DOI Heft:
No. 229 (May 1912)
DOI Artikel:The lay figure: on looking at exhibitions
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.21156#0363
The Lay Figure
A-J-^HE LAY FIGURE: ON LOOK-
ING AT EXHIBITIONS
“ I often think that art exhibitions nowa-
days are getting very much overdone,” said the
Man with the Red Tie; “ there are such a lot of
them that they must be becoming quite a serious
tax both on artists and the public.”
“You might include the critics as well,” sighed
the Art Critic. “Just think what they suffer under
the modern craze for exhibitions, and what a mass
of stuff they have to examine year by year.”
“ Oh, I have no pity for the critics,” laughed the
Man with the Red Tie; “it is their business to go
and look at art shows, and to see what masterpieces
they can discover. I am thinking what a trouble
it must be to artists to keep the exhibitions supplied
and how weary the public must be getting of so
much art.”
“ But if artists did not wish to show their work
there would be no exhibitions,” broke in the Plain
Man; “and if the public did not go to see the
exhibitions these would die a natural death, so
evidently all these shows supply a want. You
cannot say they are overdone if there is a demand
for them all round.”
“ I am not so sure of that,” returned the Critic.
“ The appetite grows by what it feeds on, and an
excess of supply encourages a sort of gluttony. I
believe in a judicious abstemiousness in art as in
other things.”
“Would you deny to the artist opportunities for
putting his work before the public ? ” cried the
Plain Man. “ Would you withhold from intelligent
people a pleasure they keenly appreciate ? That
would surely be unfair. Besides, in that growth of
appetite that you seem to think so dangerous I see
nothing objectionable. To me it signifies a very
real increase in the popular interest in art.”
“ Oh, does it ? ” interrupted the Man with the
Red Tie. “ That is just where I fail entirely to
agree with you. Every one is becoming so bored
by the over-production cf art work that the
popular interest can only be excited by ex-
travagances and eccentricities which are destruc-
tive of all artistic sense and sanity. The jaded
taste requires strong stimulants.”
“ You have hit there upon a real truth,” remarked
the Critic. “That is the great evil of an excess of
exhibitions—people become so tired of art that is
simple and unpretentious that they lose the faculty
of appreciation and then they begin to crave
increasingly for new sensations and for novelty at
all costs. That way lies disaster.”
34°
“ But I am not demoralised by too much art,”
protested the Plain Man; “the more I see, the
more I learn, and the more capable I become of
iudging between different types of work.”
“ I am sorry to destroy a pleasant illusion,”
laughed the Critic ; “ but I am greatly afraid you
do not understand your own feelings. The proof
of it is in the growth and acceptance by the public
of a type of art work which is purely a product of
exhibitions. The serious, restrained, contemplative
art, which is the only kind that really counts, is
being driven from the field by showy, clever stuff
which has no sincerity and no intelligence. The
artist who is in earnest is being crowded out by
the dashing craftsman who cares nothing about
the mental qualities of his work and is concerned
only with the display of his manual dexterity.
For this you, and men like you, are to blame.”
“ How can I be? ” cried the Plain Man. “ I am
sure there is no one more conscientious than I am
in judging carefully everything in an exhibition;
and I go to all the important exhibitions too. I
am quite certain I miss nothing worth seeing.”
“ Good man ! ” chuckled the Man with the Red
Tie. “ Why, you must spend your whole life in the
study of art.”
“ That of course I cannot afford to do as I have
my own affairs to attend to,” replied the Plain
Man ; “ but art is the study of my leisure moments,
and I do devote to it a great amount of attention.
I can assure you I do not often make mistakes in
picking out the really clever things.”
“Ah! that is just it,” said the Critic. “You
pick out the clever things. But your leisure
moments are so few, and the important exhibitions
are unhappily so many, that you are unable to see
anything but what strikes you all of a heap as quite
amazingly clever. The sober simple things which
hide in corners and do not shout at you for atten-
tion never come within your view—you do not
even know they exist. And yet these are the real
achievements by which art is kept alive. They
represent the thought, the effort, and the accom-
plishment of the conscientious workers who seek
honestly to exalt their art rather than themselves.
You, as you run round from exhibition to exhibition
in search of clever things, have no time to dwell
upon the real works of art. You are befogged by
a jumble of impressions and it becomes impossible
for you to cultivate that quiet judgment which is
the foundation of all true discrimination. You are
tickled by cleverness if it is obvious enough, but
you have no understanding of art.”
The Lay Figure.
A-J-^HE LAY FIGURE: ON LOOK-
ING AT EXHIBITIONS
“ I often think that art exhibitions nowa-
days are getting very much overdone,” said the
Man with the Red Tie; “ there are such a lot of
them that they must be becoming quite a serious
tax both on artists and the public.”
“You might include the critics as well,” sighed
the Art Critic. “Just think what they suffer under
the modern craze for exhibitions, and what a mass
of stuff they have to examine year by year.”
“ Oh, I have no pity for the critics,” laughed the
Man with the Red Tie; “it is their business to go
and look at art shows, and to see what masterpieces
they can discover. I am thinking what a trouble
it must be to artists to keep the exhibitions supplied
and how weary the public must be getting of so
much art.”
“ But if artists did not wish to show their work
there would be no exhibitions,” broke in the Plain
Man; “and if the public did not go to see the
exhibitions these would die a natural death, so
evidently all these shows supply a want. You
cannot say they are overdone if there is a demand
for them all round.”
“ I am not so sure of that,” returned the Critic.
“ The appetite grows by what it feeds on, and an
excess of supply encourages a sort of gluttony. I
believe in a judicious abstemiousness in art as in
other things.”
“Would you deny to the artist opportunities for
putting his work before the public ? ” cried the
Plain Man. “ Would you withhold from intelligent
people a pleasure they keenly appreciate ? That
would surely be unfair. Besides, in that growth of
appetite that you seem to think so dangerous I see
nothing objectionable. To me it signifies a very
real increase in the popular interest in art.”
“ Oh, does it ? ” interrupted the Man with the
Red Tie. “ That is just where I fail entirely to
agree with you. Every one is becoming so bored
by the over-production cf art work that the
popular interest can only be excited by ex-
travagances and eccentricities which are destruc-
tive of all artistic sense and sanity. The jaded
taste requires strong stimulants.”
“ You have hit there upon a real truth,” remarked
the Critic. “That is the great evil of an excess of
exhibitions—people become so tired of art that is
simple and unpretentious that they lose the faculty
of appreciation and then they begin to crave
increasingly for new sensations and for novelty at
all costs. That way lies disaster.”
34°
“ But I am not demoralised by too much art,”
protested the Plain Man; “the more I see, the
more I learn, and the more capable I become of
iudging between different types of work.”
“ I am sorry to destroy a pleasant illusion,”
laughed the Critic ; “ but I am greatly afraid you
do not understand your own feelings. The proof
of it is in the growth and acceptance by the public
of a type of art work which is purely a product of
exhibitions. The serious, restrained, contemplative
art, which is the only kind that really counts, is
being driven from the field by showy, clever stuff
which has no sincerity and no intelligence. The
artist who is in earnest is being crowded out by
the dashing craftsman who cares nothing about
the mental qualities of his work and is concerned
only with the display of his manual dexterity.
For this you, and men like you, are to blame.”
“ How can I be? ” cried the Plain Man. “ I am
sure there is no one more conscientious than I am
in judging carefully everything in an exhibition;
and I go to all the important exhibitions too. I
am quite certain I miss nothing worth seeing.”
“ Good man ! ” chuckled the Man with the Red
Tie. “ Why, you must spend your whole life in the
study of art.”
“ That of course I cannot afford to do as I have
my own affairs to attend to,” replied the Plain
Man ; “ but art is the study of my leisure moments,
and I do devote to it a great amount of attention.
I can assure you I do not often make mistakes in
picking out the really clever things.”
“Ah! that is just it,” said the Critic. “You
pick out the clever things. But your leisure
moments are so few, and the important exhibitions
are unhappily so many, that you are unable to see
anything but what strikes you all of a heap as quite
amazingly clever. The sober simple things which
hide in corners and do not shout at you for atten-
tion never come within your view—you do not
even know they exist. And yet these are the real
achievements by which art is kept alive. They
represent the thought, the effort, and the accom-
plishment of the conscientious workers who seek
honestly to exalt their art rather than themselves.
You, as you run round from exhibition to exhibition
in search of clever things, have no time to dwell
upon the real works of art. You are befogged by
a jumble of impressions and it becomes impossible
for you to cultivate that quiet judgment which is
the foundation of all true discrimination. You are
tickled by cleverness if it is obvious enough, but
you have no understanding of art.”
The Lay Figure.