DOI article:
Stephen Haweis, 291
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.31336#0031
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understand that there are things worth striving for beyond the commercial
article, human or inanimate, that is produced by the world machine. His
dream is the only Reality.
To him come many strangers who have a wave of the sea in their hearts,
timidly, incredulously. They speculate upon the reason of his attitude, his
resources, principally because money is the keynote of most men’s character,
the motive if not the only result. But what he means to them, and Alfred
Stieglitz, the Photo-Secession, liberty of action and of desire are synonymous,
is the possibility of their own dreams coming true. In life you may be a
tramp and be perfectly respectable, you may be respectable without forfeit-
ing his respect. In art you may make bad photographs for sale, or magazine
covers for the Metropolitan, but you shall not believe yourself to be a creator
in art. You shall not deceive yourself or him that in preferring worldly
comforts to martyrdom you are doing a particularly noble work for the re-
generation of mankind. What an artist might regard as crime may be par-
donable; Stieglitz measures men by the weight of their sincerity, the motive
behind the crime or the creation. There are many paintings and drawings
by various men to be seen at “291” that have never and may never be seen
elsewhere. Who knows what this man may develop into? I have seen his
past work, I know the man is honest, what right have I to say his picture is
bad? I may not admire it myself, but he is not trying to imitate anybody;
he is seeking something, trying to express himself. Such a man should have
a chance to show his work whether it is complete or not. It may happen
that someone will see his work here and appreciate it. If not, no harm is
done.
Is novelty then the chief goal of “291 ”? Perhaps it is, in a sense, but it
must be new novelty. Is there nothing new under the sun? The gallery
can remain unhung and Stieglitz will not despair about it. What he shows,
you may see, but you are not compelled to look at. You are not invited to
buy, and if you should, Stieglitz will not be demonstrative in his joy. He is
glad for your sake, for the artist’s sake, pleased to have been the intermedi-
ary between you, but he is not interested in profit nor appalled by loss—the
standards of life are different in this gallery. Those who frequent it come
there to rest and gain strength to get the stream of lunatics outside under
better control, or to awaken in them again the ideals they forgot when they
arrived at years of discretion.
There are those who say, “The man’s mad, he only thinks he’s sane—I’m
sane,” as who should say, “Poor chap, he thinks he’s a teapot, so sad, now
Fm the only authentic teapot!”
But there are many who remember the longings of their green days,
whose eyes fill with tears as they admit he is right. “You do it,” they say
“go on but I—I daren’t.”
They are glad, however, to know that the doors of “291” are open—
glad to know that such a place exists somewhere.
Stephen Haweis
27
article, human or inanimate, that is produced by the world machine. His
dream is the only Reality.
To him come many strangers who have a wave of the sea in their hearts,
timidly, incredulously. They speculate upon the reason of his attitude, his
resources, principally because money is the keynote of most men’s character,
the motive if not the only result. But what he means to them, and Alfred
Stieglitz, the Photo-Secession, liberty of action and of desire are synonymous,
is the possibility of their own dreams coming true. In life you may be a
tramp and be perfectly respectable, you may be respectable without forfeit-
ing his respect. In art you may make bad photographs for sale, or magazine
covers for the Metropolitan, but you shall not believe yourself to be a creator
in art. You shall not deceive yourself or him that in preferring worldly
comforts to martyrdom you are doing a particularly noble work for the re-
generation of mankind. What an artist might regard as crime may be par-
donable; Stieglitz measures men by the weight of their sincerity, the motive
behind the crime or the creation. There are many paintings and drawings
by various men to be seen at “291” that have never and may never be seen
elsewhere. Who knows what this man may develop into? I have seen his
past work, I know the man is honest, what right have I to say his picture is
bad? I may not admire it myself, but he is not trying to imitate anybody;
he is seeking something, trying to express himself. Such a man should have
a chance to show his work whether it is complete or not. It may happen
that someone will see his work here and appreciate it. If not, no harm is
done.
Is novelty then the chief goal of “291 ”? Perhaps it is, in a sense, but it
must be new novelty. Is there nothing new under the sun? The gallery
can remain unhung and Stieglitz will not despair about it. What he shows,
you may see, but you are not compelled to look at. You are not invited to
buy, and if you should, Stieglitz will not be demonstrative in his joy. He is
glad for your sake, for the artist’s sake, pleased to have been the intermedi-
ary between you, but he is not interested in profit nor appalled by loss—the
standards of life are different in this gallery. Those who frequent it come
there to rest and gain strength to get the stream of lunatics outside under
better control, or to awaken in them again the ideals they forgot when they
arrived at years of discretion.
There are those who say, “The man’s mad, he only thinks he’s sane—I’m
sane,” as who should say, “Poor chap, he thinks he’s a teapot, so sad, now
Fm the only authentic teapot!”
But there are many who remember the longings of their green days,
whose eyes fill with tears as they admit he is right. “You do it,” they say
“go on but I—I daren’t.”
They are glad, however, to know that the doors of “291” are open—
glad to know that such a place exists somewhere.
Stephen Haweis
27
