THE BUSINESS SIDE OF ART.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLVIII, Issue 14691, 27 May 1911, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE BUSINESS SIDE OF ART.

BY TOHTTNGA.

The Art Society's Exhibition seems to, be osing that sad end depressing air of general woebegoneness which was for so long its chief claim to consideration. A bright and pleasing picture is no longer as noticeable as a genial smile in the chamber of death, there is still too great an inclination on the part of painters to weep over the woes of the world, to present Nature in its dullest moods, and to choose the grotesque as the vehicle of their talents. But the tendency is in the right direction, and as it grow will doubtless have a beneficent influence upon the business side of Art. To the Artist the business side of Art is supposed to be repellent, whereas it •9 in reality essential and interesting. Strange as it may seem to those who have never thought of it, tho most wonderful artist needs to eat and drink equally with tho most beautiful woman. You can no more live by rhapsodising to yourself over the song of the nightingale or the crimsons of a sunset than you can by reading admiration in the eyes of men. Bread and meat, house-rent and taxes, boots, colours, canvasses and cooking, all call for hard cash ; and by the term "artist" is understood the individual who lives, by exchanging his art-work for other men's qoirs of the realm, l'ho patrons of Art in Auckland are not those who part with a reluctant shilling to see the picture-show, but those who open their purses, whether light or heavy, and pay with pleasure and appreciation for the personal possession of a picture that appeals to them, and the price of which is within their means.

That the Art-side of a community is deserving of support goes without saying. Hie painting in oil or in water-colour, the sculpting of statuary, the writing: of books, tho making of music, all add gieatly to the satisfactions of human life. It is easy, of course, to import paintings and colour reproductions, prints, casts, books, music and phonographs and this importation is good as far as it goes. But local Art, national Art, has essential qualities on certain lines which are sought for in vain in the greatest works of foreign artists. Local Art is, or should be, our own, • expressing our own thoughts, aspiratiors, affections and environment, in terms which are familiar to our hearts and endeared to our eyes. As long as we have no local Art we are still only a band of aliens housed on alien shores, mere milkers of cows and fatteners of cattle for the upkeeping of a distant civilization in which we have no real part. This is a point which needs cautious and considerate handling. Perhaps it may best be explained by the generalisation that genius is international, but that talent is national and local. Shakespeare lias no country. Rembrandt is a citizen of the world. Beethoven speaks to every • European whether the Chinese understand him or not. But the Shakespeares, the Rembrandts, the Beethovens use .as peaks from the broad ranges of national work, of local effort and aspiration. , . 1

_It is natural and laudable that we should seek to know the unrivalled work of great foreign artists, but it is ridiculous affectation which ignores local artists in favour of the productions of a horde of foreigners, whose work sells to-day and to-morrow will be forgotten. Artists are working, in Auckland and other New Zealand cities, whose work is more than Creditable, is altogether worthy of encouragement and recognition. Yet how many prosperous New Zealand homes contain . examples of New Zealand ' artwork? How , many well-to-do New Zealanders are ready to pay as much for an admirable little painting, which will not only proclaim their taste but gratify their patriotic pride, as they pay for a woman's dress, a watch, or a piece of jewellery ? The pursuit of Art is usually an uphill game. _ Owing to a variety of reasons the artist is almost invariably and everywhere condemned to a severe struggle before .he can secure profitable recognition. But in New Zealand the painter has the added handicap of appealing to closed eyes and cottoned ears. Some have forced their way to the front, but the great majority of competent painters find their work ignored, while inferior imported work is received with greater favour. This ought not to be. For a country so isolated and so situated, a country so fair and so lovely, a country in which a million men and women and little children are working out a great destiny, must be great in Art, and devoted to Art, if it is to be great at all. For Art, brethren, in the sense we com--monly use it, is nothing more and nothing less than the expression in some concrete form of our emotional lives. Has a man ever really loved who did not think of her in poetry, who did not idealise her with all his heart And has a man ever given his' heart to his country whom its loveliness did not stir to the depths of his being, whom its sorrows did not rouse to the sullen anger which never cools ? To every man born of. woman is given as his birth-right the power to appreciate some form or other of artistic expression; and to those endowed by Providence with second sight and artistic skill is given the power of expression, which cultivated makes them "artists."

The man is dead indeed to the beautiful and the uplifting who can look around him in Auckland with ungrateful eyes, who can travel north or south, east or west, in New Zealand, and not thank God for this most beautiful, beautiful world. Other countries are fair, perhaps some are fairer, but this is ours. Its glorious winter days, its storm-swept coasts, its English grasses that beat back the tea-tree, and tho fern, its Northern trees that replace the duller growths of primeval ages, its homes and homesteads wherein strength is being gathered for the proving of our title with the inevitable sword —are ours, all ours. The singer who gives the New Zealander words for the inarticulate emotions that swell within him, and the painter who fixes upon canvas the scenes and the faces that move our souls—-are they not worthy of place at tho table

And here, with all kindliness and goodwill to the artist fraternity, it must be said that artists have not generally grasped tho art-sense of the New Zealand public. Many have, of course, but these suffer from the effects of a very common delusion of artists that the public does not knew what it wants. They think that tho Now Zealaudor should bo interested in views of Paris, Venice, and Devon; that ho ought to admiro historical subjects, allegorical subjects, technical studies and so forth; that since so much artwork lias been devoted to tho old lands and tho old conditions, it is proof of art to jog along in the well-worn ruts. Some artists appear to think that the only thing worth noticing in New Zealand is the Maori; and others evidently agree with tho Puritans that it is true wisdom to bo as gray and dull and sad as possible. Those who are inspired with the Now Zealander conceptions are thus badly handicapped in seeking tho sympathetic and practical appreciation of New Zealand buyers. The New Zealander, they should remember, is an Anglo-Celt., who has settled permanently in these islands. He loves his own yacht, if ho is a sailing man; his own horse, if ho is a riding man; his own sweetheart, if lie is a lover; his own home and his own environment. He dreams of his own seas, his own groves, his own pastimes, his own running waters] He sees his favourite metaphors in the blue skies that are above him, in the unfailing growth of the grasses ho has sown, tho trees he has planted, the stock ho tends. When once he realises that local painters are ready to give him pictures of tho things he owns, and loves, and dreams of, they need have little fear of foreign com. petitions