into the water. Is there not something of the
first morning of creation in this picture, with its
joyous colour and its defiant spirit of youth and
happiness ? Everything is great, unitary, original
—rocks, sky, and sea—depicted in the very primary
principle of their existence.
Liljefors's works, as a whole, so rich and
varied, so inexhaustibly luxuriant and exuberant,
and yet without repetition, may be considered
as a mighty animal epos, animated by the varying
life of nature—the circuit of the seasons, the
wildness and delightfulness of the elements, the
eternally young, eternally the same feelings of love,
power, hunger. His imagination is filled with
knowledge of life, and never soars off into
indefinite dreamings. As artist he speaks to us
of Nature in the same way as the farmer, hunter,
or fisher, citing definite facts and observations.
The following statement, which I quote from
memory, is typical of his conception in this
respect:—
" We generally regard animals in the same way
that an inhabitant of Mars, suddenly transferred to
this earth, would regard human beings. He would
only notice the different races, types, castes, and
not the individuals. Neither do we see the animal
individuals, but it is just these which I try to
depict. I paint animal portraits."
He also admitted that the ignorance of the
public in regard to this sometimes grieved him,
and that it pleased him whenever he found anyone
who could see, for instance, how old one of his
young sea-fowl was. Now I do not believe that
the important thing is that the public should know
how old the young sea-fowl is, but that Liljefors does.
It is this knowledge that gives his works that con-
126
vincing stamp of life and truth which all of them
bear, even if it is not directly evident. The great
artist always knows more than he displays, while
the mediocre artist generally displays more than
he knows.
The above statement shows how intimately the
hunter, explorer of nature and natural scientist, are
in him united with the artist and painter. It even
sometimes happens that the novelty and sharpness
of his observation have detracted interest from the
artistic creation, that the zoologist has come to the
front at the expense of the artist; but this is the
exception. As a rule, his work is all an unbroken,
indissoluble unity between contents and form,
knowledge and inspiration.
This unity appears in an exceptional manner in
several bird-studies painted during the latest years,
in which the artist, however, has returned to the
intimate portrayal of detail, although with a
greater conception and a freer technique. It is a
bird, usually a wader (snipe or pool-snipe) in his
natural surroundings, a few tufts of grass and
sedge, a swamp, or the shore of a lake. The
" motif," or theme, is the bird's " protective dis-
guise," something which has interested the artist
ever since childhood, and this has been made use
of in an admirable manner for the artistic purpose.
The whole canvas is covered with a piece of
ground, without horizon, without sky, and the
coloristic interest is entirely concentrated upon the
harmony between the bird's plumage and the
summer or autumn garb of the earth.
Liljefors's coloristic talent—his purely technical
mastership—is great, but it does not play such an
important part with him as with his compatriot
Zorn. It obediently serves his intentions, but does
first morning of creation in this picture, with its
joyous colour and its defiant spirit of youth and
happiness ? Everything is great, unitary, original
—rocks, sky, and sea—depicted in the very primary
principle of their existence.
Liljefors's works, as a whole, so rich and
varied, so inexhaustibly luxuriant and exuberant,
and yet without repetition, may be considered
as a mighty animal epos, animated by the varying
life of nature—the circuit of the seasons, the
wildness and delightfulness of the elements, the
eternally young, eternally the same feelings of love,
power, hunger. His imagination is filled with
knowledge of life, and never soars off into
indefinite dreamings. As artist he speaks to us
of Nature in the same way as the farmer, hunter,
or fisher, citing definite facts and observations.
The following statement, which I quote from
memory, is typical of his conception in this
respect:—
" We generally regard animals in the same way
that an inhabitant of Mars, suddenly transferred to
this earth, would regard human beings. He would
only notice the different races, types, castes, and
not the individuals. Neither do we see the animal
individuals, but it is just these which I try to
depict. I paint animal portraits."
He also admitted that the ignorance of the
public in regard to this sometimes grieved him,
and that it pleased him whenever he found anyone
who could see, for instance, how old one of his
young sea-fowl was. Now I do not believe that
the important thing is that the public should know
how old the young sea-fowl is, but that Liljefors does.
It is this knowledge that gives his works that con-
126
vincing stamp of life and truth which all of them
bear, even if it is not directly evident. The great
artist always knows more than he displays, while
the mediocre artist generally displays more than
he knows.
The above statement shows how intimately the
hunter, explorer of nature and natural scientist, are
in him united with the artist and painter. It even
sometimes happens that the novelty and sharpness
of his observation have detracted interest from the
artistic creation, that the zoologist has come to the
front at the expense of the artist; but this is the
exception. As a rule, his work is all an unbroken,
indissoluble unity between contents and form,
knowledge and inspiration.
This unity appears in an exceptional manner in
several bird-studies painted during the latest years,
in which the artist, however, has returned to the
intimate portrayal of detail, although with a
greater conception and a freer technique. It is a
bird, usually a wader (snipe or pool-snipe) in his
natural surroundings, a few tufts of grass and
sedge, a swamp, or the shore of a lake. The
" motif," or theme, is the bird's " protective dis-
guise," something which has interested the artist
ever since childhood, and this has been made use
of in an admirable manner for the artistic purpose.
The whole canvas is covered with a piece of
ground, without horizon, without sky, and the
coloristic interest is entirely concentrated upon the
harmony between the bird's plumage and the
summer or autumn garb of the earth.
Liljefors's coloristic talent—his purely technical
mastership—is great, but it does not play such an
important part with him as with his compatriot
Zorn. It obediently serves his intentions, but does