DOI Heft:
No. 160 (July, 1906)
DOI Artikel:The lay figure: on little englandism in art
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.20715#0207
The Lay Figure
T
HE LAY FIGURE: ON LITTLE
ENGLANDISM IN ART.
“ Has it never struck you as a curious
thing that so many of our artists should be more
appreciated abroad than they are at home ? ” asked
the Art Critic. “ What does it mean ? Are we
incapable of understanding our best men, or is our
standard of taste higher than that of other
countries ? ”
“ There is, you may possibly remember, a
proverb about a prophet which fits the case fairly
well,” replied the Man with the Red Tie. “As
we have no standard of taste in art matters, I am
more inclined to put down the want of apprecia-
tion you complain about to our absence of
intelligence than to our superior judgment.”
“ But surely,” returned the Critic, “ it would
be more natural to expect a man to make a
reputation at home and among his own kith
and kin before he attracted the attention of
strangers.”
“ There is another proverb which fits that case
also,” laughed the Man with the Red Tie;
“familiarity breeds contempt. We may know
our great men too well, and we may in consequence
fail to take them seriously.”
“What nonsense!” cried the Popular Painter.
“ When an artist once succeeds in making himself
a real favourite with the British public there is no
country in the world where he is so loyally
supported and so sincerely admired. He becomes
a kind of national institution, and nothing can
affect his position in the art world.”
“Not even the failure of his powers,” said the
Man with the Red Tie; “ he can go on to the end
of the chapter producing things more and more
incapable, and his following will stick to him to
the last. But we were not talking, I think, about
popular favourites; we were discussing the good
artists.”
“ Are you still worrying over that exploded
superstition ? ” sighed the Popular Painter. “ Can
no favourite of the public be a good artist ?
Must the artist who gains popularity always be
contemptible ? ’’
“ He usually is,” said the Man with the Red
Tie, “because he makes a spurious success by
lowering himself to the level of the vulgar herd.
You can always be popular if you cheapen your-
self sufficiently and if you shed every atom of your
self respect.”
“ Gently ! ” cried the Critic, “you are overstating
your case. I did not say that no good artist could
186
ever persuade the British public to accept him
—that would be a ridiculous assertion to make.
What I was commenting upon was the foreign
approval of the work of artists whom we, who
ought to know them best, apparently estimate
at less than their true worth.”
“ I deny that we do underestimate them,” broke
in the Popular Painter. “ If an artist is worthy of
notice he will get it at home; if he is not he may
possibly get it abroad, but I say that he does not
deserve it anywhere.”
“ And I absolutely refuse to accept any such
argument,” cried the Man with the Red Tie.
“There are plenty of instances of British artists
remaining unknown in their own country until
someone discovered that they were looked upon
as masters by foreign experts. As a nation
we cannot make up our minds on artistic
matters without assistance; we have no standard
against which we can measure our convictions,
and we spend our whole time in hunting for
someone to tell us whom and what we ought to
admire.”
“ I think you have hit there upon the right
idea,” said the Critic. “ The whole thing is a
display of a sort of little-Englandism, of a kind of
mock-modesty which is really a result of our want
of sound art taste. We cannot bring ourselves to
believe, after we have been told so persistently'
that we are an inartistic nation, that this country
can produce great artists. We rave—insincerely,
no doubt—about the extraordinary ability of this
or that foreign painter who is justly honoured
and respected in his native land ; we invite artists
from abroad and pet them as if they were rare acqui-
sitions worthy of our most devoted worship ; and
all the while we fail to see that there are men as
great, or possibly greater, who have been born and
bred in this country. The foreign judge views our
art with less narrow vision and looks at our artists
with more impartiality; and happily he awakes us
at times to a knowledge of our neglect of our best
men. I am heartily grateful to him for the service
he does us, for he shames us into some semblance
of good taste and induces us to do a measure of
justice to able artists whom we have stupidly over-
looked. If he would permanently change out-
point of view he would do us the greatest service
of all. But, mind you, I do not want the
British public to substitute conceit for mock-
modesty, and to assume that there is no good art
to be found in any other country ; what we want
is an estimate that will be fair all round.”
The Lay Figure.
T
HE LAY FIGURE: ON LITTLE
ENGLANDISM IN ART.
“ Has it never struck you as a curious
thing that so many of our artists should be more
appreciated abroad than they are at home ? ” asked
the Art Critic. “ What does it mean ? Are we
incapable of understanding our best men, or is our
standard of taste higher than that of other
countries ? ”
“ There is, you may possibly remember, a
proverb about a prophet which fits the case fairly
well,” replied the Man with the Red Tie. “As
we have no standard of taste in art matters, I am
more inclined to put down the want of apprecia-
tion you complain about to our absence of
intelligence than to our superior judgment.”
“ But surely,” returned the Critic, “ it would
be more natural to expect a man to make a
reputation at home and among his own kith
and kin before he attracted the attention of
strangers.”
“ There is another proverb which fits that case
also,” laughed the Man with the Red Tie;
“familiarity breeds contempt. We may know
our great men too well, and we may in consequence
fail to take them seriously.”
“What nonsense!” cried the Popular Painter.
“ When an artist once succeeds in making himself
a real favourite with the British public there is no
country in the world where he is so loyally
supported and so sincerely admired. He becomes
a kind of national institution, and nothing can
affect his position in the art world.”
“Not even the failure of his powers,” said the
Man with the Red Tie; “ he can go on to the end
of the chapter producing things more and more
incapable, and his following will stick to him to
the last. But we were not talking, I think, about
popular favourites; we were discussing the good
artists.”
“ Are you still worrying over that exploded
superstition ? ” sighed the Popular Painter. “ Can
no favourite of the public be a good artist ?
Must the artist who gains popularity always be
contemptible ? ’’
“ He usually is,” said the Man with the Red
Tie, “because he makes a spurious success by
lowering himself to the level of the vulgar herd.
You can always be popular if you cheapen your-
self sufficiently and if you shed every atom of your
self respect.”
“ Gently ! ” cried the Critic, “you are overstating
your case. I did not say that no good artist could
186
ever persuade the British public to accept him
—that would be a ridiculous assertion to make.
What I was commenting upon was the foreign
approval of the work of artists whom we, who
ought to know them best, apparently estimate
at less than their true worth.”
“ I deny that we do underestimate them,” broke
in the Popular Painter. “ If an artist is worthy of
notice he will get it at home; if he is not he may
possibly get it abroad, but I say that he does not
deserve it anywhere.”
“ And I absolutely refuse to accept any such
argument,” cried the Man with the Red Tie.
“There are plenty of instances of British artists
remaining unknown in their own country until
someone discovered that they were looked upon
as masters by foreign experts. As a nation
we cannot make up our minds on artistic
matters without assistance; we have no standard
against which we can measure our convictions,
and we spend our whole time in hunting for
someone to tell us whom and what we ought to
admire.”
“ I think you have hit there upon the right
idea,” said the Critic. “ The whole thing is a
display of a sort of little-Englandism, of a kind of
mock-modesty which is really a result of our want
of sound art taste. We cannot bring ourselves to
believe, after we have been told so persistently'
that we are an inartistic nation, that this country
can produce great artists. We rave—insincerely,
no doubt—about the extraordinary ability of this
or that foreign painter who is justly honoured
and respected in his native land ; we invite artists
from abroad and pet them as if they were rare acqui-
sitions worthy of our most devoted worship ; and
all the while we fail to see that there are men as
great, or possibly greater, who have been born and
bred in this country. The foreign judge views our
art with less narrow vision and looks at our artists
with more impartiality; and happily he awakes us
at times to a knowledge of our neglect of our best
men. I am heartily grateful to him for the service
he does us, for he shames us into some semblance
of good taste and induces us to do a measure of
justice to able artists whom we have stupidly over-
looked. If he would permanently change out-
point of view he would do us the greatest service
of all. But, mind you, I do not want the
British public to substitute conceit for mock-
modesty, and to assume that there is no good art
to be found in any other country ; what we want
is an estimate that will be fair all round.”
The Lay Figure.