23 April 2019

Primitive and Essential Things

Max Beerbohm, "The Golden Drugget," And Even Now (London: William Heinemann, 1920), p. 117:
Primitive and essential things have great power to touch the heart of the beholder. I mean such things as a man ploughing a field, or sowing or reaping; a girl filling a pitcher from a spring; a young mother with her child; a fisherman mending his nets; a light from a lonely hut on a dark night.

Things such as these are the best themes for poets and painters, and appeal to aught that there may be of painter or poet in any one of us. Strictly, they are not so old as the hills, but they are more significant and eloquent than hills. Hills will outlast them; but hills glacially surviving the life of man on this planet are of as little account as hills tremulous and hot in ages before the life of man had its beginning. Nature is interesting only because of us. And the best symbols of us are such sights as I have just mentioned — sights unalterable by fashion of time or place, sights that in all countries always were and never will not be.
Hat tip: Anecdotal Evidence

Paul Eduard Crodel, Frühjahrslandschaft mit Ochsenpflug  (1886)

17 April 2019

Build Your Own Library

Donald Davidson (1893-1968), "A Mirror for Artists,"  I'll Take My Stand: The South and the Agrarian Tradition (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1978), p. 40:
[P]ublic libraries, which tend ever to become more immense and numerous, pervert public taste as much as they encourage it. For the patrons are by implication discouraged from getting their own books and keeping them at home. Their notion is that the state — or some local Maecenas — will take care of their taste for them, just as the police take care of public safety. Art galleries and libraries are fine enough in their way, but we should not be deceived into putting our larger hope in them.

John Frederick Peto, Take Your Choice (1885)

12 April 2019

The Decisive Significance of the Truth

Theodor Haecker in an entry from 1940, Journal in the Night, tr. Alexander Dru (London: Pantheon Books, 1950), p. 22:
In spite of a gigantic weight of lies the things of this world still function for an astoundingly long time without breaking to pieces; they almost seem to be strengthened. It is a mysterious and awful fact, and a great temptation to the spirit, to doubt the decisive significance of the truth in regard to the events in this world. But it is only a temptation: deep inside the spirit of man there is an assurance that lies destroy a man, and also a nation.
Jean-Léon Gérôme, Truth Emerging From the Well, 
Armed With Her Whip to Chastise Mankind  (1896) 

A related post: No Strength Without Truth

11 April 2019

Giraudon's Artist

A few photographs from L'Artiste, a series published by Adolphe et Georges Giraudon in the 1870s:








From a post on the James Hyman Gallery web site:

"Giraudon presumably commissioned these photographic genre studies from an artist active near Barbizon as the imagery and compositions directly echoes that of Millet and other Barbizon painters. Despite the mounting and stamping of several of these prints, which suggest a publishing venture, these works are extremely rare. None were found in the Giraudon archives, nor in sales catalogues of the period."


Related posts:

5 April 2019

It Is Extremely Difficult for the French

I try to avoid the news in general, and political news in particular, but time was hanging heavy on my hands yesterday and I watched some of the Brexit shenanigans in the House of Lords. Although I'm sure he didn't intend to be funny, Lord Marlesford's comments made me laugh out loud:
Lord Marlesford:

My Lords, I will speak very briefly, following up the words of my noble friend Lord Lawson about the impact on public opinion of the procedures in Parliament in relation to this Bill, which could be very serious. The example I give to noble Lords is that of France, once our hereditary enemy, now our great friend. Why is it that France is so much harder to manage and govern than Britain? Let me give the obvious example. If public protests in Britain turn into violent riots, the public do not like it. Even if they agree with the original cause, they tend to tell Parliament to sort it out. When that happens in France, the French Government normally have two choices: send in the CRS to break their heads, or give in. They usually give in. It is extremely difficult for the French. This all dates back to 1789 —

Noble Lords:

Oh!

Lord Marlesford:

It dates back to the French Revolution, and the failure of the then very inefficient monarchical Government, the Estates General. They met on 5 May and split, and the Third Estate — the people — went off to the tennis court and objected. The result was that, a few days later, the Bastille was stormed. The King was executed in February 1792, then came a year of terror between July 1793 and July 1794, which ended when Robespierre was guillotined. The French, therefore, are very conscious of the inadequacies of their form of government and of their Parliament.​

Recently, seeking an outsider to run the show, they elected President Macron. They did not know very much about him, but they have now woken up to the fact that, far from being an outsider, he is actually the archetypal insider. They have shown their annoyance and rage through the gilets jaunes. We should consider the impact of this legislation — or rather, of the way it is being handled — on public opinion, because we do not want gilets jaunes here.

Jacques-Louis David, Le Serment du Jeu de paume (1791)

2 April 2019

I Do Not Want My Boy to Become an Artist

J. G. Chapman, The Elements of Art (London: David Bogue, 1848), pp. 22-23:
Fathers and Teachers — call not your boys idle fellows, when you find them drawing in the sand. Give them chalk and pencil — let them be instructed in design. “But,” you say, “I do not want my boy to become an artist.” Depend upon it, he will plough a straighter furrow, and build a neater and better fence, and the hammer or the axe will fit his hand the better for it: for from it, no matter what may be his calling in life, he will reap advantage. Last, not least, you give him a source of intellectual enjoyment, of which no change of fortune can deprive him, and that may secure his hours of leisure from the baneful influence of low and ignoble pursuits.

Albrecht Dürer, Self-portrait, Study of a Hand and a Pillow (1493)