essays and lectures-第24章

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aspect　of　a　great　English　city；　he　draws　for　us　a　picture　of　what

were　the　artistic　surroundings　long　ago。



Think；　he　says；　in　words　of　perfect　and　picturesque　imagery；　whose

beauty　I　can　but　feebly　echo；　think　of　what　was　the　scene　which

presented　itself；　in　his　afternoon　walk；　to　a　designer　of　the

Gothic　school　of　Pisa　…　Nino　Pisano　or　any　of　his　men　（22）：





On　each　side　of　a　bright　river　he　saw　rise　a　line　of　brighter

palaces；　arched　and　pillared；　and　inlaid　with　deep　red　porphyry；

and　with　serpentine；　along　the　quays　before　their　gates　were　riding

troops　of　knights；　noble　in　face　and　form；　dazzling　in　crest　and

shield；　horse　and　man　one　labyrinth　of　quaint　colour　and　gleaming

light　…　the　purple；　and　silver；　and　scarlet　fringes　flowing　over

the　strong　limbs　and　clashing　mall；　like　sea…waves　over　rocks　at

sunset。　　Opening　on　each　side　from　the　river　were　gardens；　courts；

and　cloisters；　long　successions　of　white　pillars　among　wreaths　of

vine；　leaping　of　fountains　through　buds　of　pomegranate　and　orange：

and　still　along　the　garden…paths；　and　under　and　through　the　crimson

of　the　pomegranate　shadows；　moving　slowly；　groups　of　the　fairest

women　that　Italy　ever　saw　…　fairest；　because　purest　and

thoughtfullest；　trained　in　all　high　knowledge；　as　in　all　courteous

art　…　in　dance；　in　song；　in　sweet　wit；　in　lofty　learning；　in

loftier　courage；　in　loftiest　love　…　able　alike　to　cheer；　to

enchant；　or　save；　the　souls　of　men。　　Above　all　this　scenery　of

perfect　human　life；　rose　dome　and　bell…tower；　burning　with　white

alabaster　and　gold：　　beyond　dome　and　bell…tower　the　slopes　of

mighty　hills　hoary　with　olive；　far　in　the　north；　above　a　purple　sea

of　peaks　of　solemn　Apennine；　the　clear；　sharp…cloven　Carrara

mountains　sent　up　their　steadfast　flames　of　marble　summit　into

amber　sky；　the　great　sea　itself；　scorching　with　expanse　of　light；

stretching　from　their　feet　to　the　Gorgonian　isles；　and　over　all

these；　ever　present；　near　or　far　…　seen　through　the　leaves　of　vine；

or　imaged　with　all　its　march　of　clouds　in　the　Arno's　stream；　or　set

with　its　depth　of　blue　close　against　the　golden　hair　and　burning

cheek　of　lady　and　knight；　…　that　untroubled　and　sacred　sky；　which

was　to　all　men；　in　those　days　of　innocent　faith；　indeed　the

unquestioned　abode　of　spirits；　as　the　earth　was　of　men；　and　which

opened　straight　through　its　gates　of　cloud　and　veils　of　dew　into

the　awfulness　of　the　eternal　world；　…　a　heaven　in　which　every　cloud

that　passed　was　literally　the　chariot　of　an　angel；　and　every　ray　of

its　Evening　and　Morning　streamed　from　the　throne　of　God。



What　think　you　of　that　for　a　school　of　design？





And　then　look　at　the　depressing；　monotonous　appearance　of　any

modern　city；　the　sombre　dress　of　men　and　women；　the　meaningless　and

barren　architecture；　the　colourless　and　dreadful　surroundings。

Without　a　beautiful　national　life；　not　sculpture　merely；　but　all

the　arts　will　die。



Well；　as　regards　the　religious　feeling　of　the　close　of　the　passage；

I　do　not　think　I　need　speak　about　that。　　Religion　springs　from

religious　feeling；　art　from　artistic　feeling：　　you　never　get　one

from　the　other；　unless　you　have　the　right　root　you　will　not　get　the

right　flower；　and；　if　a　man　sees　in　a　cloud　the　chariot　of　an

angel；　he　will　probably　paint　it　very　unlike　a　cloud。



But；　as　regards　the　general　idea　of　the　early　part　of　that　lovely

bit　of　prose；　is　it　really　true　that　beautiful　surroundings　are

necessary　for　the　artist？　　I　think　not；　I　am　sure　not。　　Indeed；　to

me　the　most　inartistic　thing　in　this　age　of　ours　is　not　the

indifference　of　the　public　to　beautiful　things；　but　the

indifference　of　the　artist　to　the　things　that　are　called　ugly。

For；　to　the　real　artist；　nothing　is　beautiful　or　ugly　in　itself　at

all。　　With　the　facts　of　the　object　he　has　nothing　to　do；　but　with

its　appearance　only；　and　appearance　is　a　matter　of　light　and　shade；

of　masses；　of　position；　and　of　value。



Appearance　is；　in　fact；　a　matter　of　effect　merely；　and　it　is　with

the　effects　of　nature　that　you　have　to　deal；　not　with　the　real

condition　of　the　object。　　What　you；　as　painters；　have　to　paint　is

not　things　as　they　are　but　things　as　they　seem　to　be；　not　things　as

they　are　but　things　as　they　are　not。



No　object　is　so　ugly　that；　under　certain　conditions　of　light　and

shade；　or　proximity　to　other　things；　it　will　not　look　beautiful；　no

object　is　so　beautiful　that；　under　certain　conditions；　it　will　not

look　ugly。　　I　believe　that　in　every　twenty…four　hours　what　is

beautiful　looks　ugly；　and　what　is　ugly　looks　beautiful；　once。



And；　the　commonplace　character　of　so　much　of　our　English　painting

seems　to　me　due　to　the　fact　that　so　many　of　our　young　artists　look

merely　at　what　we　may　call　'ready…made　beauty；'　whereas　you　exist

as　artists　not　to　copy　beauty　but　to　create　it　in　your　art；　to　wait

and　watch　for　it　in　nature。



What　would　you　say　of　a　dramatist　who　would　take　nobody　but

virtuous　people　as　characters　in　his　play？　　Would　you　not　say　he

was　missing　half　of　life？　　Well；　of　the　young　artist　who　paints

nothing　but　beautiful　things；　I　say　he　misses　one　half　of　the

world。



Do　not　wait　for　life　to　be　picturesque；　but　try　and　see　life　under

picturesque　conditions。　　These　conditions　you　can　create　for

yourself　in　your　studio；　for　they　are　merely　conditions　of　light。

In　nature；　you　must　wait　for　them；　watch　for　them；　choose　them；

and；　if　you　wait　and　watch；　come　they　will。



In　Gower　Street　at　night　you　may　see　a　letter…box　that　is

picturesque：　　on　the　Thames　Embankment　you　may　see　picturesque

policemen。　　Even　Venice　is　not　always　beautiful；　nor　France。



To　paint　what　you　see　is　a　good　rule　in　art；　but　to　see　what　is

worth　painting　is　better。　　See　life　under　pictorial　conditions。　　It

is　better　to　live　in　a　city　of　changeable　weather　than　in　a　city　of

lovely　surroundings。



Now；　having　seen　what　makes　the　artist；　and　what　the　artist　makes；

who　is　the　artist？　　There　is　a　man　living　amongst　us　who　unites　in

himself　all　the　qualities　of　the　noblest　art；　whose　work　is　a　joy

for　all　time；　who　is；　himself；　a　master　of　all　time。　　That　man　is

Mr。　Whistler。



*　*　*　*　*　*　*　*



But；　you　will　say；　modern　dress；　that　is　bad。　　If　you　cannot　paint

black　cloth　you　could　not　have　painted　silken　doublet。　　Ugly　dress

is　better　for　art　…　facts　of　vision；　not　of　the　object。



What　is　a　picture？　　Primarily；　a　picture　is　a　beautifully　coloured

surface；　merely；　with　no　more　spiritual　message　or　meaning　for　you

than　an　exquisite　fragment　of　Venetian　glass　or　a　blue　tile　from

the　wall　of　Damascus。　　It　is；　primarily；　a　purely　decorative　thing；

a　delight　to　look　at。



All　archaeological　pictures　that　make　you　say　'How　curious！'　all

sentimental　pictures　that　make　you　say；　'How　sad！'　all　historical

pictures　that　make　you　say　'How　interesting！'　all　pictures　that　do

not　immediately　give　you　such　artistic　joy　as　to　make　you　say　'How

beautiful！'　are　bad　pictures。



*　*　*　*　*　*　*　*



We　never　know　what　an　artist　is　going　to　do。　　Of　course　not。　　The

artist　is　not　a　specialist。　　All　such　divisions　as　animal　painters；

landscape　painters；　painters　of　Scotch　cattle　in　an　English　mist；

painters　of　English　cattle　in　a　Scotch　mist；　racehorse　painters；

bull…terrier　painters；　all　are　shallow。　　If　a　man　is　an　artist　he

can　paint　everything。



The　object　of　art　is　to　stir　the　most　divine　and　remote　of　the

chords　which　make　music　in　our　soul；　and　colour　is　indeed；　of

itself　a　mystical　presence　on　things；　and　tone　a　kind　of　sentinel。



Am　I　pleading；　then；　for　mere　technique？　　No。　　As　long　as　there　are

any　signs　of　technique　at　all；　the　picture　is　unfinished。　　What　is

finish？　　A　picture　is　finished　when　all　traces　of　work；　and　of　the

means　employed　to　bring　about　the　result；　have　disappeared。



In　the　case　of　handicraftsmen　…　the　weaver；　the　potter；　the　smith　…

on　their　work　are　the　traces　of　their　hand。　　But　it　is　not　so　with

the　painter；　it　is　not　so　with　the　artist。



Art　should　have　no　sentiment　about　it　but　its　beauty；　no　technique

except　what　you　cannot　observe。　　One　should　be　able　to　say　of　a

picture　not　that　it　is　'well　painted；'　but　that　it　is　'not

painted。'



What　is　the　difference　between　absolutely　decorative　art　and　a

painting？　　Decorative　art　emphasises　its　material：　　imaginative　art

annihilates　it。　　Tapestry　shows　its　threads　as　part　of　its　beauty：

a　picture　annihilates　its　canvas：　　it　shows　nothing　of　it。

Porcelain　emphasises　its　glaze：　　water…colours　reject　the　paper。



A　picture　has　no　meaning　but　its　beauty；　no　message　but　its　joy。

That　is　the　first　truth　about　art　that　you　must　never　lose　sight

of。　　A　picture　is　a　purely　decorative　thing。









LONDON　MODELS









PROFESSIONAL　models　are　a　purely　modern　invention。　　To　the　Greeks；

for　instance；　they　were　quite　unknown。　　Mr。　Mahaffy；　it　is　true；

tells　us　that　Pericles　used　to　present　peacocks　to　the　great　ladies

of　Athenian　society　in　order　to　induce　them　to　sit　to　his　friend

Phidias；　and　we　know　that　Polygnotus　introduced　into　his　picture　of

the　Trojan　women　the　face　of　Elpinice；　the　celebrated　sister　of　the

great　Conservative　leader　of　the　day；　but　these　GRANDES　DAMES

clearly　do　not　come　under　our　category。　　As　for　the　old　masters；

they　undoubtedly　made　constant　studies　from　their　pupils　and

apprentices；　and　even　their　religious　pictures　are　full　of　the

portraits　of　their　friends　and　relations；　but　they　do　not　seem　to

have　had　the　inestimable　advantage　of　the　existence　of　a　class　of

people　whose　sole　profession　is　to　pose。　　In　fact　the　model；　in　our

sense　of　the　word；　is　the　direct　creation　of　Academic　Schools。



Every　country　now　has　its　own　models；　except　America。　　In　New　York；

and　even　in　Boston；　a　good　model　is　so　great　a　rarity　that　most　of

the　artists　are　reduced　to　painting　Niagara　and　millionaires。　　In

Europe；　however；　it　is　different。　　Here　we　have　plenty　of　models；

and　of　every　nationality。　　The　Italian　models　are　the　best。　　The

natural　grace　of　their　attitudes；　as　well　as　the　wonderful

picturesqueness　of　their　colouring；　makes　them　facile　…　often　too

facile　…　subjects　for　the　painter's　brush。　　The　French　models；

though　not　so　beautiful　as　the　Italian；　possess　a　quickness　of

intellectual　sympathy；　a　capacity；　in　fact；　of　understanding　the

artist；　which　is　quite　remarkable。　　They　have　also　a　great　command

over　the　varieties　of　facial　expression；　are　peculiarly　dramatic；

and　can　chatter　the　ARGOT　of　the　ATELIER　as　cleverly　as　the　critic

of　the　GIL　BLAS。　　The　English　models　form　a　class　entirely　by

themselves。　　They　are　not　so　picturesque　as　the　Italian；　nor　so

clever　as　the　French；　and　they　have　absolutely　no　tradition；　so　to

speak；　of　their　order。　　Now　and　then　some　old　veteran　knocks　at　the

studio　door；　and　proposes　to　sit　as　Ajax　defying　the　lightning；　or

as　King　Lear　upon　the　blasted　heath。　　One　of　them　some　time