The Recent IVork of Gilbert Bayes
Aldeburgh Memorial, The Water Cart, and, though
to a less obvious extent, The Fountain of the
Valkyries all belong to the class of good illus-
trations. Their merit is that they are illustra-
tions in terms of the material employed ; and,
in The Fountain of the Valkyries at any rate,
there are several materials
in the same work. In each
case the idea is illustrated
clearly and simply, with
the addition of appropriate
and easily understood em-
blems—as the corn and
wine in the Aldeburgh
Memorial—and both in
the general form of the
work and in technical
treatment the character
and habit of the material
is scrupulously observed.
It will be seen that in
liis translation of life into
terms of marble or bronze
or plaster, Mr. Bayes does
not depart very far from
a naturalistic treatment of
form. This is particularly
evident when the design
approaches the linear in
character—as in the Alde-
burgh Memorial and The
Water Cart. Personally I
would like to see the
translation carried further.
Whether the aim be illus-
tration or expression of an
idea, it seems to me that
the final effect should be
that the material itself had
conceived the subject; and
I can’t help feeling that
marble or plaster would
conceive things in rather
more formal terms than
Mr. Bay'es allows. Some
of his designs. The Water Cart, for example,
look rather applied to the material than con-
ceived in it. Nor need there be any loss of
intelligibility. It is astonishing what an amount
of simplification the ordinary person will stand
without losing reality', provided the artist keeps
a strong hold of essential form and at the same
time brings out the character of the material.
108
The child’s wooden horse on wheels, of the flat-
headed, barrel-bodied variety', is a good example.
But the degree of simplification preferred is
governed so much by the whole mental make-up
of the individual that it would be rash to
generalize. A great deal depends, too, on
whether the artist ap-
proached the art of sculp-
ture first as a designer or
as a craftsman in a par-
ticular substance. A man
who has graduated in the
stone-mason’s yard, so to
speak, will naturally trust
more to the material and
be content with only a
complimentary reference
to nature. In everything
done by Mr. Bayes there
is at least full recognition
of the material, and there
are hints that his progress
will be towards a bolder
faith in its idiomatic ex-
pression.
On the vexed question
whether or not the sculp-
tor should carve his own
stone or marble Mr. Bayes
takes the common-sense
view. The question is not
really so vital as might
appear. So long as the
work is conceived and
carried out in terms of
stone or marble carving
the question whether the
sculptor did it all himself
or employed assistants—
or even machinery—is
comparatively irrelevant.
Granting a preference for
naturalistic representation,
the handling of marble in
Romance, The Sea-King’s
Daughter, and The Fountain of the Valkyries is
characteristic enough. In bronze, as may be
seen in Sigurd and Artemis, sympathy with the
material is still more happily expressed. There
is full enjoymient of the plasticity of bronze and
its capacity for extension, but everything is
articulated and not merely fumbled into shape.
The Lectern for the Royal Savoy Chapel, in
Aldeburgh Memorial, The Water Cart, and, though
to a less obvious extent, The Fountain of the
Valkyries all belong to the class of good illus-
trations. Their merit is that they are illustra-
tions in terms of the material employed ; and,
in The Fountain of the Valkyries at any rate,
there are several materials
in the same work. In each
case the idea is illustrated
clearly and simply, with
the addition of appropriate
and easily understood em-
blems—as the corn and
wine in the Aldeburgh
Memorial—and both in
the general form of the
work and in technical
treatment the character
and habit of the material
is scrupulously observed.
It will be seen that in
liis translation of life into
terms of marble or bronze
or plaster, Mr. Bayes does
not depart very far from
a naturalistic treatment of
form. This is particularly
evident when the design
approaches the linear in
character—as in the Alde-
burgh Memorial and The
Water Cart. Personally I
would like to see the
translation carried further.
Whether the aim be illus-
tration or expression of an
idea, it seems to me that
the final effect should be
that the material itself had
conceived the subject; and
I can’t help feeling that
marble or plaster would
conceive things in rather
more formal terms than
Mr. Bay'es allows. Some
of his designs. The Water Cart, for example,
look rather applied to the material than con-
ceived in it. Nor need there be any loss of
intelligibility. It is astonishing what an amount
of simplification the ordinary person will stand
without losing reality', provided the artist keeps
a strong hold of essential form and at the same
time brings out the character of the material.
108
The child’s wooden horse on wheels, of the flat-
headed, barrel-bodied variety', is a good example.
But the degree of simplification preferred is
governed so much by the whole mental make-up
of the individual that it would be rash to
generalize. A great deal depends, too, on
whether the artist ap-
proached the art of sculp-
ture first as a designer or
as a craftsman in a par-
ticular substance. A man
who has graduated in the
stone-mason’s yard, so to
speak, will naturally trust
more to the material and
be content with only a
complimentary reference
to nature. In everything
done by Mr. Bayes there
is at least full recognition
of the material, and there
are hints that his progress
will be towards a bolder
faith in its idiomatic ex-
pression.
On the vexed question
whether or not the sculp-
tor should carve his own
stone or marble Mr. Bayes
takes the common-sense
view. The question is not
really so vital as might
appear. So long as the
work is conceived and
carried out in terms of
stone or marble carving
the question whether the
sculptor did it all himself
or employed assistants—
or even machinery—is
comparatively irrelevant.
Granting a preference for
naturalistic representation,
the handling of marble in
Romance, The Sea-King’s
Daughter, and The Fountain of the Valkyries is
characteristic enough. In bronze, as may be
seen in Sigurd and Artemis, sympathy with the
material is still more happily expressed. There
is full enjoymient of the plasticity of bronze and
its capacity for extension, but everything is
articulated and not merely fumbled into shape.
The Lectern for the Royal Savoy Chapel, in