PATRONS OF ART.

Sun (Christchurch), Volume I, Issue 38, 21 March 1914, Page 4 (Supplement)

PATRONS OF ART.

OVERHEARD AT THE ANNUAL EXHIBITION.

" The Man Who is Cheerfully Ignorant of Art: "Jolly little picture, that—what!" The Critic: "My dear chap! The figure's all out of drawing, and the flesh tints—excruciating!" (Turns away and shudders.) - , The Intense Young Person: "After all, what is Art? Can it ever hope to approach Nature—even remotely—'' Her Chaperon (warningly): "S-sh!' There's a man standing behind you who holds very- opposite views, I can assure you,—besides, if you talk like that you niliy get a reputation for being clever!" . ■ i- ,.; The Soulful Lady: "Ah, to be able to lfearn the secret of the old masters-r—----tftit' will it ever be learned by presentday artists? We live in hope, but alas —"

Shrill voice from a group of ladies on a divan: "And we always have ours served hot, with butter sauce!" ■■ e ■ ' * . The Mere Man (to another of the same species): Helloa, what brought you here, old man?" The' Other (with intense weariness): "Oh, the wife, of course. Said she just had to come, and that meant that I had to come, too. Beastly bores, these art exhibitions." The Mere Man: "I'm in the same boat. The wife doesn't care about pictures any more than I do, but she had a" new dress, and she's here in the hope that people will look at it more than the exhibits." „ The Other: "The women will ...... Jolly dull here —what ,do you say to a little, stroll for a breath of air, —say as far as the hotel and back?" The Mere Man:,"Eh? What hotel?'' The Other (impatiently): "Oh, any hotel." (They disapepar.) The Artistic Young Lady wanders in —hair arranged in a Psyche knot, gown of a vague, mysterious cut that

defies diagnosis, general expression ar-

ranged to suggest a soul removed from mundane matters.. Her mamma, stout, matter-of-fact, and simmering with discontent, follows. Mamma: "I would ijiueh rather have gone to hear Dolores—but you have no idea what enjoyment is, you haven't.' What's the fun in standing abdut here until your legs are fit to drop off with tiredness—" '

Daughter (closing her eyeft): ' 1 Moth-ah! How you talk! 'Fun!' You don't come here for fun—" Mother: "I know I don't —I.came because you make me. But what you do come for?" . Daughter: "I come for Art's sake — to see, to learn, to wonder—" Mother ((crossly) :"Well, I wonder, too . .'. . . I wish, my dear, you'd have your dresses made sensibly—l must say you look queer compared with Miss Blank. I call her dress real pretty. " Daughter (hopelessly): "Oh oh dear —that impossible creation! No graceful lines,. no artistic, suggestions — just modern and—horrible. " The Mother (stubbornly); "Well, I don't care, she does look nice.'' Miss Blank (to attentive cavalier): "Oh, yes, I love coming along to these exhibitions—I never miss one."

The Cavalier: "Then I presume you are very fond of Art—you paint, per-' haps?" , Miss Blank (with a swift, guilty movement of hand to cheek): "I? Oh,, no. ' Tfyat is to say—l mean—l >love coming because everyone who is any l one comes along, don't you know. They're rather jolly in that way, aren't they?" v . The Patronising Lady: \"Oh yes, quite a nice little sketch—he has managed that sunset rather well, don't you think? I must say that I think it's,] quite tolerable." ] The" Artist in the back ground: "Tolerable! Tolerable! ! And I paintedj that picture!". ! The Mere Man (rieturned): " My i dear, have you seen and been seen I

enor.gh? Don't you think we might go home?" The Wife (ecstatically): J' All my y friends are positively yellow- with envy over my dress. They all tell me that I'm not looking at all well to-night, and I know by that how bad they feeling, and how good -my turn-out looks. I have enjoyed myself and I . think—yes, I think we might go home - now. (To her dearest -friend).'..'Oh, good evening, dear. "We're just going . I thought it was when I saw you.' - in. the distance—it was your dress first caught my eye. It's so well known, isn't it? What good wearing materials you always select.' " . Utter. collapse of her dearest friend,- ' and the Mere Man's.wife takes his awn" and makes a triumphal exit before the other as much as recovers her power of I speech, let alone wit.