International studio (50.1913)

The Art of Alice Schille

THE MARKET BEGINS BY ALICE SCHILLE


catching the animation, the
very spirit of the sitter, rig-
idity of definition has seemed
comparatively inconse-
quent. Especially is this
true in the case of children,
their most prominent char-
acteristic being their insta-
bility, their effect of immi-
nent evanescence. This is
the kind of thing that defies
presentation in terms of irre-
proachable accuracy; is, in
fact, quite atrocious when so
rendered. One must strive
to give an impression of a
child. That is the only real
way out, a way that Miss
Schille has many times
shown the beauty of, as,
notably, in the life-size fig-
ure of little Constance that
was the brilliant passage in

sciously, but freshly, spontaneously, simply. And
because children are spontaneous and simple, she
invariably succeeded. But, just as it is regret-

a recent exhibition of the Woman’s Art Club
in New York and, later, in the charmingly
sympathetic portrait of the daughters of Mr.

table that so many people persist in considering

Frederick Schumacher.

Miss Schille as exclusively a water-colorist, so it

seems a little unfortunate that there are also a
number who complacently assume that she must
be satisfied to go on painting mothers and babies
forever. She is a painter of swarming streets and
lonely roads; of imposing churches and modest
cottages; of old men sitting, solitary, and of young
girls arrayed for Hymen’s celebration. Here you
may have your shriveled crone, mellow as a page
from some medieval book, casting sidelong,
roguish glances at the flamboyant parrot perched
on her back; and there, if you wish, is a wheatfield
made of pure gold, spotted with the strong figures
of laborers. And for each subject its own suitable
method of presentation; never the opprobrious
banale, always the exuberantly, the conscien-
tiously creative.
In her portraits, chiefly oils, she insists upon
effecting the same distinctiveness. Her people
are alive, intelligent, highly individual. Her com-
position is suitable and special. Her color is at
all times extremely melodious, vibrant with emo-
tion. If, as is now and then objected, one finds
occasional lapses from the straight and stupid
path of absolute draughtsmanship, this is through
no ignorance or inefficiency on the artist’s part,
but simply because, in the superb excitement of

BROKEN CLOUDS BY ALICE SCHILLE


XXXII