Stttciio- Talk
BOOK-PLATE BY HAROLD NELSON
believe anyone grudges him his distinction except,
perhaps, some of those cynical friends who couple
an artist's downhill progress with this immunity
from the common lot of competition. Mr. Tuke
is, however, an artist of a peculiar personal bent,
and an unswerving allegiance to his ideals, so let
us hope these cynical friends will find in him an
exception to their rule. This year he has painted a
picture of the type which, I suppose, will be called
his classic style. It is a figure of Mercury, pausing
for a moment on a rocky shore, resting, I take it,
after some mighty flight. It has been objected to
me that Mr. Tuke's Greek personages are not
Greek; that his classic vein is not classic; that
they are just English men and girls posing as such.
And this always seems to me very trivial; Mr.
Tuke has his message as an artist, and that message
is not to help us to any visualising of Greek
mythology, but simply to give us pleasure in those
270
things that give him pleasure. The air, the sun,
the sea; he loves to watch sun-smitten flesh tones
contrasted with the changing ocean lines, and he
cares very little for the peg upon which to hang his
motive. If his figures are not Greek, well, neither
were the Old Masters Greek, nor were their Gospel
subjects in the least suggestive of the East. They
painted the men and women of their own land and
time with what art they might, and left the subject
to be discussed by the critics, and Mr. Tuke does
much the same. Whether or not I prefer his
frankly modern pictures is another story.
Mr. C. Napier Hemy is a fortunate man. His
house, his studios, his surroundings—but I am not
an interviewer, and so I will spare my readers the
envious pangs that they must experience if I were
to descant upon these things. Even, however, in
his pictures he is fortunate ; fortunate in his sub-
ject. Some men seek far afield for subjects, some
BOOK-PLATE BY HAROLD NELSON
EDITH A
KING5'
FORD. ^
BOOK-PLATE BY HAROLD NELSON
believe anyone grudges him his distinction except,
perhaps, some of those cynical friends who couple
an artist's downhill progress with this immunity
from the common lot of competition. Mr. Tuke
is, however, an artist of a peculiar personal bent,
and an unswerving allegiance to his ideals, so let
us hope these cynical friends will find in him an
exception to their rule. This year he has painted a
picture of the type which, I suppose, will be called
his classic style. It is a figure of Mercury, pausing
for a moment on a rocky shore, resting, I take it,
after some mighty flight. It has been objected to
me that Mr. Tuke's Greek personages are not
Greek; that his classic vein is not classic; that
they are just English men and girls posing as such.
And this always seems to me very trivial; Mr.
Tuke has his message as an artist, and that message
is not to help us to any visualising of Greek
mythology, but simply to give us pleasure in those
270
things that give him pleasure. The air, the sun,
the sea; he loves to watch sun-smitten flesh tones
contrasted with the changing ocean lines, and he
cares very little for the peg upon which to hang his
motive. If his figures are not Greek, well, neither
were the Old Masters Greek, nor were their Gospel
subjects in the least suggestive of the East. They
painted the men and women of their own land and
time with what art they might, and left the subject
to be discussed by the critics, and Mr. Tuke does
much the same. Whether or not I prefer his
frankly modern pictures is another story.
Mr. C. Napier Hemy is a fortunate man. His
house, his studios, his surroundings—but I am not
an interviewer, and so I will spare my readers the
envious pangs that they must experience if I were
to descant upon these things. Even, however, in
his pictures he is fortunate ; fortunate in his sub-
ject. Some men seek far afield for subjects, some
BOOK-PLATE BY HAROLD NELSON
EDITH A
KING5'
FORD. ^