DOI issue:
No. 270 (September 1915)
DOI article:Cournos, John: Three painters of the New York School
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.21213#0262
Three Painters of the New York School
grey motif, with variations upon the theme. Every-
thing in this canvas is grey—shawl, dress and
background are attractively gradated like musical
tones, which attain their crescendo in a single
splash of black that forms the hat. The astonish-
ing thing is the way the artist has caught the
psychology of a mood, a mood all the more
poignant because the method of presenting it is
indefinably indissoluble from the mood itself; like
a poem by Verlaine, which read aloud conveys as
much by its onomatopoeia as by its content.
The prolific brush of Luks has painted other
canvases little less notable than these. There is
the Old Clothes Man, impressive for its dignity of
composition, its lustre of colour, and above all for
its character. How shrewdly human the old man’s
eyes; the American street urchin would call him
“a wise guy”; that is, a
wiseacre, a merchant good
at driving a bargain, and
with just a slight suggestion
of PEsop in his make-up.
A jolly and tender picture
is The Guitar, which shows
a happy father and chubby
infant absorbed in the
familiar musical instrument,
an excellent piece of still-
life, by the way. To the
same category belongs the
Child and Doll, in which we
make an incidental dis-
covery ; even a rag doll can
have a soul. One could go
on indefinitely describing
vigorous canvases of this
painter, whose landscapes
are hardly less distinguished
than his genre; there is
something in them all
peculiarly akin to the
painter’s genial, frank per-
sonality, and there is some-
thing in his best work which
tells us that love of the
subject is essential to his art.
Mr. George Bellows, a
pupil of Mr. Henri, and
one of the youngest of the
New York group, is
primarily an artist of energy.
Picturesque American
terminology would de-
scribe his art as having
242
“ breeziness,” “ snap,” “plenty of go,” “red blood,”
“gumption,” etc. The artist himself gives us
valuable critical assistance when he declares that he
aims at “manliness, frankness, and love of the
game,” and again when he tells us that he is
interested in “ the steam and the sweat of the
streets.” And so he loves to paint the prize fight,
the polo game, the circus, children swimming—-
anything that has in it life, joyousness, action, the
movement of humans at play. In more sober
mood he paints labourers excavating, the traffic of
the streets, the men at the docks, and like scenes
of manly exertion. He indeed seems to illustrate
a single phase of Walt Whitman, that phase which
sees glory in all bodily movement. Mr. Bellows
himself will tell you bluntly that the end he has
in view is not beauty—as beauty is understood
“the spielers
BY GEORGE B. LUKS
grey motif, with variations upon the theme. Every-
thing in this canvas is grey—shawl, dress and
background are attractively gradated like musical
tones, which attain their crescendo in a single
splash of black that forms the hat. The astonish-
ing thing is the way the artist has caught the
psychology of a mood, a mood all the more
poignant because the method of presenting it is
indefinably indissoluble from the mood itself; like
a poem by Verlaine, which read aloud conveys as
much by its onomatopoeia as by its content.
The prolific brush of Luks has painted other
canvases little less notable than these. There is
the Old Clothes Man, impressive for its dignity of
composition, its lustre of colour, and above all for
its character. How shrewdly human the old man’s
eyes; the American street urchin would call him
“a wise guy”; that is, a
wiseacre, a merchant good
at driving a bargain, and
with just a slight suggestion
of PEsop in his make-up.
A jolly and tender picture
is The Guitar, which shows
a happy father and chubby
infant absorbed in the
familiar musical instrument,
an excellent piece of still-
life, by the way. To the
same category belongs the
Child and Doll, in which we
make an incidental dis-
covery ; even a rag doll can
have a soul. One could go
on indefinitely describing
vigorous canvases of this
painter, whose landscapes
are hardly less distinguished
than his genre; there is
something in them all
peculiarly akin to the
painter’s genial, frank per-
sonality, and there is some-
thing in his best work which
tells us that love of the
subject is essential to his art.
Mr. George Bellows, a
pupil of Mr. Henri, and
one of the youngest of the
New York group, is
primarily an artist of energy.
Picturesque American
terminology would de-
scribe his art as having
242
“ breeziness,” “ snap,” “plenty of go,” “red blood,”
“gumption,” etc. The artist himself gives us
valuable critical assistance when he declares that he
aims at “manliness, frankness, and love of the
game,” and again when he tells us that he is
interested in “ the steam and the sweat of the
streets.” And so he loves to paint the prize fight,
the polo game, the circus, children swimming—-
anything that has in it life, joyousness, action, the
movement of humans at play. In more sober
mood he paints labourers excavating, the traffic of
the streets, the men at the docks, and like scenes
of manly exertion. He indeed seems to illustrate
a single phase of Walt Whitman, that phase which
sees glory in all bodily movement. Mr. Bellows
himself will tell you bluntly that the end he has
in view is not beauty—as beauty is understood
“the spielers
BY GEORGE B. LUKS