DOI Heft:
No. 60 (February, 1902)
DOI Artikel:American studio notes
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.22772#0372
American Studio Talk
A MERICAN STUDIO NOTES BY
/\ CHARLES H. CAFFIN.
Seventy-seventh Annual Exhibition of the
National Academy.
The exhibition of the National Academy now
being held in the Fine Arts Building seems to be
better than those of recent years. For, although
there are still many pictures which do not reach
the standard that should prevail in an exhibition of
this kind, — some of them contributed by Acade-
micians who have the privilege of sending what they
like without challenge, others accepted too leniently
by the jury, — yet there is a greater number this
year that repay attention. The senior society, in-
deed, appears to be creeping gradually towards the
position which it ought to occupy.
It is, perhaps, a little rash as well as futile to try
and signalize one picture as the most beautiful in
the exhibition; but the one which gave the most
enjoyment, which affected me both by the sincerity
of its method and by the deep seriousness that
informs it, was A Memory, by Ben Foster. It rep-
resents a spot in the beech forest as the twilight
gathers; sloping banks carpeted with green, from
which rise the gray trunks, like pillars, and a rivulet
flowing between soft layers of moss. The sky seen
through the masses of foliage is of a delicate prim-
rose hue, deepening to a golden amber on the
horizon. The light lingers on the water in a broad
reflection, but is paling on the moss and fading out
of the hollows of the wood. They seem dark at
first, but gradually the eye penetrates into their dim
recesses. A hush is over the whole scene ; a moist,
cool refreshment exudes from the rich green vege-
tation ; in the mystery of the gathering gloom the
gray trunks have a solemn suggestion, and the bene-
diction of rest descends upon the earth. Many
years of patient, earnest study of the forms and
construction of nature, always with the longing to
make them express the serious, soothing influence
with which nature impresses himself, have given Mr.
Foster a technical skill as subtle as it is thorough.
In this picture there is, first of all, the power of
good drawing, so that a big mood of nature has
been rendered with bigness of suggestion ; there is
also a beauty of color, broad and synthetic, a sono-
rousness of harmony with infinite intricacies of mod-
ulation, and over all the evidence of a deeply
earnest mind. Indeed, it is a noble picture.
Entirely different in character, though its charm
is due to much the same qualities as appear in the
previous picture, is November Morn, by Bruce
Crane. It is as diaphanous in its high scheme of
color as the other in its lower key is solid. A flare
of pale yellow mounts above the line of a low, level
hill, the browns and greens of which are still over-
spread with blue shadows. At the foot are faintly
visible some bushes with orange foliage; there is
also a drowsy looking gray shed, and then the
meadow stretches towards us, its shadows warming
to mauve as they are being gradually dispelled by
the faint, rosy light in the upper sky. There is a
trembling vibration in the sky and in the vaporous
atmosphere that veils without disguising the strong
earth below it. For the picture has been built from
the ground up, the construction of the hill and
meadow is fully realized, and the indistinct forms
are nevertheless drawn with sureness. One feels
this strong, serious underlay of honest work, so that
the delicate transparency of the air and light gains
by the support an effect of spirituality. We are
face to face with the purity and freshness, the gath-
ering invigoration of the early morning, and with a
picture-poem as sweetly melodious as it is earnest.
Allen B. Talcott is an unfamiliar name, but it is
one that will be looked for in subsequent exhibi-
tions, since the two landscapes signed with it are
both remarkably good. One of them is A Group
of Oak Trees, red and yellow in their autumn livery ;
and what one notices is less any particular individ-
uality of feeling than a most resolute and honest
craftsmanship. Both ground and trees have been
studied and comprehended, and stroke after stroke
is made to play its separate and necessary part in
the ensemble. There is no slurring over of the de-
tails of the problem, no jumping at a conclusion or
falling back upon our imaginations to help out the
intention. All is clearly realized and conscientiously
wrought out. And, I expect, most of us enjoy a
special feeling of exhilaration in the presence of
work of this kind, since it brings us in contact
with a strong determined personality; whereas the
sloppy painter, or the fuzzy-wuzzy one, is exasper-
ating, we feel him either to be lazy or to be playing
upon our credulity or good nature. Yet, personally,
I prefer Mr. Talcott’s other picture, Lord's Cove;
for in its golden glow of atmosphere, softening all
the outlines into a gentle dreaminess, I find more
evidence of temperament and not less of sturdy
ground work, although it is subordinated as a
motive. However, let us take the two pictures
together and in their difference admit that this
painter has demonstrated the possession of a versa-
tility of feeling and method which augurs well for his
lix
A MERICAN STUDIO NOTES BY
/\ CHARLES H. CAFFIN.
Seventy-seventh Annual Exhibition of the
National Academy.
The exhibition of the National Academy now
being held in the Fine Arts Building seems to be
better than those of recent years. For, although
there are still many pictures which do not reach
the standard that should prevail in an exhibition of
this kind, — some of them contributed by Acade-
micians who have the privilege of sending what they
like without challenge, others accepted too leniently
by the jury, — yet there is a greater number this
year that repay attention. The senior society, in-
deed, appears to be creeping gradually towards the
position which it ought to occupy.
It is, perhaps, a little rash as well as futile to try
and signalize one picture as the most beautiful in
the exhibition; but the one which gave the most
enjoyment, which affected me both by the sincerity
of its method and by the deep seriousness that
informs it, was A Memory, by Ben Foster. It rep-
resents a spot in the beech forest as the twilight
gathers; sloping banks carpeted with green, from
which rise the gray trunks, like pillars, and a rivulet
flowing between soft layers of moss. The sky seen
through the masses of foliage is of a delicate prim-
rose hue, deepening to a golden amber on the
horizon. The light lingers on the water in a broad
reflection, but is paling on the moss and fading out
of the hollows of the wood. They seem dark at
first, but gradually the eye penetrates into their dim
recesses. A hush is over the whole scene ; a moist,
cool refreshment exudes from the rich green vege-
tation ; in the mystery of the gathering gloom the
gray trunks have a solemn suggestion, and the bene-
diction of rest descends upon the earth. Many
years of patient, earnest study of the forms and
construction of nature, always with the longing to
make them express the serious, soothing influence
with which nature impresses himself, have given Mr.
Foster a technical skill as subtle as it is thorough.
In this picture there is, first of all, the power of
good drawing, so that a big mood of nature has
been rendered with bigness of suggestion ; there is
also a beauty of color, broad and synthetic, a sono-
rousness of harmony with infinite intricacies of mod-
ulation, and over all the evidence of a deeply
earnest mind. Indeed, it is a noble picture.
Entirely different in character, though its charm
is due to much the same qualities as appear in the
previous picture, is November Morn, by Bruce
Crane. It is as diaphanous in its high scheme of
color as the other in its lower key is solid. A flare
of pale yellow mounts above the line of a low, level
hill, the browns and greens of which are still over-
spread with blue shadows. At the foot are faintly
visible some bushes with orange foliage; there is
also a drowsy looking gray shed, and then the
meadow stretches towards us, its shadows warming
to mauve as they are being gradually dispelled by
the faint, rosy light in the upper sky. There is a
trembling vibration in the sky and in the vaporous
atmosphere that veils without disguising the strong
earth below it. For the picture has been built from
the ground up, the construction of the hill and
meadow is fully realized, and the indistinct forms
are nevertheless drawn with sureness. One feels
this strong, serious underlay of honest work, so that
the delicate transparency of the air and light gains
by the support an effect of spirituality. We are
face to face with the purity and freshness, the gath-
ering invigoration of the early morning, and with a
picture-poem as sweetly melodious as it is earnest.
Allen B. Talcott is an unfamiliar name, but it is
one that will be looked for in subsequent exhibi-
tions, since the two landscapes signed with it are
both remarkably good. One of them is A Group
of Oak Trees, red and yellow in their autumn livery ;
and what one notices is less any particular individ-
uality of feeling than a most resolute and honest
craftsmanship. Both ground and trees have been
studied and comprehended, and stroke after stroke
is made to play its separate and necessary part in
the ensemble. There is no slurring over of the de-
tails of the problem, no jumping at a conclusion or
falling back upon our imaginations to help out the
intention. All is clearly realized and conscientiously
wrought out. And, I expect, most of us enjoy a
special feeling of exhilaration in the presence of
work of this kind, since it brings us in contact
with a strong determined personality; whereas the
sloppy painter, or the fuzzy-wuzzy one, is exasper-
ating, we feel him either to be lazy or to be playing
upon our credulity or good nature. Yet, personally,
I prefer Mr. Talcott’s other picture, Lord's Cove;
for in its golden glow of atmosphere, softening all
the outlines into a gentle dreaminess, I find more
evidence of temperament and not less of sturdy
ground work, although it is subordinated as a
motive. However, let us take the two pictures
together and in their difference admit that this
painter has demonstrated the possession of a versa-
tility of feeling and method which augurs well for his
lix