’ This epigram is a terrible accusation of certain tendencies of today. . . . Far from arresting the flight of painting toward enchanting tomorrows, I believe that only in this way shall we draw it back from commercialism.” She Sidy Cover, “Breezy Day,” by Richard Miller, which appears on the cover this month, is representative of a subject which the artist has made particularly his own. Outdoor pictures, full of light and fine color, are his special province. One of his favorite themes is a sunlit verandah with the warm light filtering through a screen, as in “The Sun Porch,” reproduced on page 344, which had the signal honor of being purchased for the permanent col¬ lection of the Carnegie Institute from its last International Exhibition. Mr. Miller’s pictures are not simply figure paintings with an outdoor background. They have a buoyancy about them which suggests the open air; they take into account the all-pervading sunlight. The girl in “Breezy Day,” with her body braced ever so slightly against the wind, and one hand lifted to restrain her hair, is presented with an easy naturalness which is one of the most conspicuous charms of his art. Richard Miller was born in St. Louis in 1875. He studied under Constant and Laurens in Paris, and in 1908 became a Knight of the Legion of Honor. His paintings are in the Luxembourg and the Petit Palais, in the museums of Antwerp, Rome, Venice and Christiania, and in the private collection of the King of Italy. Although Mr. Miller has received many honors in foreign lands, he has by no means been without recognition in his own country. His “Nude” won the Potter Palmer gold medal in Chicago in 1914, and he was awarded the Thomas B. Clarke prize at the National Academy of Design in 1915. Medals were given to him at the Buffalo, St. Louis and San Francisco Expositions, and he is repre¬ sented in eight museums throughout the country, among which are the Metropolitan, the Corcoran Gallery in Washington, the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts in Philadelphia and the Chicago Art Institute. july 1922 three twenty-seven mceRnAcionAL HIGH GLAZE PORCELAIN FIGURES FROM THE ROYAL MANUFACTORY, MEISSEN A he Lesson of G 1 i RM AN Jlpplied Jirt hen we make a survey of the art of the nine¬ teenth century, we have to ad¬ mit that, with the exception of certain schools oi painting such as the Barbizon masters, the Impressionists, the Munich Leiblkreis, to which Chase and Duveneck belonged, and a few black and white artists, especially Whistler, the art of that period sank lower and lower the nearer the century approached its end. Architecture lost every spark of individuality and copied all the old styles in turn, generally in a dull and uninspired way. The noble art of the book became showy instead of noble. The woodcut descended from its high estate to become a mere aid in illustrating. All furnishings for the home — furniture, textiles, glass, earthenware, etc. — w'ere either poor and careless imitations of earlier styles, or else they were lacking in every pretention to form and beauty. Everything succumbed to the craze of “usefulness” shorn of all grace or originality. But a revolt had to come, and it was started in England by men Exhibition brought to America serves as an inspiration to our own crafts movement * • by F.E.WASIIBL1KN FREUND GLASS BY LOBMEYER OF VIENNA representing all that was fin¬ est and best in ethics and aesthetics which the Victorian era had produced. With Ruskin as their mighty mouth¬ piece, artists like Rossetti, Burne-Jones, William Morris especially, J. F. Watts, and later Walter Crane, waged a practical campaign against shoddiness and artificiality. This movement was gradually taken up by smaller men, and finally became the special watchword of the well-known firm ol Liberty & Co. But in England there was never any real organization of these groups to combat vigorously the want of artistic feeling and even aversion to anything better on the part of the great buying and selling public. This weakness is very charac¬ teristic of the English way of working such movem ents i n d ivid ually, as was again illustrated recently, lor instance, in the effort for stage re¬ form. Thus one may constantly observe many factions, cpiite good in themselves, wearing themselves out in useless fighting, or at least attaining a merely spor¬ adic success, because each new fighter is forced to take up the three twenty-eight JULY 9 22 mceRHAcionAL DECORATIVE CANDLESTICKS FROM WENTZ AND KUHN MADE BY THE SILESIAN MOUNTAIN FOLK MODERN GERMAN CRAFTSMANSHIP IN SILVER, BRASS, COPPER AND PEWTER JULY 1922 three twenty -nin inceRHACionAL fight trom the very beginning again. In this respect, Ger¬ many, the land of organiza¬ tion, started with an advantage. Of course, in any organization of intellectual and artistic forces lurks the possibility of great harm, which has by no means always been avoided in Germany. But on the other hand, it is just in times like the present, with their strong tendency toward international industry, that the demand is all lor firm organization, and it is therefore not to be w o n d e r e d a t that Germany has for years played such an important role in science as well as applied arts, as these arts, with the exception of the greatest IVORY LOCKETS BY FRITZ SCHMOLL GLASS BY LOBMEYER, VIENNA. FLOWERS BY GERTRUD GOEHRKE. PORCELAIN AND WOOD TRAY BY DEUTSCHE WERKSTATTEN, DRESDEN achievements of the greatest men (discoveries, mental speculations, and master¬ pieces of art) have everything to gain by a co-operative and directing organization. That this was indeed the case in Germany, before the war, in regard to the applied arts, was proved here by a carefully selected travelling exhibition sent out by Mr. Dana of the Newark Museum, and shown in a number of cities of the United States, where it aroused keen interest and a cl m i r a t i-o n . And now, the exhibition just opened, again under the aus¬ pices of Mr. Dana and his enterprising Newark CERAMICS BY SCHWARZ BURGER WERKSTATTEN, DORN V. GOUTARD AND DORKAS h'arlin three thirty july 1922 mceRtiAcionAL Museum, shows that, in spite of the terrible years of the war, the same high level that was notable in the first exhibition is still maintained. Asso¬ ciated with Mr. Dana is Mr. A. Wiener, member of the Deutsche Werkhund, who has been an inde¬ fatigable worker in this field here for many years. It was at his instigation that the exhibits were selected and sent over to this country by a delegate of the “bund.” Thanks to the large circulation in Germany of the London Studio — the parent magazine of International Studio — at a time when German art magazines were few and far between, the new idea of art in the home was spread abroad in Germany also, its principal exponent being Walter Crane. The new gospel was taken up with enthusi¬ asm, especially by the artists, but the first result was a miserable miscar¬ riage, a style called “Jugend- stil,” which a number of artists and art journalists, without having first studied their subject properly and learning its possibilities and limitations, wanted to foist on the public as the modern style. This “Jugendstil” was the cause of much derision in Germany, but at length it came to be looked upon as a kind of “Jugend-illness,” a childish ail¬ ment which, like measles and whooping cough, had to be got over. For it was realized that no single little coterie of artists could simply invent a “modern style,” but that it must grow of itself out of the “Zeitgeist,” that mysterious Something which the needs of the time evolve: that is to sav, it must be born of the times, and nourished and de¬ veloped by the times if it is really to become a style. It is, as a matter of fact, neither more nor less than Nature’s great law of adaptation. It is well-known that Nature, in order to give protec¬ tion or provide for further de¬ velopments and new needs, PORCELAINS BY r.MiiisjnFNFR KF.RAMIK JULY Q22 three thirty-one tnceRnActonAL n®R© causes organisms, plants, animals and men, to grow new organs or make old ones perform new functions that have become necessary lor the preservation ol life. When, as in the present case, it is a question of the artistic and intellectual needs of man, this process ol adaptation can and will take place consciously, at least partly so, through the efforts of a few leaders pointing the way. The Deutsche Werkbund. (Union of German Art Industries), founded some fourteen years ago, is an association of such leaders whose object is to spread through all classes the movement for ennoblingand bea u t i lying surroundings. To this end they united in one organization all the elements that have to do with the art industries, that is to say, the artist and the craftsman, the manufacturer and the dealer, and of course the teacher in the schools for industrial arts (Kunstgeverbeschulen). Public buildings, dwelling houses, and last but by no means least, the factories, should be made in such a way as to elevate and stimulate the mind and please the eye, thus encouraging joy in life and at the same time joy in work. From this it can be seen that, without emphasis being laid on the ethics in the case (as the Victorians did according to the tendency of their time) here aesthetics and ethics, joy in life and good business, by no means exclude each other: that, on the contrary, business is the gainer. And once the SET OF TABLEWARE BY ROYAL MANUFACTORY, MEISSEN everyday life by creating artistic three thirty-two JULY i 9 2 2 mceRriAcionAL building itself is beautified, the con¬ tents of course must be made to match, down to the simplest kitchen utensil. Even the humble kitchen tumbler must have a graceful shape. We have no longer to listen to sermons on “style,” but three points especially must be kept in mind, they being, so to speak, the A. B. C. of the Applied Arts, out of which, quite naturally, the style of the time will develop. These points are: quality of work, genuineness of material, and development of the form in accordance with the char¬ acter of the article, thus preventing all superficial and forced ornamen¬ tation or concealment oi construc¬ tive parts. Everything strives toward genuineness, that is, in the ethical sense, honesty. Sham in any form is avoided. Machine made work must be quite openly machine made, and not try to pose as hand made. Machine work can and ought to be genuine in its own way and well formed. For that reason, trained artists and craftsmen must be called in, not, indeed, to the disadvantage of the manufacturer. On account of its cheapness, machine work has become absolutely necessary now-a-days, so that one of the most important problems of the whole new movement is: how to raise the standard of machine work within the scope ol its possibilities. To fight against it and sing only the praises of hand PORCELAIN FIGURES BY GMUN- DENER KERAMIK, DEUTSCHE WERKSTATTEN. BLOWN GLASS ANIMALS BY R.L.F. SCHULZ. IVORY LOCKETS BY FRITZ SCHMOLI. PORCELAINS BY ROYAL MANUFACTORY, MEISSEN. VASE BY KERAMISCHE WERKSTATTEN SCHLEISS. GMUNDEN work, as the Victorians used to do, would be love’s labor lost, and would mean giving over the great mass of the people, who are forced to depend on machine made things, forever to taste¬ lessness and shoddiness. When, for example, thou¬ sands of years ago, the potter’s wheel was first invented, no one shunned its use, and things were no longer shaped by hand alone. And vet the most charming jugs and jars were created. It is the same with the machine now. It should be a servant, doing the bidding of the artist worker who knows its limitations and possibilities. Anyone who visits the Newark exhibition and looks about him with observing eyes, will quickly july 1922 three t hi rty-th ree mceRnACionAL sram® recognize what has been wrought in Germany by this movement during the last fifteen years or so. He will find a number of quite simple articles in glass, porcelain, etc., which can only be called “genuine” machine made wares, intended for large sale. But then he will also note that the hand of the artist has been busy in all branches ot everyday life. He will see the book with its charming or sombre binding, as the case may be, and the exquisite paper lining, specially designed bv an artist; he will note that the type reminds him of the best periods of printing, and will enjoy reading a page made most inviting by reason of the perfect proportioning of printing, spacing, and margin. Then there are articles in brass and iron, hammered by hand, the difference in the two metals being finely utilized to gain certain effects. Some table silver is quite original in design, but well adapted to its purpose. Beau¬ tiful ceramics — vases, plates, etc. — charm the eye with their shape, glaze and color. Amongst them are some which deserve special notice, because, in the simplicity of their design, they resemble very closely the best Persian examples and also the old Pennsylvania Dutch plates and platters, the delight of all connoisseurs when they came up for sale by auction in New York recently. As there can hardly be any question of influence, this is surely a proof of the unity of all art of all times, in as far as it is really art. In porcelain there are groups of animals, quaintly convention¬ alized instead of showing the foolish error of trying to be realistic in a material which, through its very nature, demands stylistic treatment, because its chief attraction lies in its brilliant glaze and color and the stimulus it gives the artist to expand in a rhythmical flow of line. Of glass articles there is a great variety, some of such lustrous blue color and beauty of shape that they remind one of the old Stiegel glass which is so greatly valued here now and brings such high prices, going back as it does to the old German art ot colored glass. Amongst the glass exhibits are some very finely shaped things by Czech artists, to whom, as well as to the Aus¬ trians, a friendly hospitality was extended, the Deutsche Werkbund having been also open to workers of the former Austro-Hungarian mon¬ archy. Amongst other interesting exhibits are articles in wood and plaited straw, which bear the character of their material with, one might almost say, modest pride; batiks in beautiful patterns and brilliant colorings, handsome artificial flowers of silk and velvet in conventionalized patterns, making exquisite trimmings for hats, etc.; beaded handbags beautifully worked in rich subdued tones; leather goods and textiles in great variety. Everything expresses the same spirit, the same desire to ennoble and beautify the daily life by art, which alone can give us the inner harmony we are all longing for as a means of escape from the demoralization ol the present day. 01 dolls, there is quite a variety, amongst them, however, none of those inane wax speci¬ mens with their foolish empty smiles. Compared with them, how charming are the Rathe Kruse dolls which, like all real children, have their own individual characters! Expressionism has even invaded “doll-land!” There are expressionistic dolls, fashioned after figures of primitive peoples, some weird, some cunning, some pathetic! Finally our attention is claimed by glass painting, of which, unfortunately, there are only a few examples in the exhibition. This art, as well as the art of mosaics, plays an important part in the artistic hie ot the Germany of today, especially as they have both adopted, more or less, the expressionistic style in their designs, inspired by the marvellous old stained glass win¬ dows of the Middle Ages. An extremely interest¬ ing piece of work, sent by Heinersdorf, Berlin, the most important factory of its kind in Germany, is a “Pieta,” severely grand in design. This panel represents an attempt to capture the peculiar effects of stained glass windows (especially the austerity of style caused by the division of the glass into compartments by the lead tracery) at night when the glass cannot let light through it and can only reflect light falling on it. The panel shows, in a way similar to the impasto of an oil painting, ups and downs on its surface, which cause a vivid play of light and shade and greatly enhance the effect. This and other works show how untiringly they experiment over there, in order to find out new means and methods. Only in this way is stagna¬ tion avoided and Goethe’s wise saying becomes truth: “Wer immer strebend sich bemiiht, den konnen wir erlosen” (He who strives always, will be saved). Mr. Dana and his assistants have brought about this exhibition for the express purpose of stimulating the excellent movement, started here recently, for raising the standard of American applied arts, the visible signs of which are the creation of The Art Center in New York and the hearty support given to the movement by such institutions as the Metropolitan Museum. Com¬ parison is the best teacher. So the exhibition will help to stimulate the demand that art here in America develop along lines ol vigorous originality. three thirty -j our july 1922 mreRnAcionAL With the announcement that Sir Joshua Reynolds’ jamous portrait oj Mrs. Siddons, known as “The Tragic Muse,’’ has passed into the permanent possession of Mr. Henry E. Huntington, of California, comes the truly extraordinary circumstance of there now being in the United States the two supreme examples of the British school oj portraiture of the eighteenth century. Gainsborough’s “ Blue Boy,” first of these two immortal canvases acquired by Mr. Huntington, represents the highest technical qualities of that school. The tribute Reynolds paid Michael Angelo in composing his picture after the sibyls in the Sistine Chapel “is so consummate,” as Armstrong says in his biography of Sir Joshua, “as to justify the plagiary.” JULY 922 three thirty -five ^)K> tnteRnAcionAL :a®B© America prefers In ness to Corot “O’hc SPIRIT (/AUTUMN (jconje jnness “ His best work was ever accomplished at white heat and under great emotion,” wrote Elliott Daingerfield oj George Inness and his method oj working, adding: “ Many canvases which have come down to us in their beauty and glowing glory cost him days of exquisite agony, so that we may truly say of them that they were painted with heart’s blood.” Since his fellow artist knew Inness more intimately than most men, be has ample authority for this statement, rhetorical though it may read. Yet it was part of Inness’s great talent that be kept all evidences of these stresses of feeling out of his paintings; and never more so than in this superb creation, “ The Spirit of Autumn,” which was recently sold to a Chicago collector by the Howard Young Galleries, the canvas having been one oj the gems of the collection of the late Mrs. Potter Palmer. The price paid for it, $60,000, makes a new record for a modern American painting and shows how far Inness has gone in appreciation as the leader of our native landscape school. “The Spirit of Autumn ” was painted in i8qi, when Inness was sixty-six years old and three years before his death — the year in which be also gave to the world the exquisite picture called “ The Trout Brook.” All the wealth of Inness’s profound study of nature and the infinite grace of bis art are combined in this masterpiece of American landscape painting. three thirty-six JULY 1922 xi &>■ PORTRAIT o/MISS IRENE DOBSON h' jVLilhe rJ3 rukl C? rednch, ^ mreRHACionAL .9 mm BRICKLAYER to SCULPTOR n the woods above the cease¬ less pounding ol the North Sea, a little boy lay listening. The pounding of the sea, all alone in the woods, sets one to thinking. He thought of all sorts of things, but most of all of the funny faces and figures ot the people that came to his father’s truck farm. There was old Granny Peterson, who walked very slowly with her cane, but got there just the same. There was the blacksmith with his leather apron, and old Mr. Olson, who no longer farmed because he had already laid by quite a few gelders, and no longer had to. There was his own old father too, with the hunch coming on his back, who went on planting just the same year after year, sun and rain alike. And there was the neighbor girl who came to see his big sisters, who looked very calm and sensible when she was in the house, but he had seen her mad as any¬ thing out all alone on the hills in the Spring. Spring made him feel that way, too. Now and then the boy got up and pulled and hacked at young bushes till he tore them out of the skraggy earth and then he fell to carving the knobs on the ends of them into faces, with his jackknife, and the lumps that the roots made he used for noses, for that made it easier. The boy was one of many children. They giggled and sang together, but the laughing went quickly; lor about them was always the large solem¬ nity of great brown fields and the sunrise and the ceaseless pounding of the sea. The oldest brother went off to Germany to learn a trade, and came back knowing all about flowers and plants, but with a cough that never left him but grew worse and worse: and than a second brother left home and he too came back with the cough and the red cheeks. The little brother watched them, growl¬ ing thinner and thinner, with a sort of awe, and he knew' from things he was not meant to hear in the house, but did hear, that some time these brothers w'ould go away, and a great and nameless dread came down upon the lad, which sat always about him. And the mystery of death mingled in his mind with the miracle ol Spring which he saw in the trees overhead, and in the awkward peas¬ ant girl, who became live as the winds that swept past her. When the Swedish lad reached seventeen he came over to America. America is very different. Here too are sun and wind and stars and the storms of winter, and man fighting as ceaselessly against the fate that engulfs him, but the old thoughtful clays in the pines, with the sea beneath beating out its eternal challenge, were gone. What he saw here, in the cities, was man fighting against man. Outside was the jest and the laughing, just as in the farm home back in Sweden, but beneath a sombre tragedy — the knotted hands, the bent back, the dulled face of labor, working on unseeing, dumbly, in the grip ot a destiny whose purpose it could not see. When a thing comes straight from the heart of the people, it speaks straight to the heart ol the people. When Ben Anderson, young St. Paul bricklayer, with roots still gripping deep the sombre peasant soil of Sweden, began to carve out with his jackknife rude figures of the old home folks about the farm, men knew, crude though they were, that here was something which art schools had not taught and could not teach. In them the soul of a people spoke, When Ben Anderson of St. Paul began taking prizes he had neoer had a lesson . by a- GRACE E. POLK. a “granny,” a subject which MR. ANDERSON LATER PAINTED, AFTER CARVING IT FROM BASSWOOD JULY IQ22 three thirty -nine inceRnActonAL scum© “a conversation” A SKETCH OF SWEDISH TYPES, CARVED IN PINE BY BEN ANDERSON gropingly, unsure of its medium, but with humor and poetic vision. Young Mr. Anderson felt his way slowly. Certainly no man ever an¬ swered the inner voice of art less self¬ consciously than this young Swedish American workman. He came to St. Paul when he was seventeen: a sister lived there: that was the only reason he chose that city rather than another: he is twenty-three now. He became a bricklayer to earn his living. “It you are always looking, and looking, you must remember,” he says with a dialect that bears strongly the stamp of Sweden. That is what he himself was doing, always looking and looking. As he worked he watched the men about him bent under the load of mortar, or the heavier load of ances¬ tral toil. At night he went home, drew off “the breath of rude sketches of the spring, carved IN WALNUT, BY things he had seen, ben anderson and then he began to cut them out in wood with his jackknife. Sometimes, as he laid brick on brick, some worker would greet the morning sun with a snatch of song, and then suddenly would come back to him some bit of old memory of that inti¬ mate life there in Sweden, but linked now, through the widening vision of manhood, with all the world; and these glimpses of what was, or was to be, he sought at night to embody in wood. Because it was the folks that lived about his father’s farm that he knew best, old Granny Peterson, limping along on her cane, the garrulous blacksmith, his own father bent with the age of generations sowing in the field, it was usually these old-world types, etched deep into his boyhood memory, that he recreated to embody the new vision that life was teaching him. In the fall of 1920, Ben Anderson took some of his wood carvings to the Minnesota state fair, at which artists from all over the state exhibit. He had never had a lesson in sculpture in his life, but in the “students’ class” at the fair he was awarded second place. The following fall he again exhibited and was awarded first prize. A month later he entered “The Hod Carrier” in the annual exhibition of Twin City artists and won second place. He carved it out entirely with his pocket-knife, being unfamiliar with the use of wood carvers’ tools. At the annual exhibition of the Minnesota State Art Society, which has just closed in St. Paul, Mr. Anderson’s “Evil” received first award. Since he first exhibited twenty months ago, Mr. Anderson has taken a few even¬ ing lessons in drawing. They constitute his artistic training. Ben Anderson does his work in the basement of his sister’s house. He is a fast worker, but not a prolific one. A figure in soft wood he carves in six or eight hours. Once done, he sets it on his bureau or puts it away in his trunk. He has never st>Id, nor tried to sell a thing. He has vague ideas of their value. From the jackknife with which he worked up to a few months ago, he has changed to a set of six carvers’ tools. He changes his woods continually, feeling for something that will express the mood of the figure on which he is working. He has carved in pine, bass, cedar, birch, walnut and mahogany. Walnut he calls three j or ty JULY' 1922 mceRnACionAL the wood of mystery. It was from walnut that he carved his figure “Evil,” which received the Min¬ nesota State Art Society award. He has not yet learned to pick his block of wood with technical care and defective spots have sometimes marred the finished carving. In “The Hod Carrier” a happier chance made a black streak in the wood appear like the dripping from the mortar. In working he blocks out only the height, then commences carving. Working in this informal way occasionally results in his figures not being well proportioned or well set on their pedestals, but in general he is remarkably sure of their plac¬ ing and of their bulk proportions. To this young sculptor’s mind, the ability to think in three dimensions must come naturally. The figures which he evokes from blocks of wood are seen first in his mind “in the round.” When he makes a drawing for one of them it is more in the nature of a memorandum, a means by which the idea is prevented from escaping until it emerges, in sculptured form, from the inarticulate wood. Art critics who knew nothing of his personal history would probably class Ben Anderson as a modernist. His work exhibits the lack of detail and much of the disregard of form which has become the affectation of the moment. But the purpose behind it is quite different. Mr. Anderson knows nothing of artistic “schools” modern or an¬ cient, nor of their pronouncements. II his figures appear hewn out rudely, it is not through conscious distortion of form, to an inti¬ mate knowledge of which he has attained by laborious study, but because, through individual tendency, he sees things large, or, in the fullness of seeing the spirit behind them, scarcely sees them at all. Unaffectation and sincerity characterize his work. For this reason an added interest attaches to Mr. Anderson’s art, and a serious conjecture as to whether the similarity it has so far shown to the work of the modern¬ ists is a proof of their contentions, or merely a striking artistic coin¬ cidence. Is it true that meticulous academic training, as the modern¬ ists maintain, impairs the native vigor and spontaneity of the work “the hod carrier” CARVED IN BIRCH, BY BEN ANDERSON - ONE OF HIS PRIZE-WINNING STUDIES of man’s hand? There is interesting corroboration in the art of primitive peoples the world over. Or is the fact of the matter the simple truth that this un¬ schooled artist has so great an artistic message to convey, that adequate means of expression come naturally to his hand? Here, too, the past history of art could furnish much substantiation. And disre¬ garding the method, or the technique, it seems as though Mr. Anderson’s work, even these first essays, exceeds in merit much modernistic work simply because he really has something to say. And there is a constantly growing belief that the artist’s message is more important than the manner in which he conveys it. There is heart and mind behind it and that rare power to see man in relation to his destiny which is of the essence of genius. His workmanship is crude, his knowledge of his medium is imperfect, but so fresh, so strong, so spiritual and imag¬ inative is his vision, that it is doubtful, should he go to school and learn the intimate knowledge of construction that he lacks now, if he could ever again quite recapture this BEN ANDERSON, THE UNTAUGHT WOOD SCULPTOR OF SWEDEN AND ST. PAUL JULY I922 three forty-one mceRnAcionAL SOTDE© above: “the old planter,” A VITAL AND IMAGINATIVE PORTRAYAL IN CEDAR, OF OLD AGE, BY BEN ANDERSON naivete and the eagerness of a child. He must work at his trade of bricklaying be¬ cause he must earn a living, and toward this fact of his existence he has not the least bitterness. In the midst of his work, an idea comes to him. “I seem to be dreaming,” he says. And then he can scarcely get home fast enough to begin to put the thing which he has seen into wood. With his chisels he works half the night and is as happy as happy can be. The spirit that broods over his work is one of mystery and the seasonal passing of the years as they come upon men, but in his own personality is reflected neither mystery nor brooding nor any sense of war with his own destiny. He seems just a simple, quiet boy, still uncon¬ scious that to him as to few has been given rare poetic vision and the gift to visualize it in wood. Another artistic trait is revealed in the fact that he knew instinctively the medium best suited to the art within him. Into the art of the North¬ west, with his crude but imagin¬ ative carvings, Ben Anderson has brought a new thing, whose spirit rises to the young North¬ west but whose roots are twined deep into the soil of an old- world tragedy. left: “evil,” CARVED IN WALNUT BY BEN ANDERSON A PRIZE-WINNING STUDY IN A RECENT EXHIBITION first fresh and vivid inspirational vision of his. Not a little of the secret of these vigorous carved figures comes from this unimpaired freshness of their spirit, a freshness which could not but have revealed certain modifica¬ tions, certain reti¬ cences if they had been produced under academic direction. To work in this way, however, is the privilege only ol the true artist. Thus, lack of artistic schooling, which could not but be a serious handicap to the many, is, perhaps, an actual advant¬ age to Air. Ander¬ son. Certainly it assures an unusu¬ ally direct approach lor the artist. His work is not seen through the possibly deceptive patine of mere technique, and for this reason it seems nearer to our comprehension — seems tc bring the artist much closer to his public. As in all art of real signi¬ ficance, the wood sculpture of Air. Anderson is to a consider¬ able extent a revelation of the man whose hand produced it: his vision, his old-world heritage and his reactions to life are all unequivocally expressed in the vigorous work of his hand. Ben Anderson’s philosophy of life is very simple. It is given to few to retain into manhood the straightforwardness, the three jorty-two JULY 1922 mceRnAcionAL “tanz “tiere” Silhouette cutting is not to be considered one of the major arts; but when a designer comes forward with indisputably the fin¬ est works that have been achieved in any particular medium, the world is likely, figuratively, to wear a beaten path to his door. And when bis work is so spirited, so diverting and so sheerly decorative as the accom¬ panying illustrations of “Shadowcuts” by Ernst Moritz Engert, the world is likely to stop long for appreciation, enjoy¬ ment and, in this case, amusement. Of the special qualities that distinguish Engert’s designs, the most “flotespieler” conspicuous is a highly stylized decorative hand¬ ling, a shaping of the chosen subject into a black-and-white pattern instinct with movement, delicate grace, even ele¬ gance. There is an utterly sophisticated note, not only occasionally in the subject-matter, but almost everywhere in the exagger¬ ation of flourishes and in a clever sort of rhythmic attenuation. But the artist always respects his medium; he never leaves the flat to attempt things that might be done better in more serious media, but always works by posteresque mass, by the revealing profile line, by decorative contour. “diana” Illustrations from booklet, “Ernst Moritz Engert,” published by Zingler’s Kabinett, Frankfurt JULY I922 three fo r ty -three inceRnActonAL I Kree Pictures from I hree Nations The Carnegie Insti¬ tute buys them from its 1922 Inter¬ nation at Exh i bit ion The traditional museum aim to have “representative” works of individual painters in its permanent collection is seldom more completely achieved than in the acquisi¬ tion by the Carnegie Insti¬ tute oj the canvases by Bes- nard, Lavery and Miller, reproduced on this page. Already owning one oj Lavery’s works, the institute now comes into possession for the first time oj pictures by Besnurd and Miller, each work being rich in the per¬ sonal qualities oj the individ¬ ual painters. “the convalescent” by sir john lavery Anecdotal, in the true British convention, and rich in color, this composition has the true touch of Lavery whimsy in the reflection of the man in the mirror. “THE SUN porch” BY RICHARD E. MILLER Feminine charm being Miller’s chief aim in his paintings in this vein, he has achieved this to the full in his graceful figure dappled with sunlight. ‘‘UNDER THE willow” BY ALBERT BESNARD The great French tradition of sound workmanship is illustrated in this painting, as well as Besnard’s good, true drawing and ringing, luminous color. three forty-four july 1922 mteRHAcionAL IT /S’ Gfuy tPhie JzlBOIS here are probably very few good reasons why any new venture in any field should need an introduc¬ tion. Most people leap over them as they might hurdles in order to get into the desired field immediately. This one will require only a gentle step. The introducer has no faith in it himself. If the new department which it introduces does not make its aim plain to the least astute reader the introduction will seem to be nothing short of a crutch. It is perhaps in this instance merely an answer to tradition, the blowing of a herald’s horn. The king approaches rapidly. He may leave in the same time. He is, at best, a symbolical king with a message to deliver to a symbolical people. It is even possible that the king, the message, the people are myths. Myths are given no reason by faiths. And the message, in this case the fact of real importance, aims to do a thing which in very many cases it is impossible to do. It aims to hitch art to life. Galsworthy in one of his satires described an artist who, whenever he found himself becoming inter¬ ested in life, looked away in fear that he might contaminate his art. Hugo in the same way aimed to preserve the purity of his French by refusing to learn another language. The present generation has another way of looking at it — that’s all. Hambidge. The former for color, the latter for construction. It is a point of importance that neither of these men has produced in art anything worth bothering about. It is also a great point that neither of these men made their researches in life: that both of them made them in art. They are in this, like the sheep who follow them, dilet¬ tantes who find in art a refuge from life. One ol my old professors once said, and is probably still saying to male disciples, that the way to being an artist is through manhood, or in order to become an artist you must first be a man. The trouble with that prescription is its simplicity. It is direct, plain, straightforward and in a republican country politic, for here it will make no end of romantic appeal. But it is only by inference that one arrives at his definition of “man.” It is quite likely that his definition is the common one in a republican state. Before the realization of the republican, which is to some extent the Christian ideal, there were men and gentlemen. The men were treated like cattle the others like kings. MAMA BY LOUIS S BOY BOUCFIE My professor’s “man,” as I remember him, was patterned after Courbet and colored with rich tints ol paint from Millet’s romantic pot. In America he became something of a swashbuckler, a loud talking hearty sort ol laker ordinarily designated, <§> <§> <§> 1 he professions of painting and sculpture are full of similar examples which come in the form of systems and are dealt in with a blind faith by every sort of art interest- The high priests of the systems most popular today are Maratta and and with an effort at praise, as a rough diamond. He was never given credit lor much aestheticism. He saw things squarefy, or would have, had his eyes not been dimmed by a notion that he must uphold the ugly. Art in its search tor beauty had overlooked that. He was really determined to be, at whatever the cost, the champion of july 1922 three for tv -Jive mceRtiACionAL smmo the downtrodden. Besides that, life was most manifest where its veneer was thinnest. People were wrong about beauty. It is not fine feathers that make fine birds nor important pictures. It seems to me that beauty, except derisively, was never mentioned in this pro- lessor’s classes. The pupils heard that, were a real man ever admitted into the gossamer and artificial laces ol a society parlor, he would soon be found armed with truth ruthlessly ripping them apart. It was important to be unimpressed by Chesterfield’s letters to his son. Style is false¬ hood. The plain man here took on the character of a propagandist. His fight against one ideal was made in order that another might be favored. The other as a contradiction of the first was cut in the same cloth. A formal style, in other words, was to be displaced by an informal style. Man was asked to discard his top hat for a cap, his stiff shirt for a soft one, his wilful reserve for an equally wilful contradiction of reserve. The observe and the reserve sides, these two, of the same medal. <§><§><§> The illuminating thing here is that the artist, whether he is or is not a man, cannot get a very clear picture of nature through glasses colored or befogged by a philosophy or that man is not more man in a soft than in a stiff shirt. It is moreover, quite generally understood that the man of action is rarely a man ot vision. Artist really means a man of vision. It must be unquestionable that he will cloud his vision in the dust of combat. <§>•§> #> Nothing is truer than that professors, like borrowed philosophies, arm their pupils against vision, protect them from the shock of a new adventure or from the sight of a naked thing. Philosophically, professorial direction or dicta¬ tion is at its worst destructive and at its best dangerous. This point could be applied as a cor¬ rective, if we sought to be didactic, either to the New York school of realists, little grandchildren of the Impressionist figure painters, or to the nation’s monumental sculptors. The war is keep¬ ing the latter busy today. Both begin work with an a priori vision. Both advance upon their sub¬ ject having settled their questions in the easiest way, which is to say settling them before discover¬ ing what they are. In the matter of monumental sculpture, governments resemble the most didactic of professors. So much is this true that good war memorials are usually those which have slipped, like the Victory of Michelangelo (wherein he permitted despair to enter the face of triumph), past momentarily blunted eyes of censors. It may be, however, only in theory that these censors are the most vicious of watch dogs. In America usually they are merely stupid. Their job is really to commemorate a past war with their eyes upon a future war. do judge lrom recently completed monuments, while they have succeeded in keeping back any suggestion of the horror of war, they have done next to nothing in picturing its glory. Even flag Hying and drum beating and the gor¬ geous uniforms essential to the maintenance of a large army in times of peace are, at least from the point of a war minister, preferable to the com¬ promises which are now being set up in so many city squares. <§><§><§> The fact is that it is not easy to produce art while making it the tool of propaganda. Le Brun trying to prove the magnificence of Louis XIV with the sole assistance of intellect, turned to the grandiloquent gestures of Italy in decadence. His evidence has not the force today of La Valliere’s simple but inspired “Le Roi Soleik” La Valliere was a lover and Le Brun a press agent. He makes the exaggerated statements of a circus circular. He was afraid to say too little. He said far too much. Le Brun was not sincere and the boss was awfully used to flattery. Government is a similar boss. <§><§><§> Systems in art are also of the same nature. They are a medicine by which invalids attempt to gain strength, direction to muddle-pates lost without a green line to follow. <§> <#> <§> The fight against MacMonnies’ Civic Virtue, now somewhat ancient, is raised by people so without vision that they must borrow a systematic one. It is said by these people that Liliom is a bad play because a woman is hit in it; that the mercy of He’s poison in Andreyeff’s play was sin¬ ful because it produced death. The artist as a seer should be beyond such stupid adherence to dogma. He must be beyond or beside the con¬ temporary philosophy. He must be a spectator. The popular artist pays for his popularity in the philosophic small change of the epoch. It is probably as mistaken to consider him insincere as to consider him valuable. He is a mirror flattering nothing not trivial. But that it is a mistake to suppose that his records of his time are true is three forty-six JULY 1922 mceRnAoonAL proved by those, so ironically misunderstood, which are produced by men able to perceive an artificial crust and thus able to remove it. The heart of the soldier is beneath his regimentals and his discipline. His salute is a falsehood bred by system. <§><§><§> American art, like any other national art, may be divided into camps studded with trees neither more nor less alike than those of any little wood. In any ol these camps, as in any wood, the men live on the same ground and in the same air with the same degree of intellectual and intuitional refreshment. Their exchange of ideas must be mitigable, a thing depending for variety upon individual vagary. How long the latter may stand the buffeting of the community is merely a ques¬ tion of time. The dominant vagary is certain to win the others over. Our mistake is probably in that we trouble about the others. Indeed all the sentimentalists of today’s world are drawing frightful pictures of individualities being lost in the quicksands of communal thought. This as though the world could be run on anarchistic principles or, as though every trilling little vagary could live with hardier plants outside a hot house. The men whose heads are lifted above the level of others are alone of importance. It doesn’t matter that as they bob up there is a general tendency to push them down again. It matters neither as we nor as they are concerned. <§><§>•§> If this department were to be conducted solely for the purpose of riddling the misconcep¬ tions made out of the didacticisms of the pro¬ fessors ol art it might go a long way. It might, for one good piece of slum work, free a great many students of painting from the bonds in which they now glory. And, for another, it might prove to certain youthful extremists that the independence shown in deserting one school for another was, at best, negligible. But then it is entirely possible that we are all woven into the same fabric and that the only ones ol us who become of impor¬ tance are those threads which through some defect make a visible knot in the cloth. These are, at least, the noticeable ones. They are certainly those which the weaver of our time is unable to completely subjugate. <§><$><§> At the time of the second election of Wilson to the Presidency it was said that the West had turned the tables and that it was now stronger than the East. The succession of smile weeks and clean up weeks and music weeks which have come to us since that time would seem to prove the Justice of this assumption. Philadelphia, quite recently, in order, probably, to show its intel¬ lectual superiority in the choice ol boom matter over the West inaugurated an art week. During that week all the studios were open to everybody and pictures were shown in the windows of a great many shops along the main thoroughfares. That there should have been considerable tremulous¬ ness among the painters who lent pictures for display in the shop windows is inevitable. At the annual exhibition of the Whitney Studio Club two pictures were removed by painters who did not like the way they were placed. Several years ago another painter slashed a picture of his at an exhibition in the National Arts Club because as it was hung it could not be seen to the best advantage. These are only two examples of arbi¬ trary action in cases where painters considered themselves or their works misused. However, a Portugese sailor by Hawthorne could look well in a fish shop, or to get back to Philadelphia, one of Garber’s fernlike trees at a florist’s. <§><§><#> It is said, probably by the dogs who do not wear distinguishing collars, that the so-called official art in New York City is being run by an organization that resembles Tammany Hall in many particulars and especially in the dispensing of privileged places. To this organization is given the credit or the discredit, for this is a country where restraining combinations are prohibited, ol managing in some particulars three other organi¬ zations, two of which are described by the same adjective as a famous cash register and a biscuit company and with as much reason. It is almost impossible to prove that the repeated derogatory yaps of these coliarless and apparently ownerless dogs were not inspired by a famous green monster who stalks the world putting venomous words into the mouths most in need of such comfort. That these are otherwise idle words is just as true as that to mix blue and brown is a silly way to produce black. No one certainly will have the temerity to attempt to show any precedence or any truly intellectual or really impartial analysis lurking behind these attacks. They are essentially ridiculous, the bricks of a house without founda¬ tion. The collarless and ownerless dog would seem to the casual observer to be the only free dog. Why should he, therefore, in art, on one side gloriously proclaim his independence and on the other attack his brothers, his less fortunate jui.y 192 three forty-seven mceRnAcionAL brothers, who with a wilful acknowledgment of their weakness travel around in protective packs? <§> <$> To go on with the rumors which make a stir in those art circles where the commonplace of the work of art is no longer able to, a recent unofficial meeting of the New Society has created many whispers. These are so faint that it is difficult to catch them. With probably many omitted words and ideas they run somewhat in the way that follows. An attempt was made to get those members of the New Society who belong to the National Academy to resign from the National Academy. That much is quite plain. It is more¬ over a thought which probably originated outside the Society for the Society was organized merely as an exhibiting body. The whisperers, in any case, do not make the answers to the request very plain. It is probable that they were so com¬ plicated and compromised by contradictory state¬ ments that they left only a confused impression upon the minds of those whose patience permitted hearing them through. Since there have been no resignations from the Academy, only curiosity with respect to the reasons for the refusals could make it essential that a greater detective than this writer be called in. The point raised will make one think of those painters who are afraid to be considered either too radical or too con¬ servative and who while progressing retain bridges on which to retreat. Cautiousness in the middle classes is a virtue. However, the rami¬ fications in the machinery of art politics can be of interest to art lovers only as they reflect upon the nature of the work of the artists who are directly concerned in them. When Whistler laid aside his brushes to hold a pen he sought to attack an existing institution or idea which seemed to him to be driving against the production of art or against its more sensible appreciation. One of his disciples over here who seems to have misunderstood him and is in this place an example of value, wields a pen, rather malicious than vital, in order either to carry on the shell of the master’s tradition or to get himself into print. The writer prefers the first of these two reasons because it suggests reverence and because reverence is an old world virtue which seems to be dying even in China. <§><§> <§> One difference between the official painting of France and America worth mentioning is that, while the American devotes himself entirely to the production of a work which he considers art, the Frenchman feels that while producing art he must still entertain those people to whom art is a negligible quantity. The result of this practice in a Salon brings an attendance composed, in a fairly large majority, of people whose aesthetic reactions, when they have any, are still to be aroused. II it does not draw a great many art lovers it does draw a great many people who might become art lovers and, whether this is true or not, enough people so that the idea of art be¬ comes a vital factor in the life of the nation. This difference quite naturally carries beyond the con¬ fines of art. The traditional American feels that his mere presence in a social gathering is sufficient compensation for the chair or the standing room or the tea alloted him. Fie mutters something about his golf, fishing, business and lets it go at that. The average American painter sits before a landscape to copy it. If he should happen to instill a mood into his copying so much the better; il not, the picture, since the brush marks are so well put down, will be hung anyway. The subject? Well, a house and a hill and trees and, for good measure, a river. These props will be recorded with the fidelity of a good reporter sent out to collect facts and forbidden to comment upon them. The French Salon painter tries to lend an interesting aspect to his collected facts. In the first place he collects more of them. In the second place these are collected with great care. In the third place they are put together so that the spectator will be, through shock, surprise, imag¬ ination, or ingenuity, entertained. While our man is a reporter the Frenchman is an editorial writer. All this would seem to lead almost inevitably to a little exhibition of the work of Louis Bouche which was held at the Daniel Gallery recently. Mr. Bouche might be called an enjant terrible. He is not a French Salon painter. But he is frightfully afraid to be a bore. Back a few generations, you find something analogous in Manet’s penchant for painting barmaids and other figures that contemporary art lovers found disturbing, but which now never cause an eye to blink. Mr. Bouche’s pictures are full of things which, whether shocking, which they sometimes are, or not, are always amiably discursive. He cannot look around him with the dull eyes of the man who puts carpentering above hie. He has definite reactions from life. He is full of zest for the funny things which are to too many of us com¬ monplaces and for those ideas, not always conventional, which romp in a young man’s head. More power to him. Now, as always, mankind needs the lively sort of vision that is his. three forty-eight july 1922 mceRHACioriAL §mm® An Eighteenth Century French tapestry, one of a series of “ Mythological Scenes,” pre¬ sented to Francis III oj Lorraine by Louis X V. The scene portrays Venus, Psyche and Amor, and is a free adaptation in the style of the Eighteenth Century of Raphael’s famous fresco in the Farnesina, Rome. A Sixteenth Century Flemish tapestry showing Pluto and Proserpine. The four small medallions give the story of Proserpine, in the Four Seasons. In Spring Ceres brings Proserpine to Minerva: in Summer, Pros¬ erpine is decorated with flowers by her play¬ mates: in Autumn she takes leave of her mother, Ceres; and Winter shows the rape of Proserpine by Pluto, who carries her off to his dark kingdom. The tapestry thus nar¬ rates a tale which would otherwise have required a series of four. This is one of a series called “The Cano¬ pies,” on account of the arched enframement which appears in all as a setting for the main scene. The tapestry is richly inter¬ woven with gold and silver threads, and the design, both for its style and its spirit, could be ascribed to a pupil of Raphael. -V k VIENNA I IOFBURG TAPESTRIES The new regime will re¬ tain its old treasures for the people of the Republic o the world of art the most impressive fea¬ ture of the fall of the Austro - Hungarian monarchy was the release from the storerooms and apartments, for public exhibition and examination by connoisseurs and students, of the hidden treasure of tapestries ot the Vienna Hofburg. Since early in the Sixteenth Century the House of Hapsburg had been gathering up superb examples of tapestry, only a few of which were ever shown in public, and this on great state occasions — much as the famous tapestries after cartoons by Raphael are hung in the Vatican on the occasion of important cere¬ monies of the Church. Although partly known to experts in tapes- j u L Y 922 three forty -nine mceRnACiODAL tries, when the entire collec¬ tion was examined by the authorities of the new republic it proved to be very much larger than anyone had imagined, since it included about one thousand pieces, the quality of which can only be equalled by the collections in Madrid and Paris. Art appreciation in Austria suffered no change with the passing of the ancient monarchy and the coming of the young republic. The au¬ thorities realized their obligation to their own people, and to the art world in general, to show these new - found treasures in public. And accordingly, in the summer of 1920, and again in 1921, exhibitions of the tapestries were given in Vienna that at¬ tracted an extraor¬ dinary amount of attention. The enor¬ mous monetary value This Seventeenth Century tapestry is one of the nu¬ merous series which have jor their subject the story of “ Dido and Aeneas.” An Eighteenth Century tapestry depicting a soldiers’ encampment of the period of this treasure, indeed, sug¬ gested to some utilitarian souls in Vienna the idea that the tapestries might be hypothecated in the United States in return for a loan that would solve Austria’s financial problems. But this proposal raised such a storm of opposi¬ tion among patriotic and art-loving Austrians that it was quickly abandoned. For the present, at least, the world must go to Vienna to see this treasure of tapestries or else enjoy them through reproduc¬ tions of such char¬ acteristic examples as are illustrated in these pages. In point of time and in variety of schools, the six tap¬ estries shown with this brief account illustrate fairly well the vast range and wealth of the Hof- burg treasure. Old¬ est of all the tapes¬ tries is the “Trium¬ phal Processions of Petrarch,” which was woven about the beginning of the Six¬ teenth Century, pro¬ bably in Tours. The three fifty JULY 1922 mteRTiAcionAL “Death of Adonis” was probably woven in Fon¬ tainebleau for Francis I; it is richly interwoven with gold and silver threads, its ornamental This is the oldest oj the tapestries in design b C I n g the collection , being woven about the after the works beginning of the Sixteenth Century, of Michelangelo probably in lours. Its subject is the ° “Triumphal Processions of Petrarch” and the decora¬ tions of one ol This tapestry was probably woven in ,i • , i Fontainebleau for Francis I. Its ie rooms in the subject is the death of Adonis , and Fontainebleau it is magnificently interwoven with i t-i threads ot gold and silver. palace. 1 he re- J 6 cumbent figures are \ ery reminiscent of the Medici Chapel figures which have so often been adap’ted by artists since Michelangelo. JULY 922 three fi fty-oii e mceRHACionAL THE FIRST PRIZE WINDOW ARRANGEMENT, WITH FOUNTAIN BY BEATRICE FENTON ART WEEK- ETWEEN April 22 and April 29, in the present year of grace, the artists and people of the city of Phila¬ delphia created an art event that probably has no parallel in history. This was the function styled lias The significance of a unique event, and what it accomplished in bring¬ ing art to the people * by MARGARET MONTGOMERY INNOVATION ‘Art Week,” designed to bring art into a closer relation to the people through the medium of the display of paintings, sculptures and the applied arts under conditions of publicity unknown to regular ex¬ hibitions, through lectures and discussions in formal meetings, and in the informality of public halls and school rooms. In the golden age of Athens and Florence, life must have been lived under conditions that would make those Grecian and Italian cities appear like perpetual and ever-present art exhibitions to men and women of today, although to the Greeks and Florentines their existence must have been as matter-of-fact as contemporary life in any modern town. The social history of almost any country would show great art fetes to which a single day was devoted, but these would be nations with an older record than ours and with an artistic tradi¬ tion deeply rooted in the lives of the people. But it is doubtful if any land, in its most utilitarian phase of development (such as our country is going through), can point to so unique an artistic, social, commercial and civic demonstration as Philadelphia made in those epochal eight days in April. For this artistic phenomena is not one to be brushed lightly aside as a manifestation of the American mania for special _ _ ‘‘drive weeks.” Nor is it of less importance than a solemn convention of an art federation which merely discusses what the artists and the people of Phila¬ delphia made reality. It was this quality of reality which gave to Art Week its most profound significance, a reality that embraced the children in school, the merchant who offered his show windows for use as a temporary art gallery, the workers in stores and offices who fed their wearied spirits and bodies at the noon hour and on going home from work with long and unaccustomed draughts of “seeing pictures,” the mothers and fathers of the children who contributed to the dis¬ plays of school art, and the public officials inter¬ ested in the fame and progress of their city- Indeed this living reality of art spread its influence so far that Chicago, Syracuse and St. Louis asked permission to send civic representatives to study the working out of the plans for the Art Week. To one man with the long-held idea that there should be a more intimate relation between the artists and the people is the idea of Art Week due, and with the original help of twelve men and fourteen women it was accomplished. It is a matter of record that once a year, for the past three jijty-two JULY 922 mreRHActoriAL three years, Richard T. Dooner, of the Fellowship of the Pennsylvania Academy, has proposed to the members of that organization that they should hold “at homes” in their studios on a specified day or a number of days to encourage this closer relation of artists and people. It is also a matter of record that no action was ever taken on this motion, based on the desire to establish a more intimate relation between the men and women who create art and that public to whom art is more or less mysterious and far removed in thought from any connection with their daily lives. In Mr. Dooner’s breast appears to dwell the spirit of the soldiers in the World War who in¬ variably responded to the chorused query, “Are we down-hearted?” with a vociferous “No!” Failing in his appeal to the Academy, he invited a group of men and women artists to meet in his studio and discuss his plans as a general and civic art group movement, to which was added the scheme of turning the shop windows of Chestnut Street into art galleries for a week. Twenty-six responded and to the efforts of this group of pioneers there was added the co-operation of all the AN ART WEEK STORE WINDOW ARRANGED AROUND FRANK B. LINTON’S “fOOl’s FINESSE' Fred Wagner art organizations of Phila¬ delphia. Mr. Dooner soon found himself to be the fond parent of a child so lusty that it was difficult to manage. The original group comprised Herbert Pul- linger, Frank Reed Whiteside, Julius Block, Morris Molarsky, Nicola D’Ascenzo, H. Devitt Welsh, J. Frank Copeland, Richard Blossom Farley, Frederick Nunn, Joseph Sacks, Yarnell Abbot, Howard Patterson, Mrs. Isabel Branson Cartwright, Miss Beatrice Fenton, Miss Corinne Pauli, Miss Edith McMutrie, Miss Johanna Boericke, Mrs. Fern I. Coppedge, Miss Catherine Patton, Miss Katherine L. Farrel, Mrs. Clara N. Madeira, Miss Janet Wheeler, Miss A. Margar- etta Archambault, Mrs. Juliet White Gross, Miss Mary Butler and Miss Elizabeth F. Washington. The comparatively limited scope of the original plan soon broadened out, to the end that every public activity in Philadelphia was included in Art Week and its dominant purpose in mak¬ ing products of the fine arts real and intimate things for the people to understand and take to themselves and to their homes as a practical part of their daily lives. On the Sunday of Art Week Joseph Pierson and Earl Horter three fifty-three JULY 9 2 2 mceRnAcionAL- ministers discoursed on art in relation to religion in many churches throughout t he city; and on Sunday night a forum was conducted in the Academy of Music at which Herbert Adams, Edwin I E Blashfield, Violet Oakley, Cass Gilbert, Charles Dana Gibson, Albert Kelsey and Dr. Floyd Tomkins, rector of Holy Trinity church, spoke. On five evenings during the week meetings were held in the Academy of the Fine Arts at which such pertinent topics as the relation of art to business were discussed, these ceremonies ending with a “Howard Pyle entertainment’’ in Rittenhouse Square, after which all the art students of the city marched in procession to South Camac Street where they were entertained by the various clubs whose rooms are there. Jf Art Week had evoked no more than meet¬ ings of this character it would have presented Herbert Johnson, Herbert littIe that was original and nothing that would have brought art into a more intimate and personal rela¬ tion to the great mass of the people. This result was more directly achieved through the shop window displays of paintings and sculptures in Chestnut Street, through the exhibi¬ tion of art work done by school children in the auditorium of Snellenburg’s department store, and through the “illustrated” talks on art given by the school children themselves in the school rooms throughout the city. Special stress may be placed on this last feature of Art Week owing to its elements of human interest and practicality. A typical illus¬ tration is furnished by the programme carried out m a class of girls, about twelve years of age. One of the young pupils was selected to speak on French art in relation to manufacture and it was part of her task to illustrate it with such articles of French arts and crafts as she could borrow at home or from her friends. The practical results of this selected case, typical of what was dojie in many other classrooms, was shown by the fact that the young speaker used as object lessons a French fan, a Fimoges plate, a book of engravings of famous French paintings, a French blouse and several pieces ol embroidered French lingerie. No child could ever after be indif¬ ferent to art who took part in an experience like this, for it brought art in relation to the actual daily lives of AN ART WEEK WINDOW ARRANGEMENT Ol- BRONZES AND DANIEL GARBER’S “ORCHARD WINDOW Pullinger, R. T. Dooner and lit Kriegboff Louis Hanlon and Alfred Hayward three JiJty-Jour JULY I Q 2 2 mceRHACionAL these children in their homes. If Art Week had done nothing more than to achieve instances like this it still would remain a monument on America’s art highway. But there was still the great mass of the public between the school children and those attending the various art forums to attract to the purpose of Art Week and to interest in it. For these, and the problem presented by them, the shop window art exhibitions were the solution. These displays presented another striking effect of Art Week on the commercial mind. At first the merchants along Chestnut Street were rather cold to the idea, those responding to it at first being men who for years have had direct contact with Europe and know that “art pays.” At first “small pictures” were requested; but after the first few windows were changed into art galleries for the week, the committee in charge of this feature received many calls for larger, or more, pictures and sculptures. Ample justification was found in the throngs that went to this tem¬ porary “Street of Art Exhibitions.” The crowds looked at works, among many others, by Daniel Garber, Martha Waiter, Carl Newman, Joseph T. Pierson, jr., Cora Brooks, John Sloan, Juliet Gross, Robert Henri, Frank Linton, Beatrice Fenton, the group of modernists in the Cafe L’Aiglon, Earl Horter, Hugh Breckenridge and Henry McCarter. Clerks and stenographers, business men and office boys, policemen and telegraph messengers, scrubwomen and the general shopping element, all were a part of this huge concourse of people who had art brought directly to them, in many instances for the first time in their lives. In the end, this window display was the strik¬ ing achievement of Art Week in Philadelphia. For the one person who knew art and loved it in¬ timately — for the one who went to hear the dis¬ cussions in the series of forums — there were a hundred Philadelphians who had art brought to them in a manner unique in their lives. It has long been the fashion to advance and maintain the idea that Americans are not an artistic people and cannot be made one. If Art Week in Philadelphia has any moral at all, and to this writer it has a most profound one, it is that Americans are more artistic in feeling than has ever been admitted; and that this demonstration proved the moral to the utmost. Art functioned to the fullest development of the aesthetic spirit during those memorable eight days; and the aesthetic spirit responded to a degree never witnessed before in the history of our land. Verily, the spirit of the Renaissance bloomed again in street, classroom and home. AN ART WEEK DISPLAY OF NICOLA D’ASCENZO STAINED GLASS H. Devitt Welsh, Committee on Arra ngements July 1922 three fifty-jive Xj/ie EDITOR'S he West sees plenty of pictures from the East, but the East has never been accorded that pleasure by the West. On the Pacific Coast several artists are producing paintings oi beauty and significance, which find ready appre¬ ciation among the art lovers oi that section. Only once in a while does one of them bring an exhibition to New York, but when he does he finds New York ready to enjoy him. Last season came George Townsend Cole, whose glimpses of mountain and desert created so deep an impression by their truth and their beauty, that another exhibition will be held next year. Mr. Cole’s pictures bear no resemblance to those of the “Taos School”: they are not an Eastern artist’s reaction to the color of the desert, but a Western painter’s interpretation of his own country. They ring true. A color plate of Mr. Cole’s “El Capi- tan” leads the August number of International Studio, and the accompanying article, by Helen Comstock, goes deeply into his art. Edward W. Redfield once painted a picture of a cow reclining in a pasture — (this was many years ago). Leaving the easel for awhile, he returned and found the canvas bare. The cow had come over, surveyed her presentment, and had liked it so well that she licked it affectionately. This cow was too appreciative. Hers, no matter how friendly, was destructive criticism. Not so F. Newlin Price’s, whose appreciation appears in the August number, accompanied by a color reproduction of “Drifted Road” and several other reproductions in black and white. The article, which is entitled “Redfield — Painter of Days,” is particularly timely, as the artist has become one of the big figures in American painting. That authoritative, entertaining antiquarian, Mr. Karl Freund, who gives our readers this month an intimate and fascinating discourse on French furniture “From Boule to Louis Seize,” has written for the August number an equally interesting and informative article on early stringed instruments — the harpsichord, the clavi¬ chord, the spinet and other types — and the text is illustrated by six full-page plates in color show¬ ing authentic instruments in the private collec¬ tion of Miss Belle Skinner, of Holyoke, Mass. Lee Lawrie, American sculptor, conceives of his art in its old, historical connection with architecture, and a view of his extraordinary achievements, in connection especially with his modern Gothic work for the Harkness Tow'er at Yale and the reredos of St. Thomas’ Church, New York, is given by Hanna Taehau in August. “Whatever form his flights of fancy may take, whether it be a detail or a group of statues, a bas relief or carved foliations, it never projects itself out of the general scheme nor becomes a disturbing note in the harmony of the finished design.” Rosaline Bonheur and Rosine Bernhardt, whose first names became professionally Rosa and Sarah, were the most celebrated Frenchwomen of their century. Particularly did the career of the former make a precedent for woman in art. Vigee Lebrun and Angelica Kaufmann, both excellent painters, had been incidents of their age; but Rosa Bonheur was accorded so much popular worship in France, England and America that her fame became unique. This year is the centenary of her birth, and Mme. Ciolkowska in the August number gives an entertaining account of her career. Even extremists, who scoff at such naturalism as Rosa Bonheur’s, will want to read it. The feminist movement is not wholly new. Woman began to put an end to man’s tyranny and appropriate some of the nice things he reserved for himself as far back as the eighteenth century. One of the first of these was the bandbox. Man used it exclusively at first as a travel con¬ tainer for his highly ornamental neckband — that wonderful creation that went with the powdered wig and ruffled shirt. Woman coveted it and appropriated it. And how she developed it and ornamented it! Mary Harrod Northern! tells of “The Pictorial Bandbox” in August. The Editor has sought to avoid familiar paint¬ ings from public collections for the magazine s cover. This month’s picture, never shown before, is from the Macbeth Gallery, while last month’s rare portrait by Sully was provided by the Rosenbach Galleries. The furniture illustrations in the article “From Boule to Louis Seize” are by courtesy of Henry Symons and the Wildenstein Galleries. \aJ^AHa W'NAj three fifty-six july 1922 JULY IQ22 International Studio X. STUDIOS OF FAMOUS ARTISTS No. 13. The above photograph shows the studio of Wellington J. Reynolds of Chicago, Ill. No need to follow Van Dyck OO that he might be sure of the ^ purity of the pigments and oil he used, Van Dyck actually studied chemistry. Artists today need not turn their studios into laboratories. By pro¬ per selection they can get colors that have proven their right to be trusted. The technical perfection of Devoe Colors are vouched for by thoroughness of scientific re¬ search; by exacting standards of manufacture; and by 168 years of paint manufacturing experience. DEVOE ARTISTS’ MATERIALS Manufactured by Devoe & Raynolds Co., Inc. New York Chicago I5C5 -JOS. t ix 1 International Studio july 1922 r Any Sketch Looks Better on Whatman ” V'OU don’t hesitate to put a little more time into your work, when by so doing you can improve it. That time is worth enormously more than the difference between the cost of a cheap drawing paper and WHATMAN. Water color, pen-and-ink or pencil, the proper surface of WHATMAN enhances the beauty of every medium. Its use is a delight and in the aggregate, an economy as well. eU WHATMAN Genuine Hand-made DRAWING PAPERS =4r Send for handy sample book of sizes, surfaces and weights — free to artists, architects and engineers H. REEVE ANGEL & CO. Incorporated "-it Spruce Street New York City THE RESTORATION of PAINTINGS is authoritatively treated in the following articles which have appeared in the Burlington Magazine. These articles are of the utmost value to collectors and dealers, and in them divers processes are exhaustively described and discussed. These include relining, transferring, stopping, varnishing and the cleaning of water-colors, etc. Price $7 (6 numbers) or $1 each except No. 197, $2. An essay on Mastic Varnish, by Sir Charles J. Holmes, 197 Some Elements of Picture Cleaning, by Sir Charles J. Holmes . 228, 229 Fumigation for Furniture-beetle in Panels, by D. S. MacCoII . 230 The Restoration of Paintings, by Henry T. Dover . 223, 224 ( WHEN ORDERING PLEASE QUOTE NUMBERS ) Since its foundation in 1903 the Burlington Magazine has steadily grown in public esteem. It numbers among its contributors the leading authorities not only in England, but in France, Ger¬ many, Italy, Spain, Holland, Belgium and America. Many of the most important recent discoveries in the history of art appear in its pages, both as regards Mediaeval and Renaissance art in Europe and the less explored fields of early Mohammedan, Chinese and Indian Art. Among the subjects dealt with are: — Architecture, Arms and Armour, Bronzes, Oriental Carpets, Chinese Porcelain, Embroideries and Lace, Engravings, Old Glass, Miniatures, Pewter, Plate and Silver, Paintings, Sculpture, Tapestries, Furniture, etc. A Classified List of the Principal Articles Published can be obtained FREE on Application THE BURLINGTON MAGAZINE For Connoisseurs. Illustrated. Published Monthly. $i. THE MEDICI SOCIETY OF AMERICA, Inc., 755 BOYLSTON STREET, BOSTON, MASS. PENCILS pencil in the world FROM thill, delicate lines, to heavy shading — from sketches to designs of intric¬ ate and costly machinery — for rough charts or finished maps — VENUS pencils are supreme. Ask us about our new VENUS EVERPOINTED METAL PENCIL from $1 .00 up to $50.00 OIL and WATER W COLOURS IVhen colours can be made any better — sue will make them ” Everything for the artist — ask your dealer or write for catalog IN-- Aft S OOO0OT ORTrricSM" INC. 31 East 17 "'St YORK, n.y. NEW ETCHING by ZELLA de MILHAU “Gyassa, Upper Nile” (Size 7x5^ inches) Edition Limited to Fifty Proofs M. Knoedler dc Co. 556 Fifth Ave., N. Y. JULY 1922 International Studio ■ i li T CANV-O-BOARD PATENTS PENDING A New Academy Board With 0 Pure Paint Surface that Feels, Looks and Works ; . like canvas : r . ; COSTS NO MORE than ordinary" Academy Board NOT Canvas pasted on 3 board. NOf put under 9 roller ,urii pressed. The texture is moulded1 on. with pure, unadulterated lead, and line paint. SIZES UP TO 30 x 40. FOR SALE BY YOUR DEALER Sole Distributors: Favor, Ruhl & Co. BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO SHAWPRINTS A new series of original photo¬ graphs for use in place of the living model by artists, students, etc. Send 2c. stamp for full particulars SHAW PUBLISHING COMPANY DEPT. M-7 44 BOYLSTON STREET BOSTON, MASS. Olive Ann Alcorn Photo Gravure, Zinc and Copper Plates For Etching, Dry Point, Soft Ground, Aquatint and Mezzotint, Stipple and Line Engraving. Sizes in Stock 2^4 x 3 x 4" 4 X 5" 5 x 6" 5 x 7 " 6x7" 6x8" 7 x 10" 8 x 10 " 8 x 12" 10 x 12" Odd sizes made up on orders. Write us for prices, or telephone Beekman 3748 Star Engravers’SuppIyCo.,61 BeekmanSt., N. Y. RICHTER MFG. CO. MANUFACTURERS AND IMPORTERS Decorative Burlaps, Draperies for Walls, etc. Superior grade of Artists’ Canvases in all widths up to 24 feet. 1 3 1-1 33 East 23d Street, New York Main Office and Works TENAFLY, N. J. Etchings by C. F. W. MIELATZ Signed Artist’s Proofs Choice and Fine Impressions Shown by appointment only G. W. HARRIS 132 West 1 2th Street New York ^ Alta Studies 's — AT I I TYTT O for the use of artists L\ L l L/JZiO SCULPTORS and STUDENTS Replacing living models in the STUDIOS OF AMERICA'S FOREMOST ARTISTS BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOS, 8x10 inches, from sharply focused, original plates, on the best grade of double weight photo paper. PRICES, including shipment, 5 for $2.50, 10 for $4.50, 20 for $7.50. Miniature samples sent for 25c. same to be applied on initial order A.LTA STUDIOS IES Dept. E 111 Golden Gate Ave. San Francisco Rembrandt Colo rs MADE IN HOLLAND Pure-Brilliant-Permanent TALENS & SON, Apeldoorn, Holland American Office, Irvington, N J. LIFE STUDIES from the nude Beautiful sepia prints, size 7x9, on mountings 11 x 14. We publish over 250 subjects for use by art students, sculptors, architects, illustrators, designers and photographers. Twelve prints sent for S9.00. Six prints sent for $5.00. Three prints sent for $2.50. Single prints $1.25. Sample sheet of miniature subjects sent for 25c in coin or stamps, to be credited on first order. CONSOLIDATED MFG. CO. 32 Union Square Dept. 606 New York City J. BLOCKX OIL AND WATER COLORS The finest in the world and ARTISTS’ CANVAS, linen, 17 inches to 14 feet wide Write for Lists SCHNEIDER fie COMPANY, Inc., 2102 Broadway, New York City SOLE AGENTS International Studio july 1922 Leading American Art Schools REGULAR and SUMMER CLASSES THE ART INSTITUTE OF CHICAGO ART SCHOOL SUMMER SESSION JULY 5 TO SEPTEMBER 9, 1922 For Artists — Teachers — Craftsmen and Students Offers the remarkable privilege of studying under the same roof with one of the greatest museums and art libraries where one may browse among the treasures of paintings, sculptures, decorative arts and prints, and at the same time be receiving technical instruction. An opportunity to gain new ideas and advance professionally by keeping in contact with the most modern art movements and suggestions. A large Faculty, numbering over 20, includes members of the regular Faculty augmented by well-known special instructors. This insures more than usual individual attention to the student. Situated within a short walking distance of the business district, the theatres, beautiful shops and the Field Museum makes this school the greatest and most accessible art center of the country. P R O G R A M Toy Making Lettering Mechanical Drawing Perspective Design Still-Life Painting Lectures During the past year 4500 students attended the school. A long waiting list has been kept on file. To avoid disappointment we advise early registration. For Summer School Catalogue Address Registrar Michigan Avenue, at Adams Street, Chicago, Dept. P Normal Instruction Craft Work Weaving Batik Tie and Dye Industrial Work Costume Design Gallery Talks Landscape Painting Nude Life Drawing Head Life Drawing Modeling Illustration Gesso Juvenile Classes The Art Students’ League of New York Announcement of Summer Schools New York City Summer School in the Amer¬ ican Fine Arts Bldg., 215 West 57th St., opens June 5th and closes Sept. 1st. Instructors: Mr. George B. Bridgman, Mr. William von Schlegell, Mr. Frederic Dorr Steele, Mr. Duncan Smith. Classes daily except Saturday. The Woodstock Summer School of Painting under direction of Mr. Hayley Lever, June 15th to Oct. 1st. In little village of Woodstock in the Catskills, with its wealth of artist material. Easily accessible to city. Twentieth year. For catalog and particulars address The Art Students’ League of New York Box S 215 West 57th St., New York ART ACADEMY of CINCINNATI Thisschool was founded in 1869 and has a long list of pupils who have won distinction as painters, sculp¬ tors, draughtsmen, and designers in all branches of the arts. Its courses of instruction are thorough and give full opportunity for profes¬ sional training under a faculty of capable and experienced artists. By reason of its endowment, the tuition fee is moderate. 551b year June 19th to August 28, 1922 For Catalogue address J. H. GEST, Director , Eden Park Cincinnati The PENNSYLVANIA ACADEMY of the FINE ARTS The Oldest Art School SUMMER SCHOOL in America ; at Chester Springs Chester County, Pa. INSTRUCTORS: PAINTING: Daniel Garber, George Oberteuffer, Fred Wagner ILLUSTRATION: George Harding SCULPTURE: Albert Laessle Open air instruction. Drawing, Painting, Illustration, Sculpture (modelling from farm animals). High, rolling land. Beautiful and historic scenery. Tennis courts, swimming pool, croquet grounds, etc. Board (including tuition). Si 5.00 per week and upwards. Open now. No student will be accepted for less than two weeks. Limited student list. Send for circular. Reference required. Resident M onager y D. ROY MILLER, Box C, Chester Springs, Chester County, Pa Yale School of the Fine Arts YALE UNIVERSITY, NEW HAVEN, CONN. DEPARTMENTS of DRAWING and PAINTING SCULPTURE, ARCHITECTURE Classes in Composition, Anatomy and Perspective LECTURES ON THE HISTORY OF ART The Degree of Bachelor of Fine Arts (B.F.A.) is awarded for advanced work of distinction. The Winchester Fellowship for one year’s study of art in Europe. The English Scholarship for the study of art and travel in Europe during the summer vacation, and School Scholarships are awarded annually. Illustrated catalogue. G. H. LANGZETTEL, Secretary METROPOLITAN ART SCHOOL 58 West 57th Street, New York =SUMMER CLASSES^= at East Gloucester, Massachusetts In Michel Jacobs’ Color System, Landscape and Figure. July 1 to August 15. Application should be made immediately at the New York address. Study Interior Decoration At Home Complete instructions by correspon- dence in period styles, color harmony, composition, etc. Amateur and pro¬ fessional courses. Start any time. ' -i Til Send for catalog S. The New York School Fi of Interior Decoration 101 Park A ve., New York City BECOME A Sculpturing on clay and hand carving on wood SCULPTOR and marble taught. Orders solicited Jor sculpturing on clay and wood carving. Artistic signs a specialty Rates exceptionally reasonable GREENWICH VILLAGE ART STUDIO, Inc. 64 University Place, New York MAURICE STERNE CLASS IN Painting, Drawing, and Composition ROME, ITALY For further particulars apply to BOURGEOIS GALLERIES 668 Fifth Avenue, New York DESIGNS WANTED For Christmas and other Greeting Cards ALFRED BARTLETT 248 Boylston St., Boston, Mass. [ xii ] JULY 1922 International Studio SCHOOL OF FINE ARTS DETROIT Independent and progressive. Thorough train¬ ing in Drawing and Painting from Life. Illus¬ tration. Composition. Limited students’ list. Illustrated catalog sent upon request. JOHN P. WICKER, Director Parsons Building Detroit, Michigan The SCHOOLof INDUSTRIAL ARTS TRENTON, NEW JERSEY Frank Forrest Frederick, Director Courses, leading to Diploma awarded under the authority of the State of New Jersey, including a course for the training of the ARTIST-ARTISAN In Clay, Wood or Metal Over a thousand students. Send for illustrated circular BOSTON, MASS. 47th year begins Oct. 2 School of the Museum of Fine Arts Instructors: Drawing and Painting — Philip L. Hale, F. A. Bosley, W. James, L. P. Thompson, A. K. Cross; Modeling — Charles Grafiy, F. W. Allen; Design — Henry Hunt Clark, A. J. Morse, G. J. Hunt; Scholarships and Traveling Scholar¬ ships. For circular address — A. F. Brooks, Mgr. SCHOOL OF FINE ARTS AND CRAFTS INC. Now established in its own building, offers new and unusual advantages for the study of the Arts. For circular address 349 Newbury Street, Room 417, Boston, Mass. SUMMER CLASSES PAINTING, MODELING, DESIGNING and WEAVING JUNE 19— JULY 29, 1922 MINNEAPOLIS SCHOOL OF ART 200 East 25th Street, Minneapolis, Minnesota St. Louis School of Fine Arts Courses in Drawing, Painting, Modeling, Commercial Art, Interior Decoration, Crafts, etc. For catalogue, apply to E. H. Y/UERPEL, Director WASHINGTON UNIVERSITY, St. Louis OTIS ART INSTITUTE Of the Museum of History, Science and Art 2401 Wilshire Blvd., Los Angeles, Cal. A SCHOOL OF FINE ARTS, CRAFTS, AND DECORATIVE DESIGN Fall Term Opens September 26 Write for prospectus to E. ROSCOE SHRADER, Acting Managing Dir. THE SAN DIEGO ACADEMY OF FINE ARTS In Balboa Park, San Diego, California CLASSES: Life Drawing and Painting; Ad¬ vertising Art; Design: Illustration; Stagecraft; Interior Decoration. A complete, thorough school of art in an artists’ Paradise; where out¬ door landscape classes work the year round; where earnest enthusiasm is dominant. EUGENE DeVOL, Director CALIF0RH1A SCHOOL W. °/ARL5 and CRAFTS m 2M9ALL3TOM WAY BERKELEY, CALIFORNIA THE INDUSTRIAL ART 5CHOOL OF THE PACIFIC COAST EALL. SPRING AMD AUnHER SESSIONS WRITE. TOR IU.USTRAJXD CATALOGUE Summer Session June 19 to July 29, 1922 FALL TERM OPENS JULY 31, 1922 Help Your Hand Do Its Best YOUR hand doesn’t have to waver over bumps and ridges if you STRATHMORE ARTISTS' PAPERS ml BOARDS There are no oil spots, hairs, or mottles to in¬ terrupt the smooth flow of your pencil, pen, or brush. You can erase without a qualm because Strath¬ more quality extends clear through the sheet. Strathmore Artists’ Papers and Drawing Boards are worth asking for — look for the Strath¬ more thistle on every sheet. Ask us to send you a sample set. STRATHMORE PAPER COMPANY Mittineague, Mass., U. S. A. I Philadelphia School of Design for Women Has trained women in all branches of Art and Design for 78 years Specialized instruction by experts in Industrial Design, Commer¬ cial Advertising, Illustration, Costume Design and Illustra¬ tion, Interior Decoration, Garden Architectural Design, Painting, Drawing, Modeling, etc. Normal Art Course DAY, EVENING AND SATURDAY CLASSES Catalogue on request HARRIET SARTAIN, Dean, Broad and Master Streets, Philadelphia 1 xiii 1 International Studio july 1922 The \ V 1 PEYTON BOSWELL : Editor THIS comprehensive newspaper of art, world-wide in its scope, is almost indispensable to the connoisseur, the artist, the student and the art dealer. No other medium is calculated to keep the reader so well informed of what is going on everywhere in the realm of art. Through bureaus maintained in London and Paris and through the combined efforts of a large corps of special correspondents located in the principal cities of the United States and in the great art centers of the world, The American Art News is able to present vital and significant news concerning EXHIBITIONS, SALES OF GREAT ARTWORKS, ART AUCTIONS, ARCHAEOLOGICAL DISCOVERIES, ART CONTROVERSIES, MONUMENTAL and DECORA¬ TIVE COMMISSIONS and various events of artistic consequence The AMERICAN ART NEWS prints each week a complete calendar of New York exhibitions and, periodically, a calendar of the big national exhibitions. The AMERICAN ART NEWS through its staff writers, presents liberal and descriptive criticisms of all art exhibi¬ tions throughout the world. The AMERICAN ART NEWS is not identified with any “ism” or tendency in art, but seeks to be as broad and catholic in its viewpoint as art itself. The AMERICAN ART NEWS is the one living link between the art centres of the United States and the art worlds of Europe and America. The AMERICAN ART NEWS in its editorial columns pursues a vigorous policy, without fear or favor. PUBLISHED WEEKLY Prom October i5th to June 30 th — Inc Lustre MONTHLY during July, August and September Send for sample copy; or subscribe for a year, $ 4.00 in the United States, $4.35 in Canada, $4.74 in foreign countries The AMERICAN ART NEWS CO. INCOR PORATED 786 SIXTH AVENUE NEW YORK, U. S. A. 1 xiv ] M. KNOEDLER & CO. ESTABLISHED 1846 PAINTINGS by OLD and MODERN MASTERS <$> OLD ENGLISH MEZZOTINTS AND SPORTING PRINTS OLD AND MODERN ETCHINGS and ENGRAVINGS High Class Restoring and Framing // PARIS 17 Place Vendome 556 FIFTH AVENUE NEW YORK LONDON 15 Old Bond Street DEMOTTE Works of Art of the Middle Ages De Luxe Art Publications in Limited Editions La Tapisserie Gothique Le Musee du Louvre: 19 14-1920 Les Chefs-D’Oeuvre du Portugal Les Dessins de Degas Etc. 27 rue de Berri 8 East 57th Street Paris New York ROBERT-LSTILLSON COMPANY-NEW YORK “THE MAN WITH THE BEAUTIFUL hands” - BY MABUSE August 1922 mtetUlATtOHAL StUDtO me new ijork 75 Cents The MACBETH GALLERY - E STABLISHED 189 2 - A corner of two of our four exhibition rooms where visitors are welcome at any time to see frequent exhibitions of the best PAINTINGS by AMERICAN ARTISTS The gallery’s publication, ART NOTES, issued three or four times each season, is mailed free on request Two doors south of the Public Library Fifth Avenue Buses pass the door WILLIAM MACBETH Inc. 450 FIFTH AVENUE - at Fortieth Street NEW YORK CITY A Registered ul United Stales Patent Office Copyright, li/22, hy I nternational Studio, Inc . Entered as second-class matter, March i, 181)7, at the Post Office at New York, N. Y , under the Act oj March 3, 187 p <» - - - - - - - — <§> AUGUST 1922 VOLUME LXXV NUMBER 303 MONTHLY 75c A COPY $6.00 A YEAR Canadian Postage 60 cents Foreign Postage $1.00 President ■ PEYTON BOSWELL Treasurer • S • W • FRANKEL Secretary ■ C * A * BENSON Editor • PEYTON BOSWELL Assistant Editor W • B • McCORMICK ARTICLES THIS NUMBER PAGE An Artist Finds a Desert . Helen Comstock . 359 Color plate and Jive illustrations The Pictorial Bandbox . Mary Harrod Northend . 363 Nine illustrations Rosa Bonheur’s Centenary . Muriel Ciolkowska . . . 367 Eight illustrations From Harp to Harpsichord . Karl Freund . 373 Six color plates and twenty illustrations Lee Lawrie, Architectural Sculptor . . Hanna Taciiau . 394 Ten illustrations The Etchings of Katherine Cameron . 401 Two illustrations Redfield, Painter of Days .... . . F. Newlin Price . 402 Color plate and seven illustrations “The Offering”: Verse . Gertrude Nason Carver . 411 One illustration American Art in Silvercraft . Hanna Taciiau . 412 Eight illustrations Animal Sculpture in China . H. S. Ciolkowski . 416 Eleven illustrations A Del Sarto for the Metropolitan . 423 One illustration Sculptor Revives Old Nordic Style . 424 Eight illustrations Germany’s New Scenecraft . Professor Oscar Bie .... 425 Ten illustrations Samuel Yellin, Master IronWorker . . W. B. McCormick . 430 Six illustrations American Sculpture for England . 435 Two illustrations The Monogram and the War . Sheldon Cheney . 436 Sixty-seven monograms illustrated Art by the Way . Guy Pene du Bois . ... 443 Three illustrations “The Man with the Beautiful Hands” . 447 Text Jor cover in color Philadelphia Acquires Rare Work . 448 An Artist “By Right” . Helen Comstock . 449 Five illustrations “Studio Talk” . The Editor . 452 TO CONTRIBUTORS Articles are solicited by the editor on subjects that are interesting and signijicant in all branches oj the fine and applied arts. No responsibility is assumed Jor the saje custody or return oj manuscriptsf but due care will be exercised. PUBLISHED MONTHLY BY INTERNATIONAL STUDIO, Inc. 786 SIXTH AVENUE - - - NEW YORK LONDON : 17 Old Burlington Street PARIS : 26 Rue Jacob International Studio august 1922 Charles of London INTERIORS Old English Furniture TAPESTRIES TWO WEST FIFTY-SIXTH STREET : NEW YORK LONDON : 27-29 BROOK STREET, W. Durand -Ruel liEW YORK : 12 EAST 57th ST. VARIS : 16 RUE LAFFITTE PAINTINGS AUGUST 1922 International Studio [ iii ] International Studio august 1922 AMERICAN PAINTINGS AND SCULPTURE Portraits : ‘T astelles : drawings “ Morning Light ” W. L. Lathrop FERARGIL GALLERIES 607 Fifth Avenue at Forty-ninth Street : : NEW YORK John Levy Galleries paintings qA NCI ENT AND MODERN NEW YORK 559 FIFTH AVENUE PARIS 28 PLACE VENDOME [ iv ] AUGUST 1922 International Studio HOWARD YOUNG GALLERIES Portrait of General Drummond by Sir Henry Raeburn 620 FIFTH AVENUE : NEW YORK BARBIZON PAINTINGS ENGLISH PORTRAITS IMPORTANT PAINTINGS by AMERICAN and FOREIGN MASTERS The ROSENBACH GALLERIES PAINTINGS by AMERICAN 6s FOREIGN MASTERS RARE BOOKS and MANUSCRIPTS PHILADELPHIA NEW YORK 1320 Walnut Street 273 Madison Avenue International Studio august 1922 Ehrich Galleries 707 Fifth Avenue, at Fifty-fifth Street NEW YORK R. C. & N. M. VOSE ESTABLISHED IN 1841 SPECIAL EXHIBITS °f PAINTINGS by Old and Modern Masters ‘During August High Class PAINTINGS Early English American Barbizon Modern Dutch Mrs. Ehrich’s Gallery 707 Fifth Avenue, New York JEWELRY ANTIQUE FURNITURE TEXTILES ITALIAN LINENS POTTERY DECORATIVE METAL BOSTON 398 BOYLSTON STREET Frederick Keppel & Co. ETCHINGS by REMBRANDT WHISTLER M E R Y O N HADEN, ZORN AND OTHER MASTERS ON EXHIBITION IN OUR GALLERIES 4 East Thirty-Ninth Street, New York THE RESTORATION of PAINTINGS is authoritatively treated in the following articles which have appeared in the Burlington Magazine. These articles are of the utmost value to collectors and dealers, and in them divers processes are exhaustively described and discussed. These include relining, transferring, stopping, varnishing and the cleaning of water-colors, etc. Price $7 (6 numbers) or $1 each except No. 197, $2. An essay on Mastic Varnish, by Sir Charles J. Holmes, ‘97 Some Elements of Picture Cleaning, by Sir Charles J. Holmes . 228, 229 Fumigation for Furniture-beetle in Panels, by D. S. MacColI . 230 The Restoration of Paintings, by Henry T. Dover . 223, 224 ( WHEN ORDERING PLEASE QUOTE NUMBERS ) Since its foundation in 1903 the Burlington Magazine has steadily grown in public esteem. It numbers among its contributors the leading authorities not only in England, but in France, Ger¬ many, Italy, Spain, Holland, Belgium and America. Many of the most important recent discoveries in the history of art appear in its pages, both as regards Mediaeval and Renaissance art in Europe and the less explored fields of early Mohammedan, Chinese and Indian Art. Among the subjects dealt with are: — • Architecture, Arms and Armour, Bronzes, Oriental Carpets, Chinese Porcelain, Embroideries and Lace, Engravings, Old Glass, Miniatures, Pewter, Plate and Silver, Paintings, Sculpture, Tapestries, Furniture, etc. A Classified List oj tbe Principal Articles Published can be obtained FREE on Application THE BURLINGTON MAGAZINE For Connoisseurs. Illustrated. Published Monthly. $1. THE MEDICI SOCIETY OF AMERICA, Inc., 755 BOYLSTON STREET, BOSTON, MASS. f vi ] AUGUST 1922 International Studio rJ"'I IE responsiveness of a pencil emphasizes its value as a medium. Even in the most rapid sketch, Dixon’s Eldorado runs the gamut from black to gray — no matter how delicate the line or subject. ELdoradO j the master drawing pencil JOSEPH DIXON CRUCIBLE COMPANY Pencil Dept. 1 iq-J Jersey City, N. J. Full-length free samples on request study and observation given by the painter to his pigments, and not to any secret process which they may have possessed. Today the artist is relieved of the tedious work of grinding his colors. He has but to select the colors from Colormen that inspire his confidence. F. WEBER CO. stands foremost in the manufacture of Artist Color. Their vast plant is a marvel of modern science combined with “oldtime” thoroughness and study. In this plant are great electrically driven granite rollers that exactly duplicate the motion of hand grinding. A chemical laboratory maintains uniformity in production and selects only those pig¬ ments that will give lasting color. Oil, Water, Tempera, Pastel. The Colors the Old Masters would have used. On Sale at all Dealers. F.WEBER CO Andre Castaigne, many times official portrayer of European c court functions, and the most famous French illustrator of modern times, writes: ™ - c . Paris, Sept. 20, 1921 ". and my Charcoal, Crayon or Lead Pencil drawings when made on Canson Ingres have always been superior. I consider Canson Ingres indispensable to the artist; its grain lends itself to all techniques and to all effects. Briefly, one can do all with Canson Ingres, and for myself, I cannot be without it.” Andre Castaigne Canson Ingres is the best medium for studies in color harmony. It offers a choice of white or sixteen exquisite colors. Generous samples to show colors and texture will be sent on receipt of six cents in stamps. Canson & Montgolfier M anufacturers oj French Papers 461 Eighth Avenue New York When ARTISTS’ COLORS are made ol THE PUREST COLORING SUBSTANCES mixed with THE BEST CONVEYING MEDIUMS They Must be Good ! This is exemplified by A CENTURY OF UNIVERSAL APPROVAL of the ARTISTS’ COLORS made by H. SCHMINCKE & CO. DUSSELDORF, GERMANY Sole Importer M. GRUMBACHER 164 Fifth Avenue New York City Carried by all experienced dealers [ vii ] International Studio august 1922 DUVEEN BROTHERS PAINTINGS PORCELAINS TAPESTRIES OBJETS d’ART PARIS NEW YORK [ viii ] CAP! TAN by Lfeorqe Townsend Cole An ARTIST Finds a "DESERT o those who know the northern part of Arizona, the paintings of George Town¬ send Cole are like the faces of _ old friends, while they give to those who have never seen this part of the desert a feeling of intimacy rivaling that of actual experi¬ ence. In these pictures the double ability of the artist is preeminently manifest. Part of this ability makes his paintings informative, physio- graphically, and the other and greater part expresses the selective judgment and creative imagination of the painter by which art is lifted above the plane of the photographic. George Townsend Cole is a native of Cali¬ fornia. His father, Cornelius Cole, who is still enjoying life in his hundredth year, went west with the “forty-niners” soon after his graduation from Wesleyan College in 1847, and was Senator from Cali¬ fornia when Lin¬ coln was Presi¬ dent. He sat on the platform when the Gettysburg address was de¬ livered, and he saw Lincoln only a few hours before he was shot. When the purchase of Alaska was under discussion, Sena- N orthern An zoi 2 a 's gran¬ deur and color inspire George Townsend Cole to dramatic heights ■ . by HELEN COMSTOCK. tor Cole suggested the means for handling some of the finan¬ cial difficulties of the situation. Needless to say, he is the oldest former United States Senator. In America it is frequently only one generation from the to the artist. The leisure necessary to won with remarkable speed. George pioneer art is Townsend Cole is the youngest member of the pioneer’s family. He grew up in an intensely western background, though because of his father’s intimate connections with the East it was by no means sectional in a restricted sense. Yet he did not come East to study art, but went directly to Paris to the Beaux Arts. That was in the late ’nineties. He spent two years in Paris and three more in the Academy of Art in Vienna. When he returned to this country he went back to the coast to wmrk. His home now is in Hollywood. The result has b e e n that while Cole is known in the West, the East did not have an opportunity to become familiar w ith h is paintings until his recent exhibition in New York. This is a reminder that the barrier of distance “quicksands, canon DE CHELLy” BY GEORGE TOWNSEND COLE AUGUST 1922 three fifty-nine mceRnAoonAL SHADOWS ON THE SAGIE BY GEORGE TOWNSEND COLE has not yet surrendered to the ever increasing speed of communication. Painters in one section of the country become well known in their own locality while they are simply names to another. And yet artists, of all people, should be citizens of the nation rather than of any one part of it. The country that Cole has painted is one of intense and powerful beauty, remote and inacces¬ sible, lying in the upper part of Arizona, and including the Chin Lee Valley, the Canon de Chelly and the Painted Desert, where the Colorado River twists its way westward belore its down¬ ward drop to the sea. Many artists have made the southern part of Arizona and also New Mexico familiar to us — Groll, Remington, Ufer, and the Taos Society oi Artists, but this par¬ ticular region has not yet attracted so many painters as other parts of the desert. James Swinnerton went there before Cole did, but he was more interested in the Indians than the country, while Cole has centered his attention on the landscape itself. Northern Arizona is a land of glorious color and majestic rock formations, a land where the unbelievable is ever present and where the unusual happens with startling frequency. Rivers flow along for miles and then suddenly disappear beneath the surface and pursue their courses un¬ derground. The clay and shale and sandstone of the Painted Desert are not only red and brown, but purple, blue, yellow and white. Wind and water have wrought vio¬ lently and persistently over the face of the mesas and have carved the towering cliffs so that the land has become one of dramatic beauty. The very character of the place changes with the hours of the day, so that the mountain that seems a mass of purple immo¬ bility against the sunset has a pale and wavering opalescence in the early morning which makes it seem about to dissolve and float away. To paint such a coun¬ try is an adventure. Not only does it tempt an artist to put upon his canvas its vastness, its stately grandeur, and the fine delicacy of its horizons, but the journey itself is alluring to those who are able to cope with the desert. It is one thing to paint the desert from an artists’ colony, or perhaps to make short expeditions into the surrounding country, but it is another thing to exist alone for weeks in a region of so few inhabitants and so many dangers as Cole chose to paint. He would be the last one to speak of his journeys there as anything out of the ordinary, for to one who was raised on a ranch it was all a matter of course. He felt that it was simply a matter of good fortune that he should be so thoroughly at home in the desert, for it enabled him to do authoritative work there. He did not make sketches to be finished later in his studio, but completed each picture while he sat before his subject. Cole uses a medium which requires that he work with great rapidity and accuracy. He paints in gouache on canvas, a rare and seldom used combination, since not many painters even know how to prepare a canvas for gouache. It was during his student days in Europe that one of his masters told him of this technique. He was working in tempera at the time, but found that three sixty AUGUST g 2 2 mreRnACionAL gouache used on canvas had a greater depth of tone than tempera, and was more luminous, yet was equally smooth and clear. However, it is a medium of exacting re¬ quirements, and long ex¬ perience with oii is a pre-requisite to its han¬ dling. For one thing it demands a well-trained hand and the power over line which shall express finality in the first stroke. There can be no working over or retouching. But because of this it is possible to attain with it great clarity of line and precision of form. This fits it admirably to the painting of a country whose characteristics are its clear-cut outlines and the gigantic bulk of its rock forms. One of the reasons for the satisfying truthfulness of Cole’s paintings is the harmony between medium and subject. It makes it possible for him to reveal the manner in which the limpid clarity of the atmosphere preserves the finest detail of each sharply weathered rock and gives to the distant horizon an almost equal definiteness with objects close at hand. The problem of suggesting distance presents itself, of course, to all artists, but par¬ ticularly to the painter of the desert. The clear desert atmosphere puts great difficulty in his path. When distant things are seen so clearly as the desert presents them, it is very hard to make them seem far away in a picture. The old methods of presenting “aerial perspective” are useless, for the desert does not veil its horizons; it presents them in minute detail, and defies the painter to do justice to their amazing definiteness of form and at the same time create the illusion of dis¬ tance. It is in handling this particular problem without sacrificing clarity that Cole attains his greatest success. There is a fine example in his “El Capitan,” here reproduced in color, for the space between the two rocks is made all the more difficult to suggest because the one in the back¬ ground, being much larger than the other, seems the same size because it is so far away. It was during the rainy season, in August and CLIFFS OF MOENCOPIE BY GEORGE TOWNSEND COLE September, that these pic¬ tures were painted. At that time the rain-washed rocks blossom into their full beauty of color. It is then, too, that the finest cloud effects are seen. There are times when the clouds seem not less monumental than the rocks themselves. In his “Towers of de Chelly” the billowing, gleaming forms rear a second battle¬ ment in the sky, and in “Abandoned Stronghold” long streamers of white appear back of the piled- up clouds in one of those rare and beautiful com¬ binations which only the desert at this season can give. In “Shadows on the Sagie” a gray curtain of cloud is partially lifted before a sweep of green¬ ish blue sky of almost unearthly purity and radiance. The water is a deep blue, and red-brown banks rise abruptly on either side. The light falling across the water and the curve of the cloud above it give to this picture an unusual beauty of composition. “Quicksands, Canon de Chelly” embodies par¬ ticularly the qualities of clarity and definiteness spoken of before. Of all Cole’s pictures, this is the most striking in its sharp definitions. The sweep¬ ing curve of the quicksands, the sharp turns in the river, the silhouette of the rocks, the rolling clouds — in all of these line becomes particularly eloquent. Further, the picture has a purity of AUGUST 1922 three sixty-one mreRDACionAC sotm© tone and radiance of hue which complete the striking effect whose foundation is clarity of line. The edges of the clouds seem fairly to gleam, the smooth sands are pale, startlingly so, and the rocks offer their deep-toned reds and browns by way of contrast. It is not be¬ cause many colors, nor particularly bright ones, are employed that the picture is so drama¬ tic in its effect, but rather because of the most unusual quality of its tone. It is noteworthy that Cole has preferred to paint the landscape itself rather than the inhabitants of the country. Many artists have found the Indians more interesting subjects. Cole camped near them frequently and saw them with their Hocks — a quiet race, mindful ot their own affairs, who were accustomed to go to bed at seven o’clock and leave the painter in a silence unbroken save for the occasional crumbling of some claybank. Of the two subjects before him, the Indians and the desert, the artist, though originally a figure painter, chose the latter, being deeply impressed by its solemn grandeur and beauty of form. In only one of his pictures do any kind of figures appear, “Towers of de Chelly,” and they are so insignificant as to have no other effect than to emphasize the puniness of man. Cole says that there are many rea¬ sons why this part of Arizona appeals to him more than any other portion of our western desert. Its unusual beauty makes a constant appeal to his imagination. Its skyline presents a con¬ tinually changing ar¬ rangement of lines, due to its buttes, its canons and its low lying clouds. There is greater brilliance of color here — even the trees, when they ap¬ pear, being more in¬ tensely green than in the southern part of the state. But what he speaks of as being the greatest fascination of this region is its unity and harmony. Here is a land over which wind and water have played for centuries with no interruption from man on one side and comparatively few volcanic disturb¬ ances on the other. Although there are outcroppings of rock which have been pushed up through the earth by some great subterranean force, like the two in “El Capitan,” the main configura¬ tion of the land has taken shape gradually. The buttes and canons and mesas have grown old together and there is a feeling of consonance, ot infinite relation between them. Such a picture as “Abandoned Stronghold” shows his response to this aspect of desert landscape. It passes on to the beholder the impression of harmony and structural unity. In “Towers ol de Chellv” the great pinnacle near the center, worn out slowly from the rest of the cliff, impresses one with a kind of cousinship to the greater mass from which it has split away. These subtle relations do not exist where volcanic action or sudden disturbances have altered and twisted the earth’s surface. Cole’s pictures have the mark of individuality that belongs to the art¬ ist who has gained a mastery over technical difficulties and has swung into his stride. He not only succeeds in giving us a vivid por¬ trayal of a beautiful landscape, but he has fixed in our memories his own individual man¬ ner and style. His pic¬ tures have introduced us to a country and to a painter as well. “towers of de chelly” BY GEORGE TOWNSEND COLE ( Illustrations by courtesy of the Milch Galleries) “abandoned stronghold, PAINTED DESERT” BY GEORGE TOWNSEND COLE three sixty-two AUGUST 1922 mceRHACionAL THE COVER PORTRAYS AN INSTITUTION, PROBABLY OF CONTEMPORARY RENOWN, AND ANIMALS DECORATE THE SIDES The "PICTORIAL "BANDBOX N old Colony days, when stage coaches ruled the road, the ladies took with them as they journeyed pictorial bandboxes, and we can almost visualize the color schemes as they peered out at us among the stage coach trunks which, shiny and black in their leather coverings and studded with brass-headed nails, were heaped inside or fastened at the rear. Every belle of that period took with her not one but many of these contrivances, hence the manufacture of them should be classed among the many industries of that early time. There is but a tenuous relationship between the modern-day hatbox and that affected in the Victorian or pre-Victorian era, and some which can be found in the as yet unrifled attic. When did they first come into fashion and why? History surely tells us and a curious fact is developed — that is, that bandboxes were first designed for gentlemen, and admired and coveted by the gentler sex, who soon appropriated them to their own use. During the eighteenth century the gentlemen of the day wore powdered wigs, ruffled shirts, buckled shoes, and knee breeches. This style of dress naturally demanded highly ornamental neckwear, and the demand was met by wonderful creations having as foundations buck¬ ram covered with satin, silk and velvet. These were edged with rich lace and adorned with jeweled buckles usually so voluminous that only a box of generous dimen¬ sions would contain them without crushing. They were called neckbands, and the container was termed a bandbox. It was what we would call a collar box, but it was soon found to be extremely useful to carry other things, especially the wig when not in place upon the head. Our great grandmothers were intrigued by the charming possibilities of the bandbox, and swiftly appropriated it to their own uses; but did not change its name when it became the resposi- tory of their headgear, which just then was running very large — calashes, muskmelon hoods and poke bonnets so wide and deep as to hide the fair faces of their owners. Soon smaller boxes were made, for carrying muffs, caps and kerchiefs. At the height of their popularity, they varied in capacity from tiny specimens to mammoth ones holding more than a bushel. The early specimens were models of strength combined with lightness, being made wholly of wood, covered with paper; for pasteboard was not Man devised it for his necessity, but our great¬ grandmothers seized it for their vanity ■ • * by MARY IIARROD NORIHEND AUGUST Q22 three sixty-three mceRnAcioriAL sum© A BANDBOX PANORAMICALLY DECORATED WITH THE “grand canal” utilized much before 1850 and marked the passing of their popu¬ larity. Time has dealt leniently with these relics of yesterday, for we find them as rich in coloring as when first made, and realize forci¬ bly how much more durable were the vege¬ table dyes then in use than are our aniline dyes of today. While we have steadily ad¬ vanced in art, we have never been able to equal the rich tone of the Colonial yellow, the soft shades of china pink and the cool hem¬ lock green as employed by our ancestors. In any collection ol note, we are likely to come upon at least one specimen of wooden band- box that has inside its cover a time-stained label, bearing this maker’s name: A HUNTING PARTY AND A STAGE COACH SCENE DECORATE THIS BANDBOX modern application of an old, old theme. Great¬ ness ot spirit will always find some outlet, some mode of expression for its personality; and so we find Hannah Davis manufacturing bandboxes in East Jaffrey, New Hampshire, and she made boxes that have stood the test of time. She must have been very enterprising, for she purchased spruce logs, had them hauled to her door, sawed them into very thin boards, and then shaped them and cut them into proper lengths by a loot-power machine. Each box was elliptical and lined with newspaper; the outside was sometimes covered with fancy wallpaper, and again painted black, with a block pattern for ornament. Her prices w'ere very reasonable, as she rarely charged over fifty cents for large boxes, and sold the small ones for twelve- and-a-half, which was the old New England “ninepenee,” as well as the “York shilling,’’ never coined, but al¬ ways a popular price. It w'as this reasonable cost, combined with their convenience, that made bandboxes so popular for so long a time. Those were days when journeys were often made on horse¬ back, which necessi¬ tated the lightest possi¬ ble style of luggage, so the bandbox was often fastened to the pommel of the saddle. Beyond question, Who says that the feminist movement is modern? It is only a ANOTHER VIEW OF THE “GRAND canal” band- box BANDBOX MADE BY HANNAH DAVIS, EAST JAFFREY, N. H. three sixty-jour AUGUST 1922 mceRDACionAL bandboxes originated in France. Proof of this is found in the fact that in any large collection we come occasionally upon one or more with “Car¬ ton,” printed upon it. Inevitably they were copied in other countries, although the majority of those found in the United States today are of American make, and the pictures used lor their decoration illustrate events that took place during the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. Each box had two decorations, one for the cover, the other superimposed upon the wooden or pasteboard sides of the box proper, which had first been covered with paper. Sometimes old fashioned wallpaper was used for this purpose, in which case no other decoration was needed; but much more frequently the covering was specially made for this purpose from paper thin¬ ner than wallpaper and of tougher quality. As this paper seems to have been perfectly plain, it had to be hand - printed, from wooden blocks, and many of these prints have con¬ siderable historic value, faithfully reproducing fa¬ miliar landmarks in colors that have something of the charm of old Japanese prints and compare favorably with the posters produced in our own twentieth century. Prominent among the designs used were pictures of the State House in New York, the Deaf and Dumb Asylum, Castle Garden, while it was still an island; the Capitol at Albany, the first Capitol at Washington, the New York Post Office, and Washington at Mt. Vernon. The New York State House, and the Deaf and Dumb Asylum in the same city are found on the same box, the former being shown upon the sides, and the latter on the cover. New York, and not Venice, is represented on the “Grand Canal” band- box, the canal boat being drawn in a storm by mule power, while the lower part of the picture shows the archway of an aque¬ duct with a waterfall dash¬ ing by the side of the mill. The “Windmill and Rail¬ road” bandbox shows rude cars, loaded with wood and miscellaneous freight, which is drawn over the rails by horse power. Military scenes seem to have been very popular, and Napoleon often holds A QUAINT DELINEATION OF THE OLD NEW YORK POST OFFICE ON THE LID, A SAIL-BOAT ON A MOUNTAIN LAKE, ON THE SIDE, SANDY HOOK LIGHT HOUSE, AND A SPIRITED MARINE AUGUST 9 2 2 three si x ty -five mceRnACionAL SEUMO A panorama OF GARDEN the centre of the stage, TEMPLES, WITH A FLORAL -it \\t I • ^ _ varied by Washing- BASKET ON THE COVER _ J & ton subjects or Gen¬ eral Zachary Taylor “Tenting on the Old Camp Ground.” There are also drills of both infantry and cavalry. Vying with martial scenes come the naval pictures, ships of all patterns in sailing craft, some in storms, and some in calms, but all of them, apparently, with every stitch of canvas set. One of these views depicts the Sandy Hook Lighthouse, with a full-rigged ship tossing to and fro upon a tem¬ pestuous AN IMAGINATIVE AMERICAN EAGLE, VOGUE AFTER THE RENDERING OF THE WHICH CAME INTO REVOLUTIONARY WAR close at hand. This Clayton s ascent, an . . . EARLY AERONAUTICAL ADVEN- appears upon the side 1 TURE, IMMORTALIZED HERE of the bandbox, while the cover shows a bold mariner sailing a boat upon some mountain lake surrounded by towering cliffs and castle-crowned heights. In high favor with the ladies were all manner of floral representations, especially those featuring bits of Italian gardens, where strutted the gaudy peacock. This was often combined with baskets of flowers, with fountains, or with the grapevine pattern. The stage coach and the hunt were some¬ times combined. The livelier design and colors were in use by the young belles and fashion¬ able young matrons, while there were plenty ol more subduedeffectsin lavender, gray or ashes-of-roses to suit the quieter taste of the middle-aged and elderly ladies. An elaborate and expensive box was often protected, while in use, by a bag-like covering of chintz or calico, something that could be laundered. three sixty-six AUGUST 922 mceRHACionAL “BOEUFS ET MOUTONs” BY ROSA BONHEUR "ROSA BONHEUR’S CENTENARY etween the ca¬ reers of Rosa Bonheur and Sarah Bernhardt more than one similarity occurs. Even their initials present an identity, for while the painter’s first name was originally Rosaline, the actress’s was Rosine. Both have been, without doubt, the most celebrated Frenchwomen of their cen¬ tury, their popularity abroad having equalled, if not surpassed, their own country’s appreciation. Indeed, at one time in her life, on the occasion of her visit to England after the purchase by a London dealer of “The Morse Fair,” now in the Metropolitan Mu¬ seum of New York, Rosa Bonheur was welcomed with that peculiar eclat more often the experience of stars of the stage than of art¬ ists, whose personalities do not, as a rule, have so con¬ spicuous a share in their tri¬ umphs. Since Rosa Bonheur’s time, Rodin has been the only artist to be acclaimed by the public of Europe and America to the same extent. She was born on March 16, 1822, at Bordeaux. Her father was an artist and became her teacher — the only one she ever had. Her mother was of noble blood. Rosa was small when her parents went to live in Paris. The family consisted besides of two brothers and a little sister who stayed behind in the care of an old nurse at Bordeaux. They were to go through very hard times in the capital. Raymond Bonheur had hoped France' s celebration re¬ calls triumphant career of artist who gloried in naturalism • • by MURIEL CIOLKOWKA AUGUST 19 2 2 three sixty-seven mteRnACtoriAL LION ET LIONNE BY ROSA BONHEUR for success. It was denied him and the family bread was difficult to earn with drawing lessons. His wife had to help bring grist to the mill, but it was too much for her sensitive nature and she soon died. The little girl was already showing talent for art, but her father’s disappointments counselled him to discourage his daughter’s inclinations and he put her as an apprentice at a dressmaker’s. But she was so unhappy there and showed so little dexterity with the needle that he removed her to a boarding-school where he had arranged for her keep in exchange lor drawing lessons given by him¬ self to the other girls. Here Rosa had plenty of opportunity to exercise her gifts and soon she was free to go to the Louvre to copy Paul Potter and Salvator Rosa. At home, where visitors would find the whole little family pencil in hand, she would compose small pictures of rural life for which, at 300 francs apiece, she already found patrons. Among these was M. Micas, whose daughter, Natalie, was Rosa’s pupil and eventu¬ ally became her life-long companion. Rosa Bonheur was nineteen years of age when she first submitted her work before the jury of the Salon. She sent two pictures. One repre¬ sented rabbits nibbling carrots, the other goats and sheep. Certain parts of Paris, which are now entirely urban, were at that time fields and pastures and it was here the young girl would make her studies from animals. Both pictures were accepted. This was in 1841. Her father felt much elated and foresaw that he would realize his own frustrated ambitions in the person of his gifted daughter. And he would say to her: “Think of Mine. Vigee- Lebrun, but you must go further than she did.” The following year she sub¬ mitted three pictures and a little figure of a sheep in terra-cotta. All four passed muster with the jury. At this period she was in fine form, as is testified by the head of a sheep, splendidly painted, on view at the commemorative dis¬ play of her work at this year’s Salon (1922). The third medal was awarded to her in 1845 and she was now so busy that her friend Natalie would help her by tracing her drawings on to the canvases, a process which was perhaps not entirely to their advantage, for Rosa’s sketches show a spirit and firmness which seem to have got lost during transmission to the finished picture. In Rosa Bonheur’s day the study of Nature was considered an artist’s first duty. No modern artist would claim that “In all I do, I endeavor to be exact down to the smallest detail.” Painting, nowadays, has different aims and preference lor them should not be detrimental to regard for Rosa Bonheur’s efforts. She opened no door on new horizons but she strove after, and in many ways realized, that perfection which was the limit of the average artistic outlook in her time. Only a few pioneers went a little beyond it. Originality, personality, temperament, those were considera¬ tions quite foreign to the artist’s program in the days of Rosa Bonheur’s success. Indeed in many respects her mind was rather that of a naturalist than of an artist, from our modern standpoint. Not only did she assiduously study anatomy in books, but she would do so also at the slaughter-houses, and to these expedi¬ tions, so strange lor a woman, was due her adop¬ tion of masculine costume and the official license granted her to do so. In 1847 she made a long stay in the Auvergne country and her sketches there were productive in a picture called “Le Depart pour le Marche,” which fetched 32,000 francs in 1906. From morning till eventide she would work in the fields, three sixty-eight AUGUST 1922 mceRnAoonAL accompanied, as she always was, by her faithful friend Natalie Micas. The follow¬ ing year, to celebrate the restitution of a Republican government after the mon¬ archical interval, the Salon became a kind of Independ¬ ants. There was no jury and all pictures presented were hung. Their number was 5, 1 80, more than double the usual number. Auguste Bonheur sent two pictures, one of which was a portrait of his sister. Isidore, the other brother, had one painting and a piece of sculpture, while Rosa her¬ self was represented by two pieces of sculpture and six canvases, for one of which, a fine cattle picture, she was awarded the first medal, the committee consisting of Horace Vernet, Robert Fleury, Leon Cogniet, Delacroix, Meissonier, Corot, Jules Dupre, Flandrin and Isabey. There can be no doubt that, whereas most women have found their sex a hindrance to recognition, for Rosa Bonheur it was a factor toward it, admiration for her talent having always been accompanied by curiosity in her person. Since Vigee-Lebrun no other woman artist had come to the lore in her country and the magnitude of the tasks she set herself far outdistanced those of her predecessor. In Rosa Bonheur’s time, fan and miniature painting was considered the limit of women’s capacities and as much as it was desirable they should undertake. Close after the medal followed a presentation from the State in the form of a Sevres vase and an order for a picture showing a plough scene, for in those days a picture’s subject was all important. Thus was born the famous “Labourage Niver- nais,” for many years in the Luxembourg, but which has now its place in the Louvre and which was one of the main items in the commemorative display at the Salon des Artistes Franqais this year, celebrating the centenary of the artist’s birth. She contrived to finish this work for the Salon of 1849 and in time for her father to see it just before his death. Rosa Bonheur was twenty-seven when she painted this picture, a feat unique in the annals of feminine artistic achievement. Nor has any painter, before or after, more truly expressed the calm of the animal soul. At this time her enthusiastic critics would call her the modern Paul Potter, and give her more credit than they did to Delacroix or Barye. After her father’s death Rosa continued to provide for her stepmother, brothers and sister, and in order to spare her brother Isidore from competition she gave up sculpture. In 1850 she made a trip to Germany where the doctors had advised her ailing friend Natalie to take the waters, and here, as wherever else she happened to be, her pencil was constantly busy. About this time she was sent for by the Minister for the Interior, Marquis de Moray, who informed her that the new monarchical govern¬ ment wished in its turn to show its appreciation of her talent. Would she bring her portfolios so that the subject for a picture could be discussed between them? At that particular time Rosa Bonheur was very full of “The Horse Fair,” and, though intensely Republican at heart, her work came before her opinions and she thought that here was an opportunity which would facilitate the execution of so important a canvas. So she went to M. de Morny and told him she would like the State to commission her with “The Horse Fair” for which she had brought sketches. But the coun¬ try’s representative declined the offer in favor of a sketch of “The Haymakers” for which Rosa Bonheur did not very much care, arguing that her competence in the rendering of horses had yet to be proved while her proficiency with cattle was “cerfs” BY ROSA BONHEUR AUGUST 1922 three six ty - n i n e inceRnACionAL SOTM© an ascertained fact. Rosa Bonheur labourage nivernais on tour in the English provinces, BY ROSA BONHEUR & 1 fought, but her plea that she had but he also wanted Thomas Land- latelv made a special study of horses, notably the Percheron breed, was of no avail and M. de Morny offered his price — 20,000 francs — for “The Hay¬ makers” and tor that alone. The disappointed young artist then asked to be allowed to paint “The Horse Fair” before starting upon the State commission, and to this the Minister agreed. In 1853 the great work was shown at the Salon. Her triumph was so great that henceforth Rosa Bonheur’s pictures were not required to pass before the jury. “The Horse Fair” was enormously successful. No woman and few men had ever attempted a tour de Jorce the like. A purchaser not coming forward, Rosa Bonheur sent it to Ghent, in Belgium, where the Society for the Encouragement of Fine Arts expressed its admiration by having a cameo made after it and presenting it in the form of a brooch to the artist. In 1854 she had the picture exhibited at Bordeaux, offering it to the museum of that town for the moderate price of 15,000 francs, but the offer had to be turned down. The picture was being talked about so much that M. de Morny regretted not having accepted it and sent the director for Fine Arts with a message to the artist asking her to substitute “The Horse Fair” for “The Haymakers.” But his envoy arrived just too late. The day before the picture had been sold to Mr. Gambart, picture dealer in Fondon, who, though he knew of the Bordeaux failure, was glad to pay the 40,000 francs the artist asked to let her great masterpiece go out of her native land. Mr. Gambart wanted the picture to be sent seer, brother of Sir Edwin, to engrave it. So Rosa Bonheur painted a small reproduction, which was later bought by Mr. Jacob Bell for the National Gallery in Fondon. The original “Horse Fair” was bought of Mr. Gambart by Mr. Wright who sold it again to Mr. Stuart. At the auction sale of the latter’s collection it fetched $53,000, a sum to which Air. Cornelius Vander¬ bilt contributed to permit of its acquisition for the Metropolitan Museum, where it now hangs. “The Haymakers” which is not as stupen¬ dously skillful as “The Horse Fair,” but is a fine piece of painting beautifully lighted, was shown at the following Salon (1855), where it won the gold medal. It now occurred to Mr. Gambart that it would be a good plan were the author of “The Horse Fair” to visit the British Isles in person and on occasion to be seen simultaneously with her sensa¬ tional picture. Rosa Bonheur was not fond of the idea of travel, but her love for the novels of Walter Scott and a desire to see the beautilul cattle of North Britain tempted her to accept Mr. Gambart’s proposal. This tour proved a tri¬ umphal success and the receptions Rosa Bonheur met with surpassed anything she could have imagined even had she been more vainglorious and ambitious for personal success than she was. Every one wanted the honor ol meeting the extraordinary woman, and the whole country, from the hosts in the stateliest homes of England to the man in the street, gave her a fairy-tale reception. There is a record of this wonderful tour in the letters written home by Rosa’s three seventy AUGUST 1922 inceRHACionAL companion, Mile. Micas. But not for a single moment did her modesty and common sense forsake her. Nobody borne extraordinary success and popularity as steadily and simply as she did. Some people may have thought she adopted masculine attire to draw attention to herself. Nothing could be further from the truth. There was much of the boy in her. She was one of the first women to smoke, she loved a joke, and she preferred work and country life to society. As a rule she was averse to being seen in her working garb and when visitors called would quickly slip on a skirt. When, after her English tour, Paris tried to lionize her, she quickly saw that her work was imperilled, and gave up the town home where her Friday receptions had become social events. She asked a friend to find her a retreat in the country suitable for herself, Mile. Micas and her pets, and this proved to be the Chateau de By, in the forest of Fontainebleau, where she was to spend the rest of her life. At this period engravings after Rosa Bonheur’s pictures sold as fast as they were published, while America fought for her originals. The demand was so keen that her dealers would not give her time to show her pictures at the Salon. Yet she would not allow them to hurry her over her work and had law suits with various patrons whom she kept waiting in the execution of their commissions. In some cases she had to pay damages. In others, as in that of the picture ordered by the exiled royal Due d’Aumale, she received checks for double the price she had asked. Shortly after she had moved to By she received the visit of the Empress Eugenie, who came to order a picture. This was followed by an invitation to the Imperial court and by a visit from all the social nota¬ bilities of the day, including the Prince Imperial and the Princess Metternich, who had the bad taste to suggest exchanging a picture against some bottles from an old vintage in her cellars. Rosa Bonheur, who was as proud as she was democratic, coldly rejected the offer and referred the lady to her agents. The Prince Imperial was a frequent caller. When visitors of this rank were announced to Rosa Bonheur she would make a quick change in her costume. This disappointed them, and the Prince Imperial would resort to all manner of tricks to surprise the artist in the habit for which she was famous and on one occasion his curiosity was gratified. Just a year later the Empress repeated her visit, the object of which, this time, was to fasten the red ribbon of the Legion of Honor on to her breast herself. The Empress had taken the initia¬ tive in asking for an exception in favor of the great artist, until then no women other than heroines in Red Cross work and charity being entitled to it. Rosa Bonheur was, therefore, the first woman exercising a profession to be thus distinguished, and the precedent was entirely due to the Empress’s insistence. In 1867 Rosa Bonheur broke her rule to abstain from taking part in public displays by sending work to the International Exposition. Her success abroad had made the critics bitter, according to the old principle that the absent are always at fault. They charged her with imitating the British painters and one went so far as to call her “AIiss Bonheur.” Three years later came the Franco-German War, but the regard in which Rosa Bonheur was THE HORSE FAIR BY ROSA BONHEUR has AUGUST 9 2 2 three seventy-one inceRnAcionAL STOW© :-JS pictures. Stunned with in¬ dignation, Rosa Bonheur wrote to the committee of the Salon refusing the medal, pleading that the small picture she had con¬ tributed that year did not deserve so large a distinc¬ tion, though it is well- known that this reward is supposed rather to crown a career than to mark one specified piece of work. So it happened that a few words of spite deprived the celebrated woman of su¬ preme recognition at the hands of her countrymen, a recognition she had not sought, but would have prized. But nothing good or bad which occurred to Rosa Bonheur after the death of Natalie Micas mattered very much to her. This loss left her a lonely celebrity. Among her pets were lions and lionesses, for which she entertained absolutely no fear and her house was merry with songbirds which filled aviaries even in her bedroom. Dogs, of course, were always about. One of the last great men to visit Rosa Bon¬ heur was President Carnot, who made her, from knight, an officer in the Legion of Honor in com¬ memoration of her participation in the World’s Fair at Chicago, while the great consolation of her several last years was her friendship with the American artist Miss Anna Klumpke, to whom she gave her heart, her home, and, as afterwards published, the story of her wonderful life. a circumstance which, added to her early popu¬ larity in England, deprived France of the greater amount of her output. She had abstained from the salons forty-four years and when she made her re¬ appearance there in 1899, the very year of her death, and some one proposed she should be awarded the Medaille d’Honneur, there was a hue and cry that the idea emanated from dealers to keep up the prices of her held by all the world was oxen BY ROSA BONHEUR such that her estate not only enjoyed immunity from occupation on the part ot the victorious army, but her own person, that of her friend Allle. Alicas, and her servants were given every consideration, even the animals in her stables and cages being spared slaughter and requisition. German officers used to wander round the house in the hope of catching a glimpse of the great artist, but she would never grant them admission nor even allow them to look at her pictures. A few years later she was to become great friends with the Grand-Duchess of Saxe- Coburg-Gotha. This was at Nice where she, in 1875, took to spending the winters and there received homage from all the world. During the ’90’s her best market was America, “tetes de chevres” BY ROSA BONHEUR three seventy-two AUGUST 1922 mreRHACionAL ANCIENT EGYPTIAN HARPS WITHOUT THE FOREPILLAR (Redrawn by the Georgian traveller Bruce, from sephulchral frescoes of Rameses III, 1250 B. C.) From HARP to HARPSICHORD id you ever ex¬ perience the irre¬ sistible tempta¬ tion to make old musical instru¬ ments speak, to touch the key¬ boards, to twang the strings? — only to become awake to the fact that they are but “illustrations” of their former selves, teaching the museums’ disciples their share in the history of human ingenuity, though by force of circum¬ stances condemned to eternal muteness. Did you ever realize howr it would fill these silent instru¬ ments with envy if they could see some of their more fortunate brothers and sisters — spinets, harpsichords, viols, organs, like themselves — in a spacious white-walled temple, built for their comfort, their wounded soundboards, jacks, strings and pipes healed by an artisan-surgeon’s tender hands, and their voices once more free to sing at the joyous behest of a host of admirers? This paradise of old instruments is not an idle dream. It lies in a garden pavilion, part of an old mansion in the heart of New England, where music in the Puritanical past met with but little favor, but where now, after all these stern years, the suppressed strains of two cen¬ turies and more are sweetly heard. For it is a most curious coincidence that while English reformers and English adven¬ Evolution of ingenuity and art in stringed in¬ struments from an tig u ity to the 18th century • • by □ KARL FREUND □ GREEK HARP AND LYRES PLAYED BY MUSES ( From a Greek vase in the Munich Museum) turers were relentlessly de¬ populating and colonizing the North American Continent, living lives of self imposed deprivation, the joy of staying at home back in Europe was intensified by a widespread practice of both clerical and secular music and by the possession of musical instruments which in those days had reached a height of perfection and expression seldom surpassed. This was particu¬ larly the case of the fiddle and the spinet. The knowledge among savages of sound production by vibrating strings made of hair, silk, vegetable fibres, animal gut and metal is con¬ temporary with the most primitive form of articu¬ late expression. The African Damara tightens the string of his hunting bow by means of a leather thong and sends forth weak plaintive sounds in place of the deadly arrow; but his neighbor ingeniously adds a hollow gourd to his weapon, and invents the sound box. The dis¬ covery of poliphony in one and the same string produced by alteration of its length on a fingerboard (often supplied with frets) by plucking the cord with the fingers or “plectra” of wood, metal or bone — on the harp, lute, cither, guitar, psaltery, and their prototypes of the Orient — or by whipping the melodious string with small hammers on the dulcimer, cym- august 1922 three seventy -three mceRnAcionAL bal and santir, estab- Iished the begin¬ ning of instrumental music, practiced in similar forms but with varied ac¬ complishment by the ancients in Egypt, Persia, India, Greece and Rome and in medieval Europe until the violin bow* and the keyboard released unexpected musical subleties and powers and brought on the modern era. Among the instruments of great antiquity the harp, obviously descended from the primitive archer’s bow, displayed at an early date the most ambitious musical construction and at the same time a fastidious elegance which explains the high consideration accorded to those twanging the bum (harp) strings, by the Egyptian Pharaohs. The magnificent instruments redrawn by the Georgian traveller Bruce from the tomb of Rameses III (about 1250 B. C.) are composed of vigorously tapering sound tables terminating in boat or shell shaped cuvettes crested bv heads of an astounding boldness. Sepulchral frescoes and occasional discoveries ot precious survivals have acquainted the student with a whimsical variety of harps, lutes and tri- gona, varying in form construction and having almost individual methods of manipulation — to be played vertically, horizontally, obliquely or with extended arms above one’s head, always forming a linear continuation of the player’s arms, and, when held upright, an alluring frame for the player’s physiognomy. Lyres and trigona, some¬ times approaching the harp, fitted with tuning pegs and being plucked with the player’s bare fingers; or recalling the lute, with fingerboards, frets and plectra, — these instru¬ ments of the divine attributes of joy and rhythm were soon lost in the roseate mist of Parnassus, and are now merely remembered as favorite motifs for architec¬ tural enrichments. Yet the harp lived on, from Egypt to India and to Persia, thence on the heels of the Arabs to Spain and to Northern Europe, where until quite re¬ cently in the Finnish kantele on the shores of the Baltic, the THE “OBAH,” AN AFRICAN HARP WITH GOURD AS A SOUND-BOX (In the Metropolitan Museum oj Art) pillarless harp could still be found. A curved fore¬ pillar seems to have been added by the bards to the harp of the Middle Ages. With the straighten¬ ing of the column the power of tone is immeasurably in¬ creased and semi-tones are added to the diatonic scale by a skillful pressing of the strings or later with “Tyrolian hooks,” an operation most hazardous in its results. Before Hochbrucker (1720) devised the convenience of the pedal the harp required such an uncanny dexterity of its player that to the onlooker he seemed imbued with supernatural powers. An old Irish belief would credit the harp with human animation and, according to Bunting, f Latin and Gaelic inscrip¬ tions would express the harp’s own thoughts, such as “Ego sum Regina Cithararum” (I am the Queen of the Harps), or it would tell the name ot its maker, Domdiadd Fitz Teige, or its favorite harper, such as GioIIa Patrick M’CrecIon and Diarmad M’Credon. (The Irish and Scotch pro¬ fessional harpers would nourish their finger nails until they were long and strong enough to twang the brass strings as effectively as the crow quills of the later harpsichord.) The harp was the ob ject of a peculiar idolatry. Its tone was sure to cure the bite ot the spider and Tallemant de Reaux relates in his “His- toriettes” that the Due de Guise lost his heart to Madame de Joyeuse, “who was neither young nor beautiful but played the harp to perlection.” Hochbrucker’s pedal harp, introduced to France by Gaiffre, a celebrated Iutenist who by his admiring disciples was nicknamed “King David”; and later on Erard’s double action harp, were the cause of the great vogues in eighteenth century France! and England, and among the melo- maniacs of the Empire, a vogue which has added to the beauty of the interior an object ol con¬ tinuous inspiration. The harp had become a symbol of romantic reverie and Moreau le Jeune in his ingratiating composition *The story of the bow and its impression on the development of instrumental music is in itself too comprehensive to form part of the present article. 1 Bunting, collection of ancient music of Ireland , London , i8oq. \A Cousineau harp fetched as much as 373 to 300 livres. PERSIAN SCIMITAR HARPS, WITHOUT FOREPILLAR (ABOUT I4OO A.D.) three seventy-four AUGUST 1922 2 , ' | yf DOUBLE" SPINET ^~~-/)ecc>T~a t'&d byS~^ *\jPeter' t-phul *7$ujbe?zs Made by Hans Rucker the Elder in 1 579 — one of the only two knoivn instru¬ ments of this kind. It is composed of a large and a small portable spinet, with separate action. The interior of the cover is painted with a scene of Apollo and Marsyas, while the panels Jacing the keyboard and cover of the smaller instrument have village scenes and “putti” at play. DECORATED VIRGINAL I66G One of the few surviving keyboard in¬ struments of Carolean England , made by Adam Leversidge. It is painted with views of the Mall in St. James' Park, with Arlington House in the background. The keyboard is framed by marqueterie panels of exotic woods, and rests on a contemporary turned walnut stand. GF2 SPINET MARIE ANTOINETTE- C~yyiacle in-FF^a-T-is 1778 Ladies’ clavecin by Pascal Taskin, in a case of cream-colored lacquer, painted by Cbristopbe Huel, with motifs from La Fontaine’s Fables, and emblems of Love and Music. jfrt UPRIGHT SPINET (fi/Ifade in. (G-.. >i? t>7. 7 . I5Q5 This early instrument, called a clavicitberium, was made in Cremona, and painted with figure subjects in sky blue and gold, and the arms of Pope Gregory XIII in a cartouche. The sounding board is enriched with two gilt “roses.” yf LACQUERED HARPSICHORD 1710 The work oj Johann Hass , this instrument is fitted with eight stops and four sets of strings. The keys are of ivory and tortoise¬ shell, and the exterior is painted to simulate tortoise-shell. The interior of the cover is decorated with “chinoiseries” in gold on a scarlet lacquer ground, and the sounding- board with flowers and emblems in dis¬ temper. jf DECORATED HARPSICHORD ^y\/facl& irv ^J±rilrwe'r{p ; I (500 ^Jsymade rn, (y^runcc 1750 Double keyboard clavecin by Hans Rucker the Elder, re-strung and fitted with unison stops by Blancbet, oj Paris. The interior of the lid is painted by Francois Boucher, u’itb Pastorales: the sounding-board bears, in distemper, the elements of floral sprays, and the monogram of the maker in a “rose.” The Vernis Martin stand is of the period Louis Quin/.e. mreRnAcionAL “L’Accord Parfait” sees the very perfection of harmonious human relation in a lesson at harping. The aesthetic outlines of the harp at all times invited the sculptor’s skill. The crudely hewn clarshech (Ireland’s Harp) is headed by bold carv¬ ings of Irish fox hounds and imaginative traceries of Celtic legends; the harp of Charles II is fes¬ tooned by Grinling Gibbons, and Gouthiere’s inspired mounts of bronze grace the harp of Marie Antoinette by Cousineau. And harps were captivatingly painted by the Martins in the Chinese taste, or a la Francaise with amorini, love birds and flowers, or covered with marqueterie by master ebenistes ; the Adelphi Parnassians (the brothers Adam and their court of artisans) applied on the so u n d i n g boards of glistening satinwood the classic symbols and scrolls of Pergolesi. A salon without the harp’s graceful presence was unthinkable. Harp recitals were in fashion everywhere, and those at M al¬ ma ison were the most memorable music events of the First Empire. And in 1 8 1 8, under the Res¬ toration, Madame de Genlis writes in her “Dictionnaire des Eti¬ quettes de la Cour”: “The harp will never grow out of fashion.” But the prophecy of this great and venerable authority on the “bon gout du grand monde” has not been ful¬ filled. The gallant art of the arpeggio has deserted our dreams, no longer reposes one’s eye on the slender bodies of such satisfying proportions so sadly needed in our utilitarian interiors; but grandly caparisoned the harp sits in the orchestra pit hailing Wagner’s gods in Walhalla with their now mighty voices. On our errand following the current of musical expression on string instruments, we observe tributaries of ingenuity arriving from all sides. The lute,* ancient emblem of the Hindu goddess Saraswati, who, seated on a peacock, twangs the “vina,” recalls in its early appearance as the Persian el oud the same jaunty outline and the principal elements of construction which char¬ acterized the mouthpiece of gallantry of the sixteenth century- — a pine “table” pierced by a CALYPSO ENTERTAINS TELE- MACHUS ON HER LYRE ( From a painting by Angelica Kaufman in tbe collection of Mrs. Nicholas Brady ) *Lute, lutb (Latin, Testudo, leatber-back turtle.) soundhole covered with a carved “rose” on a body (belly) shaped very like an elongated turtle. Its strings were usually paired and each pair was tuned in unison except the highest, a single string called the “chanterelle,” which carried the melody while the others played the accompaniment. In “Poesies d’Amadis Jamyn” we find: “ Quand je la voy si gentille et si belle Si doucement les langues manier du lut aimable Et sa voix marier Au son mignard que dit la Chanterelle” The lute — ‘ ‘omnium instrumentorum prin- ceps” — ruler of a vast kingdom from the gigantic chitarrone to the toylike pochette by Stradivarius, was re¬ warded for sweet¬ ness of tone by in¬ lays of ivory and silver in graceful al¬ legorical designs and later with leaves of crimson tortoise shell held bv finely en¬ graved filets of pre¬ cious metals. Its sound carries visions of the radiant Diane de Poictiers and of the poetic Ninon de L’EncIos (the daughter of a cele¬ brated lutenist). Brantome en¬ chants those who love the Scottish Queen by saying that Mary Stuart “sang well to the lute, which she touched very prettily with her beautiful white hand and her beautiful fingers, which even Aurora’s did not surpass.” Distressing as it may seem, the magic of the lute, its healing power, experienced by the wounded Bayard, the Chevalier sans peur et sans reproche and its enchantment loses its glamor when one thinks of the task its owner faced in keeping it playing. Mattheson (1713) writes: “If a lutenist attains the age of eighty you may be sure he has tuned sixty years, and worse of it is, that among a hundred players, especially of the amateurs, scarcely two are capable of tuning with accuracy. Now there is something amiss wTith the strings; now with the frets; and now again with the screws, so that I have been told that in Paris it costs as much money to keep a lute as to keep a horse.” Toward the end of the seventeenth century this organ of gallant music was being outdone by august 1922 three eighty-seven inceRnAcionAL OTM© in public favor. The inventories of Henry VIII are replete with its mention and under Elizabeth virginals were installed in barber shops for the edification of a suffering clientele. It seems a gallant legend that it was in honor of the Virgin Queen, herself an accomplished player, this instru¬ ment was named. The theory that all but vestals would profane the virginal’s keys is alluring, too. The name in reality is probably devotional, given by the nuns to the instrument which carried their hymns sung to the glory of the Holy Virgin. In England during the sixteenth and the greater part of the seventeenth centuries the name “virginal” was used lor all kinds of keyboards — • psalteries and clavichords, as well. In other countries only small, portable pentagonal boxes shaped like lecterns were known as virginals. HARP OF BRIAN BOROIMHE (BORU), SAID TO HAVE BEEN MADE FOR BRIAN THE BRAVE IN THE FIRST HALF OF THE ELEVENTH CENTURY (From the Replica in Metropolitan Museum of Art ) the keyboard string instruments, though the Circe at Whitehall still plucked the guitar for the Merry Mon arch, and Louis Quartorze paid vast sums of money to “joueurs du Iuth de la cham- bre” and to those “au service des pages,” and while the more ambitious mastered the newly prefected bow, the household instru¬ ment of the day had become the virginal. For this we can trust Pepys’ observation, written during London’s great fire, in 1666: “Rivers full of lighters and boats taking in goods and good goods swimming in the water and only I observed that hardly one lighter or boat in three that had the goods ot a house in, but there was a pair of virginals in it.” However, long be¬ fore Pepys and the Res¬ toration, the virginal or spinet was established THE DALWAY HARP, AN EARLY IRISH CLARSHECH COVERED WITH GAELIC AND LATIN INSCRIPTIONS (From the Metropolitan Museum of Art) three eighty-eight august 1922 mceRnAcionAL “jLE PARFAIT ACCORD” FROM THE PAINTING BY MOREAU LE JEUNE ENGRAVED BY F. J. HELMAN ( Courtesy oj Kennedy Company) plectra of horn or metal, which were fastened by rings to the fingers of the player. The Arab kanoon repre¬ sented the Oriental prototype of the beaten stringed instru¬ ment; the psaltery when beaten with mallets is called the dulci¬ mer, ( dulcis , Latin, “sweet,” and gs'Aoq, Greek, “sound”). It is known in the near east as the santir. A santir on an old Persian painting is most illus¬ trative of the progress of the soundbox. It is pentagonal in form like the virginal, its table bears two movable bridges, act¬ ing as pitch measurers and the vibration is realized by curved sticks which combine the action of the crowquill and the mallet of the dulcimer. All keyboard psalteries were built on the principle of “jacks and quills” — a simple combina¬ tion of small wooden uprights i8tH CENTURY FRENCH HARP BY COUSINEAU, SAID TO HAVE BELONGED TO MARIE ANTOINETTE ( Courtesy oj Henry Symons ) They were all of the psaltery class and their protruding keyboards were protected by folding hoods on hinges. Whether the key¬ board of the hydraulic organ known to the Alexandrian Greeks carried its faraway inspiration to the unknown early monastic genius who contrived the key leverage, or whether the invention developed from the bridge of the pitch measuring monochord, or from the peg-stops of the medieval rotta, the newly evolved principle appears first applied to the tangent action of the clavichord. The music produced by the clavichord was of a timid but soulful quality, which could be enhanced by endless subtleties of touch. The profound respect inspired by its celestial tone is reflected in a letter of the year 1 529 addressed to young Elena Bembo by her father, the poet Pietro, who writes: “Touching thy request for leave to play the monocordo (misnomer for elavicordo) I answer that by reason of thy tender years thou canst not know that playing is an art for light-minded women. And I would that thou shouldst be the most amiable and the most chaste and modest maiden alive. Besides, if thou wert to play badly, thy playing would cause thee little pleasure, and no little shame. But in order to play well, thou must needs give up ten or twelve years to this exercise, without even thinking of aught else.” With all its tenderness of appeal, its rising and fading tremolo, the clavichord wras too gentle to carry its beguiling voice very far beyond the player’s own ears. The need for a more forceful instrument was supplied by the keyboard psaltery. This instrument though named after the psalterion of classic antiquity, a frame string instrument of the lyre or trigonon family, was a soundbox instrument composed of a horizontal table strung with a great number of sets of three, four or five animal-gut strings, tuned in unison and twanged by AUGUST 922 three eighty-nine mceRnAcionAL SOTM© called jacks furnished with plectra of crowquill points or flips of pre¬ pared cowhide. The jacks rising with the depression of the keys permitted the strings to be twanged by the plectra. The vibration was swiftly subdued by cloth dampers fastened on the upper ends of the jacks. The plectrum homeward bound escaped the string by aid of a pivoting tongue (Iinguetta mobile) acting on a small metal spring fastened to its shoulder. Virginal, spinet (from its points, resembling thorns, or spines) and clavicitherium sup¬ plied one string to each key, the harpsichord two, three or more tuned in unison, until Ruckers added the octave string to the action of the spinet. In striking contrast to the homogeneity of construction stood the wealth of original thought displayed in the making of coffres which encased these musical boxes. They were made of cypress, cedar or pine wood enriched by the Italians with the extravagant magnificence of the seafaring magnates and decorated with appropriate scenes by master painters: color¬ ful pageantries, ideal land¬ scapes, pastoral and bucolic themes, baechic and terpsi- chorean groups and an inex¬ haustible variety of pleasant motifs, which were often pic¬ torial reflections of the players’ and listeners’ delight. To fathom the wondrous admiration of the upper classes for the mysterious oracle asked to communicate its melodious secrets by the mere touch of two rows of dark and light keys, one needs but read the description of a spinet made in 1579 for Carlo Trivulzio by Annibale dei Rossi of Milan. It reads like a tale from the Arabian Nights. Its case was panelled with veneers of ebony relieved by plaques of precious stones in delicately shaped cartouches. The panels again were framed by bands of ivory studded with jewels; in all, nineteen hundred and twenty-eight precious and semi-precious stones (including pearls, emeralds, rubies, garnets, crystals, carnelians, jaspers, tur¬ quoises, amethysts, agates and topazes) were employed to beautify the small body, which did not exceed five feet in length. The keys were of light and dark agate, bordered with ivory and lapis, and they were joyously Hanked at both ends with ex¬ quisitely carved figurines. Almost frivolous in the light of this oriental splendor, ap¬ pears a contemporary instru¬ ment bearing the date 1 579 and the maker’s initials in a carved and gilded “rose,” a double spinet by Hans (Jo¬ hannes) Ruckers of Antwerp, (now in Miss Skinner’s collec¬ tion) not only remarkable for its appearance and rarity, but for its place as a milestone in the progress of keyboard music. It marks the advent of the octave string on a small spinet of its own, called ottavino (or ottavina) which can be taken from its berth to be played sep¬ arately or left snugly installed in the complete instrument, adding brilliance by its high soft tones to the “jeu commun.” That the shells of the most cherished instruments often were beautified years after their completion — a custom becom¬ ing a mania in the Eighteenth Century — can be conclusively proved by a double spinet tra¬ ditionally called the “Rubens- Ruckers.” The master style and the copious imagination of Peter Paul Rubens, lavished on the instrument after 161 1, carry the conviction that it lived an humbler life for a generation before its hut of drably painted BACK AND FRONT VIEWS OF A POCHETTE BY STRADIVARI US ( In the collection of Miss Belle Skinner ) ARAB LUTE (EL OUD) ALMOST IDENTICAL WITH EUROPEAN TYPE THE LUTE SEEN IN A PAINTING BY GERARD TERBORCH ( Collection of Mrs. Edwin A. Shewan) three ninety august 1922 mreRHACionAL sram© ST. BLASIUS PLAYING THE ROTTA, A PRIMI¬ TIVE STRING INSTRU¬ MENT WITH STOPS OF THE QTH CENTURY cypress was trans¬ formed, verilv, into an enchanted villa. The spinet, though more asserting than the clavichord, lacked the latter’s response to varied modulation. It inherited its “temper¬ ament” from the lute, its province of har¬ monies, its instinct for sustaining or relaxing tone; and this rela¬ tionship procured the spinet the same public sentiment long en¬ joyed by the indis¬ pensable lute. The spinet and the lute are linked in a delightful and most informative passage taken from “Contens,” a play by Odet de Tournebu which had its Paris premiere in 1584. “Monsieur,” goes the advice of the benevolent Fran^oise, “you do well indeed to love Genevieve, because apart from the fact that she loves none but you, and that your reflec¬ tion never leaves her heart and her eyes, she has many good qualities which make her as lovable as any girl in France. She is a good Catholic, rich, and a good housekeeper. She speaks well, writes like an angel, she plays on the lute, on the spinet, sings her part with as¬ surance and knows how to dance and lead as well as a born Parisian.” The comparative mo¬ bility of the spinet gave it a long life. Even when the harpsichord was at its height of per¬ fection its smaller and less forceful sister was still in demand. The repeated mention of straps, and velvet and leather pads made for THE PSALTERY THE PERSIAN SANTIR, ORIENTAL PROTOTYPE OF THE DULCIMER INTERIOR OF AN UPRIGHT SPINET OR CLAVICITHERIUM SHOWING THE VERTICALLY' PLACED SOUND-BOX (See color plate) the spinets of “madame” or “monsieur” indicate that these instruments were carried from room to room and likely from chateau to chateau. In England under Henry VIII there seems to have been little need for dis¬ placement, as in this kingdom of amplitude there were instruments for nearly every room in every castle and for nearly every occasion. A virginal that once belonged to Queen Eliza¬ beth was described in a catalogue of the South Kensington exhibition of 1874 as being in an excellent state of preservation, which would indicate that it had enjoyed a sedentary existence, and justify the assumption that the music loving Queen was equipped with a different virginal wherever she made her appearance. The virginals then were full grown spinets with an average compass of from four to five octaves and capable of rendering the contents of the interesting volume of music published in London in 1611 and entitled “Parthenia or Maydenhead of the first musicke, that ever was printed for the Virginalls com¬ posed by three famous masters — William Byrd, Dr. John Bull and Orlando Gibbons, gentilmen of his Majestie’s most illustrous Chapell.” This interest¬ ing codification of Eliza¬ bethan music, gen¬ erally called “The Vir¬ ginal Book of Queen Elizabeth” started a new craft of instrument makers, independent from Italy or Flanders, and chiefly represented THE DULCIMER AUGUST 1922 three ninety-one mteRHACionAL sotm© JJ'/ ./J/J..JJ/ by John Loosemore, Stephen Keen and Adam Leversidge, the latter author of one of the most ingratiating spinets known to the amateur, both musically and decoratively, called the “Nell Gwyn Virginal.” We are grateful to former possessors, and the present custodian, Miss Belle Skinner, for having tenaciously preserved the tradition of Nell Gwyn’s original ownership. No tableau vivant could equal the vision of the British Ninon’s slender fingers touching the sombre keys, no association could be more felici¬ tous in conveying the personal charm of this vir¬ ginal. Not the sweetly but naively painted cover with its sparkling array ot gaily dressed ladies and befeathered gentlemen posing on the Mall in St. James Park, nor the exotic mixture of make- believe and real marqueterie, nor the slender walnut stand of timidly turned spirals, but the combination of all these elements leaves the im¬ pression of a French ballad coming from Nell Gwyn’s beautiful lips with a primly captivating British accent. Truly the fancy is delightful! The “Nell Gwyn Virginal” occupies an excep¬ tional position, as it finally claims the right of the spinet to be regarded as an object of interior dec¬ oration, as a piece of furniture. It ceases to be a miraculous stranger in the room into which it is brought to perform. On the Continent in the seventeenth century “stands” were usually make¬ shifts and unworthy of the splendid burdens they had to carry, or in a few in¬ stances fantasies of the instru¬ ment maker’s mind, which showed the dilettante’s disre¬ gard for the prevalent style of furniture designing and gave the instrument when placed in well furnished rooms a rather arro¬ gant appearance. (Vide the spinet with the Rouen tile with LADY PLAYING A I7TH CENTURY SPINET OF TRAPEZOID SHAPE ( From a contemporary tile of Rouen Jaience) its stand ot lour cumbersome vase balusters topped by most unexpected capitals.) Different the “Nell Gwyn.” Its merits as a fine example of the Carolean cabinetmaker’s art are as obvious as the touching resonance of its strings on a soundbox as perfect today as when it aided Nell’s first operatic and worldly conquests. The spinet, musically outrivalled by the harpsichord, held its place as a delightful decora¬ tive accessory in tasteful interiors. The wing shaped variations of the old pentagon, or trapeze adopted under James II and William and Mary are reposeful to the eye. The back of the instru¬ ment fits snugly to the wall, the head is wavily curved and the obliquely protruding keyboard turns its pretty keys invitingly into the room. (Vide the spinet by Thomas Hitchcock, London, 1700, Metropolitan Museum, New York). But in spite of this charm and its sentimental associa¬ tions, the spinet was then doomed to an early departure and harpsichord and piano acted as pall-bearers. An advertisement headed “An- nonces, Affiches et Avis Divers,” on May 7, 1765 reads like a death notice. In this the amateurs are offered: “An excellent table spinet, five feet long, eighteen inches deep, of which the cover is very agreeably painted by a good master which can be used as an overdoor; price six Louis — the cover alone was valued at ten Louis by connoisseurs.” Although this bid for vandalism openly admitted that the spinet was dethroned, the coquetterie of court and gentry, consistently doing the unforeseen, kept the sweet relic from being declassed. Spinets by Ruckers were still being “remade” by Blanchet and re¬ decorated by Audran and Huet, and Jean - Jacques Rousseau nearly lost his reason for joy over the gift of an antiquated instrument, and as late as 1778, when the piano was dangerously I 6th century jewelled spinet MADE FOR CARLO TRIVULZIO OF MILAN, BY ANNIBALE DEI ROSSI (In the South Kensington Museum ) three ninety -two august 1922 mceRHACionAL SOTM® threatening even the harpsichord, Pascal Taskin, the celebrated “claveciniste” built a delicately formed spinet for the Queen, with gondoled sides, like a jewel casket, and covered with finely drawn subjects from La Fontaine’s Fables on a yellow Vernis Martin ground. It stood, we learn from the Marquise de Gouvernet, at Trianon to teach Dauphin and Princesse Royale the magic ol a tranquil past. A symbol of feudalism, too “decadent” to carry the vigorous strains of the Marseillaise, this little instrument, made for a queen, suffered the indignities of all aristocrats. Thanks to a good fate, however, it escaped the guillotine and served a humorous and gourmande Jacobine as a laundry board. In 1828 it was discovered and returned to honor by Josephine Martin, a well-known pianist. Ever since it has lived in the best surroundings. Recognized by the Societe Nationale cles Beaux Arts in its exhibition (1880 at Bagatelle) as the “Epinette de la Reine Marie Antoinette,” a clear pedigree followed the little gem until it reached its present appreciative ownership. In chronologically travelling backward to the origin of the spinet’s great rival, the harpsi¬ chord, we are intrigued by small upright cases resembling reliquaries or miniature bookcases, highly architectural of design, usually fitted with double doors which opened on a harp-shaped vertical sounding board. These “jack and quill” instruments, mostly of the single string, but occasionally of the double string type, are called clavicitheria (“claves,” key, and “cithara,” Roman “harp”). A diminutive clavicitherium or clavicembalo verticale came from the Vatican. It has a compass of but two octaves and two tones and a negligible string length, but it produces a vibrating sound which strangely haunts. It is said to have come from Cremona, the cradle of the violin, and to have been joined of the mysterious woods which could be made to resound by the touch of a metal bar when still part of the growing tree. The cresting bears the arms of Pope Gregory XIII (1572 to 1585), champion of education and art and author of the revision of our calendar. Its exterior is conceived as a portal with columns and doors decorated with crimson and gold cherubim after Giovanni da Fiesole on a rich sky-blue ground. From the beginning of the seventeenth century the Ruckers family, Johannes, the father, and his equally gifted sons, Frans, Andreas, Hans and Anton, seem to have supplied an ever increasing demand for their instruments, presented to their patrons with unfailing taste, in cases of extraor¬ dinary beauty. Rubens, Nicolas Maes, Teniers, Brill, Wouverman, Palamedes, are mentioned among the Dutchmen and Flemings employed to trim these cases with the most pleasing composi¬ tions their minds could invent. A double key¬ board harpsichord by Jean Couchet, nephew of Hans Ruckers the Younger (Metropolitan Mu¬ seum, No. 2362) is of a very fine quality and in an excellent state of preservation. It is particu¬ larly interesting because of its lute stop, often mentioned in writings and inventories of that time but rarely to be found existing on instru¬ ments ol this early date (about 1650). That the Grand Monarque did not overlook the clavecin with its ability to entertain and enchant large gatherings and with its possi¬ bilities for alluring decoration, can be demon¬ strated by a number of beautiful examples at the “Cluny,” at the “Conservatoire” and in private possessions. We also hear of a clavecin by Boule, and of others covered with Oriental lacquer, their stands enriched with bronze mounts gilded by Vincent. The beginning of the eighteenth century was marked by a restlessness in the inner circle of “clavecinism.” Composers, virtuosi and makers seemed unwilling to accept Ruckers as the last word of technical perfection. The efforts of these men were directed both toward enlarging and toward reducing the size of the clavecin. The problem of a more powerful instrument than the type made by the Ruckers family was solved by Johannes Haas of Hamburg, who in 1710 developed a double-banked clavecin called “fluegel” (from its resemblance to the wings of a bird) which with the aid of six varying sets of strings produced an amazing gradation of tone. For fifty years it stood unsurpassed. In France the menace of Cristofori’s little hammers and the conflict between the growing demand for mechanical innovations and the public’s disapproval of awkward proportions forced the clavecin makers to try technical experi¬ ments on the models of their great predecessors, whose choice of outline had been found irre¬ proachable. It is therefore not surprising that the illustrious Ruckers family appears in inven¬ tories of the eighteenth century as the makers of numbers of clavecins, refitted with action and keys and decorations by later hands. The culmination of this constructive revival, unique in ait history for its general acceptance by a public proud of its own original achievements, can be found in the sale of a “Ruckers-Taskin” which took place in Paris about 1775, which realized the stupendous prix d’amateur of six thousand two hundred and forty Iivres. august 1922 three ninety -three mceRnAcionAL A PANEL IN COLORED ALABASTER AND GOLD, ST. MARY’S CHURCH, TUXEDO, N. Y. LEE LAWRIE, SCULPTOR Lee LciWeie -f : 'Architectural Sculptor f all the arts, architecture has dedicated her¬ self most faith¬ fully to the ser¬ vice of the church and civic life; sculpture, her intimate, followed closely, finding its true mission in ministering to architecture’s needs. So irrevocably interwoven are the histories of these two arts that it would be impossible to attempt to follow and understand the development of sculpture from its beginnings other than to consicier it in its relation to architecture. We may look back for greatest inspiration to the two supreme creative periods of organic architecture, the Greek and the Northern Gothic styles, when all the sculpture that contributed so largely to the charm of a structure was sub¬ ordinated to one all-embracing architectonic thought and was conceived as an integral part of the entire composition. But such a union is rare. The Renaissance fostered the spirit of individual¬ ism, producing the masterpieces of men, each famous in his own particular metier. The result was a miracle of beauty and richness, a triumphant assemblage of exquisite details that were held together and made harmonious through some profound artistic instinct. And yet it is evident that no one all-pervading idea existed in the mind of the architect, else we would find the proper subordination of beauty in details to the grandeur and the superiority of structural unity. American goes back to first principles of his art and attains beauty in structural unity • • by □ HANNA TACHAU □ It is an interesting event, then, to find that there is a sculptor living today whose art is in¬ divisible from the architectural source from which it springs. So thoroughly is Mr. Lee Lawrie (whom I am introduc¬ ing to you) imbued with the spirit, the specific character, of the particular architecture with which he has to deal, that when we first see his work we realize that here is an artist who does not picture his designs in terms of sculptured units, but views his art in its largest aspect — as architecture conceived in sculptured form. We feel at once that here is no dallying with idle embellishment or superfluous ornament. His sculpture is neither a detail casually applied nor is it used objectively as pure enrichment. It stands as the most living part of the building itself, expressing in symbolic form its character and purpose, emphasizing its type without making any attempt to exploit its possibilities as an adequate background lor exhibiting the sculp¬ tor’s own prowess as an artist. Whatever form his flights of fancy may take, whether it be a detail or a group of statues, a bas-relief or carved folia¬ tions, it never projects itself out of the general scheme nor becomes a disturbing note in the harmony of the finished design. The two most pretentious and perhaps signifi¬ cant projects with which Mr. Lawrie has been associated in recent years are the imposing reredos of St. Thomas’s Church and the sculpture three ninety-J our august 1922 mteRnACionAc SOTM© and innumerable models for the Harkness Mem¬ orial at Yale University. Other things that he has done show as fine a flavor and reveal perhaps even a more intimate and personal presentment, but the scope and splendor of these two undertak¬ ings seem to leap almost beyond the ordinary imagination. The sculpture of this rere- dos, modelled and exe¬ cuted during the dis¬ tressing days of the war, was completed in ten months. The work on the Harkness Mem¬ orial was finished in two years. This record of achievement, of untir¬ ing effort to produce all that such a venture im¬ plies in a specified time, has not been surpassed even in the most pro¬ ductive days of creative ability. But herein lies the infinite and particu¬ lar task of an architec¬ tural sculptor, whose work is explicitly a part of the building. He must work hand in hand with the architect, enriching with orna¬ ment, suggesting with symbols, enhancing with beauty the struc¬ ture that finds its per¬ fect fulfilment only when it is clothed in all its accessories. A matchless ex¬ ample of this unity is found in the reredos of St. Thomas’s Church, where both architect and sculptor seem im¬ bued with the same aesthetic purpose, re¬ vealing all the poetry, the mysticism that is the essence of Gothic architecture. Once within the entrance, the eye imme¬ diately leaps to the chancel, where the splendor of the great reredos seems to concentrate and re¬ flect the whole of the architect’s intent. It rises majestically, presenting its dramatic assemblage of sculptured figures, delicately carved niches, and slender pinnacles that mount from the altar in ever-increasing richness of detail, until it touches the very apex of the main vault of the church. No more beau¬ tiful achievement in modern ecclesiastical art exists today. Immediately above the high altar, sil¬ houetted against the shadows formed by the deep recess, stand a group of figures show¬ ing St. Thomas on bended knee, acknowl¬ edging the Risen Christ. Surmounting this re¬ cessed panel, a huge cross vaults upward, capped by a diadem and a crown of thorns, and surrounded by adoring angels. How flowing, how beautifully certain are the lines of these exquisite figures, and how adequately they fill their allotted spaces! The whole panel is enclosed by a wealth of carved deco¬ ration-scrolls, foliations and emblems, symbolic of the church. Rising above the cross, the impressive figures of Christ, St. Mary and the beloved St. John are seen, and all about and above them are stationed — each in its own niche, topped by intricately carved canopies, and separated by slender columns — saints and apostles, missionaries and reformers, and the great English and American prelates of the Episcopal Church. This stately throng of figures, studied minutely as separate problems, and again in their relationship to each other, form a living entity, echoing the VIRGIN AND CHILD IN COLORED ALABASTER, ONYX AND SILVER, CHURCH OF ST. VINCENT FERRER LEE LAWRIE, SCULPTOR AUGUST 1922 three ninety-jive mceRHACionAL OTOE© spirit that animates the struc¬ ture as a whole, yet introduc¬ ing to it, by specific touches, a fresh vitality and a new verve and character. The spiritual quality inherent in Gothic ecclesiastical art is revealed in the asceticism of the thin, draped figures of the early martyrs, whose look of resignation and suffering are charac¬ teristic of Medieval types. Mr. Lawrie, so quick to grasp the essentials, and equally quick in sensing the dependence of sculpture upon architecture, always works in the specific char¬ acter of the building which he is to adorn, evolving his sculpture out of the horizontal, vertical and arching lines of architecture. So it was in the THE MAIN PORTAL OF THE CHURCH OF ST. VINCENT FERRER, NEW YORK CITY BERTRAM GROSVENOR GOODHUE, ARCHITECT LEE LAWRIE, SCULPTOR three ninety-six AUGUST 1922 mceRnAcionAL days of the thir¬ teenth century. The sculpture of Chartres, Amiens, Rheims is as differ¬ ent in character as is the difference in the Cathedrals themselves. The emaciated, elon¬ gated figures of his saints are true to Gothic type and he uses these long, straight forms to link his figures to the perpendicular lines about them. But not alone does he achieve the Gothic spirit by re¬ sorting to ancient methods. The por¬ traits of the Church dignitaries, men who lived in more recent times, are rendered in a very modern manner to conform with the needs of our day. They are splendid portraits of individualized personages, yet through the breadth and simplicity of their modelling and the fine restraint that eliminates all but the essentials, they are perfectly in tune with the whole fine fabric of the reredos ; they are essentially Gothic. It is interesting to compare this tour de force of ecclesiastical Gothic, in which the architect is forced to conform, in a great degree, to past precedents and to follow certain traditions, with the Gothic that is made to lend itself to scholastic purposes. Much of the charm, the living quality, that animates the re¬ markable group of buildings known as the Harkness Mem¬ orial, is due to the enchant¬ ment emanating from the Gothic spirit that encourages originality in detail, intimacy of treatment and a certain lively freedom of expression. Here the sculptor again scores. In Mr. Lawrie’s presentment of the Gothic there is a new note. He does not merely repeat something that is dead and gone, but is stirred to a new MEMORIAL GROUP JAMES GAMBLE ROGERS, ARCHITECT LEE LAWRIE, SCULPTOR creativeness that reflects our own era, yet has in it his admiration of the past. He deals with modern themes, with our own history that has but recently been lived or which is still in the mak¬ ing, and he creates and makes live for¬ ever the images of men who have con¬ tributed to the glory of former generations, as well as to our own. Although his work is full of quaint surprises, as is character¬ istic of Gothic craftsmanship, appearing upon the entrance archways, occur¬ ring as playful rather than fantastic gargoyles upon exteriors, or as ornaments and models for the interiors of these delightful “Quads,” the Mem¬ orial Tower called forth his fullest powers as , a creative artist. This tapering shaft that lifts belfry on belfry, growing ever lighter and more exuberant in form and color and ornament, reaches its cul¬ mination in rich traceries, delicate carvings and feathery pinnacles whose topmost finials are lost in the mystery of upper light — ever true to the Gothic spirit. Upon the eight corner buttresses that appear half-way up the belfry are canopied niches that mark the heroic figures of Yale’s most eminent sons. Here stand Elihu Yale, Jona¬ than Edwards, Nathan Hale, Noah Webster, Fenimore Cooper, John C. Calhoun, Samuel F. B. Morse and Eli Whitney — steadfast sentinels, guarding and watching the future generations who may enter the sacred portals of their Alma Mater. Again in dealing FIGURE OF SOCRATES FROM THE HARKNESS MEMORIAL ARCHWAY AT YALE UNIVERSITY LEE LAWRIE, SCULPTOR AUGUST IQ22 three ninety-seven inreRHACionAL A PORTION OF THE REREDOS OF st. Thomas’s CHURCH, NEW YORK CITY BERTRAM GROSVENOR GOODHUE Architect LEE LAWRIE Sculptor three ninety-eight august 1922 mceRHACionAL otoe© FIGURE OF JOHN C. CALHOUN FIGURE OF S. F. B. MORSE with modern portraiture, Mr. La wrie shows his rare feeling for decoration. We are confronted with presentments of modern men whose likenesses he has carefully studied from reliable data, and yet they are never modelled too realistically nor finished too mi¬ nutely. The very limitations of ancient handicrafts helped to contribute to the undeniable charm that we find in the old masterpieces, and there is much of this quality that gives delight in Mr. Lawrie’s sculpture. Some of the figures lend themselves naturally to such treatment, but others of a more classic type were persuaded by subtle handling to accommodate themselves to THREE FIGURES FROM THE TOWER OF THE HARKNESS MEMORIAL GROUP AT YALE UNIVERSITY LEE LAWRIE, SCULPTOR the Gothic spirit that pervades the whole architectural scheme. Above these vast figures, in the belfry open¬ ings, are others, smaller in size, of Phidias, Homer, Aristotle and Euclid, symbolizing the arts and sciences; upon the central buttresses, sil¬ houetted against the lantern openings on either side, appear figures unfettered in their imagery, representing Business, Law, Medicine, the Minis¬ try; and in the angle of the corner piers are twelve more figures typifying Life, Progress, War, Death, Peace, Prosperity, Effort, Order, Justice, Truth, Freedom and Courage. The noble forms, the bigness of style, the breadth of drapery, but above august 1922 three ninety-nine mtermAcionAL SOT all the unity of the design with the architectural structure, proclaim the genius of the artist. And once again we are introduced to themes bearing directly upon our own history, for upon the light buttresses that have ascended ever higher, form¬ ing the corners of the lantern, are martial forms, reminiscent of the soldiers who gave their lives in the country’s wars, from the Revolution to the late World War. Looking down from still greater heights peer the whimsical heads of gargoyles that impersonate, with ironic humor, the different activities of the undergraduate, scholastic, liter¬ ary, social and athletic. Masks of the classic poets, who have been the inspiration of men, generation after generation, also have a place here. As the tower rises, lifting its head to a higher plane of romance and beauty, its richness of ornament grows until it finds its final blossoming in the most exquisite traceries and in a wealth of delicate sculpture. In the many other buildings that bear the impress of Mr. Lawrie’s art there is always pres¬ ent the same power for assimilating the archi¬ tect’s purpose, which results in revealing his own remarkable versa¬ tility. He has perhaps done nothing finer than the sculptured figures and ornamentation that appear upon the facade of St. Vincent Ferrer’s, which are vigor¬ ously modelled to suit the robust character of the church. The cutting is left in the rough, and what could be more beautifully composed than the group above the arched entrance of the central doorway? Each figure is charmingly adjusted to the shape of the niche with which it is associated, yet they are all united by the converging lines of the figures and the flow of the graciously arranged draperies. Mr. Lawrie believes that the backbone of sculpture is design, and that no matter how beau¬ tiful a work of art may be, or how skillfully pre¬ sented, if fundamentally it is not based upon structural design it cannot successfully fulfil its mission. This is why we feel that in his work technical perfection is never glorified to the exclusion of the more important things he has to say. His hand is made obedient to the dictates SANTIAGO A MARBLE PANEL FOR THE HOUSE OF WALDRON GILLESPIE, MONTI- CITO, CALIFORNIA LEE LAWRIE, SCULPTOR of the artist’s brain, and he uses his technique not as an end in itself but as a servant to do his bidding and to realize the aim of his ideal. It is fruitless to attempt to speak in detail of all his artistic achievements that may be seen throughout the country, yet mention must be made of his sculptured ornament for the West Point buildings, of his embellishment of more than fifty churches in various cities and of his decora¬ tions for a number of municipal buildings. Of his more intimate commissions, there is none more appealing than the haunting beauty of the “Virgin and Child” carved from onyx, with insets of alabaster and crown and sceptre of silver-gilt, that looks down benignly from the wall in St. Vincent Ferrer’s. We wish, however, that it had been his hand that had touched it with color, rather than that the “toning down” should have been left to others. His subtlety of model¬ ling and delicacy of carving is beautifully exemplified in the orna¬ mentation of a house and garden and bridge in Monticito, Califor¬ nia. Here he is in a more Classic mood and in the almost elusive quality of these very low reliefs, we see his complete departure from the simple, dar¬ ing, naive expression of his Gothic style. It is always illuminating, after viewing a man’s monumental work, to glimpse the less important essays which have easier hour. The sun dial, for instance, in the garden of the Monticito home is a flat relief whose modelling is so tenderly achieved that it is scarcely raised above the surface. It is a sign full of promise and pleasure to those who are interested in watching the development of art in America to find that as our architecture tends toward a fuller growth and a finer flowering there should also be a more intelligent under¬ standing of what its sculpture implies. As soon as sculptors began to think of their figures as realistic representations of men and women and created them primarily to be admired for their own in¬ trinsic merit, the art declined. Mr. Lawrie believes in restoring them as a functional part in the general scheme. His role is significant. occupied an Jour hundred AUGUST 1922 mceRnACioriAL The ETCHINGS of KATHERINE CAMEHON A famous etcher s sister achieves unusuat qualities of grace and whimsicality on the copper plate ffy HELEN WRIGHT ~T 7~ ATHERINE CAMERON’S etchings are so individual in their treatment of an unusual subject that there is little N) danger of her being known simply as the “sister of D. Y. Cameron.” Her particular field is so much her own that her reputation has neither been dimmed by the lustre of her brother’s, nor increased by the mere fact of family relationship. A few years ago, some appreciative, discriminating art lover brought a few of her prints back from Scotland. A dealer who saw them wrote to Miss Cameron for a complete set of her etchings, and received the reply that she would have to buy many of them herself from various owners in Scotland and England, as three-fourths of them were out of print. She obtained as many as possible and ivhen they arrived they were all sold at once, before they could even be matted. It seems strange that flowers and butterflies and bees did not long ago tempt etchers away from the landscape and architectural subjects to which they have always been devoted. Miss Cameron, however, understands that pure line, which plays so great a part in etching, is well fitted to portray the ethereal quality of a butterfly’s wing or the fragile delicacy of a flower. Limited though she is through her medium, she imparts brilliancy and variety to her prints by the superb gradations of her blacks and the delicacy of her decisive and varied line. There is delightful humor in “The Race,” which interprets the leisurely progress of two caterpillars in terms of a human contest In such touches as this, which are fre¬ quent with Miss Cameron, there is revealed the vision of the artist-lover of nature who possesses both sympathy and imagination. As an etcher of landscapes. Miss Cameron is interested in Scotch dunes and level fields with far horizons, which she presents something in the manner of her brother. She is also well known for her illustrations for books, including “The Enchanted Land,” “Water Babies,” “Aucassin and Nicolette,” and “Undine.” The Library of Congress at Washington has recently purchased almost all of her etchings for its permanent collection. When placed on exhibition they attracted the admira¬ tion of print lovers at the capital. The variety of Miss Cameron’s interests, a trait inherent in all Scotch etchers, is reflected in these different subjects. If her choice of them is accounted feminine, the “grass of vigor of her line and of her blacks is masculine parnassus” enough to restore wholly the balance of her art. BY KATHERINE CAMERON THE RACE BY KATHERINE CAMERON j \ \ i AUGUST 9 2 2 four hundred one mceRnACionAL ;otm© “a french village” BY EDWARD w. redfield ^REDFIELD I ^Painter ofc. DAYS is first visit to the glorious valley of the Delaware was in ’84, when three boys went up the Delaware River, camp¬ ing at Bulls Island, now Raven Rock. Enthusiastic over the beauties and sport of the Delaware, enjoying the life so much, they overstayed their funds, so they bought a Hat bottomed boat that a former sheriff was selling for three dollars (chain two dollars) and rowed to Philadelphia, some sixty-four miles, the old boat filling with water twice. They reached Trenton the first night and pitched camp on the bank, but were awakened by mosquitoes in the night, and water lapping the tent poles. They had forgotten the tide. The boat had floated half across the river, so one of them swam out. Oh, the mosquitoes and blisters from that journey in a square ended boat! At the age of seven his first picture, that of a cow, -was shown in the school children’s exhibit at the Centennial Exhibition in Philadel¬ phia (1776). Speaking of cows and realism, Red- fielcl admits himself that at one time he was painting a picture of a cow on the island on his place, and was called home for a few minutes, leaving the canvas and paints until he returned, when he was surprised to find that the cow had risen from her pose and carefully licked off the painting of herself, leaving only the bare canvas. That’s realism and real appreciation of realism. Redfield went abroad in ’87 and ’92, with Each one has a mystery and charm of its own ready for his sensitive brush • • • . by □ F. NEWLIN PRICE □ Jour hundred two august 1922 DRIFTED ROAD k> ScLvard W l^ecl field inceRnAuonAL Robert Henri, Charles Grafly and Stirling Calder — a group of artists who have since made their mark. He worked at BroIIes, near the forest of Fontainebleau. It was here he met the present Mrs Redfield, whom he married in London about 1893. She is a wonderful woman and a perfect partner for the enthusiastic temperamental artist. These were delightful times, youth traveling hopefully. At one time a canvas by Redfield got in the Salon and was sold. Most of the profits had to be spent for the con¬ solation of his fellow students. The budding artist became a sort of “flower boy” for his father in Philadelphia, selling roses and azaleas and delivering them. It was the sire’s conviction that Redfield could not make a living at art, so he engaged him in his nurseries. Bradley Redfield at one time was a prosperous fruit broker, but he lost his money about 1896, when an extraor¬ dinary frost killed the orange crops in Florida on which he had advanced funds. Redfield was studying at the Spring Garden Institute, bent on being a portrait painter. Crayon presentments were then in vogue, and he did whatever came his way. Flis family had started nurseries at Glenside, Pennsylvania, where Redfield worked and painted. Later he studied at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts. Trask tells a story of seeing a fine looking fellow give a beautiful bouquet of white carnations to Airs. Gibson (who took the tickets at the Academy shows), saying “Couldn’t sell these, Mrs. Gibson.” Many things crowded the year ’98 — the pur¬ chase of his present home and the island (in the Delaware opposite his studio), his first one-man show at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, where he realized a small sum, and the tragedy of his first child’s death. Abroad again, where he stayed until the summer of 1900, when Laurent was born. Then, in the autumn, back to Center- bridge, and a second one-man show at the Phila¬ delphia Art Club, which was decidedly successful. It was then that Redfield became convinced that his paintings should be done at “one go,” and he figured that if he did them spontaneously he would succeed. He allowed himself ten years, if he could stick it out, to win. FIc sold just enough to keep going, with the help of his garden, until his first real success, at the Corcoran’s biennial, where he won the third prize, five hundred dollars, a sum which was augmented by another fifteen THE ROAD TO CARVERSVILLE BY EDWARD W. REDFIELD Jour bu n d r e d Jive AUGUST 1922 inceRnAcionAL SOTMO hundred dollars when the Gallery bought the picture. Then honors came thick and fast until, in 1915, he was ac¬ cepted by the American art world as a very able artist who had “arrived.” The Redfields lived a busy, domestic, ele¬ mental life, raising their own vegetables, enjoying the wide horizon and the changing seasons. When Frances was little, the one cow they had went dry. Redfield walked eight miles up the river to see a cow for sale, for which the farmer wanted forty dollars (this was only a few years back), and Redfield said, “It’s not worth forty dollars.” “What is it worth?” “It’s worth thirty-five dollars,” said Redfield, and the farmer sold the cow. When he got it home a farmer across the canal, Ed Johnson, came over and looking at the cow said, “Are you going to keep two cows?” Redfield explained that they had to have cow’s milk from the same cow for the little girl, and made the proposition to Johnson that he would sell the cow it he got four quarts ol milk every day for the baby. Johnson said “All right, I’ll give you forty dollars for the cow and deliver four quarts of milk every day.” Then Redfield walked up the river and saw the other farmer, and said, “I told you that cow wasn’t worth forty dollars.” “You said the cow was worth thirty-five dollars and gave me the money — what’s the matter now?” “Well, that cow was worth forty dollars, and here’s the five dollars.” Redfield has no love for the heart of the town, the pageantry of the city streets, the receptions and teas and social whirl. He came to New York on a trip a year or so ago. He drove over, and after he had successfully reached the forties, he crossed toward Fifth Avenue, and there pulled up behind a taxi and waited. After a bit he leaned out to see if the driver ahead were asleep, and waited a little longer there. Meanwhile several cars pulled up back of him. Finally one called out, “Hey there, Pennsylvania, get a move on.” Redfield replied, “Talk to that fellow in front.” Whereupon he was vigorously informed that the man in front would not move for some time. Couldn’t he see that this was a “taxi stand?” Redfield does not like any big city too well. He goes there only when he has work to do. He is in truth, just what he seems to be, direct, SOHO - PITTSBURGH BY EDWARD W. REDFIELD Jour hundred six AUGUST 1922 mceRnAcionAL SOTM© keen, a fine companion, and thor¬ ough workman, a man of the hills and the mountain streams. Below the wooded hills, between the canal and the Delaware, is a long row of frame buildings built with his own hands, a little village of his own that hides away from the main road. And from this retreat, whenthe earth is white with snow, and sparkles with the diamond dust of winter, he goes forth to record its glory — the vaulted sky and the gorgeous soft whiteness of it all. Then spring will come, and Redfield’s snow will turn the streams to raging, tumbling torrents, that tear down upon his home. Many times they flood into his house, and once the waters floated the dining room table eight feet over the floor. The Redfield family waited and watched to see if their home would go on a journey to the sea. Looking down from the upper gallery they saw a mouse on a cracker can, hungry and worried, floating about with the table. It is typical of Red- field that he went out after the mouse and said, RIVER IN WINTER EDWARD W. REDFIELD “You belong to my lodge,” and gave him a chance. With nature he lives, very much a part of her moods and transitions. When the floods have passed and the sun warms the earth, he is very busy with his garden, and the blossoms that he loves to paint — peach and pear and apple, and the snow white cherry trees against the hills with the river beyond. There is nothing manufactured about his art, no over refining. And now, after continuous effort in the same direction, toward painting at “one go,” he is able to handle more and more detail, giving a luller impression ot nature. He found that the first step was the relation of the ground to the sky, which often practically resulted in two flat masses. He was working for a complete impression in one sitting, and it has really taken twenty years to do it. He wants to portray nature, and as one day is so very different from another in atmosphere and light, it has been his effort to record that actual day, rather than some impression that might august 1922 Jour hundred seven mceRriAcionAL stum® evolve in the studio. So you will find some of his paintings named after a day, “March First,’’ “March Second,” or “The Day Before Christmas.” They are in reality portraits of days. There is a strange hostility about Redfield. He will fight the winter’s hardest weather, and struggle through the deepest drifts to paint. When the fever is on, it’s mighty hard for anyone near him. He will say to his friends, “Sure, come up to the place, but you know the snow is on the ground and I am painting.” Wise folks do not visit Redfield then, nor do they go when spring is surging over the land, and the fruit trees have burst out in all their glory. 1 hey have called him the painter of “winter locked nature,” and as surely as the laurel piles green over the snowbanks of the Delaware Valley, he has painted winter locked in ice and snow. Some have said he should paint other things as well, but the country under its white blanket sparkling in the sunshine, with all its well defined planes clear as only the snow will show it, has an endless fascination for Redfield. Imagine him standing at the end of the day by the fireside, warming his almost frozen hands, and his face iced over, with these words spoken: “And they THE FROZEN RIVER BY EDWARD W. REDFIELD say Blank paints them by the fireside.” Redfield does not believe in the manufactured picture. There is no greater guide than nature. Those who paint the academic, the accepted design, whose art is no more than a formula, are not of his God. They moved to Pittsburgh one winter (1919), with the five children. They had no furniture or fixings, but they got a house and then dug up the needed things, sent the boys to Carnegie and Redfield got to his painting of Pittsburgh, the famous. There was a furniture man who de¬ livered things, and looking on the walls saw paintings, and exclaimed: “Madame, your hus¬ band is an artist.” “Yes.” “I thought so — you could hardly afford such pictures.” Today, of course, there is no dearth of money. But time was when the garden had to support them. Next to being an artist, Redfield is a great gardener. His tomatoes ripen first, his corn precedes that of the farmers, and his llowers fill the yard with a riot of color that lasts all summer and deep into autumn. I recall a story of how he painted one of those village “Main Streets” that he likes so well. A little country girl from school stood watching him paint and after some time she asked what he did four hundred eight AUGUST Q22 irareRnACionAL rr SUNLIQHT AND SHADOW ” h Edward W. Redfield AUGUST 1922 / o u r h undred n i n e mceRriACionAL with them. Redfield looked up and, liking the little red cheeked girl, said, “I sell them.” ‘‘How much do you get?” was her query, and wishing to be plausible he said, “Five hundred dollars.” She looked a second and then said, “You’re a liar,” and marched up the road. So the villagers watch this strange artist species much as the country folk looked at George Ade, whose country home grew finer and finer, although they saw no toiling or spinning. Time must come when America will reach that stage when it will know the glorious vocation, “interpreter of beauty.” Energy, and devotion to American art — a wise devotion — these are characteristic of the man. No strife of schools for him. He stands unyielding before the political storms of art and bends his back to help each movement, unmoved by selfish aims. Many young artists have known his encour¬ agement. And the great national museum planned for Washington, but yet unborn, is one of his high hopes, very dear to his heart. Redfield is vital, his method hard won, but simple. There journeyed to his studio a well-known portrait painter, whose wife was anxious that he make his mark, win prizes and recognition. Knowing that Redfield had received so many awards that there were none left for him to win, she asked how it was done, and he answered, “Paint the pictures.” It may seem a long road— in fact it is a long road — for much water must pass under the bridge, and many a year must go by, great miles of canvas must be covered and bitter hunger and deprivations suffered before the real thing appears. “No royal road” to results. If it could be won by eloquence of words, or power of song, then it need not be painted. A feeling a mile deep, an ecstacy strong with an unquenchable desire, — that is the thing. Strong hearts are needed to portray this mysterious phantas¬ magoria, the dawn that glows in the east, and lingeringly fades into the west — a Day. “spring” BY EDWARD W. REDFIELD four hundred ten AUGUST 1922 mceRnACionAL )OTM© “l’ofFRANDe” BY MALVINA HOFFMAN ( Copyright , Malvina Hoffman ) Wit OFFERING by Cfertrude t 'Nason Carver “1 ] ve offered me the apple: I did eat!” || Were not her lips the stern-forbidden fruit That flowered on her slender body’s tree? And could a bough resist the sun? Her lips apart, Her young breasts lifted like a twin-formed heart That beats toward its desire, swift-lidded eyes To hide the shyness of a girl, to rise From the full glory of a woman’s gaze — Such offering Eve’s new-born beauty was: Damp clay, so molded by the hands of God, And lips whose fragrance is His breath on sod. Ah, not to touch them, Adam, would blaspheme Eden itself and its most living dream! Bend gently, Earth’s First Lover that did dare Forbidden fruit. To her sweet mouth now bear The wondrous taste of sin she doth demand. Remember with what ecstasy she leaned The fullness of her beauty to thy lips, And know it is a chalice thy love sips Into profanity. And yet I think Thou wouldst have sinned more deeply — not to drink! august 1922 jour eleven inceRtiAcionAL SOTM© A SILVER COFFEE SERVICE DESIGNED BY PORTER BLANCHARD "American ART in SILVERCRAFT very age stands revealed in the records of its applied arts. The humble articles of every-dav use, the little accessories for personal adornment, tell their story as vividly and truly as do the more important essays in architecture and literature. A discriminating understanding of design will disclose a nation’s dream of beauty; it will divulge its follies and foibles, its very virtues and vices, for, from the beginning, man has put himself into his art, pro¬ claiming the tastes and tendencies of his day and generation, and disclosing all that has touched and affected him most deeply. And the influence and inheritance of all these past civilizations is having its effect upon art today. One of the oldest and most enduring of the applied arts is silvercraft, and he who possesses the vision of true wisdom is able to read the secrets of ancient days, not in the mystic rays of a crystal goblet, but in the depths of a silver cup. We are on our mettle, then, to make the Twentieth Century speak more eloquently through its art than did the Nineteenth, for after the creative period of Colonial days, artistic development in America was practically at a standstill until the Centennial Exposition. In that interval, the machine swung into power and every¬ thing that could lend itself to mechanical production was fashioned in that way. Silver was more plentiful and its price lower, and it became an easy matter to stamp out hundreds of florid patterns for borders and intricate ornament with¬ out any pretense of preserving purity of style, or the durability that is the result of good crafts¬ manship. The main object of the commercial exploiters of that time was to produce silverware that looked rich and ostentatious at the lowest cost and the highest possible speed. Facile mechanics usurped the place of craftsmen, for there was no longer any demand for objects that were designed by artists and shaped by hand. A natural reaction against this state of things, and the monstrosities that masqueraded under the name of art, came when prosperity, travel and education gradually developed a more exacting and discriminating taste, and finally, in 1897, a Society of Arts and Crafts was founded in Boston, whose object was to revive and stimulate an interest in handicrafts. This was somewhat similar to the movement started in England some ten years earlier, though on a much smaller scale Ex am pies of recent design reveal native craftsmanship in an ancient art * * by m HANNA TACMU (1 Jour twelve august 1922 inceRnAcionAL stun© and without the socialistic tenden¬ cies of the English group that revolted against factory methods in general. This Society of Arts and Crafts gave the craftsman the op¬ portunity for ex¬ hibiting Ins work and creating a newer and wider A HOLY WATER FONT IN WROUGHT SILVER DESIGNED AND MADE BY GRACE HAZEN public interest in everyday objects fashioned by hand. A few master silver¬ smiths living in Boston stili clung to Colonial tra¬ ditions in the face of all obstacles. In the last twenty years they have produced silverware closely following Colonial types in form and feeling, that dis¬ play the eternal beauty of the earlier designs, yet possess a certain individu¬ ality that naturally comes from a different age and the needs arising from different living conditions. Not only is much of their work executed as skillfully and with as great a reverence for beauty of line and simplicity ol ornament as is displayed in some of the older examples, but certain pieces of utility, such as forks and spoons, are made heavier and stronger, for experience has taught the expediency of add¬ ing extra weight to points that in their everyday use bear the greatest strain and wear. But the craft of the silversmith has narrowed down to a chosen few. The guild that so jealously guarded the interests of craftsmen in ancient days, and kept their work up to a given standard, is an institution that never flourished here. Apprentice¬ ship, in its truest sense, finds but a cold response in the hearts of the youths who demand short prep¬ aration for quick success. We can only speak, then, of the few individual silversmiths who deem their lives well spent in “making beautiful or interesting that which is made for utilitarian pur¬ poses.” And yet these devoted few have created a place for themselves in the art world. They have overcome incredible obstacles; they have com¬ batted their malevolent enemy, the machine; they have found ways of escaping from the deadening influences that compel production of an endless number of objects, one the exact duplicate of the other, that menaced all individual expression. They have succeeded in finding a clientele, which, year by year, is ever grow¬ ing more appreciative and more numerous. But can a master silver¬ smith, single-handed, under present factory conditions, make a living? Perhaps not, but it has been proven that small groups of crafts¬ men, working harmoniously together, practicing econ¬ omy of both time and material, are not only able to produce work that reveals a fine aesthetic A SILVER CHALICE DESIGNED AND EXECUTED BY HELEN KEELING MILLS sense, but can make this kind of endeavor pay. Through their cour¬ ageous adherence to art ideals that the love of their craft compels, they have become a significant factor in bringing to the public consciousness the fact that art need not be the ex¬ clusive pro¬ perty of the A SILVER CIBORIUM DESIGNED AND EXECUTED BY ARTHUR E. STONE AUGUST 1922 Jour thirteen mceRHACionAL few who have riches as well as culture, but at the same time is the rightful heritage of the humble. This new appreciation of beauty has also had a marked influence upon the character of the silverware now being made in the most progressive factories, for the demand for simple, robust shapes that show greater restraint in the use of decoration is steadily increasing. We are beginning to covet plain surfaces that reveal the inherent beauty of the material; to value the skill that can produce with the hammer smooth surfaces that are far more ingratiating than any gained by the mechanical polish of emery and burnisher, and to realize that profuse decoration is frequently used as a shield to conceal poor workmanship. It is, however, a fallacy to believe, as many do, that if "a piece of silverware is created entirely by hand it must neces¬ sarily be a beautiful and significant object. Unfortunately the term “Arts and Crafts” has come to be spoken only too glibly and is often applied to flabby work that attracts attention by flaunting certain aesthetic effects and affectations. To be ranked as a real art product, an object must serve a definite purpose, it must possess the beauty of happy design and a technical rendering that can freely express the intent of the artist. Such a piece will then be the means not only of giving pleasure but of serving a fine utility as well. Some of the most prominent concerns pro¬ ducing silverware were quick to recognize the over-development of mechanically made silver and are introducing pieces made either partly or entirely by hand. The patterns are mostly of the A SILVER CHAFING DISH DESIGNED AND EXECUTED BY ARTHUR E. STONE Colonial type or are reproductions of old designs, and many of them are delightfully and beautifully exe¬ cuted and are a credit to the firms that pro¬ duce them. These firms, realizing the knowledge and training that is necessary for A HAND-WROUGHT SILVER BOWL BY CHARI. ES J. MARTIN connoisseurs the practice of this very subtle craft, have art directors who are and splendid critics, and they also have the services of designers and craftsmen who know their subject well. Although we feel that the simple dignity of Colonial silver, that reveals so fine a reverence for form and for decoration (that includes only simple threading, beading and chasing) is particularly suited to our democratic way of living, there is a well-known American concern which has shown us something quite different both in design and _ decoration. The “Martele” silver is the product of a newer school. Its decoration is naturalistic, bearing no relationship whatever to classic tradition, and the artist has gone direct to nature for inspiration, where he has sought to catch the evanescent delicacy of flowers, the illusive quality of growing things and render them in permanent form SILVER HOLLOW-WARE OF GRACEFUL GEORGIAN DESIGN BY ARTHUR E. STONE four fourteen AUGUST 1922 in unconventional de¬ signs. Each piece is of necessity quite individ¬ ual and distinctive be¬ cause it is fashioned entirely by hand, and, consequently, no exact duplicate can be made. Herewith reproduced is an illustration of this type of silver, produced by a manu¬ facturer, and also examples of the work of individual crafts¬ men. The resentment crafts¬ men feel toward a certain type of factory that produces silverware in very large quan¬ tities is due both to the effect it has upon their own artistic development and to the char¬ acter of the work itself. For rapid production, one piece is made to go through the hands of many different craftsmen, each man performing the one special task in which he has become most efficient. This method naturally limits the individual’s power of expres¬ sion and compels him to spe¬ cialize in one line of endeavor. The silversmith deals with a malleable material that gives him the opportunity for creat¬ ing form that may be brought to life through his skill and imagination. If his hammer becomes devoid of animation and he is not able to make his work reveal something of his personality and to disclose to others what he himself thinks and feels, the object naturally cannot fail to lack the peculiar essential spirit of an art product. An appreciation and understand¬ ing of art cannot be accomplished in a year and a day. It lies in the education of the artist as well as ol the public. In interesting ourselves in all those things that lead to a renewal of the aesthetic impulses by which a nation expresses itself, we have redis¬ covered the significance that lies in the splendor of domestic silverware. Until fifteen or twenty years ago we were forced to collect old plate if we would possess some really beautiful pieces. Now we have craftsmen liv¬ ing here in America whose work rivals the beautiful examples we have inherited from the past. They show the delightful texture, the unerring feeling for fine proportion, and the ad¬ mirable mastery in handling material of the lovely old Colonial and Georgian types. But there are other avenues besides domestic plate that give scope to the art of the silversmith. Vessels and reli¬ quaries for the church, loving cups to commemorate special events, and vases and bowls that are created as things of pure beauty, offer splendid op¬ portunities for displaying an artist’s genius and skill. We have a number of craftsmen who have produced brilliant results in these fields. A nota¬ ble instance is Mr. Stone’s ci- borium, one of the most beau¬ tiful examples of modern crafts¬ manship, made for the Church of the Advent in Boston. More and more as time goes on we will find that silver wrought by hand will fill a distinct place even in this commercial age, and as appre¬ ciation grows such work will be recognized and ranked as fine art. Such pieces, however, can by necessity be enjoyed only by the comparative few. The machine, as an institution, has come to stay, and if prop¬ erly directed can be made to fill the role of “the great distributor.” The kind of work it distributes will depend upon the kind of work we demand. So long as the American public puts all its faith in European products, so long will there be a lack of distinctiveness in our own designs. The fact that many of the articles made abroad are more satisfying and are of better work¬ manship, is the very reason that art must be stimu¬ lated here at home, so that our workmanship will not only equal but overtop that of other countries. mceRriAoonAL A FLAGON EXECUTED IN MARTELE SILVER, FROM THE DESIGN BY W. L. CODMAN (Courtesy oj Gorham Company) AUGUST 1922 Jour fifteen mceRnACionAL FigURES Niing IN WHITE PORCELAIN and Kang-Hi Dynasties ( Collection of M. Larcade) Jour sixteen AUGUST 922 mreRHACionAL MOUNTED DRAGONS IN COLORED TERRA-COTTA : HAN DYNASTY ( Collection of Mr. Loo ) ANIMAL SCULPTURE in CHINA he important archaeological discoveries made in China within the last thirty years have brought the true dates of the origins of Chinese art, which obliging legends had ascribed to fabu¬ lous antiquity, nearer to hand, while simultaneously the in¬ terest of the collector has grad¬ ually stepped backwards from those medium periods to which the limitations of the market had restricted his interests hitherto. It may, moreover, be taken for granted that with the results obtained from excavations the taste for archaic art has been coincidently stimulated both among collectors and artists. And it is, no doubt, a fact that art, like philosophy, clothing and other things, is subject to fashion; however, to attribute these fashions to superficial causes would be to give proof of at least superficial judgment, for they answer to needs more deep-rooted than might be imagined. In this case, at all events, the prevailing fashion is matter for congratulation as it shows a determination to make return to solid foundations, and is exercising a strong influence on modern art, an influence far more healthy than would be one from mixed or decadent styles. Although, taking them all round, the French collections of Chinese art are not as well equipped as those in the United States, they are far from being insignificant. The donations which have accrued to them, as also happily in¬ spired purchases, have much benefited them. The three most important collections are: the one in the Louvre, where the Granddidier gallery shows superb ceramics and the Pelliot mission has contributed its share; that at the Musee Guimet, specially designed to illustrate the history of Eastern religions, and that at the Musee Cernuschi, de¬ voted to Chinese and Japanese art. Being desirous of emphasizing the preponder¬ ant position occupied by animal representation in Chinese art M. d’Ardenne de Tizac, the eminent curator of the last named museum, has had the interesting idea of organizing an exhibition specially devoted to that subject, and for which purpose he has not only drawn upon his own gallery, but also upon specimens owned by private collectors and dealers, who have responded gener¬ ously to his invitation. According to the old Chinese texts — and all archaeologists appear to be in agreement on the Fine specimens of anti¬ quity have style and power equal to the best of Greek and Gothic * * by H. 8. CIOLKOWSKI Ancient Chinese war-chariot from sculpture of the Han dynasty AUGUST 922 four seventeen mceRnAcionAL SOTMO point — the oldest sculptures men¬ tioned in the King-che-so annals date back to the second century B. C. The representation ol the human figure, as also of animals, appears to begin at the period commencing with the Man dynasty, starting 206 B. C. and lasting four hundred years. However, in all statements concerning Chinese art and its origins one cannot be too careful. There seems to be little doubt, however, that China’s artistic development was already very high in earlier periods. The treatment ot bronze in particular would seem to be as old as China itself, for we know of bells and objects of ritual dating from the Chou and even the Shang dynasties, i. e. seventeen centuries B. C., which give evidence of a high degree of perfection, and there can be no doubt that other art forms, architecture, for example, had reached analogous development, but as building was accomplished in brick and stone nothing of it survives nowadays. FIGURE OF A DRAGON IN BRONZE HAN DYNASTY ( Collection of M. Peytel ) SCULPTURED HOG IN STONE HAN DYNASTY ( Courtesy of M. Levy ) The ritual vase representing an owl, here repro- Iuced, is a very rare example of bronze art in bhou style, (1 122-255 B. C.) and is of surprising ipplication and expression. The first Chinese larvings of which we have specimens were bas- -eliefs on slabs in hard stone forming the inner vails of the sepulchres of personages of high standing. They are keenly sought after and the bernuschi Museum owns some of great interest, rhey represent alternately mythological scenes, historical events and FIGURE OF A RABBIT . , , porcelain : sung dynasty ceremonials, hunting (Collection of Mme. Laneweil) SCeneS Or SCeneS of Jour eighteen august 922 inceRnACionAL battle, and comprise all kinds of animals, but particularly horses, which play so important a part in the life of warriors and in feudal times, executed with wonderful elegance and vigor. But these bas-reliefs are not exclusively repre¬ sentative of Han sculpture, for the round was also practiced. The beautiful ram lent by Mr. Loo shows sufficiently what magnificent artists the Chinese were at this period. Its style and power are extraordinary and may be put on a line with the finest Greek and medieval achievements, com¬ bining convention and realism, those two qualities which constitute the touchstone of all permanent art. To many it will prove a revelation for it has long been a familiar dogma in many circles that while the Chinese were masters whom none have surpassed in ceramics, they were wanting in genius for sculpture. Writing on the subject in an important French standard work, an authority assigned these eight words to it: “La sculpture vraiment chinoise, c’est le magot” and no more. Yet the beautiful sculptures repre¬ senting elephants, camels, horses and warriors which have been mounting guard over the tombs of the Ming Emperors these last five hundred years, never were buried and are at least familiar through reproductions, not to speak of the innumerable Buddhas, Kwan-yins and Bocldhi- satvas, belonging to all periods, and which are so noble, so lofty and so plastic, and whose eloquent expressiveness could not have been realized with¬ out deep knowledge ot the science ot sculpture and without technical experience handed down traditionally. But, no doubt, admiration and FIGURE OF A HORSE IN ENAMELLED TERRA-COTTA : TANG DYNASTY ( Collection oj Comte d' Andigne) AUGUST 1922 four nineteen mceRHAtionAL mot© SCULPTURED RAM HAN DYNASTY ( Collection of Mr. Loo) sympathy for Chinese art distorts our judgment to a point which renders it incapa¬ ble of discerning that it is “influenced by bastard forms of Greek art gradually spread from the shores of the Black Sea towards Siberia and Central Asia,” as M. Salomon Reinach contends in one of his volumes after a fashion one may be excused for considering somewhat rash, despite all one’s admiration and very legitimate parochialism in regard of the Greek genius. Much more thoughtful by comparison is the opinion of S. W. Bushell who finds, in his work on “Chinese Art,” that “the origin of sculpture in stone is very obscure. In Chinese books its indi¬ genous origin and development are always taken for granted and it seems natural to accept such views until the contrary is proved.” Indeed one cannot sufficiently repeat that the most extreme caution is advisable whenever Chinese art of high antiquity is considered. Take, for example, the superb ram already alluded to, which Mr. Loo, its owner, who is an expert in the matter, has good reasons for assigning to the second century A. D. Yet the photographs brought by M. Cha- vanne from his explorations in North China show rams entirely similar as to style and workman¬ ship, one of which mounts guard over a Chuan tomb erected towards 700, while another from the Ho-nan guards the tomb of Emperor Jen T’song who died in 1063. R would be unwise to draw the slightest conclusion from these associations other than that tor a long time the Chinese pur¬ sued a formula answering to their aspirations. Time has not the same value all round the globe and in China the centuries count for little. The constant craving after novelty tyrannizing the nervous West is unknown to the Chinese, and when they have found “something good” they are in no hurry for “something differ¬ ent.” The static character of their nature, to which they owe both their strength and their weakness, has permitted their art to develop continuously and at times to attain to heights of unique perfection. Among other sculptures a very rare and beautiful piece, the little ramping dragon in bronze, here reproduced, deserves special men¬ tion. It is full of movement and yet very pure in style. It was said recently in the Journal de Pekin that in certain caverns in the Itchang district the bones of prehistoric serpents, twenty-five and thirty meters long, showing claws, and extremely similar to the Imperial dragon, had been found under beds of an- Aecorchng to this, ways seemed to the fruit of Orien¬ tal fancy was in reality a more or less convention¬ alized rendering of a living animal. The two colored terra - cotta c i e n t mud. what had al- have been but CHIMERA IN BRONZE t’ang DYNASTY (Collection oj M. Homberg ) jour twenty august 1922 mteRriAcionAL mounted dragons are also very rare specimens of the same period. It is thought they were used to decorate the exteriors of houses. At that period animal representation had always a ritual significance, no objet chart or bibelot having for purpose the mere recreation of the eyes, and these dragons, like those in China placed on the crests of houses, were intended to exorcize and to preserve against the evil spirits so numerous in the Taoist belief. It may be supposed they were fixed into the wall at each side of the entrance-door at which they so nobly mounted their guard. The art of enamelled terra-cotta probably reached its highest degree of perfection during the T’ang period (620-905 A. D.). At this time horses were, as is well known, rendered with unparalleled feeling and skill. The little chimera here reproduced is a very rare and precious specimen of bronze art under the T’angs. Among the numerous and beautiful porcelain animals shown at the Musee Cernuschi, a small rabbit, here illus¬ trated, was most striking. It is a A TIGER, FROM A PAINTING ON PAPER YUAN DYNASTY ( Collection oj M. Blondeau ) A RITUAL VASE OF BRONZE IN FORM OF AN OWL CHOU DYNASTY ( Collection oj M. Peytel) charming example of Sung art belong¬ ing approximately to 1000 A. D. The tiger is a fine painting on paper dating to the Yuan dynasty (1279-1333 A.D.), immediately preceding the first Mings. The specimens of this period are too well known to be dwelt upon. At this time China was ap¬ proaching the apotheosis of her prosperity and her art reflected her new situation, having become extraordinarily recherche but having lost in force what it gained in delicacy. Henceforward more attention is given by art¬ ists to material beauty and the value of the work resides more in its decorative than in its plastic AUGUST 922 four twenty-one inceRnACionAL qualities. This is the time porce¬ lain reached its supremest ex¬ pressions. We all know the delight afforded by a beautiful specimen, and in this respect the most striking contribution to the exhibition is, perhaps, the big cabinet displaying three hundred pieces of blue turquoise and another w ith white Ming and Kang-IIi porcelain, lent by M. Larcade and which are as much an enchant¬ ment to the eye as might be a bed of flowers. This exhibition has come most propitiously at a time when western artists considered them¬ selves faced by so many unanswered problems, when each is fumbling for a path. These sculp¬ tures have to do with another time and another country when artists asked no vain question, since all had their answer. To our doubting mind China opposes its convictions. Who knows but from her example we will some day derive a profitable lesson and it may be that Monsieur P. L. Couchoud, the well-known essayist and Orientalist, was a prophet of the truth when he said: “The future will see an admirable thing, namely the fusion of our ideals with those of the East. What it has to offer is a hundred-fold more significant than the Greek and Latin legacy. What it has to bring is of unsuspected wealth and boundless variety. It may fecundate our art and entirely renovate us. Then — the real Renaissance.” MOUNTED ELEPHANT IN ENAMELLED EARTHENWARE : TANG DYNASTY ( Collection of M. Wannieck) Jour twenty-two august i g 2 2 mceRnACionAL A 'Del Sarto for tke TAetuop olitan "THE HOLY FAMILY’’ h . "Andrea del Sarto (14-87-1531) ( Courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum oj Art ) A description of the “Borgberini Madonna,” which has just been acquired by the Metropolitan Museum of Art, is given by Vasari (ryi 1-1574): “Andrea made another picture almost exactly like the Charity aforementioned, for Giovanni Borgberini, in which are found Our Lady, the infant Saint John who presents to the Christ child a globe typifying the world, and a very beautiful bead of St. Joseph.” As ibis picture has just been cleaned, it gives a better idea of the original color than the del Sartos in the French and English galleries, whose brilliance has been subdued by the dust of centuries and many coats of varnish. The color which the Florentines loved and in which Andrea excelled is seen in the glowing reds and blues of the drapery back of the Christ child. The dress of the Virgin is an almost indescribable hue, approaching a rosy amethyst. The painting was for many years in the Fairfax Murray Collection in London a AUGUST 9 2 2 four twenty-three mceRnACionAL SOTM® ev’Lv’es THE ROPE MAKER THE POTTER THE BAKER MODEL OF THE ARCHITECT rHESE photographic reproductions of bas-relief figures which decorate the exterior of a new savings bank in the city oj Eskilstuna, Sweden, afford excellent specimens of modern Swedish decorative art. The figures, sculptured in stone by Aron Johanson, are characterized by the strong line and fine simplicity which has always appealed to the Swedish people because it best expresses their national traits. The human types are distinctly Swedish, and both figures and background are wrought with an economy oj line and exclusion of detail that approaches austerity, thus harking back to the classical period in Nordic literature and art which leaves out no essentials and sternly rejects ornamentation and useless elaboration. This characteristic applies to the best in Swedish literature and music as well as art. There is at present a wave of strong nationalistic feeling sweeping Sweden, as well as all of Scandinavia, and this movement is best reflected in the literary and artistic production of these peoples. The Viking appears to he coming into his own once more. It is in the old Viking period that the forthright nature of the Scandinavians is seen at its best, — restless, splendidly generous, cruel at times, but always independent and always determined to face the facts. The city of Eskilstuna has been famous in Swedish industrial history since the seventeenth century, as the producing center of finely tempered steel. MODEL OF THE BLACKSMITH THE APOTHECARY THE TINSMITH THE NIGHT WATCHMAN four twenty-four august 1922 mreRnACionAL “ZLANBART,” A SETTING BY P. ARAVANTINOS IN THE MODERN ROMANTIC STYLE GERMANY’S New SCENECRAFT y theme will be the stage, not in its quality as dramatic repre¬ sentation but from its viewpoint as the product of plastic art. Our stage has undergone a most remarkable development, both spacially and spectacularly, within the last few years. And our leading architects and painters have devoted themselves to their new tasks with much applica¬ tion and success. An interesting and new school has proved its vitality in connection with the thorough changes that art as such has undergone in its entirety. This statement does not mean, however, that the old and time-honored stage setting has completely vanished, for it is still to be met with wherever its realism is necessary. The new direction has held its own so successfully, nevertheless, that it is even applied to older pieces in the opera as well as in the drama, and even classical plays may be seen in this new setting nowadays, which sometimes strikes one as somewhat strange under the conditions. It is, however, the trend of the times to force this style onto the stage and new surprises are offered us annually, whilst new ground is being gained continuously by the innovators in sceneeraft. A few introductory re¬ marks are necessary for its characterization. For very many years the stage was re¬ garded as a representation of real life, opened out to the spectators’ view, who gazed on the realistic happenings and decorations as through a spyglass. The stage manager kept as closely to real life as he possibly could and the scene painter always vied with him to attain this end. But then the architect began to have his say and declared that the stage was not merelv a peep-show for curious onlookers, but a part of the entire edifice that should be brought into closer connection with the audi¬ torium from a spacial point of view. The stage was to offer less illusion from now on and instead be the pivot of all the presented events around which the feelings of the spectators circled in powerful concentraion. Or in other words: the play enacted was the expression of the sentiments of the audience by the mouths of the actors. They appeal to the public as a human being does to a human being, as an orator to a meeting, or, rather, as a speaker of ancient Greece to his community of believers. Modern literature, turning from psychology toward declamatory stylistics, favored this conception. Illusions vanished, the dividing Plastic art of moderns creates settings that dis¬ place illusion with im¬ agination • • • by /YoAssorOSCARBIE (Of the Polytechnic School, Berlin ) Jour twenty-jive AUGUST 1922 mceRHACionA! A STAGE SETTING BY EMIL PIRCHAN FOR THE STAATS OPER BERLIN A STAGE SETTING BY EMIL PIRCHAN FOR THE STAATS THEATER BERLIN A STAGE SETTING BY EMIL PIRCHAN FOR THE STAATS OPER BERLIN four twenty-six AUGUST 1922 . ■ mceRnACionAL footlights were often ignored and the older stage structures enlarged by additions that jutted far beyond the curtain into the audience. Steps and narrow bridges led from the stage into the auditorium in various instances, as in Japan, so that the actors walked off the stage and onto it again in full public view, to the amazement of the onlookers. Or a plain platform would be deemed sufficient, with decora¬ tions that were only lightly hinted at, re¬ sembling a lecturer’s platform more than a home of histrionic art. Finally, the at¬ tempt was made to erect a modern theatre on a large scale accord¬ ing to these precepts. This resulted in Rein¬ hardt’s “Grosses Schauspielhaus,” con¬ verted out of an old circus during the war by one of our cleverest of theatre architects, Polzig. The seats are built amphitheatre- wise around the huge stage expanse, which consistsofafront stage, rear stageandan arena, and is adjustable in all its parts, thus serving as the scene of the rep¬ resentation either in its several parts or in its entirety, as occa¬ sion demands. The ideal of a modern stage was attained here in securing the spacial and thus psychic participa¬ tion of the public, in¬ stead of merely creat¬ ing an illusion. But Reinhardt’s craving for an ideal and wide space for production was sated even better in the open than in an enclosed theatre. I refer to the unforgettable days when he pre¬ sented us with Mofmannsthal’s mystery play “Everyman” on the Salzburg Cathedral square in the glow of the setting sun, and with inimitable decorations afforded by the Cathedral pile itself. None of us remembered that it was but a revela¬ tion of histrionics — we were in the sway of a grand and imposing religious service. This is the true meaning of things, and it is synonymous with a complete change in theatrical outlook and creation. As a consequence, the stage setting even in the older theatres underwent so thorough a change that hardly any play may be regarded today as producing a purely illusionary effect. The modern stage technic has a weighty word to say in the mat¬ ter. The reversible stage induces the pro¬ duction of small ex¬ tracts on a large scale. The terrace-like struc¬ ture of the stage leads to foregrounds and backgrounds that can be differently used for different purposes. For instance, in Wedekind’s “Marquis of Keith” the symbolical scenes are played in the rear and above, the realistic ones in front and be¬ low. This happens in the Berlin State Thea¬ tre, where Director J essner , one of the lead- ing revolutionaries, has had great success in always setting all plays, old and mod¬ ern, in terraced spaces; he has further made a name for him¬ self by the steps that are invariably to be seen and on which whole scenes of “Rich¬ ard IIF’ are enacted. To signalize interiors or rural scenes a sym¬ bolical property only is necessary, such as a pillar, wall, tree, gate, meadow, and the spectator’s im¬ agination will itself replace, and more powerfully so, the illusions ol former days. Or nothing is needed at all, any longer. Color drapings divide the space and create the backgrounds, whilst the rhythm of the human figure stands forth in pure and undisturbed plasticism. Nonessentials are done away with. Our painters are confronted by great tasks and they undertake them according to their vari¬ ous conceptions. Corinth designed the decorations AUGUST Q 2 2 four twenty-seven mceRnACionAL SOTDE® ETTING BY INST STERN FOR IE WUPPER” SETTING BY ERNST STERN FOR “die wupper” SETTING BY ERNST STERN FOR “die wupper” Jour twenty -eight AUGUST 1922 mreRHACionAL for “Faust” and proved true to his naturalistic tenets, albeit with extremely aggressive color¬ ing. Karl Walser created the most refined stage settings for “Mozart.” Emil Pirchan is best suited to the demands of the modern stage on account of his pronounced suscep¬ tibility to form. The pliant manifold hues of his sinuous ornamentation that appeal to the whole world have made Ernst Stern one of the most popular decorators of the day. P. Aravan- tinos is a representative of modern romantic style. Cesar Klein is the happiest of all modern scene painters, as he adopted from the Expres- sionistic school of painting a bold method of creating interiors, street scenes, open places with tall lamp posts, trenches in battle scenes, the silhouette of Napoleon on Elba, in well defined lines without even approaching anything resem¬ bling banal illusions. Among the architectural artists pride of place must be awarded Pirchan for the simplicity and monumentally of the spacial acoustic effects he uses in so happy a manner even for opera and ballet, supported in his strivings by the refined taste of modern light¬ ing and costumes, to which the present high level of our stage pictures is due in a decided degree as well. Artists of this type are arising all around us and it would go well with many a modern drama were its contents as good as the setting given it. The bond of union enclosing all these manifold endeavors may be recapitulated in the following sentence: The stage is no longer life, but signifies it, and in thus signifying life it no longer follows the laws of illusion but the laws of its own beauty instead, mainly com¬ posed of the unity of space, the independent music of light, the ornamental truth of costume and the symbolical force of the principal requi¬ sites. That is the new order of the stage. And like all new orders it may become just as danger¬ ous as fructifying. Of course, as viewed in its historical aspect (if contemporary tendencies may be considered “historically”), the new German scenecraft must be recognized as a part of the Expressionist movement. Just as Expressionist artists have revolted against Realism and have demonstrated that paintings could be composed that would realize human emotion without mimicing out¬ ward form, and do it more poignantly thereby, so have German scenic artists proved that the drama could be provided with settings that would stimulate the imagination of the beholder with¬ out slavishly guiding it, obtaining effects more powerful and more convincing because originating within the conciousness of the spectator. A DECORATIVE SETTING BY P. ARAVANTINOS FOR “DIE FRAU OHNE SCHATTEn” AUGUST 9 2 2 four twenty -nine mceRriACionAL sm©E@ AN IRON WORKER’S STUDIO The Workshop of Sam ue l Yell in in ^Philadelphia Jour thirty august 1922 mceRriACionAL OTM® SAMUEL YELLIN ■'Artist in Ivon rom that remote day when archi¬ tects and build¬ ers first began to use iron in their structures for its strength, economy of space, adaptability and ease in handling, two new ele¬ ments were added to the history of architecture. These were the creation of the gild of iron workers and the growth of a beauty of utilitarian decora¬ tion that has no parallel in the applied arts. In common with all crafts work as applied to architecture, the use of iron had its rise, its height, and its decline, until the application of this metal to buildings became almost obsolete. Its use persisted in Germany, however, and in Latin countries, the craft surviving with it, par¬ ticularly in the northern nation where the purest traditions of the work have been carried down from medieval times. The traditional use of iron among Latin nations has been carried west w a r d across the Atlantic. And, today, in all Latin-American coun¬ tries, iron is used in domestic architecture, particularly in the fastenings of windows and doors, with a homely kind of pon¬ derosity that is amus¬ ing to Americans trav¬ elling in those lands. It is for the reason of this historic sur¬ vival in Germany and the Latin countries that Samuel Yellin is carrying on the craft of iron w'orker today in a shop in Phila¬ delphia, the architec¬ ture of which is domi¬ nated by Latin influ¬ ences. German by SAMUEL YELLIN MASTER IRON WORKER IN HIS STUDIO- WORKSHOP birth and springing from a race of artists he comes nat¬ urally by his vocation in the fine arts. Entering school at the age of tw-elve, he soon attracted the attention of one of the masters (who was an iron worker outside of his teaching hours) by his fondness for using tools and his skill in design. It is an interesting case of predilection that from his childhood the boy Samuel preferred a hammer to any toy; and by his hammer he has wrought out his present high place, without exaggeration one may say the highest, among American craftsmen. The apprentice system still maintains its old dignity in Germany, or it did in that time, thirty years ago, when the schoolboy Samuel Yellin first interested his master. And for the five years, until he was seventeen, the schoolboy was a regular apprentice in the shop of his teacher, in the classes, at the de¬ signing table and at the forge. He had then come to be a recognized master of ornament. And in ac¬ cordance with the tra¬ ditional custom of the new master workman, Samuel Yellin set out on his travels to earn his way with his ham¬ mers and the other simple tools of the iron worker. In Belgium he spent three years at his craft, reproducing Gothic ironwork and even in fashioning armor. The next two years he spent in Eng¬ land, coming to Phila¬ delphia at the age of twenty-two. At that time our revival of interest in the teach¬ ing of crafts had just begun, and Air. Yellin was engaged to organ- i z e the ironwork classes in the Penn¬ sylvania Museum and The craft spirit of the Middle Ages is felt again in his Philadel¬ phia workshop • by WILLIAM B. MWDRMICK — - - ) cn 1922 Jour thirty -one AUGUST inreRnACionAL School of Industrial Art. It was only a short time before he followed the example of his old German master and set up a shop oi his own. And for fifteen years, now, Mr. Yellin has been the “iron worker” whose name and craft is em¬ blazoned in brass letters on the medieval swinging iron sign hanging on the fagade of his picturesque Arch Street “shop.” With our traditional habit of using resonant titles, the word “shop” seems ill-suited and de¬ cidedly inappropriate for a structure ingly handsome as is this building of Mr. Yellin’s. But that he uses it, as he calls himself an “iron worker,” shows his pro¬ found admiration for the ancient simplicities of the gild. Like the crafts¬ men of those medieval associations, he counts his work and the place he creates it as standing in no need of adventitious attributes. And he has justified this belief in his shop itself and in the ironwork, created by his pencil and hammer, which beautifies so many American buildings and homes of today. Since his shop is a little monument to his work and the traditions of his life and his craft, aside from its beauty and its practical character, a brief description of it falls naturally into this sketch of his career and art. Like ail Latin buildings it stands flush with the street, its austere walls pierced with a few windows protected by wrought-iron grilles. On three of the principal grilles there are medallions with figures, and the appropriate attributes, of the three principal types of iron workers: the Forgeman, the Hingeman and the Armorer, the designs being as Germanic as the grilles are obviously Latin. The entrance is through a court, the vista of which is thoroughly reminiscent of the Mediterranean countries, although the first two doorway grilles are French Gothic while the wooden door, ending the level vista, suggests German Gothic. On the first floor, opening off the court, is the business office and beyond that a large apartment called “my room” by Mr. Yellin. Here every¬ thing is rich in medieval atmosphere, from the plain walls, hung with old tapestries and ex¬ amples of ancient iron¬ work and armor, to the beamed ceiling and the cavernous fireplace, be¬ fore which stands a fine example of Mr. Yellin’s art, a wrought-iron fire screen showing Spanish influence in its design. On an old oak chest stands a French Gothic wood carving of St. Eloi, the patron saint of the iron worker, a symbol of a very real presence in this shop where goodli¬ ness of craftsmanship reaches godliness in the best sense. In the second story are the designing room, the book room — or library, and a little mu¬ seum where Mr. Yellin has gathered together the fruits of twenty years of devotion to col¬ lecting characteristic ex¬ amples of the wrought iron work of Europe and the United States, this last taking the form of a group of curious cooking implements made in Colonial times. On the shelves of the book room is assem¬ bled a library of technical works so fine in character and of such great rarity that they are frequently consulted by crafts teachers and students in Philadelphia. It may be remarked that all this does not seem much like the conventional idea of a “shop” where metal is forged and fashioned into such exquisite things as those with which Mr. Yellin’s name is associated. The actual workrooms are in the rear, so appeal- BY SAMUEL YELLIN Jour tbirty-two august 1922 mceRHAcionAL A WROUGHT IRON CHEST IN THE FRENCH GOTHIC MANNER, BY SAMUEL YELLIN a forge-room on the ground floor with the assembly room above, two AN IRON SCREEN DESIGNED IN THE SPANISH MANNER BY SAMUEL YELLIN great, light-flooded rooms with forges, piles of iron rods, toolracks and benches, with two score craftsmen laboring with one kind of metal, for the most part, and turning the dull, rusty- Iooking iron into forms of exquisite, silvery - toned grace. Workrooms these are, and also schoolrooms. For it is Mr. Yellin’s habit, as the “master,” to give regular weekly lectures on art and the craft of the iron worker to his men. Not long ago the members of the Philadelphia Chapter of the American Institute of Architects visited his shop in a body and, after giving the members a talk on his craft and its relation to architecture, Mr. Yellin took them out into the shop and showed them in a filled practical manner how he worked with his hammer at forge and anvil. This practical method oi inter¬ esting the architects in his craft is chiefly due to Mr. Yellin’s conviction that “the architect must work with the craftsman” if the gild and its products are to progress in the United States. This relation existed in the golden age of the iron worker, and it must be revived completely, he declares, if the crafts are to approach their old perfec¬ tions, a state toward which they are not working today for the reason that archi¬ tects do not encourage them in the proper measure. One of the chief causes of the lack of the develop¬ ment of the craft of the iron worker in this country, Mr. Yellin says, is the fact that “iron is used as a barrier and not as a bridge” to carry its user over an en¬ trance way. Only once, in his experience as an iron AUGUST 922 Jour thirty-three inceRHACionAL sta®i© worker in the United States, has an architect paid his material the compliment of real appreciation. That architect was H. Van Buren Magonigle, who, on receiving a commission to design a Fifth Avenue dwelling, consulted with Mr. Yellin as to the ironwork that was to enter into the orna¬ mentation of the facades. “What I want to do, Yellin,” the architect said to the master, “is to have my house serve as a background for your work.” The three cardinal principles of Mr. Yel- lin’s crafts faith are that ironwork must not be a barrier but must be inviting; that a worker in the metal must know the possi¬ bilities and limitations of his material; and that he must know how much ornament to use and how to use it. Three exquisite illustrations of the ap¬ plication of these prin¬ ciples to his work are shown here in his “French Gothic Mu¬ seum Chest,” the “Gothic Grille” and the floral finial over the doorway leading into the court. These objects represent Gothic design in its purest evocations — craftsmanship of so high an order as to arouse the most mov¬ ing emotions of appre¬ ciation on the part of one who beholds them. 01 the purest French Gothic design, the museum chest suggests to a sensitive visitor the impression that it was intended for presentation to a bride or wife for the keeping of precious objects, this being the actual fact, for Mr. Yellin’s original of this work was such a gift. On its dull silvery surface the Gothic ornament is applied with the hand of a master of this craft, and on the panels are incised the signs of the Zodiac which likewise show the hand of an artist. On the hasp is a figure of a medieval monk holding a book in one arm, a tribute to the library in which the original stands. This figure is literally cut out of the iron and is a superb piece of craft sculpture. lo see the individual members of a piece of work like this, and like the grille and the floral finial, in their unpolished state is a revelation of the possibilities of true craftsmanship. The floral finial over the grille entrance door is a marvelous piece of pure artistry, for it is exquisite in its sense of free design, rising as gracefully from its base as a rosebush. The Gothic grille, with its “exposed lock,” is a complete illustration of Mr. Yellin’s mastery of design, ornament and craft. The finials in each one of the square panels is of a different pattern, each panel forms a perfect quatrefoil, and this effect is carried out in each set of four panels. The bosses at the in¬ tersections of the members are all differ¬ ent, and are the result of Mr. Yellin’s prac¬ tice of what he calls “sketching with a hammer,” using that implement in place of pencil or crayon. In his shop at the present time he. is carrying forward one of his largest commis¬ sions, the grille for the Harkness Memorial at Yale. In place of Gothic ornamentation, Mr. Yellin has applied me¬ dallions showing insignia of the United States Army and soldiers of the Allied armies, the memorial being for Mr. Harkness’ son who was killed in the World War. These modern motifs fit as happily into the whole as do his reliefs of the Forger and the Armorer in the design of the facade of his shop, where rusty iron is transmuted into silvery beauty by this modern practitioner of a medieval craft. LANTERN AND OTHER IRONWORK of samuelyellin’s STUDIO-SHOP Jour thirty-jour AUGUST 1922 mceRnAcionAL mevican live Dr. II. Tait McKen zie makes a memorial figure typifying the youth and manhood of Cambridge returning home from the field of great and victorious adventures THE calm spirit of happiness pervading the thoughts and actions of a soldier returned from winning a war was the theme out oj ivbich Dr. R. Tait McKenzie fashioned the figure which constitutes the chief element in his Victory Memorial for Cambridgeshire, England, unveiled at the university town of Cambridge on July 3. His sculptured young soldier represents this through the carriage of his body, the expres¬ sion of his face, the attributes of conquest in the rose he carries in his right band with his helmet, and the German helmet partly concealed by the laurel wreath flung over his rifle barrel. He is on parade, as the condi¬ tion of his uniform and kit testifies, passing through his native town, the pose of his head suggesting he has recognized some friend in the welcoming throng through which the troops are passing for their muster out of the military service. VICTORY MEMORIAL FOR CAMBRIDGE, ENGLAND BY R. TAIT MCKENZIE Merited praise has come to Doctor McKenzie in the past for his figures of athletes in action, and much of this perfection of manhood is preserved in this latest work to come from his studio in Philadelphia. His aim was to present a type that would typify the young men of Cambridgeshire who left farm and shop and college to join the British army in the World War. As in keeping with the spirit of victory, this work breathes cheerfulness and happiness and awakens those emo¬ tions in every beholder of the memorial. The monu¬ ment stands in the town of Cambridge at the meeting- place of three roads, a position that gives it a proper background and surroundings, as representing the thought of the people of Cambridgeshire who conceived the plan for the monument. DETAIL OF THE HEAD OF THE CAMBRIDGE “victory” AUGUST 1922 four thirty -five inceRnACionAL The Tvt0N0Cjfo4M and theTW AR veral of my best friends, and even relatives, have taken me to task recently for being too sympathetic toward the more recent move- “ ments in European art. They speak seriously of “the menace of Futur¬ ism”— using the term inaccurately and with finality, like those others who are constantly shouting “Bol¬ shevism!” at any political or eco¬ nomic idea that does not happen to suit their fancy. But having just returned from a tour that took me through the chief art centers of Europe, I have ample reason to be¬ lieve that the future of world art lies with the modernists. Moreover, I see that in Europe modern art has be¬ come not only popular but respectable — terms not altogether synonymous. In tracing the new movement abroad, 1 didn’t pick up the trail with any certainty until I reached Amsterdam. Official Brussels and official Antwerp showed little sign of any influence beyond that of the late Impres¬ sionists, and of course official London had shown itself virginally innocent of any traffic with un¬ orthodox thinkers. But in Amsterdam some un¬ mistakably extreme canvases had got into the Stedehjk Museum; and when I wandered into the Kronprinzen-palais in Berlin, the new annex to the National Gallery, I knew that the avalanche had slid. Matisse, with his six canvases, began to look old-fashioned in such company — and even Matisse isn’t in the Metropolitan yet. Later I found that this official recognition of the radicals — Pechstein, Kokoschka, Marc, Kirch- ner, Meckel — was common among German state and municipal galleries. Each one has its room devoted to the “Junge Kunst” movement, usually with international representation. It was, indeed, the director of one of the world’s most famous galleries who said to me: “There is no such thing as a conservative Change from stylistic beauty to looseness came in Germany with advent of Expressionism • * by SHELDON CHENEY A DECORATIVE MONOGRAM BY ELLA WELTMANN-WEIN FIVE MONOGRAMS DESIGNED BY ELLA WELTMANN-WEIN young painter in Germany; the country as a whole is committed to Expressionism.” It was an overstatement, but substantially true. Both the republic of Germany and its neighbor Russia are centers of artistic experiment and revolution. If artists in the larger field of painting and sculpture have thus swung over to the side of the extrem¬ ists, it is only natural that designers in the fields of the applied arts and of the minor graphic arts should simi¬ larly strike into new paths. It is in one of these minor arts that I have found an illuminating illustration of the whole situation, in the art of monogram-making, of the shaping of signets or emblems out of initials. Before the war there appeared in Darmstadt a book entitled “600 Monograms and Signets,” edited and published by Alexander Koch, who has done much to spread knowledge of the arts by issuing a group of sumptuous arts and crafts magazines in Germany. The book was by all odds the most intriguing collection of mono¬ grams existent, and the few copies that came to America have been passed around from designer to designer and from collector to collector, so that the volume has attained a considerable reputation. Recently there appeared an advertisement of a new edition with changes and additions, and I secured a copy for comparison with the other. It is in that comparison that the idea for this article originated: in the obvious difference of ideal and method, in the different “feel” of the pre-war and post-war editions. Where the one carried design well-nigh to perfection of refine¬ ment and style, within the narrow limits of decora¬ tive lettering, the other breaks away from refined line and facile handling to seek new decorative values in freer forms and in looser technique. Without claiming that the war has actually accomplished this change in a by-way of design, as my title might (h la ft four thirty-six AUGUST 922 I. MODERN GERMAN MONOGRAMS FROM THE FIRST EDITION OF “600 MONOGRAMME UND SIGNETS” II. modern german monograms FROM THE SECOND EDITION OF “600 MONOGRAMME UND SIGNETS” mceRnACionAL suggest, I think it is certain that it hastened the revolu¬ tionary movement in art in Germany, finally discredit¬ ing the hanging-on creed of Impressionism (and with it all the other forms of real¬ ism), and bringing a wave of experiment outside the accepted realms of truthful imitation of nature and glori¬ fication of technique. The wTar too is a con¬ tributing cause to the overemphasis on violence, speed and horror that is manifest in much con¬ temporary German and Russian painting and design: it brought forward the “power motive” in art. It displaced the static with the dynamic. The problem of designing monograms or sig¬ nets is one of the most restricted in the field of art, for a monogram which is not first and foremost legible, misses its reason for being; and the letters of the alphabet are fixed and uncompromising — even notoriously resistant to change. Readibility first, then decorative invention — invention in combining the letter forms, in a bit of added ornament, in shaping the fundamental letter-lines to new variations pleasing to the eye. There is, of course, beyond that an indeter¬ minate element of fitness to use and appropriate¬ ness to character. Milady wants on her note- paper a device rather daintier than the merchant stencilling his trade-signet on his cartons and packing-cases; and the “flapper” with her mono¬ gram on her stocking wants something less poster- esque than the china-decorator. The designer ideally takes into consideration all these matters; whether the ultimate material is to be ink and paper, linen and embroidery, glass and paint; whether the user is man, woman or child, mer¬ chant or librarian, conservative blue-stocking or socialist. Little monogram, but big task! The designers of the monograms shown on the first black and red page accompanying this article — all of them reproduced from the first edition of the book mentioned — have achieved some very appealing decorative compositions. In general they have achieved their aim by refining the letter forms and adding to the characteristic “bent” of the letter a grace and an elegance not ordinarily attained. They have “stylized” them with a high finish and a catchy refinement. In general they have avoided flourishes in the sense in which Ietterers of an earlier day added flourishes to the bare letter- form; these later designers have rather made the letter itself TWO PRE-WAR MONOGRAM DESIGNS BY VON LOTTE KRAUSE-RUDOLPH one, two or take on the character of a flourish. Sometimes a circle, square or other geometric figure is adopted and char¬ acter given by the clever¬ ness with which the com¬ bined letters approximate such an outline, or cross it or repeat it. But always the three initials are what stand in emphasis. There is no variation in viewpoint. Cleancut execution, a highly artificial styliza¬ tion, a sophisticated union of posteresque heavi¬ ness and attenuated elegance — such are the means by which the designers made the original book a treasure-house of grace, prettiness and refine¬ ment, as these qualities apply to monogram¬ making. They mark the height of polished style in the field ot the signet. Such achievement sometimes carries its faults in the very accom¬ plishment of its virtues. Refinement may turn out to be over-refinement, style may prove to be an ephemeral surface quality gained at the expense of sturdiness, directness, form. If the designs in the new edition really mark progress toward something more to be desired in art, as the artists represented and the editor evidently believe to be the case, the gain will be found in vigor rather than finish, and in the wider individuality which is made possible in a freer technique. In turning to the second group of illustrations one recognizes at a glance that within a few years there was extraordinary loosening-up in hand¬ ling, an abandonment of cleancut, polished surface technique as an end in itself, even a wilful swing toward sketchiness. That is all very typical of modernist art in its other branches, typical of the change in, or scorn for, technique. But the question follows: have these later monogrammists captured the other and more fundamental char¬ acteristics of Expressionism or Post-Impression¬ ism, or only its surface aspect? It is evident that there are special difficulties in the way of their achieving a parallel to the abandonment of truth to nature, or making their designs primarily expressions of aesthetic form — both fundamental characteristics of Expressionist endeavor. The material of their art is not the outward aspects of nature, which after all do allow a considerable variation of approach, or any¬ thing subjective suggested by nature, or emotionally imagined form, but instead, a set of TWO PRE-WAR MONOGRAM DESIGNS BY VON LOTTE KRAUSE-RUDOLPH AUGUST 9 2 2 Jour Jorty -one mceRHACionAL SOTM© absolutely determined and arbitrary symbols. Their starting point is in something obvious, and they must keep that thing obvious in the end — and obviousness is a chief sin in the eyes of the modernist painter or sculptor. Their task is a hard one. There is, to be sure, a creative or inventive element in the art, but it may lead away from concentration on the letter; or else, to be practical, it may have to take itself out in grace, style and catchiness — all surface qualities. In short, while I be¬ lieve absolutely in the necessity for painting and sculpture to shift to an Expressionistic or emotional basis, I see difficulties in the way of bringing the new or rediscovered principles into the practice of the so-called applied or useful arts. The relationship of the looser designs to Expressionism, then, seems rather a matter of surface handling than of fundamental principle. The new painters have cast aside refinement of technique; ergo, the progressive artist in every other line must get splashy. I credit the designers concerned with more sincerity than that statement would indicate. Doubtless most of them are ani¬ mated by a desire to create more freely than was possible in the polished tradition. But looking at the two books ot monograms, or even comparing the two small groups of illustrations herewith, I feel that the later group fails to register any such gain in aesthetic values as becomes apparent when one places the best of Expressionist painting beside the best of the period preceding. I find myself more intrigued still by the earlier book — and I think it is not merely a personal preference. Similar comparisons might be made in several arts today; and perhaps the case of these two books, illuminating so clearly a change that has come over art methods in half a decade, might be made to illuminate a truth beyond: that there is an element of blindness in the way in which the applied arts are “catching on” to Expressionism, that principles or methods valid enough for the progressive painter or sculptor are being applied to architecture, stage decoration and book design without sufficient regard for the structural or the practical purposes inseparable from these other arts. Perhaps because most of the uses of the monogram are sophisticated — note paper, embroidered socks, tea¬ room china — the art still finds its best development in sophisticated, smart, Secessionist design. Or will the next phase incorporate some Expressionist mannerisms while still retaining smartness and elegance, better worked out than in the exam¬ ples added in the new book? Perhaps Mr. Koch will have another edition for us, with as marked changes, five years hence. Or perhaps I am all wrong in my judgment and deduc¬ tions. But after all, this review has given International Studio excuse to reproduce for American readers some of the best examples of the art achieved anywhere at any time — and perhaps that is what really matters. Inspiration is better than precept. Since this is in effect a review of the two books, let me add in literary column fashion that the exact title of the new (and presumably the only available) edition is “600 Monogramme und Zeichen,” and that it is published by Alexander Koch at Darmstadt. The artists whose designs are here reproduced out of the first volume are Karl Sigrist, who did several of the designs in Plate I, Georg Breitwieser, Joseph Fuchs, Erich Biittner, Bruno Eyermann, Laura Kuno, Paul Dienst, Swanhild Hentschel, Gustav Liidecke, G. Olbricht, Willy Belling, Paul Lang, Bernhard Wenig, Ida M. Demuth, Rudolf Koch, Julia Strobel and F. H. Ehmcke. The last-named is perhaps the chief propagandist for decorative- letter reform in Germany. The list is long enough, however, to indicate that no one man or one school is responsible for the excellence of modern German work in this field. The names of those making the second group of designs are Paul W. Hiibner, four of whose designs for linen embroidery are shown, Hans Melehing, Maria Kraus, Richard Kannenberg, Georg Schmidt, Helmuth Haupt¬ mann, Anna Forster, Eugen Stolzer, and Willi Geiger. Any student of graphic art will find un¬ familiar names here, Geiger being the only de¬ signer in the group who is well known outside Germany. The new edition of the book, inci¬ dentally, contains not only the work of this second group, but also some three-fourths of the plates from the earlier edition, bridging over, in a sense, the transition period from style to style. Thus a little thing tells the story of a big change in art. Even a stray European postage stamp, poster- esquely rendered, may open before an American, accustomed to his own, the tight little designs, a whole new hori¬ zon of possible beauty; and a mono¬ gram, neatly loose and carefully careless in look, bespeaks a world in conilict and a revolution in aesthetics. A PRE-WAR MONOGRAM DESIGN BY JOSEPH SOBAINSKY-BRESLAU A PRE-WAR MONOGRAM DESIGN BY JOSEPH SOBAINSKY-BRESLAU four jorty-two AUGUST 1922 mceRnACionAL (jfuy tPhie duBOlS agazines of any description using articles on painting or sculpture use only those in which the subject is glorified. This department is to be run without preconception. Were it a consistent reaction from the custom it would be spent in blame rather than in praise. Indeed some sort of ad¬ justment is neces¬ sary under prevail¬ ing conditions: a stick to support a toppling fence. There are two sides to everything. There are even two sides to so great a popular modern idol as Cezanne. One of these is seamy. This de¬ partment may end by being known as “The Seamy Side.” But that is not in the least bit annoy¬ ing. The only under- taker’s magazine that has come to our attention is known as The Sunny Side. In a country whose lack of inter¬ est in art is largely a product of its ignorance of art, it is an enlivening thing to be able to prove that esthetics are a by-product of art and that es¬ thetes are rarer in it than ordi¬ nary men. Respect for art and ignorance are synonymous. In art, as in religion, respect is a halfway measure. Respected painting is one whose qualities while admirable are not likable. It is possible, for example, to respect or admire the patience and the booklore brought to the mak¬ ing of a decoration for a public building without in any way feeling the inspiring glow' which comes in the presence of a real work of art; while, indeed, hating the thing as art. The decorations which Barry Faulkner and Ezra Winter have completed for the Eastman Auditorium in Rochester were to be seen re¬ cently in their studios in t h e Grand Central Terminal. The au¬ ditorium is a gift to the city of Rochester. It is a public building and one of the largest and most expensive of its kind in the country. The in¬ terior decoration is Italian. The painted panels are the work of two graduates of the American Academy at Rome. It is scarcely worth while here to go into the fallacy of the architectural habit. That habit obtains no more here than abroad. Architects are built with their eyes fac¬ ing backward. En¬ gineers are able to make them see ahead rarely and then only for short spaces of time. The strain on the tra¬ ditional cord is too strong. Their eyes must snap back. The excep¬ tions are more numerous among mural painters. But mural paint¬ ers are dependent upon architects. Especially is this true of those who would execute the larger works only possible in public buildings. The architect as an adapter of ancient styles cannot DRAMATIC MUSIC BY BARRY FAULKNER One oj a set of decorations done by this artist and Ezra Winter Jo, the Eastman Auditorium, Rochester, N.Y. AUGUST 922 four forty-three inceRHAcionAL SOTM© look with favor upon a style derived from a greater love for the present than for the past. The mural painter then is chosen for his knowl¬ edge of the style adapted to the construction of the building to be decorated. He is given a great deal of freedom in his prison. However, the strong man makes the most of conditions (Titian painted under a patron’s direction), and it is quite possible that restrictions simplify problems. There is this difference today: the modern painter is permitted every freedom while the modern architect admits the validity of none. Cramp a free man and you kill him; free a habitual prisoner, he is lost. The architect cannot be free, the painter cannot be tied. They can meet on common ground then only when the architect, who is the manager, is able to find and tame a free or, for the good of the simile, a wild painter. The American Academy at Rome is an institution given over apparently to that particular bit of business. The decorations of Messrs. Faulkner and Winter may be compared to those done under the direction of Robert Chanler and Vadim Tchernoff for the Park Avenue fair, for both are frivolous. They are frivolous with a mighty difference, because while one proceeds with a very conscious sense of its own importance the other goes gayly on fully convinced of its utter futility. Faulkner and Winter want to be impressive. Chanler and his Russian friend wanted to be amusing. The first pair place their faith in tradi¬ tion and the second in the shocking, which is certainly the antithesis of the traditional. There may be some question whether the aim to be amusing is frivolous or not. Puritans used to claim that it is. But this does not matter. The important thing here is that in order to be amusing it is necessary to employ inventive faculties, to think, to do serious work, while in order — if we are to judge from the panels of these Prix de Rome men — to be impressive one has only to borrow certain ritualistic things from tradition. <§> <§> <§> The most insidious resemblance to truth is probably produced by the librarian or by the cataloguing minds of men who work to make learning easy for laggards. This is not set down as a discovery. As long as there have been schools of thought, and they are probably among infini¬ ties, it has been found expedient to dispose of large bodies of men under one title. The first cataloguer divided humanity into white and black, yellow and red races. The second cut the world in half so that we had East and West, the East intuitive and the West intellectual. These were the casual generalizations of minds engaged in other pur¬ suits. Germany had not yet produced meticulous¬ ness. Efficiency’s head wras still on the pillow. We spoke of good and bad people. Sub-divisions and sub-divisions of sub-divisions have since come into their own. There are more names to learn every day. For the good of this note, there is the example of the traveling artist. Years ago it was said that the artist could go where he would to produce, for he brought his heart with him. Munkacsky, who certainly has ceased to count, was saying: “To be an artist have a heart and colors.” Times have changed that a little. The heart is now considered a very efficient pump. Doctors examine it. When it murmurs, which is a purely physical protest, its owner is saved from insurance bills and soldier¬ ing. The truth is that when it ceases to be a pump it is without value in an efficient world. We need not go into memories of hearts, for they are confused with symbolism and symbolism will want popularity among intellectuals until it no longer needs to polish its appearance of efficiency. The traveling artists are divided into men who make notes in passing and men who try to make finished pictures with an accent on “try.” One is an amiable chap who compares new sights to ones he knows better; if he is from the North he finds palm trees theatrical. The other cannot quite make himself hunt heads in Borneo but wishes he were more adaptable. Most of them are casual fellows weary of the arm chair, the open lire and their own thoughts, who get away from the last by distracting them with new sights. Of course, they are all objective. There are other types, among them those of fashion who could not have lived having missed seeing Chauve Souris and the South Seas. Another one, and he is more frequent among engineers than among artists, is he who must pack rustic clothes and be off to God’s country at regular intervals. Some, of course, are literally away for their heart’s sake, like Robert Louis Stevenson. Few have made very deep notches in totem poles. But ail this means nothing, for it is possible and probable that Taine’s History of English Literature is the most important work on that subject and that Carlyle’s French Revolution is not altogether bad, as we are beginning to believe. Rockwell Kent has shipped for Tierra del Fuego as an able seaman. This news with any other painter might be shocking. With Kent it does not fall short of the expected. With those who know him well it might even seem to be a very necessary thing for him to do. In Chicago there is an “exclusive” club with a membership of five thousand and a dining room which could four forty-four august 1922 mteRnAcioriAL SOTM© vie in size with the Pennsylvania station. It is undoubtedly a result of civic pride and probably the fulfillment of a desire bred by that pride to possess something which, in being unique, shall be sensational. Peoples do not readily arrive at new ideas nor discard old ones. That size should be seized upon here is therefore natural. Besides the desire for sensationalism cannot be coupled witli a sense of humor. A tiny club in Chicago would have truly been sensational for it would have been out of character, an anomaly. I may do both Rockwell Kent and Chicago an injury in sup¬ posing that they resemble each other. Rockwell Kent devotes a number of hours each day to exer¬ cise. That might mean that he de¬ votes a number of hours each day to making himself into something which he is not naturally. Perhaps this is also true of Chicago. The will to be cultured is so strong there that there is abso¬ lutely no fear of those particular exercises that lead to culture. Perhaps the comparison is ridic¬ ulous; it is, moreover, the result of a desire to please Kent rather than to please Chicago. Indeed no city of her character can be overjoyed by a comparison with so small a thing as a single man. The man on the other hand is given a size that must certainly be beyond whatever wild hope he may have placed in his exercises. There is a picture by Arthur B. Davies in which a mountain is balanced by the figure of a very slim girl. It is quite possible that most men who have seen that picture have preferred the girl to the mountain. Heroic proportions often fail to produce affection. The idea suggested by the girl and the mountain or by the little figure of Napoleon and the tremendous expanse of Europe is that size — Kent and Chicago willy nilly — has nothing to do with strength. We might go further here and assert, without more evidence, that vitality has nothing to do with exercise. The man who requires exercise to make himself strong is without natural strength. That it is necessary for Kent to go to Tierra del Fuego or Alaska or Newfoundland may be proved by the dainty drawings done in the city and signed Hogarth, Jr., or by the fact of the stren- uousness of his physical life. His secret aims could only be described with mighty words. He can get no sen¬ sations from trivial things. I do not know whether Tierra del Fuego is a more uncom¬ fortable place than Alaska, but I am willing to wager that it is. He has gone from the Berkshire Hills to Monhegan Island, then to Newlound- land and then to Alaska and now to the southern end of the world. The drink each time is stronger. This fact permits the conjecture that as man grows he crystallizes, since greater and greater shocks are required to puncture the thickening skin of his callousness. Where will Rockwell Kent go after he has been to Tierra del Fuego? He is of the order of traveling artist who, at intervals, must find himself in God’s country. The explorer Stanley described that country as one in which a terrible and impressive solitude drove him to the thought of God. That may mean that solitude drives man to the con¬ templation of his own soul. It is certain that the majority of mining engineers do not spend much time in the examination of their own or other people’s souls in cities. Rockwell Kent in the city is very much like them. Without solitude he is without soul. He discovers his emotions in the presence of an austere snow covered mountain. People in towns “ROCKWELL KENT IN ‘god’s country’” BY GUY PENE DU BOIS “From the mountain peak he will look out upon the world arid find that men do not count in it at all, with one exception, andthat excep¬ tion will make him very happy” august 1922 Jour forty-five mceRnActonAL SIMM© are too tiny. It does not matter that the soul of man has filled lakes with mountains, for the objective nature is only moved by physical evi¬ dence. Man, whatever he does, compared to a mountain is an ant. Measure them and see for yourself. Some people consider a gigantic city a greater work than a gigantic mountain. But they are people who consider man so important that things done for him and by him become of the greatest moment; and who also know that one of the sins of cities is waste. Besides all this Rockwell Kent is an architect. He has drawn plans for buildings and found little men to put them up at so much a day. He cannot be awed by a building. He can be awed by that great waste which is a mountain. He will be made to feel small by a struc¬ ture with the build¬ ing of which he had and could have nothing to do, for it is inconceivable that any man could spend valuable time upon the construction of a mountain. And it will baffle him a great deal, so much so, indeed, that he will climb to the top of it in order to prove to himself or to the mountain that Rockwell Kent by pure force of will can arrive at a point where his line of vision will crown the mountain’s. From the mountain peak he will look out upon the world and find that men do not count in it at all — with one exception, and that exception will make him very happy. <§> <§> <§> Uniforms are screens over human errors, a camouflage covering man’s habit of expressing himself which he does in smaller things like neckties and shirts, a regulation of revolutionary emotional moments. When we call a soldier a martinet we mean that he resembles a mechanism rather than a man. That he should become one in a uniform seems natural enough to be inevita¬ ble. But most of us do the same things daily. While individual vagary makes many changes they are still very slight. They cannot be great and comfortable at once. Social outlaws are those who misuse napkins and forks. Indeed, divorcees are preferable to them, and murderers to the man who supplants a fork with a knife at table. But the groove built for the soldier’s progress is the most terrible of all grooves, for he cannot parade down it in clothes of his own choice, nor fall into his own gait, nor speak without permission. The perfect soldier is an artificial pea in an artificial pod. That is the compli¬ ment that Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney paid to him in the monument which was recently un¬ veiled at One Hun¬ dred and Sixty- seventh Street, New York. Artificiality is a veneer that force will crack, a habit that tor¬ tured souls shake off. Sher¬ man’s “War is Hell’’ cannot be an altogether truthful statement, for it is too simple, straight¬ forward, uncomplicated. It is entirely probable that three words can never make a truth. The military men who spoke at the unveiling of Mrs. Whitney’s monument spoke from the dictation of their groove. Life and death and patriotism and love are the simple facts of existence. One speaks of patriotism with reverence, of love with a laugh. With death there comes a cessation of drilling. Perhaps time hangs heavily for soldiers in Heaven. But peace also must make sluggards of them. Sherman talked for the benefit of civilians. War is an opportunity to relieve with gay ribbons the drabness of efficient uniforms. Soldiers are school boys. Decorate them for running fast in the right direction and you win their devotion. WAR MEMORIAL FOR WASHINGTON HEIGHTS BY GERTRUDE VANDERBILT WHITNEY Jour forty-six AUGUST 1922 mceRriACionAL They like noise and glory. They like war. They like Hell. But you will never find a soldier to speak ill of the traditional mother idea. He never forgets that before he became a regulated boy he was a regular boy owning a mother able to over¬ look broken rules. With her he was never a mummy bound in regulation red tape, though he wears that with an air and gets joy out of it. Women have fortunate ignorance of platitudes or defiance of them, anyway. They can be economic. They can weigh values. If peace is important one might do well to remember the expense of glory. Only cheap things can be paid for in dollars. Mrs. Whitney writes something like this in her golden group. Impersonal goddesses with widespread arms and eyes lifted for a sight of glory may be left to the hands of the academic males, to the pomp¬ ous dealers in generalities. Besides only some cool sister to the goddess on the ten cent piece could remain unblinded by that sun. Young men who were straight, supple and confident up to arrogance bow before it. Most monuments are of soldiers on holidays, however, — atoms of armies in war. This one is of boys who had played at being soldiers and who, suddenly, one day, before dying, became serious. The idea presented here could lead into endless calculation. Is war worth that expense? Are the deaths of war an extravagance? The answer is — as you feel about it. War theories can be juggled like oranges. The thing itself is probably inevita¬ ble. Pacifist or militarist will read his own idea into the monument. Perhaps spankings are good for the race. There has been a difference in boys since the sparing of the rod. In any case the whole thing is here without the casual impertinence of the platitude. To a generation which lived through a war, a fact on it may have more signifi¬ cance than a designing bit of propaganda. <§> <§> <§> On the question of art criticism I have heard many things of which the most ingenious was told me by an artist. He apparently was a little afraid that the secrets of his sleight of hand might become general property. He had his living to defend. He said: “It isn’t fair for an artist to be an art critic.” Whistler had said something like that about laymen. As radical statements they are both right and both wrong. The most frequently reiterated attack on the artist as critic is made on the ground of his prejudice in favor of work of the character of his own. This will only sound reasonable to those who have never examined lay criticism. It must be true that to be a man at all is to own preju¬ dices. The critic without prejudice, whether artist or layman, is a headless fellow whose feet will fit anybody’s shoes. The really great trouble with the artist-critic is that he takes too much in art for granted and is therefore likely to leave things unsaid which would clarify the trend of his argu¬ ment. The lay-critic, on the other hand, is amazed without reason for amazement. He will go tremulous over a mere technical trick. 1 he Man theddeantinil Hands The painting by Jan Mabuse (1472-1533) reproduced in color on the cover of this month’s issue of International Studio was for several years prior to 1921 in the private collection of Charles-Leon Cardon, who called it a Holbein. In 1 9 1 1 it was shown at Charleroi, Belgium, in an exhibition of Walloon art as a Mabuse. But when Cardon bought it he ascribed the work to Holbein owing to a resemblance he found in the treatment of the painting to that in Holbein’s famous pic¬ ture of “The Ambassadors” in the National Gallery in London. When the Cardon collection was dispersed in 1921 the work was purchased by Mr. Francis Kleinberger of the Kleinberger Galleries, (through whose courtesy the Inter¬ national Studio reproduces it), and Air. Klein¬ berger at once restored to the picture its original attribution, in which step he was backed by the recognized experts in early Flemish art. Everything that is characteristic of Jan Mabuse, both as an artist and as a man, is to be found in this work. Its supreme elegance, par¬ ticularly in the marvellous painting of the hands, the brilliant palette, the impeccably smooth sur¬ face, the incisive outlines, are all here to sign it as a Mabuse. And the gorgeously ornate costume of “Le Gentilhomme” is a reflection of the painter’s oersonal taste in dress, for there is an existing record of the predilection of Mabuse for clothes, splendid even for the first half of the sixteenth century. The character of the lace itself shows another marked tendency of Mabuse, to give to his men a Socratic cast ol countenance, a mannerism he shares with Quentin Matsys. august 1922 Jour forty-seven inceRnAcionAL SOTOE© Wkilctdel pkia Acquires Rare Work l amcs yreaic and his damily ’ by James Jeale The Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts has just added this interesting portrait group to its “Gallery oj Artists.” James Peale, though not so well known as his brother, Charles Willson Peale, painted numerous por¬ traits and was one oj the first American miniature artists. This family group, painted in 1795, portrays the father and mother and five children with that mixture oj quaint conventionalism and easy grace that is the chief charm oj the pictures oj the period. It is quite in the style of the “ picture in the small” oj the XVIII century. A “Gallery oj Artists” is an important part oj many European museums, notably the Ujfizi in Florence. The one in the Pennsylvania Academy gives particular representation to the early Americans. A group which balances the one illustrated here is oj Joseph Wright and bis family, and near it is one oj William S. Mount and his wife, both painted by the artists themselves. Mount was the first American genre painter. There is also a self-portrait by James Peale, while his nephew, Rembrandt Peale, is vonr/JPOvifo// r /11c /1 /jflviflpp /~> f t ri O O VI /' r) OS'! I I T\t /"/ 1 1 fl Ci Yt jour forty-eight AUGUST 9 2 2 mceRriAcionAL An ARTIST "By Bight" hatever may be our current con¬ victions on the subject of her¬ edity, it is an interesting fact that Helen Peale, present day portrait¬ ist, is a great-great-grand¬ daughter of Rembrandt Peale, painter of Washing¬ ton and his contemporaries. The modern representative of the family has connected Colonial art with the art of today in a truly unique manner, by adhering to tra¬ dition. History names four Peales who were artists, of whom Rembrandt was the youngest. The next in point of age was his elder brother, Raphael. Charles Willson Peale, their father, named almost all of his large family after artists, though only THE LATE HAMILTON EASTER FIELD BY HELEN PEALE Helen Peale keeps alive the tradition of a family devoted to portraiture since the 1700' s * by HELEN COM/TOCK his two eldest sons became painters. He himself was a man of many talents. Not only was he a painter of note, whose many portraits have helped to preserve for us some¬ thing of the spirit of an im¬ portant era, but he was skilled in various crafts. He was a silver - smith, a modeler in clay and wax, he sawed the ivory for his miniatures, moulded the glass for them and made the shagreen cases. He was also a soldier and a legislator. The fourth artist of the family was James, brother to Charles Willson, a painter of miniatures par¬ ticularly. Although it might seem that Helen Peale’s concen¬ tration on portraiture was due partly to example, she was really not led by emula¬ tion alone to adopt her profession. Her predilection AUGUST l Q 2 2 Jour for ty -nine imreRnACionAL TO .R- < m M :/j£ '■■ % ■ jiSL MR. WALTER EHRICH BY HELEN PEALE for drawing pictures of people was instinctive. Her family had moved to the West before Helen Peale was born and they had to some extent lost touch with the artistic tradition that still remained in the eastern branch of the family. She was brought up in an atmosphere in which her own individuality was encouraged rather than the imitation of the accomplishments of her ancestors. It was only when her art had grown to definite proportions and she had already embarked in her chosen field, that she came East, to Philadelphia, and there, in the home of a great aunt, stepped into the very atmosphere of the past and heard of her artist forbears from one to whom their illustrious memory was particularly dear. In this home she saw Rembrandt Peale’s first sell-portrait, at the age of thirteen, and heard her aunt tell how lie came home from school one day, threw down his books, and declared that he was through with all institutions of learning and had determined to be a painter. This portrait was the fruit of the declaration. Next to it hung another self-portrait, his last, made when he was eighty-one. On other walls were many por¬ traits of the Peale family, and ol Washington, which her aunt so cherishes that they have never been shown in public. This was a rich atmosphere for the young artist to revel in, and yet it came when the formative period was past, and did no more than to confirm her in her choice. In view of the fact that Helen Peale has elected the pencil for her medium, it is interesting to read an account written by Rem¬ brandt Peale himself of his early experiments in drawing, an account which appears in C. Edwards Lester’s book, “The Artists of America”: “A sister, older than myself, was regularly advancing in a course of drawing that excited my admiration. Daily, as I was liberated from school, I rushed to her room and watched every movement of her pencil, which I comprehended as preliminary to drawing with the brush. When she chanced to be otherwise engaged, I sedulously, but un¬ seen, copied the drawings she had made. It was the work of many days. But when she saw them, nothing could induce her to con¬ tinue, because she erroneously supposed that I had drawn, without any effort, what had cost her so much pains. In my subsequent studies, from an impression it was best to leave me to my own impulses, my father only gave me a passing remark, or some general direction, but with this special advice — to acquire correctness in drawing before I should attempt the use of the brush.” If Helen Peale had been the recipient of this advice she could not have carried out his instruc¬ tions more literally. Rembrandt Peale used his drawing only as the merest foundation, and passed rapidly on to the use of oils, but his descendent of today has gone far indeed with her pencil, so that with her it is a fine art. She has carried her medium to the top of its possibilities, and has devoted herself to it exclusively. Though the pencil offers only an economy of means, she has made it yield rich results. Because of its limita¬ tions, her expressiveness argues all the greater skill. The clarity, refinement, delicacy and Jour fifty AUGUST 922 mceRrjACionAL SOTM© strength of her work are the result of turning its difficulties to profit and advantage. Helen Peale is more than usually interested in human na¬ ture. Her drawings are more than accurate sketches of feature and form — in fact if they were only this, no matter how perfect technically, the artist would con¬ sider them a failure. If they are not vivid with meaning, if they do not give an illuminating glimpse into the character of her sitter, then she would consider the result worthless. She feels that her insight into character deepens with a study of varying types, and in looking over a group of her drawings it is noticeable how many different kinds of people have been her subjects and how well she has rendered the personality of each. She desires to make a portrait so expressive that even to a stranger it would reveal the “inner man.” In her concentration on char¬ acter, she sets her own personal¬ ity aside and lets her pencil become the channel for the expression of her subject’s in¬ dividuality. Her work is free from mannerism. She uses her pencil sparingly, and puts in no extraneous lines to show technical cleverness. There is evident in her work the wise restraint which knows when the culminating point has been attained in the process of recording her impression of the sitter’s character and appearance. Because of the degree to which she possesses this rare quality, her portraits are remarkably illuminating in their revelation of the personality of her subjects. Another characteristic is adaptability. She varies her method to suit her subject. With one she makes fine, firm lines express what she feels. In portraying another, she dispenses with all hard and fast outlines, and soft gray masses alone define contour. And again, there is a bold definiteness about the blocking in of light and dark. This variety in technique stands her in good stead, for her subjects come from every walk of life and from every race. Sometimes it is the inscrutable Slav or baffling Oriental that interests her, and it is a tribute to her penetration that she gives us so clear an impression of the very fundamentals of their na- MR- ARNOLD genthe . BY HELEN PEALE tures. Sometimes her subjects are debutantes; again it is their mothers whom she draws, and as she presents each one you see something that stands for the essence of individuality. Her drawings of artists are among her best, perhaps because she herself, being an artist, has a sympathetic understanding of their keenly sensitive temperaments Helen Peale has exhibited her drawings fre¬ quently in New York in the last few years, and last February the Ehrich Galleries held a show devoted entirely to her work. Her next exhibition, she says, will be of portraits in oil. She feels the need for the richer expression that color will give. The depth and vigor, the greater vitality that is possible in oil, will give her a broader field. It will be like offering one who has a single octave the whole range of the keyboard. She has fulfilled the instructions of her famous ancestor to the letter, and has gained an assurance of touch, a mastery ol line, a fluency in the handling of contour that promise achievement for the future. august 1922 four fifty-one X5he EDITOR'S for AUGUST r. Matsukata, Japanese ship builder, who amassed millions during the World War, is building in Tokio a great endowed Museum of Occidental Art. This gift to Nippon some say is to enable it to understand the taste of the Western peoples, in order that its artisans may manufacture goods that will sell in Europe and America. Others declare it is simply an expression of Mr. Matsukata’s admiration for Western art and his desire to impart that admira¬ tion to his countrymen. Maybe both views are correct. At any rate Mr. Matsukata is spending millions in the erection of his museum and other millions in providing fine examples of painting and sculpture to adorn it. The Japanese philanthropist engaged Mr. Frank Brangwyn, who is both architect and painter, to design the building for the museum. The British artist’s problem was to evolve a structure in the European style that would not look out of place in the shadow of Fujiyama. How he solved this problem will be of interest to the whole art world. International Studio asked Mr. Brangwyn for the right to reproduce his plans. He replied that he would allow the magazine to reproduce Ins drawings first if it would devote a leading article to the museum and its contents. This article, written by Mrs. Gordon-Stables from material supplied by Mr. Brangwyn, will be the first feature of the September number. It will be preceded by a reproduction in color of Mr. Brangwyn’s “The Caravan,” which is one of the paintings Mr. Matsukata obtained. There will be a full set of photographs of the architect’s drawings, and twenty-seven reproductions of great examples of painting and sculpture bought by the ship builder. Altogether fourteen pages will be devoted to the museum. One of the most individual and striking things in the whole range of contemporary American art is the symbolism of Robert W. Chanler, as expressed in his screens. Their vigorous and dynamic decorative quality sets them aside from any other productions of the kind. He has organized the sensuous elements of nature so as to obtain an effect that is exactly the opposite of the more subtle and more static productions of the great Oriental artists who have produced masterpieces in the form of screens. Mr. Ivan Narodnv analyzes Mr. Chanler’s art in the September number, and his article is accom¬ panied by five beautiful and exact color repro¬ ductions of famous Chanler screens. For several years in writing reviews of New \ ork exhibitions the present editor of Inter¬ national Studio bemoaned the fact that Ameri¬ can picture lovers had so enslaved Albert L. Groll that they kept him painting Arizona deserts to the exclusion of other and more beautiful phases of his art. Whether or not this reinforce¬ ment of the artist in his fight against trade- markism was of service, certain it is that Mr. Groll has had the temerity to execute an about- face. Under the title of “Groll Rebels Against Groll,” Will iam B. McCormick discusses in September the beauty and subtlety of the artist’s new work. Besides several black and white illus¬ trations there will be a color reproduction of “A Breezy Day — California.” Mr. Frank H. G. Keeble, who wrote the enter¬ taining article on Taoist symbolism in Chinese art in the July number, comes back with “The Buddhistic Images of China” in September. The text tells the entrancing story of Buddhist historical symbolism, and the many illustrations reveal the characteristics of the deities and heroes. There is a color reproduction of a bronze temple elephant with all his magnificent trappings. If any one were asked off-hand to classify the art of Guy Pene du Bois the chances are nine in ten that he would be lumped with Robert Henri, George Bellows, John Sloan and the others of that vigorous, semi-sociological, call-a-spade-a-spade school. Du Bois as an artist is just as unsparing as Sloan, almost as viciously satirical as Forain. And yet in the September installment of his “Art by the Way” he writes of “The Passing of Republican Painting” with especial reference to the work of Henri, Bellows and Sloan. Many readers who will disagree with him will be stimulated just the same. And to prove that the editor wasn’t committed, it may be added that International Studio has projected, later on, articles that will do justice to the art of the three men whom Mr. du Bois so tantalizingly pillories. jour Jifty-two AUGUST 1922 AUGUST 1922 International Studio STUDIOS OF FAMOUS ARTISTS No. 15. The above photograph shows the studio of Arvid Nyholm of Chicago “He struck forth his will upon the canvas as easily as the wind strikes it on the sea.” So has Reynolds been described. Yet even he, master though he was, neglected to take precaution against impure pigments and oils. Deep cracks and perishing color now mar many of Reynold’s works. Surely the choice of trustworthy color is a duty upon which ar¬ tists cannot lay too much stress. Artists w-ho use Devoe Colors can put implicit trust in their resistance to change. In the plants of this com- pany, the use of pure materials is an inviolable tradition. The technical perfection of Devoe Colors is vouched tor by 168 years of paint manufac¬ turing experience. DEVOE ARTISTS’ MATERIALS Manufactured by Devoe & Raynolds Co., Inc. New York Chicago International Studio august 1922 REGULAR and SUMMER CLASSES The PENNSYLVANIA ACADEMY of the - FINE ARTS The Oldest ■ — Art School SUMMER SCHOOL i in America at Chester Springs Chester County, Pa. INSTRUCTORS: PAINTING: Daniel Garber, George Oberteuffer, Fred Wagner ILLUSTRATION: George Harding SCULPTURE: Albert Laessle Open air instruction. Drawing, Painting, Illustration, Sculpture (modelling from farm animals). High, rolling land. Beautiful and historic scenery. Tennis courts, swimming pool, croquet grounds, etc. Board (including tuition), $15.00 per week and upwards. Open now. No student will be accepted for less than two weeks. Limited student list. Send for circular. Reference required. Resident Manager , D. ROY MILLER, Box C, Chester Springs* Chester County, Pa. Yale School of the Fine Arts YALE UNIVERSITY, NEW HAVEN, CONN. DEPARTMENTS of DRAWING and PAINTING SCULPTURE, ARCHITECTURE Classes in Composition, Anatomy and Perspective LECTURES ON THE HISTORY OF ART The Degree of Bachelor of Fine Arts (B.F.A.) is awarded for advanced work of distinction. The Winchester Fellowship for one year’s study of art in Europe, the English Scholarship for the study of art and travel in Europe during the summer vacation, and School Scholarships are awarded annually. Illustrated catalogue. G. H. LANGZETTEL, Secretary ART ACADEMY of CINCINNATI Thisschool was founded in 1869 and has a long list of pupils who have won distinction as painters, sculp¬ tors, draughtsmen, and designers in all branches of the arts. Its courses of instruction are thorough and give full opportunity for profes¬ sional training under a faculty of capable and experienced artists. By reason of its endowment, the tuition fee is moderate. 55th year Sept. 25, 1922, to May 30, 1923 For Catalogue address J. H. GEST, Director , Eden Park Cincinnati Study Interior Decoration At Home Complete instructions by correspon- | dence in period styles, color harmony, composition, etc. Amateur and pro¬ fessional courses. Start any time. Send for catalog: S. The New York School of Interior Decoration 1 01 Park Ave., New York City THE ART STUDENTS’ LEAGUE OF NEW YORK Regular Winter Classes — Jf7ih Year Classes in Life Drawing and Painting, Portrait, Still Life, Illustration and Composition, Antique, Modeling (Portrait and Figure) . Xew School of Graphic Arts under direction of Joseph Pennell and Fred W. Goudy. Catalog. Address: Box S. 215 West 57th Street, Xew York Philadelphia School of Design for Women Has trained women in all branches of Art and Design for 78 years Specialized instruction by experts in Industrial Design, Commer¬ cial Advertising, Illustration, Costume Design and Illustra¬ tion, Interior Decoration, Garden Architectural Design, Painting, Drawing, Modeling, etc. Normal Art Course DAY, EVENING AND SATURDAY CLASSES Catalogue on request HARRIET SARTAIN, Dean, Broad and Master Streets, Philadelphia BOSTON, MASS. 47th year begins Oct. 2 School of the Museum of Fine Arts Instructors: Drawing and Painting — Philip L. Hale, F. A. Bosley, W. James, L. P. Thompson, A. K. Cross; Modeling — Charles Grafly, F. W. Allen; Design — Henry Hunt Clark, A. J. Morse, G. J. Hunt; Scholarships and Traveling Scholar¬ ships. For circular address — A. F. Brooks, Mgr. MAURICE STERNE CLASS IN Painting, Drawing, and Composition ROME. ITALY For further particulars apply to BOURGEOIS GALLERIES 668 Fifth Avenue, New York The SCHOOL of INDUSTRIAL ARTS TRENTON, NEW JERSEY Frank Forrest Frederick, Director Courses, leading to Diploma awarded under the authority of the State of New Jersey, including a course for the training of the ARTIST- ARTISAN In Clay, Wood or Metal Over a thousand students. Send for illustrated circular SCHOOL OF FINE ARTS AND CRAFTS INC. Now established in its own building, offers new and unusual advantages for the study of the Arts. For circular address 349 Newbury Street, Room 417, Boston, Mass. METROPOLITAN ART SCHOOL 58 West 57th Street, New York ==SUMMER CLASSES= at East Gloucester, Massachusetts In Michel Jacobs’ Color System, Landscape and Figure. July i to August 15. Application should be made immediately at the New York address . [ X ] AUGUST 1922 International Studio IF YOU desire authoritative, in¬ ternational, professional train¬ ing in Interior Architecture and Decoration, Stage Design, Landscape Architecture, Cos¬ tume Design, Poster and Illus¬ trative Advertising, etc. — the NEW YORK SCHOOL OF FINE AND APPLIED ART Frank Alvah Parsons, Pres., New York and Paris William M. Odom, Director Paris School Requests correspondence Prospectus Address Sec’y. 2239 Broadway NEW YORK St. Louis School of Fine Arts Courses in Drawing, Painting, Modeling, Commercial Art, Interior Decoration, Crafts, etc. For catalogue, apply to E. H. WUERPEL, Director WASHINGTON UNIVERSITY, St. Louis OTIS ART INSTITUTE of the Los Angeles Museum of History, Science and Art 2401 Wilshire Blvd., Los Angeles, Cal. A SCHOOL OF FINE ARTS, CRAFTS, AND DECORATIVE DESIGN Fall Term Opens September 25 Write for prospectus to E. ROSCOE SHRADER, Managing Director THE SAN DIEGO ACADEMY OF FINE ARTS In Balboa Park, San Diego, California CLASSES: Life Drawing and Painting; Ad¬ vertising Art; Design: Illustration; Stagecraft; Interior Decoration. A complete, thorough school of art in an artists* Paradise; where out¬ door landscape classes work the year round; where earnest enthusiasm is dominant. EUGENE DeVOL, Director ffgH 7 CAUF0RT11A SCHOOL °/ARI5 and CRAFTS «S 2H9ALLSTOJ1 WAY BERKELEY, CALirORfllA THE INDUSTRIAL ART SCHOOL OF THE PACIFIC COAST EALL, SPRING AMD SUTTTTER SESSIONS WRITE. f OR ILLUSTRATED CATALOGUE j FALL TERM NOW IN SESSION COMICS CARTOONS COMMERCIAL NEWSPAPER AND MAGAZINE ILLUSTRATING FASHION PASTEL AND CRAYON PORTRAITS BY MAIL OR LOCAL CLASSES. Write lor par¬ ticulars of successful pupils. Associated Art Studios B 25 Flatiron Building, New York,N. Y. For O / — HOUSE with LARGE STUDIO Grounds 75 x 185 feet — all improvements — shade trees STUDIO 25 x 25 feet Owner going west 127 Christie St., Leonia, N. J. Tel. 384-M LIFE STUDIES from the nude Beautiful sepia prints, size 7x9, on mountings 11 x 14. We publish over 250 subjects for use b> art students, sculptors, architects, illustrators, designers and photographers. Twelve prints sent for S9.00. Six prints sent for S5.00. Three prints sent for S2. 50. Single prints SI. 25. Sample sheet of miniature subjects sent for 25c in coin or stamps, to be credited on first order. CONSOLIDATED MFG. CO. 32 Union Square Dept. 608 New York City WHY DO ART EDITORS AND PHOTO-ENGRAVERS PREFER STRATHMORE? IT’S because they know that the surface of Strathmore Papers takes every detail of pen, pencil or brush. And when the line cut or halftone is made, the technique and character of the drawing is retained. STRATHMORE ARTISTS' PAPERS «i BOARDS - — are chemically pure. Bumps, mottles, oil spots and hairs simply do not exist in Strathmore. Look for the Strathmore thistle on every sheet. It’s a guarantee of satisfaction. Send for free samples. STRATHMORE PAPER COMPANY Mittineague, Mass., U. S. A. Look for the Strathmore SMark — the thistle — stamped on every sheet Rembrandt Colo rs MADE IN HOLLAND Pure-Brilliant-Permanent TALENS 6C SON, Apeldoom, Holland American Office, Irvington, N J. International Studio august 1922 “ Any Sketch Looks Better on Whatman ” V/'OU don’t hesitate to put a little more time into your work, when by so doing you can improve it. That time is worth enormously more than the difference between the cost of a cheap drawing paper and WHATMAN. Water color, pen-and-ink or pencil, the proper surface of WHATMAN enhances the beauty of every medium. Its use is a delight and in the aggregate, an economy as well. eU WfflATMAW Genuine Hand-made DRAWING PAPERS =nfr Send for handy sample book of sizes, surfaces and weights — free to artists, architects and engineers H. REEVE ANGEL & CO. Incorporated -11 Spruce Street New York City NEW ETCHING by ZELLA de MILHAU “ Bird House, Southampton” Size 7x6 inches Edition Limited to Fifty Proofs <§> M. Knoedler & Co. 556 Fifth Ave., N. Y. If You Want Permanent and Brilliant Artistic Effects •' Insist on Having WINSOR 8c NEWTON’S OIL and WAT E R C O L O U R S Everything Jor the Artist Ask Your Dealer or Write Jor Catalog IN-8 INC. 31 EASTl7"St YORK, N.Y. MARTINI TEMPERA COLORS _ PAINTING m — OUTDOORS ■V. IS MOST EASILY ACCOM¬ PLISHED IN THIS MEDIUM. AS WATER IS THE DILUENT AND CLEANSING AGENT— YOUR PALETTE AND BRUSHES ARE ALWAYS READY FOR THE NEXT SKETCH— YOUR PANELS DRY QUICKLY. MAKING THEM EASY TO CARRY B ^SOLEUS-DISTRIBUTORSp g m FAVORRUHL ©COMPANY ■ B NtW YORK’BOSTON: CHICAGO E I RICHTER MFG. CO. MANUFACTURERS AND IMPORTERS Decorative Burlaps, Draperies for Walls, etc. Superior grade of Artists’ Canvases in all widths up to 24 feet. I3I*I33 East 23d Street, New York Main Office and Works TENAFLY, N. J. Photo Gravure, Zinc and Copper Plates For Etching, Dry Point, Soft Ground, Aquatint and Mezzotint, Stipple and Line Engraving. Sizes in Stock 2K x 3K" 3x4" 4 x 5" 5 x 6" 5 x 7 " 6x7" 6x8" 7 x 10" 8 x 10 " 8x12" 10 x 12" Odd sizes made up on orders. Write us for prices, or telephone Beekman 3748 Star Engravers’SuppIy Co.,61 BeekmanSt., N. Y. ^ Alta. Art Studies ^-"NUDES FOR- THE USE OF ARTISTS SCULPTORS and STUDENTS REPLACING LIVING MODELS IN THE STUDIOS OF AMERICA'S FOREMOST ARTISTS BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOS, 8x10 inches, front sharply focused, original plates, on the best grade of double weight photo paper. PRICES, including shipment, 5 for $2.50, 10 for $4.50, 20 for $7.50. Miniature samples sent Jor 25c. same to be applied on initial order A.LTA STUDIOS IES JDcpt. E 111 Golden Gate Ave. San Francisco l&P-mr BRUSHES J. BLOCKX OIL AND WATER COLORS The finest in the world and ARTISTS’ CANVAS, linen, 17 inches to 14 feet wide. Write jor Lists SCHNEIDER 8C COMPANY, Inc., 2102 Broadway, New York City SOLE AGENTS [ xii ] M. KNOEDLER & CO. PAINTINGS by OLD and MODERN MASTERS <§> OLD ENGLISH MEZZOTINTS AND SPORTING PRINTS OLD AND MODERN ETCHINGS and ENGRAVINGS Class Restoring and Framing PARIS 17 Place Vendome 556 FIFTH AVENUE NEW YORK LONDON 15 Old Bond Street DEMOTTE Works of Art of the Middle Ages De Luxe Art Publications in Limited Editions La Tapisserie Gothique Le Musee du Louvre: 19 14-1920 Les Chefs-D’Oeuvre du Portugal Les Dessins de Degas Etc. 27 rue de Berri 8 East 57th Street Paris New York ROBERT -l/STILLSON COMPANY* NEW YORK PORTRAIT OF A WOMAN - BY VIGEE LE BRUN September 1922 mteRnATtOHAL StUDIO inc 75 Cents new x^ork u‘ MACBETH GALLERY -ESTABLISHED I 8 9 2- 16 x 24 A. H. WYANT, N. A. PAINTINGS by AMERICAN ARTISTS The Gallery’s publication, ART NOTES*, ready October ist, with announcement of our important exhibitions for the coming season, will be mailed free on request Two doors south of the Public Library Fifth Avenue Buses pass the door * Title Registered WILLIAM MACBETH INC. 450 FIFTH AVENUE at Fortieth Street NEW YORK CITY SEPTEMBER I 922 International Studio AINSLIE AMERICAN PAINTINGS GALLERIES Established 1885 677 FIFTH AVENUE : NEW YORK Registered at United States Patent Office Copyright, 1922, by International Studio , Inc. Entered as second-class matter, March 1, 1897, at the Post Office at New York, N. Y under the Act of March 5, 1879 SEPTEMBER 19 2 2 <§> VOLUME LXXV NUMBER 304 MONTHLY 75 c A COPY $6.00 A YEAR Canadian Postage 60 cents Foreign Postage $1.00 <§> - President - PEYTON BOSWELL Treasurer • S W * FRANKEL Secretary - C * A ■ BENSON Editor • PEYTON BOSWELL Assistant Editor • W • B • McCORMICK <§> ARTICLES THIS NUMBER PAGE Tokio’s Occidental Museum . Mrs. Gordon-Stables . . . 453 Color plate and twenty-nine illustrations The King-Moth: Verse . John Russell Hayes .... 468 Earliest Hawthorne Portrait . 469 One illustration Chanler’s Dynamic Symbolism . Ivan Narodny . 470 Five color plates and five illustrations Cruising with Ship Models . William B. M’Cormick . . . 486 Fifteen illustrations Groll Rebels against Groll . William B. M’Cormick . . . 496 Color plate and six illustrations A Gothic Doorway for a Gothic Room . 502 One illustration Museum Gets an ‘Archaic Smile” . 503 One illustration The Garden of Figureheads .... Seven illustrations De Maeztu — Spanish Basque .... Seven illustrations Buddhistic Images of China .... Color plate and fifteen illustrations The Treasure of St. Quentin . . . Six illustrations A Sculptor in Wood . Seven illustrations Art by the Way . The Cover by Mme. Vigee-Le Brun One illustration Pittsburgh Weds Art to Gardening Three illustrations It’s Now the Potter’s Turn Twenty-three illustrations An Illumination of the Year 1265 One illustration “Studio Talk” . Mary Harrod Northend . 504 Philip Sawyer . 509 Frank H. G. Keebi.e .... 514 Helen W. Henderson . . . 522 Sheldon Cheney . 529 Guy Pene du Bois ..... 534 . 537 . 538 Lilian Hall Crowley . . . 539 . 547 The Editor . 548 TO CONTRIBUTORS Articles are solicited b j, the editor on subjects that are interesting and significant in all branches of the fine and applied arts. No responsibility is assumed for the safe custody or return of manuscripts , but due care will be exercised. PUBLISHED MONTHLY BY INTERNATIONAL STUDIO, Inc. 786 SIXTH AVENUE - - - NEW YORK LONDON : 17 Old Burlington Street PARIS : 26 Rue Jacob SEPTEMBER I Q 2 2 International Studio Tlx miLCH GALLERIES 108 WEST 57th STREET NEW YORK CITY dealers in AMERICAN PAINTINGS AND SCULPTURE EXHIBITIONS w throughout the seasons “Winter — Vermont" by Willard L. Metcalf John Levy Galleries paintings cTncient and Modern NEW YORK 559 FIFTH AVENUE PARIS 28 PLACE VENDOME [ iii ] International Studio SEPTEMBER I 9 2 2 “Winter Quiet” by John F. Folinsbee FERARGIL GALLERIES 607 Fifth Avenue : at Forty-ninth Street : NEW YORK AMERICAN PAINTINGS and SCULPTURE cPo rtraits cPastelles drawings cTrthur Tooth dc Sons, Ltd. F.ST A RI.lSHKn 1842- - - High Class Paintings NEW YORK : 709 FIFTH AVENUE LONDON : 155 NEW BOND STREET [ iv ] SEPTEMBER I g 2 2 International Studio [ v 1 International Studio SEPTEMBER I 9 2 2 HOWARD YOUNG GALLERIES FIFTH AVENUE : NEW YORK BARBIZON PAINTINGS ENGLISH PORTRAITS IMPORTANT PAINTINGS by AMERICAN and FOREIGN MASTERS [ vi ] SEPTEMBER I 922 International Studio PAINTINGS : RARE ETCHINGS LITHOGRAPHS : BRONZES by MODERN MASTERS of AMERICAN AND EUROPEAN ART on ■view at the Paintings by Luks Courbet Daumier Ryder Tack Carriere Sisley Myers Beal T oulouse - Lautrec Fantin Halpert du Bois ZuLOAGA Forain Prendergast Sloan Decamps Puvis DE ChAVANNES C. W. KRAUSHAAR ART GALLERIES 680 FIFTH AVENUE : NEW YORK Charles of London INTERIORS Old English Furniture TAPESTRIES TWO WEST FIFTY-SIXTH STREET : NEW YORK LONDON : 27-29 BROOK STREET, W. [ vii 1 International Studio SEPTEMBER I 9 2 2 DUVEEN BROTHERS PAINTINGS PORCELAINS TAPESTRIES O BJETS d’ART PARIS NEW YORK THE CARAVAN ” h Frank TvangWyn Purchased by Mr. Matsukata Jor his Museum of Occidental Art in Tokio TOKIO’S Occidental TvlUSEUM ot alone is truth frequently stranger than fiction, but it wears moreover such an air of improbability that the ingenious-minded are often hard put to it to weave some fictitious explanation of its phenomena. Especially arresting is this diffidence in accepting the simple truth on its own incredible merits, when it happens that the occidental mentality is confronted with some psychological emanation from that of the Orient. For “East is East and West is West, and never the twain shall meet.” Hence it arrives that the west¬ ern world, confounded by the un¬ precedented scale on which Mr. Kojiro Matsukata has both planned and equipped the unique Museum, of which Mr. Frank Brangwyn, Eng¬ land’s master-draftsman at the present day, is the de¬ signer, has variously ex¬ plained away the munificence of the wealthy Japanese shipbuilder as owing its origin to govern¬ mental propaganda and, on the other hand, as having its source in some subtle industrial organ¬ ization intended, for commercial purposes, to familiarize the Japanese nation with the arts, crafts and methods of Europe and America. This profound misconception, (for it may as well be freely recognized at the outset that the Matsukata Museum, The plans for Matsukata' s great re post tori/ for Western art are the work of Frank Brangwyn * * * by Mrs. gORDON - STABLES THE MASSIVE SHADOWS OF THE MAIN ENTRANCE PORTICO ( Drawn by Frank Brangwyn ) SEPTEMBER I 9 2 2 four fifty -five mreRHACionAL BIKDS-EYE VIEW OF THE ENTIRE LAYOUT OF THE MUSEUM ( Drawn by Frank Brangwyn) now rearing its walls upon the plateau that over¬ looks the city and the bay of Tokio, is entirely what it purports to be — the open gift of an en¬ lightened, progressive and public-spirited citizen), has its root in a fundamental divergence between the outlook of a millionaire of the Orient and that of a millionaire of the Occident. For when the latter, through the chances of war, becomes the holder of vast finances, there he before him a whole host of ac¬ credited ways in which his re¬ sources may be expended. It will be a matter of wonder if he does not apply himself to the acqui¬ sition of extensive and entirely unnecessary estates, if he does not over-bejewel his wife and daughters, over-entertain his friends and ac¬ quaintances, acquire vast quantities of superflu¬ ous possessions, and generally so complicate existence as to leave for altruistic purposes but a negligible margin. But when the millionaire happens to hail from Japan, the land wherein he who LOGGIA FROM WHICH IS VISIBLE A VIEW OF THE SACRED FUJIYAMA ( Drawn by Frank Brangwyn ) four fifty-six SEPTEMBER I Q 2 2 mceRHACionAL has the fewest needs is deemed the happiest, and both wisdom and beauty are believed to reside in that instinct for simplicity which is one of the most deep-seated of the national characteristics, such directions for the application of his resources are apt to leave him unmoved. The simple life, as traditionally understood in Japan, is sufficiently idyllic to inspire in the cultured but small desire to exchange it. Hence I believe I am justified in asserting that Mr. Matsukata himself does not feel conscious of any extraordinary magnanimity in bestowing on Tokio a museum conceived on a scale of magni¬ tude never yet attempted. It probably seems to him merely the obvious and the logical means of disposing of wealth, which if put to personal, rather than to public ends, would bring him but problematical bene¬ fit. The idea did not, like Athena from the brow of Zeus, spring to life from the brain of its creator, fully armed. Rather was its evolu¬ tion a gradual growth, gaining stability and THE ENTRANCE FOYER WITH BLUE AND GOLD MOSAIC CEILING AND STAINED GLASS WINDOWS DESIGNED BY FRANK BRANGWYN ( Drawn by Frank Brangwyn) character as it grew, and acquir¬ ing steadily that unity and com¬ pleteness which are inclined to develop most consistently when an enterprise is the product of a single mentality, as opposed to that which is a matter of boards, committees and joint control. So far from being in any way connected with the Japanese government, the terms of Mr. Matsukata’s gift to the nation carefully preclude all possibility of its becoming a state-directed concern. On the contrary, it has been bestowed for, rather than on, the people, the conti ol being kept in the hands of the Mat¬ sukata family and its descendants, by whom its affairs will be administered in behalf of the nation. When one considers the unfortunate frequency with which commissions for public buildings are placed in unsuitable quarters, one recognizes the soundness of per¬ ception that has led this modern Maecenas to enlist as architect an artist such as Frank Brangwyn, who not alone realizes to the full the housing conditions demanded by works of art, but who, by reason of his never-failing fer¬ tility of design and Iree- dom from the trammels of convention, is quali¬ fied to give expression THE CENTRAL COURTYARD, WITH STONE-PAVED CLOISTERS (Drawn by Frank Brangwyn ) SEPTEMBER I 9 2 2 Jour fifty-seven inceRnACionAL MM® to his ideas in a way which is destined to render the Tokio Museum a model to the whole world of what such an edifice should rightly be. Many considerations in addition to that of erecting a suitable museum for the display of pictures, sculpture and other objects of art have been duly weighed and recognized, and many an artistic pitfall observed and avoided ere the final plans left Mr. Brangwyn’s hands. In the first instance it would have been the direst error on the part of an European artist to have designed for the East a building obviously bearing the imprint of foreign traditions, or by its aggressiveness or pomposity striking a note out of harmony with its surroundings. It is the greatest tribute to Mr. Brangwyn’s skill and judgment that the Museum is acknowledged by Japanese experts and critics to “look right” in the Orient. This somewhat difficult end has been achieved in the first instance by the meticu¬ lous care with which its designer has avoided the cult of any rigid style. The building is neither in strictly clas¬ sic nor in Gothic man¬ ner. In so far as it per¬ mits itself to be classi¬ fied under any heading it belongs rather to the Romanesque, and since the Romanesque owed its ultimate origin to the East, the wisdom of this choice is obvious. It has been treated throughout as such a building should be treated, that is to say, as a background to the works of art for whose sake it has been erected, and as an accompaniment to the natural surroundings in the midst of which it is placed. Nowhere, whether within or with¬ out, does its architecture or ornament clash with the exhibits, nowhere has full advantage not been taken of the richness and beauty of the natural surroundings. Indeed, in a number of instances, the plans have been definitely drawn up in such a way as to avoid the necessity for uprooting trees or sacrificing the luxuriant vegetation which dis¬ tinguishes the hillside. Even the aid of the sacred mountain of Fujiyama has been enlisted to enhance the beauty of the building, for in the courtyard a pond has been specially sunk so that the reflection of the snowcapped mount may be displayed in the mirror of its waters. The accompanying architectural studies by Mr. Brangwyn must not be regarded as hav¬ ing been made from the completed buildings, which, as already im¬ plied, are still in course A SIMPLY DESIGNED TEAK- WOOD CEILING AND GRAY WALLS CREATE A RESTFUL GALLERY ( Drawn by Frank Brangwyn) THE JAPANESE COURT BETWEEN THE MAIN BUILDING AND THE ANNEX ( Drawn by Frank Brangwyn) jour Jijty-eight SEPTEMBER 9 2 2 mceRHACionAL szmm of construction. They have been carried out in order to make it possible, to some ex¬ tent, mentally to vis¬ ualize the Museum as its artist designs it eventually to be. In order the better to develop the picture, the buildings must be imagined as com¬ manding from their hilltop site a compre¬ hensive view of mountain scenery, blue bay, city and verdant plains. The dominant characteristic of the edifice is a splen¬ did simplicity. Both beauty and dignity have been achieved by means of fine proportions, good perspective, well balanced sunshine and shadow. Harmony has been attained by the retention of the natural features of the ground, and sympathetic adaptation to the inherent qualities of the scenery. The material employed consists of brick of both Japanese and Chinese manufacture, of a warm, drab tone, slightly ruddier than that typical of London architecture. The roof is covered with the coarse, but extremely effective, roof-tiles proper to Japan, their thick pipelike ridges forming an important feature. Here and there the bricks have been worked into a slight, decorative patterning, while mosaics of black and white have likewise been sparsely introduced. To quote Mr. Brangwyn himself, “there are no frills to the architecture.” The requisite variety has been achieved not so much by ornament, as by means of fine splashes of shade provided by well- proportioned arches, the noble sweep of flights of steps, the grace of ter¬ races, the setting of statuary among the fo¬ liage of trees, and the retention of the land¬ scape features. The illustration of the general lay-out shows at a glance the masterly fashion in which the whole has been planned with a view to the perfect fulfilment of the Mu¬ seum’s purpose. The main building is com¬ posed of four great gal¬ leries built in quad¬ SCULPTURE BY CLADEL rangle form round a central court, surrounded by clois¬ ters, through which access is readily gained to the galleries. And herein enters the psychologi¬ cal aspect of the archi¬ tect’s plan. For since the militating factor against the develop¬ ment of the “museum habit” is the rapidity with which the aver¬ age visitor becomes mentally sated and physically exhausted by concentration on that which rightly should delight and refresh, there has been pro¬ vided, in order to obviate this contingency, an amplitude of opportunity for mental and bodily refreshment in the cool courtyards that surround the building on all sides. Here amid the sound of splashing fountains and the shade of trees one finds seats placed in company with fine statuary and lovely flowers. The main building is connected by means of a paved court, flanked by sunken gardens, with the Annex, in which will be housed furniture, pottery, tapestries and applied arts of various types. Here, too, will be found the Library of Fine Art, which will be one of, if not the most, comprehensive in the world. A portion of the building will be devoted to the purposes of a guest house, which with its fittings and lurniture, likewise from the designs of Frank Brangwyn, will have a character in keeping with the whole. The Japanese courtyard, with its wall-fountain and many features of artistic interest, boasts a loggia specially designed to afford a site whence one may enjoy a view of Fuji¬ yama with the city of Tokio spread at its foot. All that is possi¬ ble has been devised to enable the visitor to enjoy in combination the contemplation of the sublime in nature with that of the sub¬ lime in art. A suggestion of what the entrance hall will be is furnished in the sketch illustrated. A MEMORIAL SCULPTURE GROUP BY BISTOLFI SEPTEMBER 192 2 four f ij ty -nine mceRnACionAL Some little imagination must naturally THE WALL be reflected the glory of the ceiling. II I I • 1 ... BY FRANK BRANGWYN rr be brought to bear in order to visualize I he walls are lighted by means ol tour its ensemble. The mosaic ceiling is patterned in great stained-glass windows nobly designed by arabesques ot blue and gold, the marble fountain Mr. Brangwyn in illustration of forms of great is in shell form placed on a square base, its border modern industries such as boilermaking, bridge being ol blue, its tiles of buff. 1 its waters will and Iocomotivi construction, electrical enterprise, and so on. Mr. Brangwyn’s forcelul interpretation of such themes is too widely recognized to make it necessary to labor the point here. He is perhaps seen to his best when engaged on such subjects, his mastery of the human form and his unrivalled skill in the management of a number of figures in vigorous action producing an extraor¬ dinary impressiveness. The walls ol the interior have been kept a soft, striped gray, selected as being calculated not to clash in any way with the exhibits, and are very quiet, very restful, very unobtrusive. The “evening — morocco” BY FRANK BRANGWYN Jour sixty SEPTEMBER I 9 2 2 mceRnACionAL roofs are of teak, the rooms being lighted from the top in a way capable of being regulated in this respect according to the weather and the time of year. The panels at the base of the walls are of wood of extremely simple form, while the pedestals and seats placed in the center of the galleries are of paneled teak. Pic¬ tures and sculpture will be shown in company, the senseless fashion of divorcing the two finding no favor here. Thus the one will, as it were, minister to the other and that dead, inhuman quality which as a rule character¬ izes a sculpture room will be avoided. Certain spaces have been reserved for mural decora¬ tions, Mr. Brang¬ wyn having it in his mind, when de¬ signing them, that they might form the means of permitting some of the younger men later to show their mettle. It is, however, Mr. Mat- sukata’s desire that Mr. Brangwyn should himself visit Tokio to embellish these wall-spaces with some of his impressive compositions, and it is possible that, health per¬ mitting, the journey may be made, at some future date. It would be fitting that a building which is the expression of the artistic creed of the great designer should boast mural decorations also from his hand. So much for the building itself. To give but the most cursory of reviews to its contents would require not a single, but several articles, since these can, with¬ out exaggeration, be said to cover each every school ol occidental art and many of the previous schools. No other collection in the world has been planned on so com- ve a scale, with so little ‘still life” BY FRANK BRANGWYN PRISON - T ANGLERS BY FRANK BRANGWYN SEPTEMBER I Q 2 2 four sixty-one mceRnAcionAL prejudice or predilection. It would be ^ a matter of impossibility to mention any Western artist of consequence, whatev nationality, who is missing from it. Even artists, examples of whose work are the difficult to obtain, have, through influence, been included, sometimes not by one, but by a number of canvases. As an in¬ stance of such masters, mention may be made of Puvis de Chavannes, Boecklin and Segantini, all of whom are splendidly represented. And where else can one locate twenty- five to thirty Gauguins, fifteen to twenty Matisses, twenty-five Maurice Denys and forty Rodins? There is more than a hint of vulgarity in insisting on mere numbers in such a A SCOTTISH DAME BY JOSEF ISRAELS le famille connection, as though one were weigh- EUGENE LAERMANS . . . i r ing up pounds of tea or dozens of er his cheeses. But since Mr. Matsukata, true to the those traditions of his country, will, in this Museum, most have but a selection of its contents displayed at a time, and frequent va¬ riety effected, this wealth of examples is of supreme importance. It is a proof of the founder’s artistic perspica¬ city that he has secured from Frank Brangwyn himself between fifty and sixty oils and water colors. These, as will be seen from the illustrations, are of a number of characteristic types. There is “The Caravan,” illustrated here in color, a fine, forceful piece of work, strong in tone, skilful in draftsman¬ ship and giving very un¬ affectedly and simply the domestic feeling of the Jour sixty -two SEPTEMBER I 9 2 2 inceRnAcionAL CENTAUR by [ 'Bourdelle SEPTEMBER 9 2 2 four sixty-tbree mreRnACionAL NUDE BY MANCINI homely scene. Even the olcl horse seems to enter into its spirit. This is no mere assemblage of details but a family group treated with rare unity and consistency. The domestic touch, though of a slightly different kind, is por¬ trayed in the “Still Life,” wherein a couple of pink pigs heads are brilliantly pie- “watering horses sented in company with a bowl of by segantini glowing copper, onions, lemons and white cloths. There is humor in this composi¬ tion, combined with the loving spirit of the old Dutch painters when they depicted the various factors that go to the making of a meal. That pink flesh, one easily recognizes, has been painted with a very real affection, not for the pork, so much as for the painting! jour sixty-jour SEPTEMBER I 9 2 2 mreRHACionAL miss w a portrait Two twilight scenes are j. sorolla revealed, the “Moroccan Garden” with its tender, blue-gray light illuminating the roses and the seated women, and the “Walls of Avignon” with its trees bathed in the rich gold and blue of the setting sun. More lurid is the grim “Interior of the Prison, Tangiers,” in which the strong blood- red tint of the alcoves contrasts significantly with the whitewash of the walls. Something of the stench and hideousness of. the original has been brought into the canvas, a powerful, direct transcript of an Afri¬ can horror hole. Here, as in all Brangwyn’s painting, is clean brush work, grip of the es¬ sentials of the theme, effective grouping. Dotted about the gardens and court¬ yards and in the cor¬ ners of the entrance hall will be groups of statuary by Bistolfi, dubbed the “Italian Rodin,” whose “Grief Comforted by Mem¬ ory” and “Memorial Sculpture,” are in the collection, and of whose work the Mu¬ seum contains as many as twenty speci- mens. Storm and struggle, emotion and a divine unrest ema¬ nate from his marbles. His figures are poig¬ nant with human tra¬ gedy, but there is no sickh- copper basin and ... . , . GREEN EARTHEN POT ness in his sentiment. 1 he By a. vollon Centaur” by Bourdelle and the “Reclining Woman” by the Belgian sculptor, Cladel, speak for themselves in their strength and fine elimination of all but the essential. It is little short of miraculous that Mr. Matsukata should so unerringly have placed him¬ self in touch with all that is really “worth while” in the different countries he visited. His choice among the Belgian painters of “Le Famille” by Eugene Laermans, with whom I fear too many English and American art lovers are still un¬ acquainted, is an in¬ stance of his flair for the acquisition of the art that matters. One does not readily ex¬ haust the qualities of a work of this calibre with its individual at¬ mosphere, its infinite suggestion and its pro¬ found humanity. Segantini is not an easy painter to meet with outside of public collections, yet Mr. Matsukata has been enabled to secure two very fine examples of his work, each of which conveys to a nicety the aura of its own particular scene. “Sheep-shearing” is a complete version of a PORTRAIT OF COVENTRY PATMORE JOHN S. SARGENT, R.A. SEPTEMBER 9 2 2 Jour sixty-jive mreRHACionAL “SORROW - THE DROWNED FISHERMAN” BY CHARLES COTTET “le grand pere” BY J. F. RAFFAELLI Cjroup of intincjs for ^VCr. iVCatsukatcL s ' fVCuseum Jour sixty-six SEPTEMBER I 9 2 2 mceRnAcioriAL beppino rustic incident; “Watering BY CAROLUS DURAN . . . 0 Horses, is equally satisfying and finished. Mancini is represented by no less than twenty examples, of which we are privileged to furnish two illustrations; Josef Israels, among others, by “A Scottish Dame,” which shows him in a less sentimental and more sternly actual mood than that to which we are accustomed in him. Similarly the “Beppino” of Carolus Duran is an unusual work. It is interest¬ ing to turn from painting of this character to the dreaminess, the spirit-suggestion of Carriere, whose “Femme Lisant” is herewith illus¬ trated. It is one of Mr. Matsu- kata’s triumphs that he should have succeeded in obtaining John Singer Sargent’s “Por¬ trait of Coven¬ try Patmore,” for I believe myself justified in claiming that the artist concurs in a very general opinion that this is among A SPANISH LANDSCAPE BY JOHN S. SARGENT, R.A. his most brilliant por- femme lisant^ BY EUGENE CARRIERE trait work. Swift, sure, sound, it says what has to be said, indicates what has to be indicated, without faltering or hesitation. Representative of Sargent’s landscape work is his “Spanish Landscape,” very full of the sunlight of the South. But these are mere indications of single exhibits in a vast whole. Drawings and etchings have remained unmentioned, as have textiles and metalwork. That the establishment of a museum of so extensive a scope cannot fail to exercise far reaching effects is beyond discussion. The right influences have been brought to bear on it, and the collection is both so fittingly housed and so well selected that it will always be of importance and significance. It has touched the human note, both in its ar¬ rangement and its choice; it is vital, it will endure. SEPTEMBER 19 2 2 four sixty-seven mceRnAcionAL The KINCJ-MOTH (At an Address by Wiolet Oakley ) By JOHN "RUSSELL HAYES 07* Qj HAT happened while she held us in her spell? VV A thing most light but lovely ; — let me tell. A great and lordly king-moth floated in And settled on the sumptuous peonies there, A splendid creature radiant and fair, Clouded with gorgeous dyes, Shadowed and ringed With Velvety eyes, — As d.Were a spirit from some finer air; In silvery silent peace he came, A thing of color and of flame. HoVering and musing in the fragrant room Where sweet dream-thoughts found bloom, HoW richly did he blend With that high hour, Hilling for us the picture in our hearts, Bright as a jewel, perfect as a flower! Jour sixty-eight SEPTEMBER I 9 2 2 inceRHACionAL SOToa© f Earliest Hawtkorne rortuait * 'NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE at the ACjE of 31 By Henvy Inman This portrait of Nathaniel Hawthorne, painted by Henry Inman, presumably in Boston in 1835, represents the author and one-time Surveyor of Customs at Salem, Massachusetts, at an age five years younger than any hitherto known likeness. In all subsequent pictures Hawthorne does not wear the mustache which here adds a touch of the romantic to his countenance. The portrait, now owned by the Essex Institute, of Salem, was painted in thin color on coarse canvas, as is shown in this reproduction SEPTEMBER IQ22 four sixty- n i ne mceRtiAcionAL :aoa® HANLERS ' Dynamic Symbolism Cl 'h e art / W i n t h r ( Robert ■op Chanler suggests more than all else a series of decora¬ tive fantasias, each of which is a complete and independent improvisation. Not satisfied with that which ordinarily meets the eye, he reaches toward the far magic of the sky, or dives into the shining depths of the sea, bring¬ ing forth fresh treasure troves of form and color. Strange beasts and fabulous birds appear at his beck and call. And one after another these gleam¬ ing aquatic monsters and gorgeous avian marvels float or fly to the surface of his creative conscious¬ ness and assume their appointed places in a given composition. It is all immensely stimulating, and typically Chanleresque.” The one outstanding feature of Chanler’s art is its primitive dynamic symbolism, which mani¬ fests itself now in the nature of designs, then again in the rich color harmony or gorgeous combina¬ tions of gold and silver backgrounds. At the first glance it shocks us with its radical rhythm and bold chromatic harmonies which form the bases of a new decorative psychology, but soon that feeling gives place to a peculiar magic that seems to grow in potentiality with every successive sight. A strange spirit seems to breathe through his variegated compositions and grotesque forms. They suggest musical even more than pictorial images. This is easily explained by the fact that Chanler considers himself a decorative artist and believes that painting’s ultimate message lies in decorative terms. All folk arts are meant to be decorative: accordingly, his best mediums of expression lie in screens, murals, panels, frescoes, and stained glass windows, as his latest New York exhibition at the Kingore Gallery demonstrated. * According to Chanler the origin of decorative art lies in the magic of the days before primitive man built a temple and created his gods. It was the idea of secrecy and spirits which inspired our barbaric ancestors to invent symbols, sacred de¬ signs, amulets, talismans, ikons and vestments for occult ceremonies. The idea of a spirit was intan¬ gible, and could not be expressed in art iculate words, therefore symbols were created. Out ot those symbols evolved the folk arts. The caves ot sor¬ cerers were the forerunners of modern art studios. We infer from our fairy tales and legends that * Philadelphia will have an opportunity to see Mr. Chanler1 s art in a comprehensive exhibition to be held at the Art Alliance in October. Hi s art, though abstract, is sensuous, and /us designs have dynamic rather than static quality • * • by [M IVAN TsfARODNY U those caves were engraved and decorated with all kinds of strange designs and col¬ ors, now imitating magic herbs, feared snakes or monsters, then again the phases of some great event or calamity oi nature. In all the secret doings and ceremonies of the ancient priests, there were cer¬ tain symbols that expressed the meaning of the mystic forces of nature. All their ceremonies were impotent without symbols. And thus the sup¬ posed potency of a symbolic design was the result of primordial thinking — in subconscious decora¬ tive terms. Since the sacred design was capable of greater spiritual meaning than human speech, the imagination of primitive man endowed it with unlimited power, and out of the all powerful magic symbols there developed gradually our modern decorative art. Chanler’s art is so interwoven with the mystic symbolism of the Egyptians and the enigmatic fantasy of the East that it is necessary to view his works in the light of outstanding ethnographic events. It is a fact that the teachings of all religions laid great stress on the importance of the proper symbol in a sacred ceremony, garment or decorative design. The magic rod of Moses, used in his miracles before Pharaoh, was crux aiisata, the crossed bodies of a man and woman, which was also used by the Egyptian priests as a magic symbol in healing the sick. The same symbol was the famous talisman of Elorus, to raise the dead. Later it became the Christian cross. Hieroglyphs, the oldest of alphabets, were in their essentials magic symbols, but became later the most essential elements in the succeeding folk arts. Chanler believes firmly if a decoration is deprived of symbolic meaning it automatically loses its intrinsic aesthetic quality. For this reason— as it is interpreted by him — the ultimate aim of decorative art is the appropriate symbol, which lends to it a lasting value and lifts it above the ordinary work of a craftsman. Chanler’s metallic underlays, overlays and reliefs in gold, silver or aluminum are executed with the idea of achieving a greater symbolic quality. Chanler’s symbolic design has to suggest some way or other the sensuous side of Nature’s soul, and the sensuous force of his own emotions. The best illustrations in this respect are his “Flame” and “Deep Sea Fantasy,” the former an elaborate decorative panel in Mrs. Gertrude Vanderbilt jour seventy SEPTEMBER 9 2 2 Portion of a Screen by cRobert Winthrop Chanter "VEEP SEA FANTASY’ Portion of cl Screen by Robert Wintkrop Chanter ” CjIRAPFES ” Portion of a Screen by ‘Robert W inthrop C hauler " SUBMARINE by ^Robert Wi nthcop Ckanlec "FLAMINGOES ” mreRDACionAL VfflVtvyiy|§g§ CATION. Cofuayning a breifedefcription oE the Sphe:ire,wich the pane* and Circles , ofibelimc .jialfolhcmakinjind vie of I sp Ccrteme nv v Errors in ^ Navigation • TStleelei pnj 1 Core eel: A By Uj: ujylt imd (undated ■ EngliOi by - •ecrfUryUble mon Naui- Many collectors of ship models also find great interest in early books on navigation MODEL OF A SPANISH GALLEON BY E. W. OTTIE CRUISING) with SHIP "MODELS Pictorial records of ships go back to Egyp¬ tian times 3,000 years before Christ, and museums now show us actual models of the Nile river craft that date almost as far back as the paintings. Affection and admiration for the vessel he constructs are inseparable traits of the shipbuilder; and these feelings are reflected in the fact that wherever water craft are built there are always models of them to be found. The people of the great maritime nations have always treasured models of their ships. And in Europe, in particular, they have preserved these models, sometimes as votive offerings in churches, some¬ times in local museums, and again in such great national collections as that of the Marine Museum in the Louvre and that of the British Admiralty. Holland used models of ships as wind-vanes on churches and state houses. A golden replica of one of these nautical wind-vanes is a striking note on the handsome office building of the Delaware and Hudson railroad in Albany, N. Y., which is a perfect reproduction of old Dutch architecture. From the earliest days, American shipbuilders kept alive this tradition Historic craft have been turned into pleasure boats for the joy of the connoisseur and collector • • • by WM. e MAEZTU f Spanish “BASQUE C~r~* o the art world of / London in 1919 there came a Basque painter named Gustavo de Maeztu who had no intro¬ duction other than his work. One of the first artists he met was John Noble, the Provineetown painter, who upon studying the canvases and drawings of the newcomer to the British capital passed the prophetic judgment, “These works are all the introduction you will need here.” The American painter-critic had sound grounds for his verdict. At that time De Maeztu was thirty-four years old, he had studied long in the schools of Paris, and he was steeped in the spirit and the atmos¬ phere of his native province in northern Spain. Only once had he given a public exhibition up to the time of his appearance in London. This was in Barcelona and, beyond local appreciation, the event made little stir; for that city is of impor¬ tance to Spain as a shipping port, and mercantile, rather than artistic, reputations, are founded there. London took De Maeztu to its bosom, in the kindly, all-embracing way it has with all foreign artists who have something to say for themselves in their native manner. And the Basque painter had much to say and he expressed it in so personal and national a style that London en¬ couraged him to the extent that he painted land¬ scapes, figure studies and portraits in sufficient number to make his work in all these genres very well known in the galleries and in private collec¬ tions. British art lovers, always devotees of that which is markedly characteristic, liked De Maeztu’s pictures because -they were thoroughly Basque in spirit. Unlike many Spanish painters who have studied in Paris, he did not become a French painter. He took from the schools the soundness of French instruction in drawing and technique, but he never forgot his native land, its ruggedness, its picturesqueness, its uncon¬ querable national spirit — that pride of race and The young painter who won London's heart is some¬ times a moral izer, like Goya . by / THILIP SAWYER , SEPTEMBER I 9 2 2 five hundred nine mceRHACionAL MOONLIGHT IN CASTRO-JERIZ ONATE - BASQUE COUNTRY Jive hundred ten SEPTEMBER 1922 inceRHACionAL country which goes back beyond all By G Js^vo^m aeztu British. But seen through the eyes of tracing in history. When De Maeztu De Maeztu, her face takes on the paints English types, as in “Figures de club,” the subjects and costumes are thoroughly Biitish and modish to the hour, but the faces, wherein character chiefly dwells, are Basque, simple and unadorned. He has painted a portrait of Lady Lavery, wife of the distinguished Irish artist, in which this same note is very marked. Actually, Lady Lavery is typically and unmistakably cast of countenance of a lady of his own race. In going to Paris and London, the artist did not leave his country. He took it with him. Of the truth of this observation any one is speedily impressed by a glance at the painter’s figure subjects and his landscapes. Take three such compositions as “Bout de nuit,” “Pierrot a I’Auberge” and the study of an elderly man, a SEPTEMBER 1922 Jive eleven mceRnACionAL SOTM© ANDALUSIAN COUNTRY BY GUSTAVO DE MAEZTU detail from his large decora¬ tion called “La Force.” Like Goya’s “Caprices,” the first two are moralities, and without in any degree being imitative, in the figure of the old man there is something more than a suggestion of Goya’s power and his relent¬ lessness in depicting age with compelling realism. The three figures in “Bout de nuit” are wholly Basque. The bullet-headed man is not only true to type, racially, but to the genus devoted to viciousness and night-life the world over. The coldly sensuous face of the woman who is watch¬ ing him is a superb piece of characterization. And the weary creature behind her shoulder, whose face is almost hidden by the arm and hand, adds a subtle touch to a theme that conveys to the last word the lesson the painter set out to preach. This note is even grimmer in the “Pierrot a I’Auberge.” The look of sodden despair, with something of piteous regret, in the eyes of the woman half-lying on the cafe table is matched by the mocking expression of the Pierrot, the moral of the picture, we pre¬ sume, being to press in the emptiness, the tragedy of Pleasure and Vice. It is a relief to turn from these contem¬ porary “Caprices” to the serene beauty and pervasive charm of De Maeztu’s outdoor canvases. The sim¬ plicity and austerity of the landscape in “La plaine de Cas¬ tilla” is an artist’s reflection of his home¬ land, the strong rude bridge crossing the little stream, the cattle in the fore¬ ground, all being as personal to the Basque country as are the terms in which this painter has set them down. The “Andalu¬ sian Country” savors of the work of the mural painter, a field in which De Maeztu has had much practice and to which he is devoted. Purely nat¬ ural are the native types of men, women and children in the foreground and the horses and cattle beyond. Yet there is a kind of symbolism of a “Golden Age” in the arrangement of figures and landscape that gives to the com¬ position a noble dignity befitting a subject for a mural decoration. The ease and grace of the figures reveal the artist’s faithful work in the Paris schools, yet they are Spanish to the core. They all stand in a “Sacred Grove.” But it is not the coldly classical vision Puvis De Chavannes saw; it is one rich with the natural characteristics of Spain and living Spaniards. His town scenes, such as the “Moonlight in Castro-Jeriz” and “Onate,” in the Basque country, are admirable illustrations of the painter’s home-keeping spirit. Travellers who know his native province will realize the fidelity to fact in these paintings, and all of us can appreciate the picturesqueness of the ancient houses, whose angular forms are so many bouquets of faded colors, tinted by the ingra¬ tiating hand of time. Jive twelve SEPTEMBER IQ22 mceRrsACionAL Reference has been made to his work as a mural painter. The artist’s devotion to this form carried him to the point of spend¬ ing the summer of 1922, after seeing his exhibition in the Galerie Devambez in Paris well under way in May, in his moun¬ tain home in the Basque country at work on a great triptych sym¬ bolic of the World War to be called “L’Honneur de la Guerre.” A study for one of the characters in this work reveals the power of his conception and the vigor with which he draws a human figure so that its very simplicity adds to the force of the composi¬ tion. De Maeztu is a strong man physically, and his style of paint¬ ing and the richness of his palette reflect his physical vigor. If he has any one artistic idiosyncrasy it is his belief that sunlight is best expressed by putting plenty of paint on the canvas. He, however, makes no attempt to epater the public through a pose or through novelty of subject. He has made his impression on the art world by being true to himself and to his native country. It has been written of the people of which De Maeztu is so characteristic a type that “in customs, in institutions, in civil and political life there is no one thing that we can say is pecu¬ liarly and exclusively Basque; but their whole system taken together marks them off from other people and especially from their neighbors.” The canvases of De Maeztu reflect this “system” which in the Basque character re¬ veals itself in a sin¬ gularly marked self- respect, a pride of race and a dogged conservatism. They “figures de club” by GUSTAVO DE MAEZTU portray these through the pride he takes in preserving Basque types in his figures, in their suggestions of an¬ cient methods of agri¬ culture, and m the old houses which his coun¬ try-men cling to in spite of modern improve¬ ments that have been adopted elsewhere in Spain, evidently prefer- ing to retain the simple and provincial customs, bequeathed them by their ancestors. PIERROT A l’auberge BY GUSTAVO DE MAEZTU SEPTEMBER 1922 Jive thirteen inceRnAcionAL SOTOI® BUDDHA MAITREYA, MESSIAH : BUDDHA SAKYAMUNI, HISTORIC : BUDDHA AMITABHA, OF BOUNDLESS AGES THE BUDDHISTIC TRIAD, THE FIRST AND SECOND OF THE MING, THE THIRD OF THE HAN DYNASTIES BUDDHISTIC IMAfiES of CHINA /ndia, the original home of Buddhism, had many cults prior to the advent of Buddha in the sixth cen¬ tury B.C. The earliest religion seems to have been animism, the cult of spirit¬ ism and souls. This was followed by the period of the Vedas, which gave to Brahmanism its pantheon of Veclic gods, transmigration of souls and elaborate sacerdotal rituals. In fact during this period the Hindu believed it possible for a single soul to be reincarnated within eight million different earthly forms of existence, before returning to its source of first origin in the deity. Brahmanism, or Hinduism, the religion of over two hundred million souls in India, with its multitude of gods has surged back and almost overpowered Bud¬ dhistic traditions. For almost every village has its own particu¬ lar divinity and travellers say that even in these modern times it is quite possible to watch a god being developed for some par¬ ticular place or purpose. Bud¬ dhism was a reaction against many of the vicious extremes of Brah¬ These religious symbols , inspired by India, were later modified by Chinese Taoism . by FRANK H. Q. KEEBLE manism, such as the long vigils of the ascetic and the laceration of the body of the fanatic. The Buddhist theory of karma (or conse¬ quence of earthly acts) differed from Brahmanism’s in that it was “character,” not the soul, that was transmitted, and that a chain of lives was extinguished only when the will to live disappeared in a perfectly righteous man. The principal Brahmanist triad of gods, namely Brahma, Vishnu and Siva, was un¬ doubtedly the prototype of the Ts’on-k’a-pa or the Triad of the Chinese Buddhists, namely: Sakyamuni, Maitreya and Amitabha. Sakyamuni, the historic Buddha, is the deification of Gotama, the founder of Bud¬ dhism. The illustration herewith presents him bearing a notably serene expression, seated with legs crossed and wearing the usual classically simple robes, on his forehead the urna or precious LOHAN ONE OF THE EIGHTEEN ARHATS AN IMAGE OF THE HAN DYNASTY five fourteen SEPTEMBER 9 2 2 •niiiiiiiaiiitiiiiiiimiiiiniiniiiiiiniiiiiiiMiitiiiniiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinniniiiiiriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiHiiiiiiiiiiiiiriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiuiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiHiiiiiiHiiiiiiMiiiMiiiiimiiiiiiiiiii JEWELLED TEMPLE ELEPHANT One of a pair dating from the Ch ’ ten-lung Period mreRnAaorsAL jewel. This characteris¬ tically dignified figure forms a cover to a lotus thalamus revolving over a hexagonal box for the reception of offerings of precious jewels from his devotees. This interest¬ ing gilded Buddha shows distinct Thibetan influ¬ ence, and is of the period of the Ming Dynasty. Maitreya, the Bud¬ dhistic messiah and known to the Chinese as Ju-Iai, is exhibited seated upon a scrolled dais with both hands on his knees; wearing partial armor and voluminous robes over his exposed rotund paunch. He has a som¬ nolent expression and on his forehead is the pre¬ cious jewel. This dig¬ nified figure is finished in black and gold lac¬ quer and is an example of the best period of the Ming dynasty, famed for this sculpture. Amitabha, the last of the triad, is the Ideal Buddha of Boundless Age and Light. He is seated with legs crossed and clothed in a simple robe, enriched with a necklace of beads, a mantle over his shoulders, and a five pointed crown. His downcast features and slightly extended right hand con¬ vey an expression of mystic prayer. There is a distinct Indian influence over this figure which dates back to the simpler Han dynasty. One of the main Buddhist theories is that a Buddha appears from time to time to preach the true doctrine and so re¬ store the full meaning and purity to the faith. Gotama, the last historical Buddha, was born 568 B.C. and died 488 B.C. His birthplace was Kapilavastu in Nepal, and his father, Suddhodana, was a chief of the Sakiya clan. Buddha’s individual name was Siddattha and his mother’s Maha Maya; Gotama came into the world unexpected, when his mother was forty-five years of age, while she was travelling to the home of her parents in the neighboring province of Koliya. This great event occurred in the beautiful garden of Lum- bini, near the river. This pleasant spot was for¬ tunately marked at a later period by a famous disciple of Buddha, the renowned Indian Em¬ peror Asoka, who erected an inscribed pillar re¬ counting what had taken place there. This monu¬ ment is still standing, pointing out Buddha’s birthplace to passersby. Very little of Go- tama’s early life is known, except that he was pleasure loving and that he was married at the age of nineteen to his cousin, Yasodhara of the nearby Kohyan clan. During his twenty-ninth year three visions appeared to him as he was being driven by his faithful charioteer Channa to his pleasure garden. These visions, sym¬ bolic of Disease, Old Age and Death, made a great impression on him and he asked his charioteer their meaning. Channa replied “that such was the fate of all living beings.’’ Then he met an ascetic, or wanderer, walking with great dignity. He again appealed to Channa for an explanation of the man’s purpose in life and was told of his sanctity and self - abnegation. The spiritual side of Gotama was then greatly stirred by these manifestations and after bathing in his garden he gave himself over to deep meditation. Toward the end WEN-CHANG GOD OF LITERATURE, OF THE MING DYNASTY BODHISATTVA, A YOUTH¬ FUL BUDDHA DESIGNATE, OF THE HAN DYNASTY BODHISATTVA, AN ELDERLY BUDDHA DESIGNATE, OF THE HAN DYNASTY SEPTEMBER I Q 2 2 five seventeen tnceRnAuonAL otm© . of the afternoon his thoughts were disturbed by a messenger who came to inform him of the birth of a son, an only child. “This,” said Go- tama, “is a new and strong tie I shall have to break.” On his return home the joy of the clan turned into a great ovation for the young chief and an evening’s entertainment was decreed, at which the dancing of the Natch girls did not rouse him from his troubled reverie. Waking at mid¬ night with a firm resolution to follow in the paths of the ascetic and gain peace, he called for Channa to saddle his horse. While waiting he determined to embrace his new born son, who was sleeping on the arm of his wife Yasodhara amid a bower of flowers. Fearing to disturb the mother he tore himself away, vowing to return not only as a father but as a teacher and savior; in fact, as a Buddha or Enlightened One. Gotama rode forth with Channa determined to commence his wanderings as a homeless and penniless ascetic to complete his salvation. This unique and inter¬ esting incident is recounted in an important Sanskrit Buddhistic work, which is known as “The Sutra of the Great Renunciation.” When they arrived at the sandy banks of the Anoma, Gotama cut off his long flowing locks with his sword and gave his jewels to the unwilling Channa, sternly dismissing him to return to his home. After spending seven days in the retire¬ ment of a mango grove Gotama attached himself firstly to the famous Brahmin teacher, Alara, and afterward to another named Udraka and with them he delved into the deepest portions of Hindu philosophy. As yet his asceticism had not enlightened his soul, so he determined to retreat to the jungle of Uruvela with five devoted dis¬ ciples to even more severe self-torture. After six years of this unnatural life his fame spread through the breadth of northern India. But even Gotama’s virile constitution could not withstand this terrible ordeal, and he determined almost when it was too late to return to normal food and cease mortifying himself with penance. His dis¬ ciples speedily left him when they saw this sup¬ posed fall from grace by their master. Gotama, abased and disillusionised, now turned for sym¬ pathy and found none. He wandered on with wavering faith to the banks of the Neranjara and there sat down to meditate under the shade of a great tree which was forever afterward celebrated as the “Sacred Bo Tree”. A village maiden named Sujata, out of compassion, gave him his morning meal. His old temptations, the joy of living, wealth and power now rose before him; but with a new point of view. Through the day and night he wrestled, not knowing what to do, but finally his faith prevailed and he became an Enlightened One, a true Buddha; Nirvana was now his sacred portion. Tradition records that he fasted for seven times seven nights and days under the famous Bo tree, till the Archangel Brahma appeared and ministered unto him. From now on he renounced self-mortification and declared that this system of asceticism, so long held to be efficacious, was entirely without merit. He also realized to its full extent the fearful power of temptation and the futility of leading others, without his own steadfastness to truth, toward “the only path of peace” through faith. Gotama was now thirty-five years of age, he had a commanding presence, a deep rich voice and earnestness beyond most men. Love and pity resolved him to journey forth and spread his newly found doctrine to the world. He directed his steps toward Benares to find his first five disciples; on his way he met an old wandering ascetic named Upaka, who was struck with the glowing faith beaming from his face and asked the reason. He replied: “I am now on my way to Benares to set up the light of the doctrine of Nirvana in the darkness of the world. I am the Buddha who alone knows and needs no teacher.” Upaka said: “You profess yourself to be arf Arhat and a conqueror.” Buddha replied: “Those are indeed conquerors who, as I now, have conquered the mental intoxications arising from ignorance, sensuality or craving after future life.” The ascetic derisively pointed toward Benares and said, “Gotama, your way lies yonder, mine is in the opposite direction.” Buddha continued his way with a brave heart and finally met his former disciples. They treated him with coldness, remem¬ bering his renunciation of his early ascetic vows, which still were all in all to them. The Buddha gently explained his beautiful doctrine of the “Noble Eightfold Path,” consisting of “Right Views, Aspirations, Speech, Conduct, Mode of Livelihood, Effort, Mindfulness and Rapture.” Conversion quietly came to these five disciples, who reverently waxed enthusiastic in the retreat of the Deer Forest near Benares. Many others, among both the wealthy and poor, shaved their heads and adopted the yellow robe of Buddha’s Sangha, his society of mendicant disciples or itinerant preachers. Many of Gotama’s earliest and most devout disciples were elevated to be Bodhisattvas or Buddhas designate, while they were passing the last stages of their avatars, before attaining the dignity of Buddhas. The two archaic figures, here reproduced, of youthful and elderly Bodhi¬ sattvas, are entirely typical examples of the five eighteen SEPTEMBER I 9 2 2 megROACTonAL Han dynasty. They wear quaint priestly headdresses and robes and carry symbols in their hands, which are held before them. The rainy season being over, Buddha called his most ardent devotees together and addressed them. “I am free from five hin¬ drances which, like an immense net, hold men and angels in their power; you, too, are set free. Go ye now, brethren, and wander forth for the welfare of many and preach the doctrine, beauteous in its in¬ ception, continuance and end. Proclaim the pure and perfect life. Let no two- go together. I also go, brethren, to the General’s village in the wilds of Uruvela.” For forty-five years, till his death, Buddha continued to call his disciples together at the rainy season, each year, afterward dispersing them all over India to proselytize for the new faith. Among the interesting tenets of Buddha is one which is strongly reflected in a number of the Protestant faiths, — namely, repugnance to vest¬ ing mystical power in the hands of the priesthood. The cult also strongly advocates the love of fellow man and points out that the layman, who does not wish to throw over his worldly livelihood, can enter the Noble Eightfold Path simply by living a life of rectitude and kindness. The pious Bishop Bigandet called Buddha’s first set homily to his followers “The Sermon on the Mount.” A burning jungle fire on a nearby hillside at Uruvela was taken for this text. He compared the desolation of the hillside, after the fire had left nothing but destruction in its wake, to the seared and desolate heart of man, after the flames of passion, ignorance and anxiety were burned out. Many beautiful incidents in the later life ol Buddha have been carefully recorded and his last injunction to the brethren just before his death, “Give rever¬ ence to one another,” is certainly worth more than a passing thought. Asoka, the greatly renowned Emperor of Greater India, who ruled in the third century B.C., was not only an ardent Buddhist disciple, but a great donor to the cause. He erected many notable monuments which today give nu¬ merous definite facts in their inscriptions regarding the life and doings of Buddha. However, dur¬ ing or immediately following Asoka’s reign the beautiful Bud¬ dhistic doctrines began to be de¬ filed with an accretion ot gods and ceremonies drawn from the more ancient cult of Brahmanism; even the old idea per¬ taining to the transmigration of souls usurped Buddha’s doctrine of karma; so that in 67 A.D., when Buddhism officially reached China, its greatest stronghold today, it already had a most elaborate galaxy of Buddhas, Arhats, lesser divini¬ ties, and ceremonial rituals. Even this galaxy has been added to by the imaginative Chinese. The later accession of gods is further seen in Bud¬ dhistic Thibet, where figures of Durga, the ten armed spouse of the Hindu god Siva, are not infrequently seen with a thousand arms. Probably the most venerated god or goddess of the Chinese Buddhistic pantheon of over five hundred Buddhas, Bodhisatt- vas, Arhats and lesser divinities, is Kuan-}- in or Avolokitesvara, the God¬ dess of Mercy and Infinite Kind¬ ness. To this goddess every KUAN-TI GOD OF WAR, FROM THE HAN DYNASTY EVIL GENIUS, OR DANCER OF THE MING DYNASTY LHAMO, ONE OF THE DEFENDERS OF THE LAW, AN IMAGE FROM THE EARLY MING DYNASTY' YEN-LO-WANG, GOD OF DEATH OF THE MING DYNASTY' SEPTEMBER I Q 2 2 Jive yiineteen mceRnAcionAL smnm mother in China prays for that most desirable of all blessings, a son and heir, to perpetuate the ancestral wor¬ ship in the family; for this rite is as firmly imbedded in the Buddhism of China as in the native Taoism. KUAN-YIN GODDESS OF EVERLASTING MERCY, OF THE MING DYNASTY tured in the Ming dynasty. The one with simple monu¬ mental proportions is of the early period and is a temple bronze, as is indicated by its large size and dignified pose. This Kuan-yin is seated with her legs crossed under her; she is attired in clinging voluminous robes embellished with sprays of bamboo, the symbol of prosperity, draped jeweled necklaces and similar ropes of jewels on her shoulders, and high coifed hair adorned with a lotus blossom and further jewels. She holds a symbolic lotus spray in her right hand and a vase containing the elixir of life, held close to her breast by her other hand. The more complex figure of the two, with the child seated on her lap, is similar in treatment to the well known blanc-de-chine figures that were more generally made for the shrines of private edifices. Kuan-yin is seated on a throne with bracketed arms at the sides, bearing on one a bird and on the other a vase of the famous elixir. Her head is cowled with a mantle; the throne stands upon conventionalized wave forms. A basket of fish, in other instances, is carried by this goddess as a symbol of her function as patron of fertility. Samantabhadra, the fourth Buddha, known to the Chinese as Pu-yen, the All Wise and Good, is usually seated to the right of the Maitreya; while his companion, the fifth Buddha, Manjusri or Wen-shu the Eloquent, who converted Nepal to Buddhism in the second century, B.C., is on the other side of the great Triad and is usually seen riding upon a sacred elephant. Samantabhadra is shown seated on a symbolic, recumbent fu-lion; he wears a jeweled tiara, the urna in his forehead and curious armor. This vigorous example of modeling of the Ming dynasty exhibits strong Thibetan influence. Kuan-Ti, the famous God of War, is the deifica¬ tion of one of China’s greatest generals and has been taken into the comity of gods by both Taoists and Buddhists alike. He is a national god. The Chinese are often quite complaisant in worshipping gods of sects other than their own, even with great avidity when it is to their purpose. The first Kuan-ti here illustrated is of the Han dynasty and presents a very powerful seated figure wear¬ ing full armor, enlivened with a weird dragon head below the breast-plate and a curiously peaked round helm on his head. The other, of the Ming dynasty, is of more ferocious aspect and is seated in a most belligerent attitude, wear¬ ing full armor bearing a dragon’s head similar to that on the Kuan-Ti of the earlier Han dynasty. The God or Emperor of Literature, Wen-chang, like Kuan-Ti has been absorbed from the Taoists, who still give him great reverence. The quaintly bearded and seated figure of this god presents a noble and dignified presence; he wears a curious skull cap adorned with a scrolled up¬ right flap at the back and volumi¬ nous robes falling in very simple folds. This exceptionally fine figure was mod¬ elled in the best period of the Ming dynasty. Only two KUAN-TI GOD OF WAR, OF THE EARLY MING DYNASTY The two figures shown here of this goddess illustrate very distinct types that were sculp- SAMANTABHADRA THE BUDDHA TO COME, OF THE MING DYNASTY Jive twenty SEPTEMBER I 9 2 2 mteRriAcionAL SOTQf© further gods are here illustrated; these belong to the group known as Yi-Dam, or Eight Terrible Ones. They are supposed to be the Protectors of the Gods. Yen-lo-wang, the God of Death, or Supreme Ruler of Hell, is a gilded figure with four arms of Thibetan origin; it is of the Ming period. finely caparisoned with a saddle cloth, enameled in colors and enhanced with ropes of jewels. He stands on an open base chiseled with scrolls and symbols, and carries on his back an enameled vase, having ropes of jade symbols and a jeweled crescent shaped receptacle for the sacred jade disc. Terrible in aspect, standing with outspread feet The interest in these Buddhistic bronze figures i on a monster having an elephant’s head and human body, he wears partial armor, a flaming tiara on his head, and carries a pestle in one of his four hands and a mortar in another. Lhamo, the other God of this series, is known as Defender of the Law; he is mounted sideways on his sacred mule, evidently making a triumphant journey, worrying evil doers. He appears with a cynically ferocious aspect and his arms extended in a declama¬ tory attitude; he wears jeweled corslet and a many pointed crown sur¬ mounted by a series of flames. This very amusing presentation is of the Early Ming dynasty, but it is pervaded somewhat with Thibetan influence. The eighteen Arhats or Conquerors were the very closest disciples of Gotama, who, having tri¬ umphed over this ma¬ terialistic world, itin- erantly spread the gospel of Buddha; they are mostly portrayed as the one shown — seated with smiling, placid features, shaven heads and men¬ dicants’ robes exposing their breasts. This remarkably sculptured figure is of the Yuan dynasty. At other times they ap¬ pear in large joyous groups with their different symbols. A gilded bronze figure of Thibetan origin dating from the Ming dynasty and repre¬ senting a grotesque dancer, one of the Evil Genii of Mara, the Wicked One, is squatting on a double cushion, wearing knop head-dress, jeweled neck¬ lace and scanty skirt. I he jeweled, enameled and gilded Temple Elephant reproduced in color is one of a set made in the reign of the Emperor Ch’ien-Lung and originally held on its back a jade disc symbolic of one of the quarters of the earth. The elephant is is KUAN-YIN GODDESS OF EVERLASTING MERCY OF THE MING DYNASTY sustained in a subtle manner, no matter at what angle they are viewed — from the early primitives which rank in merit with similar objects of other early civiliza¬ tions, to the later specimens with their gilding, jewels and enamels, which are so very delightful for their rich peculiarly decorative and human qualities. Regarding these sculptures purely as religious art objects, to Western civilization there is a marked affinity between them and the carvings of the best and most typical period of Gothic art. This resemblance is found in the serene expression of the faces of the figures consecrated to peace and goodness, the brutal force of such types as Kuan-ti, the god of war, and the fantastic images of the god of death, the evil genius, and the defender of the law, that are as exaggerated as any of the apocalyptic animals known to that art we call Gothic. The sweet contentment marking the face of the figure Kuan-Yin, the god¬ dess of everlasting mercy, which is reproduced on this page, recalls a marked char¬ acteristic of the Gothic Madonnas, among which is seldom found one with a dolourous countenance. To Western eyes, there is a suggestion of slyness in such a mask as that of Buddha Amitabha, of Boundless Ages, but this represents a national characteristic from our viewpoint and is not so often seen as are the more apparent moods of profound meditation and the happiness of achieving the state of the per¬ fectly righteous man. It is because these images combine these religious and national characteris¬ tics so happily that we admire and treasure them as something more than art objects in our public and private collections in this country. SEPTEMBER I Q 2 2 Jive twenty-one mreRnAcionAL " c MADEMOISELLE FEL ” Study by Quentin de La Four This portrait sketch of the woman the artist loved is part of the collection bequeathed by his brother to his native town of St. Quentin five twenty-two SEPTEMBER 1922 mceRnAcionAL scum© The TREASURE of St QUENTIN T row many tourists, / 7 journeying carelessly from Brussels to Paris, by the direct route, in the happy clays when Original pastel sketches of La Tour, saved when Ger¬ mans destroyed town, now in Louvre • by Meanwhile its growth was marked by adventure. Three times ravaged by the Normans, the city was sur¬ rounded by defensive walls travel was both easy and HELEN °W. HENDERSON in 883- In the Fifteenth inexpensive, ever thought Century occupied by the to stop off at a pretty little manufacturing town, Burgundians, in 1557 it was taken by the Spanish, on the right bank of the Somme, not far from The Spaniards held it for two years, where- the French frontier — at the old village of Saint- upon, being restored to the French, it was Quentin, in the department of the Aisne? assigned as the dowry of Mary Stuart, upon Nevertheless Saint- Quentin, even from the train, expressed a promise of something better than the ordi¬ nary. A clean, orderly, altogether charming provincial city it ap¬ peared, built upon an incline, and dominated by a big Gothic church, one of the finest build¬ ings of its epoch in the north of France. The church, visible from the train, loomed large, as is the way of these sym¬ bolic relics of remoter Christianity, and dwarfed the pretty city grouped about its mas¬ sive walls, blotted out by its immense shadow. Before the Gauls the Roman city of Augusta Veromanduorum stood here, at the meeting place of five roads, and in the Third Century it was the scene of the martyrdom of Gains Quin- tinus, who had come hither from Italy to preach the new doctrine of Christianity. The tomb of the saint became a famous place of pilgrimage, and towards the middle of the Seventh Century Saint- Eloy, bishop of Noyon and friend of King Dago- bert, established upon its site the collegial church of Saint-Quentin. The church stood to com¬ memorate the glory of the martyr whose bones lay buried in its crypt together with those of his two heroic followers, Victorious and Gentianus. In the middle ages the importance of the town was increased by the rise of its cloth manufacture. QUENTIN DE LA TOUR S STUDY OF HIMSELF her marriage to the young king of France, Francois II. During the Franco-Prussian War Saint-Quentin re¬ pulsed the attack of the Germans, on October 8, 1870, and in January, 1871, it was the center of a great battle, fought by General Faidherbe. These things I learned later. My first, and for many years my sole preoccupation with Saint-Quentin was its treasure, the seldom seen and little known collection of pastels by the renowned Maurice Quentin de La Tour. The knowledge of this priceless collection of the works of the great pastellist seemed to be reserved for the know¬ ing ones and Saint-Quentin be¬ came a place of pious pilgrimage lor artists and amateurs, while an occasional special¬ ist would drop off the train at the quiet station and make his way through the provincial streets to the little shrine to the memory of this whimsical favorite of the Eighteenth Century, whose epoch — spirited, light, frivolous and gallant — lives again in his pastel portraiture. Perhaps the most famous pastellist of all time, Maurice Quentin de La Tour was a native of Saint-Quentin. One of the most vigorous person¬ alities of the court of Louis XV, he became por¬ traitist to the king and recorded in his inimitable way not only the heads of Louis and of Marie SEPTEMBER 9 2 2 Jive twenty-three inceRnAcionAL SOTM© STUDY OF MADAME FAVART BY QUENTIN DE LA TOUR Lcczinska, of the dauphin and of Marie- Josephe de Saxe, but those of the whole of the court with Madame de Pompadour, the Marechal de Saxe, the Prince de Conde, with Mademoiselle de Camargo and Madame Favart, Voltaire and Diderot, Jean Jacques Rousseau and Buffon, the court, the theatre, the literary, the philosophic, and the scientific world, and La Tour, himself, with Ius thin face, his sharp nose, his careless costume presiding over his handiwork, revealing himself as unreservedly as he reveals the whole fabric of the social system about him. The collection of eighty-seven pastels, which constituted La Tour’s reserve and which contains his rich accumulation of preparations and notes for his official portraits, came to the city of Saint- Quentin as a legacy from the artist’s heir, his brother, whose portrait (the cavalry officer in red uniform bordered with silver) forms one of the collection. La Tour died only a few years before the Revolution; his brother survived until 1806. It is to be supposed that the city of Saint- Quentin, which had appreciated to the full during his lifetime the honor of having been the birthplace of the painter, was not entirely insensible to the value of the bequest which fell to it at the brother’s death. La Tour himself had died a rich man and had benefited his native town by the founding of an art school, which he richly endowed, and by foundations for poor women and aged artisans. At the same time the Revolution had killed for the moment all interest in his portraits, had shelved the whole spirit of the Eighteenth Century, so that La Tour’s work, together indeed with that of Watteau and the others, fell into disrepute and was looked upon, if at all, with con¬ tempt. The school of David reigned. Since the terms of the bequest pre¬ sented no obstacle, the town decided to sell the collection, hoping to acquire by its sale an interesting sum which should be applied to more practical purposes. But the moment was unpro- pitious and the sale, attempted in Paris, at the Hotel Bullion, in 1808, was a fiasco. Pictures which in La Tour’s lifetime were worth thousands of livres were bid from three to twenty- five francs! The sale was stopped and the pictures sent back to Saint-Quentin, where they were at first assembled in a room at Fervaques, the old Bernardine convent. In 1886 they were installed in a home of their own, the pretty Flotel Lecuyer, a Louis XVI style house left to the city for the purpose by a wealthy banker. The Musee Lecuyer stood in a quiet street, well back from the place which marked the center of the town. The atmosphere of the house was perfect, it breathed the spirit of the Eighteenth Century; there was nothing to distract from La Tour and his epoch. A guardian of rare intelligence hovered over the pictures like an anxious mother with a delicate infant, adjust¬ ing the light to their requirements and watching his visitors with unobtrusive vigilance. Thus Saint-Quentin and its treasure lived along in peaceful security until the recent catas¬ trophe made it suddenly the center of a bombard¬ ment which ultimately razed the town, which destroyed the Gothic cathedral, which overthrew the little temple of art. JJien all at once Saint- Quentin became a pivotal point in a disordered universe. Yet even then, how often did I, reading my Boston newspaper safely on the peak of Beacon Hill, striving to follow the march of events, Jive twenty-jour SEPTEMBER I Q 2 2 mceRnAcionAL SOTDI© search in vain for any reference to the pastels of Quentin de La Tour! War correspondents seemed as ignorant of their existence or importance as the countless tourists whose guide-books had failed to recommend a stop-over at this border town. Oi their wanderings and vicissi¬ tudes we know only that these fragile chalks escaped destruction first through French prudence and second through German cupidity. Pastels are bad travellers and it was partly for that reason and partly because of lack of time to make better arrangements that the municipality ol Saint-Quentin, in¬ stead ol removing the collection to some remote place of safety, merely placed it in the cellar of the museum during the bombardment of the city. When Saint-Quentin was taken, early in 1917, the enemy carried the pictures to Maubeuge, placing them in an im¬ provised museum ol loot. Two days before the armistice the advancing British army released Maubeuge and recaptured its treasure, at five o’clock in the morning. Meanwhile Saint-Quentin, though regained, lay in ruins, the Musee Lecuyer was a memory, and there was left standing no building worthy of the STUDv °F madame de pompadour c . *1 . r . receDtion of the ApVmzt* on- +u^ _ _ by quentin de la tour the famous portrait of La Tour by himself, the por¬ trait of the dauphine’s brother, the Marechal de Saxe, and that ol d’Alembert. And it contains portraits by Perronneau, La Tour’s rival during life, and several ideal heads by Rosalba, the Italian woman pastellist, whose work is said to have been La Tour’s first inspiration. La Tour soars above the others, Perronneau having sunk swiftly to his proper level soon after the death of the master. His portrait of La Tour shows a disdainful coxcomb, powdered, spruced up, and rigged out for the confusion of his rival in a manner quite foreign to his genial personality, as can be seen by comparison to the simple, joyous portraits done by himself. The pale visage bears out the legend that La Tour posed expressly “the morning after” in order that one should not find animation in the work of his rival. As we compare La Tour’s vivid portraits with the insipid prettiness of Rosalba’s efforts it is in¬ credible that at any period of his career he could have admired them. La Tour repudiated her suave technique, attacking the medium with bold¬ ness and decision. Yet there are two pictures in reception of the delicate art of the great pastellist. The Louvre offered its appropriate hospitality— appropriate because it had for years been the residence of La Tour himself, and many of the drawings had been made within its walls. Installed now in the wing of the Louvre devoted to drawings, the pastels of La Tour are accessible to a large general public which until recently may be said to have practically ignored their existence. Hung impressively apart, in two rooms whose dis¬ position separates them somewhat from the gal¬ leries of drawings, the pastels seem to have refound something of the charm of their original setting. Through a special wicket one passes into the reliquary which shows the process of the painter’s art, while without, in a room adjoining, are hung La Tour’s finished masterpieces, belonging to the Louvre, thus making comparison easy. Undoubtedly La Tour’s best known canvas is the portrait of Madame de Pompadour which hangs amongst the finished masterpieces. This room contains also the official portraits of Louis XV and his neglected queen, Marie Leczinska, the dauphin and dauphine, Marie-Josephe de Jive twenty-jive SEPTEMBER I922 mceRnACionAL KU STUDY OF PERE EMMANUEL BY QUENTIN DE LA TOUR the Saint -Quentin collection which show unmistakably the point of departure — the “Young Girl with a Dove” and “Young Girl with a Wreath,” obviously copies of Rosalba, and it is significant that La Tour should have kept them to the end. He seems to have snapped off from the leading strings into his own virile and positive manner immediately after having done them. No sooner was the painter’s first work known than the court and society took him up and he became the rage. The king, the queen, the dauphin, the court favorites, statesmen, philos¬ ophers, everybody wanted a pastel by La Tour. Flooded with commissions he worked unceasingly, with verve and rapidity, turning out an immense amount of work without ever showing the fatigue of the fashionable portrait painter. Probably this is because La Tour never made himself subservient to the whim of a sitter, and seldom sacrificed truth to flattery. If, as in the case of the famous portrait of Madame cle Pompadour and the royal portraits belonging to the Louvre, he permitted himself to present the subject in a light so favor¬ able as to be almost false, he made it up to himself by the bold studies of the same models which constitute the richness of the Saint-Quentin collection. An hundred anecdotes of his sans gene in his dealings with distinguished sitters prove the remarkable inde¬ pendence of his character. “Mon talent est a moi,” he said, refusing to compromise, resisting the llattery of the court. La Reyniere, a rich finan¬ cier, who had arranged for sittings sent his valet to pose for the costume of the portrait. La Tour, who valued his time as highly as that of his sitter, was indignant at this affront to his dignity, and abandoning the portrait of La Reyniere painted that of his domestic in its place. “Your face is that of a man of spirit,” said La Tour to the astonished lackey, “whereas your master’s is that of an imbecile.” He refused to finish the portraits of the king’s daughters because they had missed a rendezvous, and it was said that it required a veritable diplomacy to persuade him to paint the dauphine. The correspondence between La Tour and Monsieur de Marigny, the brother of Madame de Pompadour, who undertook the negotiations for her portrait, has been preserved, as also the favorite’s letter in which she begs the painter to complete her portrait. La Tour was very coy and put her off as long as possible with one excuse and another. First he replied vaguely that he would not paint “en ville.” Finally sittings were arranged at Versailles. La Tour imposed frequent poses and the express condition that he was not to be disturbed by visitors whilst at work. The Pompadour agreed to everything and La Tour arrived on the appointed day and prepared himself for work. Here comes in the famous anecdote which Champfleury has dramatized: Following his custom, La Tour unbuckled his shoes, took off his garters, his collar, and his wig, hanging the latter upon the point of his easel, and put on his painting bonnet, a sort of old night-cap. Completely at his ease he began to sketch in the portrait when sud¬ denly, contrary to orders, the door opened and Louis XV entered. “You promised me, Madame, that your door should be closed,” complained La Tour, making a wry face at the intrusion. The king, graciously excusing the painter’s dishabille, begged courteously to be allowed to remain, but La Tour rising in wrath, gathered up his wig, his Jive twenty-six SEPTEMBER I Q 2 2 mceRnACionAL collar, his garters, and his hat, strode from the room, saying coldly that he would return when Madame was alone. The portrait lagged but was finally finished and La Tour delivered it with a bill for 48,000 livres. To his disgust Madame de Pompadour disputed the amount, began to bargain with him, and offered half in payment. The de¬ bate would have lasted forever, says contemporary comment, had not Chardin intervened. At this time the studios of the two painters were next each other in the Louvre and Chardin overheard La Tour in a fury walking backwards and forwards in his apart¬ ment crying at the abasement of his talents. His gentle neighbor appeared and to calm his wrath asked La Tour if he knew what had been paid for all the pictures hung in Notre Dame. These included the chief works of Lesueur, examples of Lebrun, of Bourdon, of Testelin, etc. La Tour confessed his ignorance. “Well,” said Chardin, “calculate — about forty can¬ vases at three hundred livres each.” The pastellist was abashed into silence. La Tour painted the king’s mistress at the apogee of her power, when he, himself, was at the pinnacle of his fame. The large finished canvas belongs to the Louvre and dominates the gallery of contemporary pastels. Yet it is not before this Pompadour, so composed of face (this marvel of art which represents the favorite, not as she was but as she wished to be), that one reads either the painter’s psychological insight or the woman’s true character. The personality of the sitter be¬ comes, indeed, a negligible factor in a world of luxurious accessories. It is her brocaded gown which occupies the greater part of the canvas, her music, her books, her correspondence, her paint¬ ing — those fancied occupations — all these pre¬ dominate without convincing us that the pretty head, which turns an expressionless profile towards the spectator, is concerned with anything more than its one vital preoccupation — that of holding the favor of her royal lover. Of the true Pompadour the studies for the portrait in the Saint-Quentin collection present the uncompromising verity. In these La Tour searched out her soul, and in finding it does not attempt to minimize the fatigue, the age, the secret disgust of a life of forced pleasure, the sad distinction of a nature thoroughly in love with STUDY OF D ALEMBERT BY QUENTIN DE LA TOUR elegance and art degraded by its impossible task — that of amusing the king and thus holding her position in the world. The pastels in the Saint-Quentin collection are unequal in importance, in their dimensions, their finish, their state of preservation. Some are half- length, like the Abbe Hubert; others show the bust, like Jean Jacques Rousseau; most give only the oval of the face. Some are entirely finished, many remain simple indications. A few have suf¬ fered from lack of care. Those least finished are perhaps the most interesting, as they show the method of attack, and of such is the portrait of Crebillon, a quick brutal rendering of the elements of an unlovely physiognomy. The study for the head of Marie Leczinska is one of the best pre¬ served, a fresh, frank drawing of a very simple woman without the conventional flattery of the official portrait. The king is rendered with equal frankness and simplicity and these two portraits might have been done yesterday, so per¬ fect is their state of preservation. La Tour knew no subtlety of color. His art, like that of all prolific portrait painters, has at times, especially in his official work, but even SEPTEMBER 9 2 2 Jive twenty-seven mceRnACionAL smnrn sometimes in these personal sketches, a superficial technical fluency — the thing is almost inevitable, but La Tour resists it more than most. His strength lies in his ability to seize upon the char¬ acter and expression of the sitter, or, as one writer has expressed it, “to penetrate behind the pre¬ tentions and dissimulations which models impose upon painters.” Many of his portraits are the complete synthesis of the sitter, the resume of his existence. Of such are the portraits of the court abbes, round of cheek and voluptuous of mouth; of such is the head of the Marechal de Saxe, this very finished preparation for the portrait in the Louvre, which presents with energy the strong, ugly head of the victor of Fontenoy, of Raucoux, and of Lawfeld. Of such, again, are the portraits of La Reyniere and La Popeliniere, grave finan¬ ciers who, swollen with pride, take themselves so seriously; of d’Argenson, the devoted minister whose high intelligence has been shaped by power to a contempt lor men. But of such is not the portrait of Jean Jacques Rousseau, whose masque La Tour could not penetrate. All conditions, all ages, both sexes, are re¬ presented in the treasure of Saint-Quentin, Irom the pretty, bored head of the king to the melan¬ choly and charming image of the little dauphin; from men of genius, such as Veron de La For- bonnais, to writers of small worth and great vanity, such as Duclos. Not the least interesting are the anonymous portraits, rich in a teasing personality, like masked figures at a ball. At Fervaques the portraits were shown in the simple black wood frames in which the painter, himself, had placed them. Most of these still bore the labels in La Tour’s own handwriting; others he had marked on the backs. When the pictures were reframed the bits of paper which identified them were lost or confused, so that now many of the portraits are anonymous or falsely attributed. Of the women that he painted we feel La Tour frankly not interested in the portrait of the dauphine, Marie-Josephe de Saxe. This princess, daughter of August III, elector of Saxony and king of Poland, was the second wife of the dau¬ phin and gave him for sons three future kings ol France — Louis XVI, Louis XVIII and Charles X. The eldest of their children, the due de Bourgogne (of whom the collection contains a charming por¬ trait), died young of an accident. We know that La Tour painted the princess under protest, feeling probably that he could do little with her dull personality, her sweetness, her fixed, forced smile. Such a face as that of Madame Favart, on the contrary, drew out his best efforts, proved an immense inspiration. La Tour gives us just the masque, lull of malicious animation. Justine de Ronceray had a brilliant career. Married to the gifted dramatic author, Favart, she created the principal roles of his plays. Neither beautiful nor distinguished, her little irregular face, brown eyes, short impertinent nose, mobile lips, have an ag¬ gravating and winsome charm. The Marechal de Saxe loved her lor years in vain. Upon such a head could La Tour expatiate with all his force. Yet even when his heart is involved, as in the portrait of Mademoiselle Fel, Ins mistress and friend for thirty years, his love of truth dominates his adoration of the woman. He sees her as she is, a woman nearing forty. The tint of the camelia remains upon her cheeks, the dark eyes are superb in spirit, but La J our thinks too much of her to sacrifice the character of her fine mouth, the maturity of her shapely face to mere youthful bloom. She has elegance and lassitude, a charm original and exotic, the latter thought carried out in a bit of stuff, embroidered in gold, which she wears upon her head like an oriental turban. Born at Bordeaux, she may have had Saracen blood, one seems to trace it in the length of her velvet eyes, in her pearly pallor, her delicate nose, narrow cheeks, and thin Arabian face. In perfect harmony with his age La Tour had the tastes, the ideas, the sentiments, the character of the XVIII century. He was spirited, ironical, fantastic, light, with the solid background of dis¬ tinguished achievement. Diderot wrote: “J’ai vu peindre La Tour; il est tranquil et froid, il ne se tourmente point, il ne soulfre point, il ne fait aucune de ces contorsions du modeleur enthou- siaste, sur le visage duquel on voit succeder les orages qu’il se propose de rendre. II n’imite pas les gestes du furieux, il n’a pas le sourcil releve de I’homme qui dedaigne, le regard de la femme qui s’attendrit, il ne s’extasie point, il ne sourit point a son travail; il a le genie du technicien, e’est un machiniste merveilleux.” As he grew old, losing that fine balance which Diderot’s description indicates, La Tour’s eccen¬ tricities became more marked, his interest in art was subordinated to a rage for acquiring knowl¬ edge on all subjects. At fifty-five he learned Latin; he delved into science, metaphysics, re¬ ligion, sociology. His condition touched upon mania and when he retired to Saint-Quentin he was considered mad; yet it was a gentle madness which led him to kiss the hands of his servitors, and to embrace the old trees of his city in the course of his walks. Thus he died on the 17th of February, 1788, at the dawn of the Revolution. Jive twenty -eight SEPTEMBER I Q 2 2 / mceRriACionAL A SCULPTOR in "WOOD ho is the greatest sculptor of today ? Such a question has its foolish aspects, I know; but when I put it to art lovers, museum directors and others recently in vari¬ ous parts of Europe, it served the intended purpose of bringing out a considerable array of names, although it revealed also some shallow national prejudices. Incidentally it opened some entirely new vistas into little- remembered side-fields of sculpture, and some of the answers reminded me that America still fails to see many of the finest things in world art until decades after the artists are established and recognized in their own countries. There is the mat¬ ter of sculpture in wood, as a pertinent instance. The answers in general, after one had allowed for personal taste, local pride and other variable factors, at least brought out clearly how many really great sculp¬ tors there are in Europe today. In Paris, of course, there is no name to challenge that of Maillol (unless the radicals there as elsewhere shout everyone else down with Brancusi and Archi¬ penko — extraordinary gen¬ iuses both); in Vienna it is Anton Hanak; in Munich it is Edwin Scharff; in London, if one can find any opinion at all, it is the American Epstein; in Berlin it may be Kolbe or Barlach or Metzner; farther north it is always Einar Jonsson, and in regions somewhat to the eastward it is Ivan Mestrovic. Truly an imposing array! Instead of Editorial Note: The photographs oj Barlach's work are published by courtesy of Paul Cassirer , of Berlin attempting a choice of the greatest, it seems much more to the point that one should note the varied ten¬ dencies and solid achieve¬ ment of all these dozen men, and to reflect that great sculpture is neither dead in the world nor likely to die soon. II I elect, then, to write here of one man — Ernst Barlach — it is not because I would place him above Epstein and Brancusi and Maillol or the others, but because he is undisputed master in his own field, a field that has hardly been remembered in the cen¬ turies since the flame of Gothic art burned out. Bar¬ lach’s field is that of sculp¬ ture in wood. In saying that that branch of art has been dead for several hundred years, it is necessary, per¬ haps, to draw a distinction between wood carving and sculpture in wood. Wood carvers, making ornamental designs or reproducing other men’s figures, have existed in the world continuously; but creative artists, cutting their conceptions directly in the wooden block, have been unknown in the Western world for so long that one is apt to doubt that this has the possibilities of a major art medium. The reasons for the lapse are doubtless many and va¬ ried, but at least two are obvious: first, the general decay in craftsmanship; and second, that absurd notion, derived from a misconcep¬ tion of classic art, that all “artistic” architecture must be in white stone — a fallacy that carried over from the “the freezing girl” WOOD SCULPTURE BY ERNST BARLACH Ernst Barlach proves him¬ self the first modern master of an art that flourished in Gothic tunes ' • by SHELDON CHENEY SEPTEMBER I 9 2 2 Jive twenty -nine inceRnAcionAL BimiQ architectural to the old woman with a stick sculptural field, glorify- ernst barlach ing the monumental and the coldly pretentious, and particularly cold white marble, there were no other signs that the world is breaking out ot one art epoch and into another, there would be evi¬ dence enough in the widespread return to color, and in the re¬ vival of so many ot the more “intimate” media of aesthe¬ tic creation. Wood is es¬ sentially more intimate and more human than is either stone or metal. With nineteenth century superstition for the past in mind, one might expect the renaissance of wood sculpture to have fol lowed a close study of Gothic art. But the man who stands as the foremost worker in the field today is no mere de¬ river of other¬ time inspirations. Ernst Barlach is as individual a creator as there is in the contemporary art world. He seems to have turned to wood absolutely independently, entirely because he found therein a medium exactly suited to the expression of what he wanted to say. Thus sculpture in wood has come back into the group of living arts not as a revival of a mediaeval art but as a medium ideally co¬ ordinated with certain emotional aspects of here- ancl-now, and with not a little bias toward what is generally if vaguely termed modernism. Sculpture is in one sense more obviously an art of “form” than any other. And yet one need go only a little way in study of the subject to know that the real essence of art, aesthetic form — that quality so variously named “significant form,” “essential form,” etc., and perhaps un- namable because it is four-dimensional in a sense — is as elusive here as in painting, architec¬ ture, music and other arts. The true sculptor knows that it is not a surface matter, not to be attained by an easy fluency in modelling, or a clever pro¬ ficiency in imitation of a model (even though ll that model be caught in a particularly revealing attitude), or in mere anecdotes or symbols adequately translated into bronze or wood or stone. There is the necessity, beyond all these things, of some understanding combina¬ tion of emotion and expres¬ sion, a finely-preserved bal¬ ance between creative vision and a scientific mathematical- musical feeling for form, for an indefinable fourth-dimensional qual¬ ity growing jointly out of the artist’s consciousness and the mysterious capabilities of his medium. Somewhere a critic ot Barlach’s sculpture quotes him as explaining his work in a sentence which may be paraphrased thus: “I care for the people, and I care for sculpture.” In the simplicity and directness of that, as in its linking of his passion for certain types of people with his passion for plastic expressiveness, there is a suggestion of the whole story of the man and the art¬ ist. In the directness of the man, too, in his longing for immediate aesthetic expres¬ siveness, might be found the reason for his grasping the wood medium. The sculptor in stone must work week after week, even month after month, to realize his slightest con¬ ception, keeping the fire of inspiration alight through endless days of extreme physical labor. The modeller — who, by the way, may or may not be accorded the title “sculptor” in the creative period that is dawning — may build up his clay or wax sketch quickly and spontaneously, but the shaping of the full-size model, and the further steps to the finished bronze, are matters of a con¬ siderable lapsed time. No sort of sculpture offers a quick medium to complete expression, but wood is undoubtedly the nearest immediate of all the materials that are available. Wood has, of course, other virtues than this one of directness, distinctive virtues that lie in its consistency as wood. The very “feel” of a well-realized wood sculpture, the “blockiness” ol it, resulting from the broad way in which it cuts, is different from any that can be secured from stone or bronze. Certain artists have capitalized Jive-thirty SEPTEMBER 1922 inceRHACionAL the grain, although the effects thus gained are to be considered as more in the nature of accidentals; and the opportunity for increasing interest by the actual method of cutting or chipping — the texture element — is to be noted as of importance. Marble, granite and bronze have their dis¬ tinctive virtues as well, unattainable in any other materials, and there are certain losses in not us¬ ing these more usual media. Some of the dif¬ ferences that will most readily leap to mind, however, may be less sound than they at first seem. Someone will im¬ mediately say that sen¬ sitiveness is a quality more easily attained in the more minutely chis¬ elled stone, or in modelled clay or bronze. For answer let us look at the extraordinarily expressive face of the “Old Woman with a Stick,” among the illustra¬ tions herewith, or at the general pose of the “Freezing Girl.” For this matter of sensitiveness, of exactness of revelation, as well as for the next point — that wood, although less durable than stone or metal, is fairly permanent — my mind flashes to that Torso of Christ which is treasured by George Gray Barnard in his remarkable collec¬ tion of Romanesque and Gothic art at “The Cloisters.” This figure, to be numbered among the finest sculptures in America, is placed as a work of the Tenth Century. That is something of a test for wood as a me¬ dium, and not a bad record: a thou¬ sand years of life among the vicissitudes of war-torn Europe. Barlach’s home in his youth was in the north of Germany, in Mecklen¬ burg, and there is more than a suggestion of his early environ¬ ment in his work today. A darkness that hangs over his visions, a close¬ ness to the soil, a certain heavi¬ WOOD SCULPTURE BY ERNST BARLACH ness, these traits might be traced back to the influence of his own way of life on his mind and emotions. If he may be said to link up at all with any school of art, one would have to search rather in Scandinavia and Rus¬ sia than in Germany for names to put beside his. Particularly in the list of Scandinavian writers, and certainly in the group that included Tolstoy, Dos¬ toievsky and Gorky, one might find the animating spirit that shapes the approach of Ernst Bar¬ lach’s to his subjects. But note this well: whatever he may have been in his earlier years as artist, he certainly cannot today be tagged with the label of Na¬ turalism. There is Realism in his work a-plenty — but never for its own sake, never merely the cross-section of life, the photo¬ graphic, the amazingly truthful. He links with the great Russians rather in finding his subject- matter in the less fortunate classes, and in his sympathy with them. But his subject found, he is off clothing his vision in an art form as individ¬ ual, as formalized, as far from the natural surface of life, as can be imagined. Perhaps that is one of the chief characteristics of the true Mod ernist in art: that he digs as deep down toward the heart of life as the so- called Realists ever did, and then clothes his resultant emotion in expressive forms that are the very opposite of naturalistic, that are in¬ dividualistic, stripped of all accidental or inessential na¬ tural detail, shaped arbi¬ trarily — plunging all the WOOD SCULPTURE BY ERNST BARLACH SEPTEMBER I 9 2 2 five thirty-one mceRnAcionAL raw© way through the dross “real” to the emotional. In regard to Russia, it must be added that Barlach spent some time in that country in the formative period of his art life, thus strengthening and clarifying those currents which had begun to (low into his consciousness out ol his own environ¬ ment. A German biographer of Lehmbruck, the one undoubted genius among Germany’s pre-war sculptors, has pointed out the curious appropriate¬ ness in the fact that Lehmbruck, needing city life and the contact ol traditional culture and the atmosphere of the art workshop, for the ripening of his talent, went to Paris to study and work, whereas Barlach, individualist and dreamer, craving something primitively solid and in a sense anti-cultural, sought his field — and found it — among the Russians. And yet every German commentator points out, with some justice, that il there is any point at which Barlach establishes contact with the past, it is where the Alt-Deutsch sculptors left off four or five hundred years ago — in Nuremberg and the other art cen¬ ters of Bavaria. Barlach’s figures, drawn as they are from the “folk” groups, from the lower strata of so¬ ciety, inevitably chal¬ lenge comparison with the sculptures of Con¬ stantin Meumer, the Belgian who made a world success with his delineations of laborers and the peasantry. Such a comparison may prove illuminating in several ways. Meunier is par excellence an example of Naturalism or Realism for its own sake. Read any article about him and you will find that it is “truth to life” that is insisted upon, over and over again. Look at a Meunier statue and it is the actuality of it that is the amazing thing. Details are capitalized rather than eliminated; a perfect out¬ ward realization of the model has been achieved. At his best Meunier may be said to have achieved a subjective sort of Realism, a something that spoke for himself as artist, beyond his subject. But with all his deal¬ ing with simple people, did he ever achieve a work as simple as Barlach’s “Old Woman with a Stick” or his “Freezing Girl” — or anything so much in the spirit of those people.' Great artist that he was in his period, he fell vic¬ tim to the besetting artistic sin of his era: he was more intent on delineating truthfully and in detail what could be seen with the eye, and what could be understood with the intellect, than he was in expressing some emotion aesthetically and hnally that the subject had inspired in him. Without claiming that Barlach has achieved any great number of masterpieces in the post- Realistic field, or that he is more typical of current tendencies than half a dozen others who might be named, one may recognize clearly that in his best work he has freed himself completely from that sort of Naturalistic fallacy. He is individual, subjective, but it is not the eye or the intellect that controls, but rather feeling, emotion, aesthetic apprehension. In the finished work there is no question of his having been slave to his subject; feeling, form as such, and sheer love of his medium speak beyond subject matter. In the two men, among the great¬ est in their respective fields, there is a mighty story of a world-shift in art — a story that is il¬ luminating to anyone seeking light on the probable direction of “die verlassenen” CARVED WOOD PANEL BY ERNST BARLACH (In The National Gallery, Berlin Jive thirty-two SEPTEMBER I 9 2 2 mreRnAcionAL Modernism, but withal a story which is still confusingly in the making. Of the works shown in illustration in these pages, I have already mentioned the “Old Woman with a Stick” and the “Freezing Girl” as examples of simplicity and sensitiveness. The former is more often reproduced than any other of his sculptures, and may perhaps be considered best representative of what Barlach is trying to achieve. The directness, the honesty of it are extraordinary, and coupled with these qualities there is a challenging fineness in the handling. Above all, perhaps, there is that solidity, that scientific fullness, which marks the greatest sculpture. In the whole, breadth with sensitive¬ ness, emotional conception with science, frankly wooden medium with direct, living expressiveness, there is an object lesson that might well be pon¬ dered over by many of our facile young American modellers. The term “vigor” takes on new meanings and new reservations when one applies it to such a piece of sculpture. The same solidity is marked in the “Freezing Girl,” and there is here, in the way the figure stands, further evidence of Barlach’s mastery of simplification as a means to greater emotional expressiveness. “The Sleeping Vagabonds” seems, somehow, a less serious work, more a matter of recorded outward life and less a matter of feeling. Entirely different from any of the other things illustrated, in conception or purpose, is the famous “Die Verlassenen,” of which the original is in the modern annex of the National Gallery in Berlin. Here the artist has obviously been actuated by some conception of a rhythm to be attained, more strongly than by an interest in a subjective emotion. One work in bronze, the so-called “Pastoral Group,” is added to the illustrations, partly to show that Barlach might claim eminence in more than one medium — for it is a work that would attract special attention in any exhibition of re¬ cent sculpture — and partly to suggest that a medium habitually used leaves its mark on a man even when he turns to other media. For the thing throughout gives evidence that instead of modelling in the usual fashion, Barlach has cut his clay as he would cut his wood. Other artists in many other countries are experimenting in this medium, and we even find it turning up in our own independent shows. But the only artist who has so far sufficiently “caught on” with a public to be exploited in the magazines is Chana Orloff. Her work, however, is calculated to attract attention by its novelty and by a cer¬ tain amusing satirical element rather than by those more vigorous and more honest qualities which are apparent in the illustrations herewith. Wood sculpture is by wray of being in renaissance. At present its best exponent— in the creative sense of the word — is Ernst Barlach. He holds that place not because he set out to gain it, but because he had an artist’s vision and reached out for the most direct means of expression. Perhaps the best explanation of his success from start to finish is to be found in the one w'ord honesty. PASTORAL GROUP A BRONZE BY ERNST BARLACH SEPTEM B E R 9 2 2 Jive thirty-three mceRrjAcionAL §uy ff’ene duBOlS ovements in art resemble whiskey bottles. They are important when full, when empty they are merely the shell of a fine thing which died. The substance of this article is in this journalistic lead. Any art writer would have spoken of waves with Michelangelo on the crest of one and Phidias of another or, as Clive Bell, of slopes leading, like the scollops on the kitchen oil cloth, to some larger one (a mistake of the scissors) spotted by the commanding figure ol Cezanne. But then any art writer, thinking of Hughes or Lloyd George or Briand probably, would bristle at the thought of confusing politics with art or anything with art. ART, spelled with three reverential capitals, is the only virginal thing remaining on this vul¬ garly rollicking earth. Art — the painting end — is so pure that it no longer needs a recognizable body. Ask the enlightened writers on ultra¬ modernism or, knowing none, Allred Steightz. But be careful: do not confuse a painted abstrac¬ tion with a socialistic theory. It is true that their designs have something in common: a mass as against the ancient kingly figure, the central morsel; an idea playing the devil with the ana¬ tomical and philosophical integrity, with the free will of the individual. He counts no more. Strength is in numbers. Numbers — Protestants, Catholics, Mohammedans, Democrats, Republi¬ cans, Bolshevists, Labor Unions and Trusts — are not free figures. Paint them in dozens. They are little marionettes in big puppet shows. Quantity against quality? Is the whole world machine made? And where are we all going, bodies of us together, regiments entangled in other regiments, Freudians and Puritans? Paint them in hundreds of thousands or better still, since the trend of the time demands efficiency, paint them with symbols, a cylinder making a triangle look sick, a cube balanced on a newspaper clipping. College boys in snappy clothes, flappers in round hats, uniform dresses for young girls and for others who wish they were. Aesthetics have nothing to do with all this. But the slouch hats of the friends of the people are disappearing. Perhaps we’ve tired of the empty bottle which once held Jeffersonian sim¬ plicity. There can be no absolute assurance on that question. There can be hope. Only recently, within two or three years, Barnard’s statue of Lincoln was attacked because the great eman¬ cipator’s bronze trousers were uncreased. Per¬ haps, after all, we are growing a taste for the frivolities, those the French call the lighter ones. The New York Herald, owned by Frank A. Munsey, has an art critic who is a Francophile. It is not improbable that we shall shortly have translations of Henri de Regnier. When that happens, however, the last slouch hat will be a curiosity even in the Middle West, even in Ohio, though I’ve heard (on no very good authority to be sure) that one day, between affabilities, Warren puffed on a cigarette! If Ohio begins to go in for frivolities, then republicanism, or de¬ mocracy, or whatever is the word for the “plain man’’ philosophy, is dying. And, too, many of us are admiring the empty bottle. I ve heard New Yorkers titter over the photograph ol Warren blowing the horn in the Alarion band. (This titter in Cleveland would have been better evidence, but we must use that which is given us: colored with hope it is not bad at all.) We are going on toward a President who dares a two-inch cigarette holder, and following that revolution there may be a Congress, like interior decorators, in spats. However, our most popular painters are still wearing the slouch hats (I’ll call this figurative) of the he-man. The feminine alone is supposed to be sensitive. Perhaps these painters are too masculine to gather anything from the new turn of the wind. J et, I’ve seen John Sloan, Robert Henri, George Bellows, Eugene Speicher and, of course, Leon Kroll (which is a doubtful bit of evidence, lor Air. Kroll is noted lor his taste in dress), in dinner jackets! Subject for wonder there. They cannot, while living even this much up to the new ideal, have retained a firm grip on that reverence for the past which the Chinese themselves seem at last to have decided to dis¬ card. But the stuff out of which “plain men,” “forceful” language and the rest of it are made, continues to lend that character to their painting which in effete quarters would be called vulgar and, amid the handshaking republicans, vital. Henri and Bellows are from Ohio; Speicher, Sloan and Kroll should be if they are not. Heriri and Bellows of the lot, in any case, are the most five thirty-four SEPTEMBER 1922 mceRnAcionAL popular. There is less content with the lighter frivolities in Sloan.1' And he has had less com¬ mendation. He has been suspected of socialism. Whenever he has recorded the “beau monde” he has written it down with a quite righteous re¬ publican sneer. The money for all these gewgaws might put food into the faces of the starving poor. Besides, the answer is as simple as this, you cannot paint the oak of a table when it is covered with a mahogany veneer. Perhaps life is most evident when it is most odoriferous. There’s reason for doubt, anyway: oak that is not visible may not be oak at all. Courbet wished (out loud, for it is recorded) that his pupils might add to their other realistic notes the odor of a Percheron which he led into the classroom. Such is life; the life, anyway, which made a particular appeal to Robert Henri, the high priest ol these republican Americans. He returned after an eleven years stay in Paris to become the American apostle of French realism. Emile Zola was writing then and “Manette Saloman” by the de Goncourts had been printed for some time. He could not anywhere have discovered a more fertile ground, a soil whose young sprouts wanted more vigorously to become men. This, be it understood, in the republican sense. Some of them may have already crossed Brooklyn ferry with Walt and probably followed him to less serene places. It was not long before they all wanted to. No Beardsley exotics here. Kenneth Hayes Miller, at that time, had not yet outlived his first love for the chaste Floren¬ tines. And what an idol was Gustave Courbet. He had fought the republican fight behind barri¬ cades. Romance there for you. He had talked republicanism with tremendous fervor outside the barricades. His masterpiece “The Funeral at Ornans’’ was without a central figure. One man is as good as another. To the ash heap with Raphael’s polite, sugary, overgracious, urbane, suave veneer — his royalist manners. Courbet was unfortunate in being unable to find enough hairy apes around him. Perhaps he really had not the eyes with which to see them. His epoch was awfully cluttered with the gods and goddesses of classicism and romance. It is difficult for a man to travel far beyond his environment. But he lived the man’s man part. Meyergraeff describes him in Munich drinking more beer than a host of formidable Bavarians. There was another note, quite beside the point, to the effect that a strain * EDITORIAL NOTE — It may be observed at this point that when it comes to incisive realism and disinclination to call a spade a shovel , also to positive color , Messrs. Henri , Sloan and Bellows are under no necessity of taking a back seat to anybody unless it be to Guy Pene du Bois. — P. B. of Teutonic blood must certainly have run in his capacious frame. Courbet may already have emptied the bottle when our republicans began their admiration society. He had been dead a long time. The political face of Paris had already changed. The republic was a going concern. There were his French successors, realists owning no tinge of his romance. Perhaps there was nothing left but to carry through with the empty bottle the gestures he made with it full. An ideal realized automatic¬ ally ceases to exist. We go on to the next bottle. But in America the established painters were dragging pigment into pretty ensembles, ensem¬ bles so pretty that they could be taken as a sign of the want of vitality in the nation. Inness, Wyant and Martin were favorites. Murphy was still to sell everything he painted, though he’d begun to point that way. Ryder, painting in an ash strewn flat on the West Side, was hardly known. Our rich men who did violent things in money markets were Iambs brought to be slaugh¬ tered in art markets. Mahonri Young had not introduced Meunier. Though Alillet’s laborer was known, he was an agriculturist, not an iron worker. Industry as an art theme was never considered. Degas, Manet, Renoir, Whistler were not much more than names. Henri did a great service when he introduced to the community a little group of disciples which became known as “The Eight’’ in contradistinc¬ tion to “The Ten American Painters.” For the most part “The Ten” were very polite (or com¬ promising) disciples of the French pleinairistes. With two or three exceptions “The Eight” were republicans, singing the song of the plain man and his family. That was before Bellows had gradu¬ ated from an Ohio college, before Shinn, who was a playful member of the group, had discontinued easel painting, and Glackens, another, had come out of the Whistlerian cellar. It was a long time before the war: very few Americans compara¬ tively had crossed the ocean. Only an odd one here knew anything about foreign politics and few of these cared when not financially concerned. The slouch hats were everywhere. We were a real republic: every man as good as his neighbor. The dining-room table was mahogany or pine painted mahogany color. The chairs were hand carved or made to resemble handcarving by an ingenious lathe set up in a busy Grand Rapids factory. Face was equally distributed among the ladies, although some was made by machine in Newark and some by hand in Brussels. Only the trained eye could detect the difference. We talked about sending the boys to public school in order to SEPTEMBER I 9 2 2 five thirty-five mceRnAcionAL give them such things as breadth, democracy, etc. It is difficult to know, even in the face of the preceding evidence, whether the republican real¬ ism which reflected that time was not already a somewhat empty bottle, a kind of reminiscence of something which was good while we had it but which now, alas, was gone. The Prince of Wales was a big success here recently and titled people are now taking room in the Sunday supplements which might be devoted to railroad or ship wrecks, portraits of athletes or of good solid republicans. But this has been true in, perhaps, a minor degree for a long time. There is better evidence elsewhere. It is especially plentiful in the picture galleries. The suggestion may be timely that fancy and frivolity, like tennis balls, are good things to play with and not desirable because they are useful as the mirror of a solid virtue or of the beauty in a dull countryside or of the pathos, a la Eugene Higgins, in the trials of the extremely poor. There is service, if service is absolutely essential, in entertainment. The fashionable word now employed before pictures in cases of extremity has changed from “inter¬ esting” to “amusing.” The difference in these two words is not tremendous, but, slight as it is, it is vital. Our republican realists are never amusing. Somehow they have got perplexed over the difference between solidity and stolidity and have acquired the second quality when they were really aiming at the first. The first as a pre¬ dominant virtue of commerce should have weight in a republic. One does not smile before their works in any case, and never with them. They have the qualities of good citizenship, and they have the dullness. We have been forced to stand and listen to the national anthem with a somewhat substantial bourgeoisie a good many times in recent years, to stand like soldiers willy nilly. This as a state measure is a sensible matter of form. The validity of the form on which the republican realists have thrived is more questionable and is being even more questioned. Harding descending to blow the communal horn, the handclasp so condescend¬ ingly given the laborer, the mock of brotherhood in excessive cordiality, the overloud talk which is a sectional mannerism, used to captivate the national love of energy and vitality. “Hit them between the eyes,” was a saying. But perhaps that blow has been landed too often. When we are not knocked out we are merely bored. Great sweeps, with Bellows and Henri, of brushes loaded with paint and gusto, constitutes strong arm painting. Pictures of common people in common interiors; no touch of the fancy breed or decorators in them. We hear that Ohio has produced so many presidents because it is the pivotal state or be¬ cause it has topographical good fortune. Perhaps, far from being a plain matter of a map, the reason for Ohio may be found in psychology and philosophy. Climate must be considered. Neither Raphaels nor olives can be grown in the northern countries. There are political aspects also. A republican state ruled by the will of the majority is ruled by the mediocrity. Ohio appears to understand the kind of appeal acceptable to the most people — or, at least, some Ohians do. Mr. Cox kisses his son before the camera and Mr. Harding pats his dog. Nice human, democratic men, even as you and I. Camera reports are beyond denial. Besides, they usually deal only in those facts which cannot be harmful to the public or to the public men photographed. Henri, Bellows, Speicher, with all their great display of vitality, are models of good behavior. We can talk of their private lives only in terms of virtue. They are like Goya only in the evidences of gusto. Indeed, the fight recently waged on the Bellows nude hung at the National Arts Club was more amusing than otherwise. Bellows has inherited the wisdom of prudence. Flesh is best, which is to say most safely, seen as leather. Delacroix found the same virtue (he did not call it virtue) with the flesh brushed in by that great classic purist Ingres. Bellows is neither a New England Puritan nor a purist. The purist keeps flesh out of his art in order that no carnal consideration will enter its summary and thus puncture the spiritual precision of his message. But the Bellows message is not spiritual. It is built for the plain man, an appeal to the republi¬ can common sense and written in language sug¬ gesting that the blood of the writer has come to a boil. He is giving plain facts at fever heat accentuated by the lustiness of enormous brushes, by the gesture of the plain man in possession of the full rich energy of youth, otherwise called “pep.” In all these gestures, however, there is never a hint of gallantry, never a breath of a scented breeze, never a touch of real intimacy. The work begins by being held within the defini¬ tion of that which in a republican state or in a commercial nation will be considered important painting and ends there. There are no slips. The beauty rendered, should there happen to be any, is the homely, modest, sound one beloved of the common people. The lines are square and unimaginative. The composition, solid and sub¬ stantial, is the product of an executive rather Jive thirty-six SEPTEMBER l Q 2 2 inreRnAcionAL OTM© than of an inventive faculty. In Henri we find, on the other hand, a little of that insipid sort of prettiness which has made the covers of the Ladies’ Home Journal popular in our broad land. He has been away from Paris or his early idols too long, from those sterner human documents which, though rarely pretty, are often beautiful. The original kick has given place to an imitation of it. Having lost the revolutionary radicalism of his youth, the early discontent, he has settled comfortably upon the optimism of PoIIyanna. Perhaps he is himself questioning the importance of “important” painting. It may be that he has caught at something in the unsettled air of the period. Could he have listened to the sceptic twaddle of the Dadaists? Who can tell? His repetitions of his convictions want the char¬ acteristic fire. Mr. Speicher is younger, young enough to have been caught in the meshes set here by the paintings of Renoir. It is true that he accepted them with a compromise, perhaps a moral com¬ promise. Renoir was not a republican. Speicher is affected by republicanism: he only occasionally rises above the level set by his compatriots. The Frenchman owned a sensuousness which in old age became senility. Speicher is younger than the Renoir we know best in America — and tighter. Renoir’s “barbarians” (Camille Mau- claire’s name for them), groomed by the Ameri¬ can, become like those ladies of our billboards who, after twenty years of marriage and face cream, have retained their school girl complexions. Still it is possible that in reaching toward Renoir he valiantly attempted to throw off the solid banalities of his school. KroII aims at Cezanne. The new bottle must arrive very soon. rr, - — - rf> die Cover by dime. viqee-Le Brun Although the in¬ dustrious and always popular Mme. Vigee- Le Brun (1755-1842) is best known by her portraits — which she painted to an extraordinary num¬ ber in France, Italy, Austria, Russia and England — she also left among the world’s public and private col¬ lections not a few semi - allegorical sub¬ jects of which the ‘‘Portrait of a Woman” that is re¬ produced in color on the cover of this issue of International Studio through the courtesy of Wilden- stein & Co., is a charmingly characteristic example. In the “Self Portrait” shown here the artist is represented in the manner by which she is best known, a circumstance due to the large number of portraits she painted in her long and busy life of eighty-seven years. That manner had little of the graceful sentimentali¬ ties of the “Portrait of a Woman,” which is done something in the manner of Greuze, a painter under whom she never studied, but to whose style she proclaimed a certain amount of admiration through such pictures as this semi-allegorical subject. The woman in this canvas is realism it¬ self, the figure having the revelatory frank¬ ness of Rubens with¬ out his robust vision and treatment. The accessories of the cos¬ tume, the jewels, the deep chair with its luxurious draperies are all treated in this same manner, allegory and fancy entering into the figure of Cupid with his fascinating little wings and the ornate bow and quiver of arrows which the woman holds in her gracefully beautiful hands. SELF PORTRAIT BY MME. VIGEE-LE BRUN SEPTEMBER I Q 2 2 Jive thirty-seven mceRnACionAL SOTM® ddttsburgk cWeds Art to (gardening THE FIGURE IN THE CENTER IS ROBERT aiken’s “faun AND mermaid” BEFORE THE TAPESTRY STANDS SHERRY FRY'S “fortuna” Arts and sciences not gen¬ erally associated with ar¬ boriculture were drawn upon to jashion the “ Exhibition of Art and Science in Gardens ” at the Car¬ negie Institute in June Jor the Pittsburgh meeting oj the Garden Club of America. Sculpturey pictures , Flemish verdure tapestries, garden books , models oj park and plaisance — all were assembled with blooms and greenery into a combined display that delighted and amazed the spectators. These things were related to gardening; but no one appears to have drawn them into one relation before this show was held. Such an exhibition lifts gardening up to the highest plane of expression such as was practiced in Italy, France and Eng¬ land for centuries. It is rich with sug¬ gestions of how many of these things may be applied to the small as well as the large garden. balcony of the sculpture hall at CARNEGIE INSTITUTE AS ARRANGED FOR THE ART AND SCIENCE IN GARDENS EXHIBIT ONE OF THE GALLERIES IN THE EXHIBITION OF ART AND SCIENCE IN GARDENS AT CARNEGIE INSTI¬ TUTE, PITTSBURGH BELOW*. A FOUNTAIN FIGURE BY HENRY HERING IN THE BACKGROUND A PEACOCK PANEL BY ROBERT WINTHROP CHANLER five thirty-eight SEPTEMBER I Q 2 2 mceRHACionAL A TEA SET DESIGNED AND MADE BY THE POTTERY OF NEWCOMB COLLEGE NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA It’s IVow the TOTTER’S Turn mong the many artis¬ tic revivals in the United States that owe their inspiration to the Cen¬ tennial Exhibition held in Philadelphia in 1876 is the world’s oldest art, that of the making of pottery. From Colonial and Revolutionary times the English and German colonists and their immediate descendants followed the pot¬ ter’s craft with results so fine that their wares, however humble their original use, are now treasured by all collectors of American pottery. The potter was an indus¬ trial artist, but in the slow and steady decline of art interest in our country in the second and third quarters of the nineteenth century, the individual potter fell away with the rest of our craftsmen. And it was only the tonic effect of the Centennial Exhi¬ bition that revived pottery making and brought it up to the present high achievement it has reached today. To one woman, Maria Longworth Storer, of Cincinnati, is this revival due. And it is emi¬ nently fitting that the work she began, purely as an ama- * Formerly chairman of the pottery section oj Arts and Crafts, General Federation of Women*s Clubs. teur, should be carried directly to the people through the travelling pot¬ tery exhibit of the General Federation of Women’s Clubs, which tends to es¬ tablish, in the small towns where it is sent, a standard tor what is good in pottery. During the last year the Federation’s exhibition has been seen in thirty-six towns and more than one hundred pieces have been sold in that period as a result of the plan adopted for attracting interest to the shows. Art has been brought to the people, which includes the sponsor¬ ing of the exhibition in each place bv the local women’s club, a special invitation extended to school children and the public, a lecture com¬ piled by Airs. Anna Morey (for nine years chairman of pottery of the Federation), delivered by a member of the local club, and the attractive¬ ness of the exhibition itself, which includes from fifty to sixty examples from the pot¬ teries that sprang from Mrs. Storer’s first venture into this field — those of the Rookwood, Newcomb, Van Briggle, Teco, AN EXAMPLE OF THE WARE OF THE NEWCOMB POTTERY Renaissance of the cra fts in America brings redo at of the world’s most ancient creative art * ■ • by LILIAN H. CROWLEY* “ Turti , turn my wheel! This earthen jar A touch can make, a touch can mar; And shall it to the Potter say, What makest thou? Thou bast no hand? As men who think to understand A world by their creator planned, W ho wiser is than they.” — Longfellow SEPTEMBER l Q 2 2 five thirty-nine mceRriAcionAL SOTM© Niloak, Paul Revere, Dedham, Marblehead, Over¬ beck and Moravian plants. It is intended in the future to add a still greater variety of work of American potteries to the travelling exhibition. The term “pottery” in its broadest sense in¬ cludes all objects made from clay and hardened by fire to enable them to withstand daily use. Nowadays the term is generally applied to the commoner class of articles so made, the name “porcelain” being tain definite varieties of pottery. Actually pottery is opaque earthenware, glazed and baked, while porcelain is a fine, smooth, transparent or semi-transparent earthenware, white before being dec¬ orated. The basic clay, which is found al¬ most everywhere in the world and in al¬ most every state in our country, begins its pro¬ cess of being made into pottery nowadays by being ground in water in a “ball mill,” cleaned of sticks, stones and other impurities, and then fashioned into round cakes ten inches in diameter and an inch and a quarter thick, ready for the potter. The illustra¬ tions reproduced here show a potter “throw¬ ing the clay” to make it soft; forming a vase Joseph h. meyer, for on the “throwing “thrower” at newcomb wheel (an instrument college, and three 0f the potter’s craft so EXAMPLES of NEWCOMB . . pottery ancient tnat no one knows its origin); the “knuckle draft,” one of the secondary stages; the process of “drawing” the clay, and the finishing and decorating of the piece. While the clay is being worked it is called “leather hard” and after it is fired for the first time it is called “biscuit.” Decorations may be put on before it is put in the kiln for the first time, but the glazing — the process of dipping the piece into a liquid made from Jive forty SEPTEMBER g 2 2 mteRnAcionAL silicates of various bases — comes after the clay has become“biscuit.” When this glaze is dry the second firing takes place and the piece is finished. Glazing adds to the beauty and the serviceableness of the pottery. Rookwood, the pioneer pottery of the United States, was started in 1880 by Maria Longworth Storer, of Cincinnati, Ohio. She became interested in pottery while attending the Centennial in Philadelphia in 1876, and a little later began, with some friends, the making of “Rookwood,” which was the name of her father’s home. These enter¬ prising women were called “the lady potters.” They began their work in an old schoolhouse and were fin¬ anced in their undertaking by Joseph Longworth, Mrs. Storer’s father. Mrs Storer retired from the work in 1890, when William Watts Taylor, recently deceased, took charge. The very beautiful buildings on Mt. Adams, Cincinnati, are proof positive of the popu¬ larity of Rookwood Pot¬ tery. The work was not self-supporting until after AN EXAMPLE OF HIGH GLAZE ROOKWOOD WARE A ROOKWOOD MODELLER FORMING A VASE ON THE THROWING WHEEL the Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo. The original enterprise was entirely an art idea, but it is a good thing for the country that since that time Rookwood has been put on a paying commercial basis. Shales from the mines of the Ohio Valley, mixed with Hint and spar, are used in this pottery. Colored glazes were first made in 1883. One may know the date of any piece of Rook¬ wood by the mark on the bottom. From 1882 to 1886 the word Rookwood and the year beneath were used. In 1886 the plant began the use of the monogram R.P. In 1887 “R,” with a flame above it, was used; then a flame for each year up to 1900, after which the year below was put in Roman numerals. The monograms or initials of the decorators are also cut in the bottom of the pieces. The decorator works with brush and India ink, which, being a vegetable color, soon fires out. The decoration is then over¬ painted with a mixture of oxides and “slip,” the latter thinned with water. This makes the design a part of the piece itself. Conventionalized landscapes, flowers and rooks are some of the subjects used for the decorations of Rookwood pieces. Decorations are sometimes incised on the “green” with modeling tools. In 1904 at the St. Louis Exposition the “vellum” glaze was exhibited for the first time. It was the only ceramic novelty of the exposition and it made Mr. Stanley Burt, its inventor, famous. “Vellum” is a transparent mat glaze developed in the firing and not by acid or other after-treatment. It takes its name from the texture which characterizes it, a soft, parchment-like finish which has a place between the bright and dull glazes. In 1910 the “Ombroso” ware was brought out by the Rookwood Pottery. It has a mat glaze and colors usually in grays and browns, sometimes with notes of SEPTEMBER 1922 five Jorty-one mceRnACionAL A FINISHED EXAMPLE OF ROOKWOOD WARE beautiful ware represents years of chemical re¬ search and kiln trials. The new Rookwood soft porcelain has a deep glaze flowing over plain pieces, or pieces with low - relief modeling. Many of the forms of Rookwood are made on the potter’s wheel, and Charles M a h a r has achieved fame as a thrower of some of the most beauti¬ ful pottery in the world. Rookwood glazes are in many colors, shades and variations — blues, greens, yellows and reds — and every piece is original and un-duplicated both in design and decoration. John Wareham, vice-president of the company, who of late years has had charge ol the decorating room, is himself a decorator of wide experience. He has largely regulated the choice of colors in which the pieces were to be glazed and has made many interesting innovations in the actual shape of the ware. Newcomb Pottery was originated in 1897 in the School of Art, Newcomb College, New Orleans, Louisiana. The clay used is from St. PLACING THE WARE IN THE KILN FOR FIRING, AT THE ROOKWOOD POTTERY which has lately been added a beautiful com¬ bination of blue and rose. Newcom b pottery has a semi-transparent mat glaze through which the underpaint¬ ing appears as AN EXAMPLE OF DECORATED ROOKWOOD POTTERY Tammany Parish, La. The ware is hand thrown by Joseph H. Meyer, for twenty-six years thrower for Newcomb, then the design is drawn with a soft pencil on the clay vessel and incised with a steel modeling tool giving the effect of low-relief modeling. The pot is fired and then the decorator paints it in its unglazed state, applying the paint with a brush over the modeled design. The designers are southern men and women educated in the School of Art, Newcomb College, and the flora of the South is largely used as subjects for decoration, the orange, palm, magnolia, jasmine, cypress, pine trees and the oaks with hanging moss. Among flowers the Newcomb designers use snowdrop, spider- wort, iris, alisa, march- maple and many other motifs seldom seen in other examples of American decorative art. The general color effect is a combination of blue and green, to other colors. In 1 9 1 6 t h e pottery pro¬ duced a soft porcelain, with a rich glaze, to celebrate the t h i r t v -fifth anniversary of Rookwood. The develop¬ ment of this Jive for ty -two SEPTEMBER 9 2 2 mceRnAcionAL through a morning mist. It has taken prizes at all international expositions since 1900 Each piece is original and is never duplicated. It bears the signature of the artist and the monogram of the college, a letter N within a letter C. Artus Van Briggle of Colo rado Springs, formerly with the Rookwood Company, be¬ gan making pottery in 1902. He died a few years ago, but his work has been con¬ tinued by his wdfe and others. This pottery is very beautiful and is famous lor its raspberry color, shading into a rich, dark blue, and there are also delightful pieces in green and blue. There is always great dignity in th shapes, which are free fro... eccentricities, and the glaze is of an unusual velvety quality which appears to its best advantage in the undeco¬ rated pieces. Upon the decorated pots the design is modeled in low-relief, with motifs of conventionalized flowers which are used in such a way as to give charm to the line of the piece. Mr. Van Briggle received his inspira¬ tion from studying the Chinese porcelains in the Paris museums. Teco Pottery is made in Terra Cotta, Illinois, by the Gates Pottery Company, of which its creator, William D. Gates, is president. Situated in a picturesque valley, near a beautiful lake, the is velvety. The dull tones of the ware make a location gives inspiration to the designers who pleasing setting for all kinds of flowers and, as cultivate many flowers, particularly aquatic a spot of color alone, are decidedly decorative, plants. Mr. Gates’ own artistic Niloak, the name of another home is near the workshop. 1 eco Cincinnati, ohio variety of American pottery is ONE OF THE ROOKWOOD DECORATORS AT WORK, AND AN EXAMPLE OF DECORATED ROOKWOOD POTTERY is especially beautiful in form; frequently suggesting classic inspira¬ tion. Some specimens have the lily or lotus, leaf and flower motifs, still others the purely imaginative ideals of the artist-potter. The shapes are simple in line and form, and some are undecorated, the beauty of the piece depending entirely on form and glaze. For colors there are metallic greens, browns, yellows and blues. The glaze SEPTEMBER I 9 2 2 Jive forty-three mceRnAcionAL “throwing” the clay, the FIRST STAGE IN THE MAKING OF A VASE vases and bowls are all hand made and so there are no two pieces alike. The coloring ot each is different, also. Overbeck Pottery is made in Cambridge City, Indiana, by Eliza¬ beth, Mary and Han¬ nah Overbeck. This pottery is all “thrown” on the potter’s wheel, except the cups and “kaolin” spelled backwards and is made in Benton, Arkansas, a little village in the Ozarks near Hot Springs. Niloak is a very popular pottery, made of local clays, and its color scheme consists of shades of two colors, usu¬ al 1 y blue and brown in an acci¬ dental pattern which produces a wood - like effect closely resembling old Indian pot¬ tery. Candlesticks, the process of “drawing” the CLAY ILLUSTRATIONS POSED BY PRO¬ FESSOR PAUL COX THE FOURTH SHOWS THE FINISHING OF THE PIECE KNUCKLE DRAFT, ONE OF THE FIRST STAGES decorator. Two meth¬ ods of decoration are used, glaze inlay and carving. Shapes, dec¬ orations and glazes are all original. The material used in Over¬ beck pottery is feldspar from Pennsylvania, kaolin from Delaware and ball clay from Tennessee mixed to- j gether. The “hya¬ cinth” which is some¬ thing of the color of a ripe raspberry with lavender shadings, the “turquoise” which resembles the gem of that name, and a lovely creamy yellow tone are among the most beautiful of the Overbeck glazes. Marblehead Pottery is made in Marble¬ head, Massachusetts, where charming, old- fashioned gardens, sunlit rocks and a blue sky, all aid in inspiring the artist. This pottery was founded in 1904 by Dr. Her¬ bert Hall, but since 1915 Arthur E. Baggs has been the artist-owner. The shapes are saucers, which are made in moulds. Elizabeth Overbeck does most of the “throwing.” She com¬ pleted her training under Charles F. Binns, in the New A ork School oi Clay Working and Ceramics, Alfred, New York. Mary who does nearly all of the designing, studied in the Department of De¬ sign, Columbia University, and Hannah is the Jive Jorty-Jour SEPTEMBER 9 2 2 inceRHACionAL distinctive in style and the glaze is a very smooth, silky, mat or dull finish glaze. Each piece is lined with a glossy enamel of harmonizing or contrasting color. The shade known as “Marblehead blue” is one of the best-liked colors. Others are: gray, wistaria, rose, yellow, green and brown. Paul Revere Pottery was begun in 1908 and is entirely hand-wrought. It includes delightful bread and milk sets for children with names inscribed and conven¬ tionalized animal forms and tree designs as decorations. Porridge sets and tiles are decorated with motifs of rabbits, chickens and windmills, all outlined in black, with a dull glaze in colors ranging from cream-white to rose, yellow, red, blue, green, gray, turquoise, black and brown. The Paul Re¬ vere Bowl Shop is at Brighton, Massachusetts. At East Dedham, in the same state, may be found the Dedham Pottery, which produces a crackle tableware, lovely in its shade of old blue on a white ground with motifs of con- THREE EXAMPLES OF VAN BRIGGLE POTTERY ventionalized animals and flowers. The Moravian Pottery and Tile Works of Doylestown, Penn¬ sylvania are making some won¬ derfully interesting tiles. The common red clay of the vicinity is used, which is covered with heavy enamel or colored glaze. Old motifs that were used in Pennsylvania a hundred and fifty years ago often appear on these tiles — quaint Penn¬ sylvania-German inscrip¬ tions in sgraffito. The result with this style of decoration and the deep, rich enamels is most artistic and delightful. Lenox china, founded in 1889 by Walter S. Lenox, is a beautiful Bel- leek ware and “bone” china. Ex¬ perts say that the Lenox potteries, which are located at Tren¬ ton, New Jersey, have produced for the first time in America, china that is equal to that of the best potteries of England. It has an ivory tint not so strong as in Irish Belleek, but of a more delicate creamy tone. The glaze surpasses that of the older ware. Losanti ware was made by Louise McLaugh¬ lin, of Cincinnati. It is said that she was the first woman in the United States to make true porce¬ lain, a beautiful result which won her a bronze medal at the Paris Exposition. This product is no longer made. Volkmar was made about 1879 Greenpoint, New York, and in Brooklyn in 1895, in r9°3 at Metuchen, New Jersey. It is an art ware with mat and enamels on a semi-stone body. There have been many other lovely below: two typical EXAMPLES OF THE NILOAK POTTERY SEPTEMBER 9 2 2 Jive forty- Jive mceRn AO on Ai¬ wa res not here mentioned such as Frackleton, Grueby and Byrdcliffe. Some of these are no longer made. But American pottery is now so firmly established, its art is on so high a plane of design, color and craftsmanship, that it stands among the finest examples of modern ceramics with every prospect of being developed to an even more exquisite phase ot decorative beauty. This development would be limited in its results if it were not for the aid given it bv the General Federation of Women’s Clubs. In the larger cities and towns there are innumerable oppor¬ tunities to see the work ot the American EXAMPLES OF OVERBECK POTTERY FOUR PIECES OF TECO POTTERY potteries, but in the smaller towns such displays are very rare. In carrying the art of the potter to people in places isolated from the current move¬ ments in art, this women’s organization is acting as an evangel of beauty and of practical worth. The careers of many of these American potteries have plainly shown that without financial encourage¬ ment, through sales of their wares, they cannot endure. Few things could equal this kind of encouragement compared with the traveling exhibition fostered by the women’s clubs. We read much of the good that would come of having art in the market place, but seldom see that good deed put into effect. Here we see it done in a comprehen¬ sive way, nation-wide in its significance. BELOW: EXAMPLES OF OVER BECK POTTERY Jive forty-six SEPTEMBER I 9 2 2 mteRnACioriAL An Illumination of the Year 1265 Close affinity of the art with stained glass is apparent in speci¬ men taken from an ancient manuscript From a thirteenth century manuscript recently acquired by the Metropolitan Museum of Art there have been taken certain pages for exhibition, one of which is reproduced on this page — an illumination that represents this Gothic art at its finest. In this period of Gothic illumination the hiera¬ tic, symbolical style inherited from the preceding century bad become full of the newer spirit of naturalism, but bad not lost its grandeur in at¬ tempting trivial realism. The illuminators of that period followed the conventions of the painters of stained glass, a fact apparent in this illumination through its pure flat colors and its masses outlined as sharply as though drawn on glass. Its naturalism is traceable to the impulse for instruction, the main purpose of Gothic art. This illumination represents the naturalistic move¬ ment at an early stage, and naturalism is the foundation upon which the great movements of Western art have been solidly erected. rrcThe f lock ii xcj and Scourging of Christ from a A III Century Psalter in hati n . . {Metropolitan Museum of Art) SEPTEMBER 9 2 2 five forty-seven The EDITOR’S for SEPTEMBER HIS is the sixth number of International Studio under its new management. It closes the seventy-fifth volume. The custom of the magazine has been to divide the twelve num¬ bers of the year into three volumes, but in future a volume will consist of six numbers, thus provid¬ ing a bulkier book and making for both con¬ venience and economy with libraries and con¬ noisseurs. Five numbers of the improved International Studio have passed in review, and the art world has formulated its judgment and has approved the policies and enterprises of the new manage¬ ment. This approval could not be more emphatic and it could not be more whole-souled, for it has come in the shape of increased circulation. Nearly twice as many people will read the September number as read the January number. There has been a steady flow of subscriptions, even in the months of July and August, when the world is not supposed to give much thought to art. Judging by this, the Fall and Winter should bring an extraordinary growth in the circulation (and the propaganda power) of International Studio. We are assured now that the magazine has thousands of active friends, who are talking about it and telling others that it is the most beautiful and most inspiring periodical in the world. These friends can transform International Studio from an experiment into a confirmed fact. We ask their co-operation during the art season that is now to begin, and we promise to deserve their faith and their aid. <§><§><§> Probably there is no more fascinating subject in all art than antique tapestries. In Medieval times they expressed the Gothic spirit almost as well as did architecture. Later they reflected the transition from Gothic to Renaissance, and when the Renaissance got in full flower some ot its finest expressions were to be found in the regal tapestries that came from its looms. In the October number, Dr. Phyllis Ackerman will have the first of a series of eight articles under the general caption of “Tapestries of Five Centuries.” The first, which will carry two beautiful color plates of examples now in America, will be on “The French Gothic Looms,” and suc¬ ceeding articles will bring the subject through the eighteenth century. The reproductions for the whole series will be mainly of tapestries owned in this country. “In ancient times, when maids in thought were pure. When eyes were artless and the look demure, Then in the muff inactive fingers lay. Nor taught the Jan in fickle Jorms to play.” I he fan is made to play delightfully in Karl Freund’s contribution to the October number. Mr. Freund is one of those rare writers who combine erudition with a sense of humor, and his article, based on the collection of painted fans belonging to Mrs. William Randolph Hearst, contains information of unusual interest, and a wealth of amusing anecdote. It is illustrated by th ree plates in full color and many half tones, some ot them showing full-sized details of the fans. <§■<$><§> John J. Enneking was a New England painter by choice, and he found his fairest inspirations in the landscapes of that corner of our country and in his friendships with New England artists. Since his death, in 1916, there has sprung up a keener interest than ever before in the man and in his work, and Edward Baxter Closson has written for the October International Studio an illuminating article on the man and his pictures which explains his past and newly-lound vogue among amateur collectors. There will be a color reproduction of a typical Enneking landscape. <§> <§> Always mankind has needed a place to put things, and to meet that need was the chest evolved. Perhaps in appreciation of the utilitarian value of chests and coffers the greatest skill of artists and craftsmen was called upon to make them beautiful, until they became works of art in themselves, and are now becoming more and more important in decorative schemes. William B. M’Cormick has traced the evolution of the chest in an article appearing in October. <$> <§• <§> The most disquieting thing about people is that they refuse to stay put; just as you get them classified they turn out to be something quite different. One of the best known figures in American illustrating is Howard Chanler Christy, so well known that most people have labelled him “Illustrator” and set him in a niche. Air. Christy has refused to stay there, and has been painting some remarkable portraits, several of which — one in color — will be reproduced in October. Jive forty-eight SEPTEMBER I 9 2 2 SEPTEMBER I Q 2 2 International Studio R. C. & N. M. VOSE ESTABLISHED IN 1841 High Class PAINTINGS Early English American Barbizon Modern Dutch BOSTON 398 BOYLSTON STREET Ehrich Galleries 707 Fifth Avenue, at Fifty-fifth Street NEW YORK PAINTINGS by Old and Modem Masters Mrs. Ehrich’s Gallery 707 Fifth Avenue, New York Exhibition of OLD ENGLISH and ITALIAN FURNITURE VENETIAN GLASS ITALIAN LINENS Colored papers for tempera, water colors, pastels and crayons THE Mi-Teintes Papers give the artist and student unusual oppor¬ tunities in the study and applica¬ tion of color harmony. Using the paper as a background, a few strokes in contrast will give drawings of great originality. The surface of the A 4i- Teintes Papers lends itself readily to all techniques, and may be used with excellent results with water colors, pastels, Chinese white or crayons. Fifteen fast colors may be had, ranging from a delicate flesh to a stygian black. Sample sheets and book¬ lets showing color range on request. Canson & Montgolfier Manufacturers of French Papers A.61 Eighth Avenue New York WINSOR & NEWTON’S Mat Water Colors TRADE MARK' ARS PROBAT ARTIFICEM In Tubes and Pots rJTlESE colours will give the utmost degree of richness, com¬ patible with an even effect. For Poster work they take the place of Tempera. A colour chart will be sent on request Oil Colours, Oils, Varnishes, Brushes^ Easels, Canvas, Sketch Boxes, Sntocks, Illustration and Drawing Boards. Etching Materials, Sets, Tools and Instruction Books — write for circular Ask your dealer for our Colours or write for Art Catalog IN-q * Edition Limited to Fifty Proofs <$> M. Knoedler £>C Co. 556 Fifth Ave., New York J. BLOCKX OIL AND WATER COLORS The finest in the world and ARTISTS’ CANVAS, linen, 17 inches to 14 feet wide. Write for Lists SCHNEIDER 8C COMPANY, Inc., 2102 Broadway, New York City SOLE AGENTS [ xvi ] M. KNOEDLER & CO. PAINTINGS by OLD and MODERN MASTERS OLD ENGLISH MEZZOTINTS AND SPORTING PRINTS OLD AND MODERN ETCHINGS and ENGRAVINGS Class Restoring and PARIS 17 Place Vendome 556 FIFTH AVENUE NEW YORK LONDON 15 Old Bond Stteet DEMOTTE Works of Art of the Middle Ages De Luxe Art Publications in Limited Editions La Tapisserie Gothique Le Musee du Louvre: 19 14-1920 Les Chefs-D’Oeuvre du Portugal Les Dessins de Degas 2 7 rue de Berri Paris Etc. 8 East 57th Street New York 28^ 24 31 J ROBERT-L-ST1LLSON COMPANY-NEW YORK GETTY CENTER LIBRARY 3 3125 00457 1564