DOI Heft:
No. 345 (December 1921)
DOI Artikel:Studio-talk
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.21393#0310
STUDIO-TALK
the Silence de la Niege of Fernand Khnopff, solemnity of dying day in winter—Mr.
and the Marechal Foch of Madame Munnings is one of the most intimate
Amelie Beaury-Saurel, came as from a landscape painters of to-day. He does
world where the responsive lyre is touched not represent, but realizes. He makes
rather than the piano organ handle turned, the sensation of things seen by him call
There was a very little of John Bull's to us in remembrance of similar things seen
other art-sculpture ; and some applied by us and physically felt. This is surely
art, miniatures and etchings, a 0 one of the most essential and rare poweis
And the general result i Art is a great an artist can possess. a 0 a
influence. So is an exhibition of pictures. Mr. G. Spencer Watson's The Story of
The sensations are different, however. Creation is an interesting work in a totally
When, as in most large shows we find different manner. It is definite in atmos-
ourselves sympathising with the Philistine phere, brilliant in colour, and slightly
who said that painting pictures was a formalistic. The treatment has the dignity
colossal waste of time, we should check necessary for the subject. We could do
our demoralization. Tea or whiskey and with more painters of religious subjects—
soda are specifics according to sex. A for religion has always produced the
preventive is tracking good work. One greatest art; unless, of course, we belong
can always find it, with determination, to the school of lop-sided logicians who
For instance, take Mr. Munnings's picture deny art a right to any subject—carrying
The Belvoir Hounds at Exercise. It is negation to the realms of nothing. a
brilliantly painted, but that is only one Again a contrast; a young person who
contributory factor to its general good- might (by the right critic) be described
ness. Oh dancing tails and doggy glories as " frightfully, awfully sweet—what i **
glancing through the mist ! And what sitting On the hill-top with her Pekingese
" HERE SHE COMES ! " OIL PAINT-
ING BY JACK B. YEATS, R.H.A.
(Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool)
294
the Silence de la Niege of Fernand Khnopff, solemnity of dying day in winter—Mr.
and the Marechal Foch of Madame Munnings is one of the most intimate
Amelie Beaury-Saurel, came as from a landscape painters of to-day. He does
world where the responsive lyre is touched not represent, but realizes. He makes
rather than the piano organ handle turned, the sensation of things seen by him call
There was a very little of John Bull's to us in remembrance of similar things seen
other art-sculpture ; and some applied by us and physically felt. This is surely
art, miniatures and etchings, a 0 one of the most essential and rare poweis
And the general result i Art is a great an artist can possess. a 0 a
influence. So is an exhibition of pictures. Mr. G. Spencer Watson's The Story of
The sensations are different, however. Creation is an interesting work in a totally
When, as in most large shows we find different manner. It is definite in atmos-
ourselves sympathising with the Philistine phere, brilliant in colour, and slightly
who said that painting pictures was a formalistic. The treatment has the dignity
colossal waste of time, we should check necessary for the subject. We could do
our demoralization. Tea or whiskey and with more painters of religious subjects—
soda are specifics according to sex. A for religion has always produced the
preventive is tracking good work. One greatest art; unless, of course, we belong
can always find it, with determination, to the school of lop-sided logicians who
For instance, take Mr. Munnings's picture deny art a right to any subject—carrying
The Belvoir Hounds at Exercise. It is negation to the realms of nothing. a
brilliantly painted, but that is only one Again a contrast; a young person who
contributory factor to its general good- might (by the right critic) be described
ness. Oh dancing tails and doggy glories as " frightfully, awfully sweet—what i **
glancing through the mist ! And what sitting On the hill-top with her Pekingese
" HERE SHE COMES ! " OIL PAINT-
ING BY JACK B. YEATS, R.H.A.
(Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool)
294