DOI Heft:
Nr. 179 (February 1908)
DOI Artikel:The lay figure
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.20777#0105
The Lay Figure
T
HE LAY FIGURE: ON
ART OF YESTERDAY.
THE
“ I wonder why the art of the early-
Victorian period was so unusually bad,” said the
Journalist. “It seejns curious that the whole
artistic achievement of the country should have
gone to pieces then, apparently for no reason
whatever. How do you account for it ? ”
“ Who says it was bad ? ” enquired the Man
with the Red Tie.
“ Everyone says so,” replied the Journalist; “all
authorities agree that there never was a time when
British art was in such a hopeless condition or so
undeserving of serious consideration.”
“You mean that all the members of your pro-
fession agree in making this mis statement,” laughed
the Man with the Red Tie ; “ the men who know
something about our art history do not commit
themselves to such a foolish assertion.”
“ Do you really mean that you are disposed to
defend early-Victorian art?” asked the Journalist.
“You are indeed a bold man! Who, do you
think, would be prepared to agree with you ? ”
“ I will, for one,” broke in the Art Critic. “ I
am quite ready to argue that in some at least of
its phases the art of that period was as great as
any that this country has produced, and that
among the early-Victorian artists were counted
some of our greatest masters.”
“You make reservations, I notice,” said the
Journalist; “you say, ‘in some of its phases’—
what do you mean by that ? ”
“ I mean that at the time to which you refer,”
answered the Critic, “the decorative arts were
certainly not flourishing and sculpture was domi-
nated by a very , unintelligent convention ; but
painting, on the other hand, was full of splendid
vitality and .was being practised by many able men
—some of whom were of more than common
distinction.”
“ Oh, surely not ! ” cried the Journalist. “Just
look at the prices the pictures of that period fetch
now when they come up at auction. If they were
such masterpieces as you suggest they would be
more highly valued to-day.”
“You can never get away from the idea that the
commercial value of a work of art is fixed by its
merit,” interrupted the Man with the Red Tie.
“ How little you understand the popular point of
view! It is just the other way about: the better
the work the less it will fetch, unless it happens to
be in the fashion—then it will always go for a good
price, whether it is good or bad.”
86
“ There you are right,” said the Critic : “fashion
is the chief factor by which sale-room prices are
determined ; the merit of the things offered is a
minor detail. The chief reason why so many of
the early-Victorian pictures are practically a drug
in the present-day market is that they are out of
fashion, or rather, I should say, have not yet come
into fashion. Two or three generations hence
they will be keenly sought after and prices will then
go up.”
“ But why should they not be in fashion if they
are as good as you say they are ? ” asked the
Journalist. “ It seems to me that there is a want
of logic in your argument. Good things ought
always to be in fashion.”
“ Good things ought to be, no doubt,” replied
the Critic, “ but unfortunately they hardly ever are,
unless they are old. Fashion is strangely undis-
criminating, oddly prone to be swayed by absurd
trifles, and it is to a very trivial and absurd cause
that is due this disparaging attitude assumed by
you, and by many people like you, towards early-
Victorian art.”
“ Go on ; tell me how you account for it,” said
the Journalist. “ I want to know.”
“ Well, it involves a paradox,” returned the Critic.
“ This art of yesterday is condemned as old-
fashioned because the fashion of it is actually not
old enough. Many of us can remember our
grandmothers garbed in early-Victorian costume
and with hair dressed in the early-Victorian man
ner, and we feel a kind of annoyance when we see
pictures of young girls in clothes which we associate
with aged dames or of classic nymphs with the
grandmotherly ringlets. But when we go back to
Reynolds or Gainsborough, and find a fashion we
do not remember, this imaginary incongruity ceases
to offend our taste ; and when we go further back
still we can discover nothing to object to in paint-
ings like those of Paul Veronese, which represent
classic or Biblical scenes with figures dressed in the
costumes of the painter’s own period. That period,
you see, is so remote that it has an interest for us,
and we feel a kind of gratitude towards the artist
who shows us what the world was like when he
lived. Yet, if to be old-fashioned is an artistic
defect, this art . of centuries ago, produced by
masters long dead, is more to be condemned
than that of the masters of yesterday—it is cer-
tainly far older in fashion. It is really no want
of merit in the art of half-a-century ago that
causes us to treat it with such absurdly exaggerated
scorn ; its main fault is that it is too new.”
The r ay Figure,
T
HE LAY FIGURE: ON
ART OF YESTERDAY.
THE
“ I wonder why the art of the early-
Victorian period was so unusually bad,” said the
Journalist. “It seejns curious that the whole
artistic achievement of the country should have
gone to pieces then, apparently for no reason
whatever. How do you account for it ? ”
“ Who says it was bad ? ” enquired the Man
with the Red Tie.
“ Everyone says so,” replied the Journalist; “all
authorities agree that there never was a time when
British art was in such a hopeless condition or so
undeserving of serious consideration.”
“You mean that all the members of your pro-
fession agree in making this mis statement,” laughed
the Man with the Red Tie ; “ the men who know
something about our art history do not commit
themselves to such a foolish assertion.”
“ Do you really mean that you are disposed to
defend early-Victorian art?” asked the Journalist.
“You are indeed a bold man! Who, do you
think, would be prepared to agree with you ? ”
“ I will, for one,” broke in the Art Critic. “ I
am quite ready to argue that in some at least of
its phases the art of that period was as great as
any that this country has produced, and that
among the early-Victorian artists were counted
some of our greatest masters.”
“You make reservations, I notice,” said the
Journalist; “you say, ‘in some of its phases’—
what do you mean by that ? ”
“ I mean that at the time to which you refer,”
answered the Critic, “the decorative arts were
certainly not flourishing and sculpture was domi-
nated by a very , unintelligent convention ; but
painting, on the other hand, was full of splendid
vitality and .was being practised by many able men
—some of whom were of more than common
distinction.”
“ Oh, surely not ! ” cried the Journalist. “Just
look at the prices the pictures of that period fetch
now when they come up at auction. If they were
such masterpieces as you suggest they would be
more highly valued to-day.”
“You can never get away from the idea that the
commercial value of a work of art is fixed by its
merit,” interrupted the Man with the Red Tie.
“ How little you understand the popular point of
view! It is just the other way about: the better
the work the less it will fetch, unless it happens to
be in the fashion—then it will always go for a good
price, whether it is good or bad.”
86
“ There you are right,” said the Critic : “fashion
is the chief factor by which sale-room prices are
determined ; the merit of the things offered is a
minor detail. The chief reason why so many of
the early-Victorian pictures are practically a drug
in the present-day market is that they are out of
fashion, or rather, I should say, have not yet come
into fashion. Two or three generations hence
they will be keenly sought after and prices will then
go up.”
“ But why should they not be in fashion if they
are as good as you say they are ? ” asked the
Journalist. “ It seems to me that there is a want
of logic in your argument. Good things ought
always to be in fashion.”
“ Good things ought to be, no doubt,” replied
the Critic, “ but unfortunately they hardly ever are,
unless they are old. Fashion is strangely undis-
criminating, oddly prone to be swayed by absurd
trifles, and it is to a very trivial and absurd cause
that is due this disparaging attitude assumed by
you, and by many people like you, towards early-
Victorian art.”
“ Go on ; tell me how you account for it,” said
the Journalist. “ I want to know.”
“ Well, it involves a paradox,” returned the Critic.
“ This art of yesterday is condemned as old-
fashioned because the fashion of it is actually not
old enough. Many of us can remember our
grandmothers garbed in early-Victorian costume
and with hair dressed in the early-Victorian man
ner, and we feel a kind of annoyance when we see
pictures of young girls in clothes which we associate
with aged dames or of classic nymphs with the
grandmotherly ringlets. But when we go back to
Reynolds or Gainsborough, and find a fashion we
do not remember, this imaginary incongruity ceases
to offend our taste ; and when we go further back
still we can discover nothing to object to in paint-
ings like those of Paul Veronese, which represent
classic or Biblical scenes with figures dressed in the
costumes of the painter’s own period. That period,
you see, is so remote that it has an interest for us,
and we feel a kind of gratitude towards the artist
who shows us what the world was like when he
lived. Yet, if to be old-fashioned is an artistic
defect, this art . of centuries ago, produced by
masters long dead, is more to be condemned
than that of the masters of yesterday—it is cer-
tainly far older in fashion. It is really no want
of merit in the art of half-a-century ago that
causes us to treat it with such absurdly exaggerated
scorn ; its main fault is that it is too new.”
The r ay Figure,