International studio (35.1908)

The Scrip

a kind of mystery in the landscape. The effect of
them corresponds to that of mystical incantations,
the words of which cannot be understood. They
are brushed thinly in with an umber tone and scum-
bled over with a kind of mauve, the picture being
apparently a study, although it may very well have
been carried as far as the artist desired. The char-
coal or chalk outlines show plainly and there are
sketchy lines in the foreground. The line is solemn
and somewhat slow rather than nervous and fiery,
and the masses of tone are nobly composed. Obvi-
ously the artist was bent primarily on rendering the
appeal of the place to his meditative mood before
introducing any detail, however significant. The
execution, whether one considers it that of a study
or not, is singularly satisfying. The thin scumble
of pigment expresses the artist’s intention much
more simply and delightfully than the heavier im-
pasto of many of the finished pictures of his middle
period.
To turn from this art to the art of E. Boulard is
to see a diametrically opposite temperament ex-
pressed with equal success. A woman sits writing
at a desk in front of a window, the lower panes of
which are stained glass. A tapestry is hung on the
wall. On the floor is a rug, the colors of which are
pink and blue. The woman’s gown is a dull rose-
color and there are dim gilt frames on the wall. All
the furnishings and ornaments of the room are dis-
criminated in character and texture with a dainty,
fastidious touch. The color scheme is delicately
worked out with well-considered repetitions and
variations. The whole resembles a formal bouquet
of carefully chosen flowers.
A very different type of interior is shown in the
picture by W. B. Tholen, one of the modern school
of Dutch painters, whose work is definite rather
than delicate, and who in this instance has painted
a child feeding a bird, silhouetted against a window.
The attitude is expressive, the pattern of light and
dark is good, and the subject makes the appeal of
intimacy, but in its especial surroundings the canvas
wears a look of clumsiness, due in part to the mo-
notony of the color and in part to the cursory draw-
ing of the child’s head.
If we add to these examples of modern painting
Gennaro Favai’s beautiful view of Ca Mosto, Ven-
ice, Ziigel’s superb Cattle and the two examples of
the work of Alexander Harrison and his brother,
Birge Harrison, the wide range of the new acces-
sions will be pretty thoroughly established. Favai’s
color scheme is startling. A green light falls on the
building, above bends a deep peacock-blue sky, the
foliage is red and red bricks show under the stucco

of the walls, there are blue and green reflections in
the water, and the black bulk of a gondola shows
dark against the red doorway. This rich harmony
of strong and positive hues avoids the garish only by
the precision with which the value of each color is
measured, but the result is triumphant and the ex-
quisite drawing of the architectural ornament adds
a touch of fineness that lends indescribable-distinc-
tion to the bold composition. Zirgel’s cattle meet
those of Troyon in merciless competition, display-
ing their astonishing beauty with so modest a tech-
nique as to elude the casual observer—but where in
any art can they be surpassed as animal portraiture
Mr. Alexander Harrison’s Boys Bathing and Mr.
Birge Harrison’s The Mirror are both interesting
examples that show the touch of an artist and an
artist’s vision, though with a higher regard for the
obvious than is betrayed in most of the paintings
mentioned above.
In this varied collection of pictures by artists
gifted in very diverse directions it is possible to dis-
cern at least one quality that is held by them in
common—that of reserve. There is no example of
glaring color or declamatory style. In each instance
the idea has been clearly conceived and the execution
is free from tricks of any kind. Nearly every exam-
ple possesses the virtue of a learned composition
and shows a respect on the part of the artist for the
special quality of his material; and there is no ab-
normal seeking for extravagant effects. To judge
art by such achievements would be to find it reti-
cent, quiet, with delicate moods and controlled
tastes, not a thing either of the market place or the
sanctuary, but intended preeminently for the com
noisseur’s gallery. If the Wilstach Collection is
fortunate enough to be able to keep to this standard
of taste in its accessions, it will soon become, if, in-
deed, it is not already, an important agent in that up-
lifting and refining of the community which art ac-
complishes. In the absence of great masterpieces a
museum cannot do better than to represent as fully
as possible the schools of art in different parts of the
world by the more serious and competent among
their members, and the opportunity to become
familiar with this art, which is secondary, if you like,
in relation to the mightiest works of the great ages,
but which is neither meretricious nor petty in any de-
gree, is an unquestionable advantage for any com-
munity. William Morris, whose power of self-ex-
pression was never at a loss, after defining the
quality of great art, added: “ This is the best art,
and who can deny that it is good for us all that it
should be at hand to stir the emotions. Yet its very
greatness makes it a thing to be handled carefully,

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