DOI Heft:
No. 374 (May 1924)
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.21399#0263
THE ART OF MR. A. J. MUNNINGS, A.R.A.
“ MARE AND FOAL.” BY
A. J. MUNNINGS, A.R.A.
Donoghue, and riders to hounds like Lord
Birkenhead and the Prince of Wales. In
order to do this he appears to have evolved
a technique which, while maintaining its
own flexibility in the handling of paint,
produces a result closely reminiscent of the
sporting prints issued in large numbers in
the early part of the last century. They used
to be seen in every country inn. Now they
are, the best of them, sought after by
collectors. a a a a a
They have certain very pleasant con-
ventions of drawing and colour. No man
ever drew for a sporting print a rider
coming towards him. Idiosyncrasies of that
kind can be safely left to the press photo-
grapher. But the carefully drawn side view,
with the horses and the men in pink and
the conventional landscape, is something
which is just as much a part of English
244
tradition as roast beef or the “ Pickwick
Papers." It is, I think, in this spirit that
Mr. Munnings does his equestrian por-
traits. Indeed, when you see a print of any
one of them—I saw one of the Prince of
Wales’s portrait, illustrated herewith, in a
shop window the other day—you are back
at once in the spirit of Surtees and his im-
mortal Mr. Jorrocks. It would hardly be
just to call these pictures portraits, for
though Mr. Munnings can paint gipsies
to the life when there are no horses about,
once let him see a horse and his pre-
occupation is evident. In portraits like these
of the Prince of Wales and Lord Birken-
head it is clear that humanity takes second
place. The picture is not of a man riding a
horse, but of a horse carrying a man. 0
It used to be a nineteenth century habit
that, when an artist acquired fame for the
“ MARE AND FOAL.” BY
A. J. MUNNINGS, A.R.A.
Donoghue, and riders to hounds like Lord
Birkenhead and the Prince of Wales. In
order to do this he appears to have evolved
a technique which, while maintaining its
own flexibility in the handling of paint,
produces a result closely reminiscent of the
sporting prints issued in large numbers in
the early part of the last century. They used
to be seen in every country inn. Now they
are, the best of them, sought after by
collectors. a a a a a
They have certain very pleasant con-
ventions of drawing and colour. No man
ever drew for a sporting print a rider
coming towards him. Idiosyncrasies of that
kind can be safely left to the press photo-
grapher. But the carefully drawn side view,
with the horses and the men in pink and
the conventional landscape, is something
which is just as much a part of English
244
tradition as roast beef or the “ Pickwick
Papers." It is, I think, in this spirit that
Mr. Munnings does his equestrian por-
traits. Indeed, when you see a print of any
one of them—I saw one of the Prince of
Wales’s portrait, illustrated herewith, in a
shop window the other day—you are back
at once in the spirit of Surtees and his im-
mortal Mr. Jorrocks. It would hardly be
just to call these pictures portraits, for
though Mr. Munnings can paint gipsies
to the life when there are no horses about,
once let him see a horse and his pre-
occupation is evident. In portraits like these
of the Prince of Wales and Lord Birken-
head it is clear that humanity takes second
place. The picture is not of a man riding a
horse, but of a horse carrying a man. 0
It used to be a nineteenth century habit
that, when an artist acquired fame for the