ART AT THE EXHIBITION.

Otago Witness, Issue 3764, 4 May 1926, Page 29

ART AT THE EXHIBITION.

THE ART GALLERY. XXIII. In the foregoing series of articles an attempt has been made to deal comprehensively with the pictures in the gallery, classifying them according to nationality or the trend of thought which inspires them, dealing individually with those pictures which have some special message to convey, and using others as illustrations of some general idea. But there is one thing about the Art Gallery which has not yet been mentioned, a. d that is—the Art Gallery itself. Art galleries as a rule do not form such a centre of attraction as. let us say, the Dodgem Cars! It is a fact that there are many thousands of people permanently resident in Dunedin who have never visited the Dunedin Public Art Gallery. Tlr is not on-y because most of them have no practical interest in Art. but because the gallery is in such a position that the only visitors are those who actually go with the intention of visiting it. One cannot imagine auyone, hurrying to catch a train, dropping in at the gallery for a few minutes on the way! Nor can one imagine the same thing happening to the tired workers coming from the station at night, or the visitor, laden with luggage, anxiously seeking accommodation. And yet it is these people who form the vast bulk of the traffic which passes the gallery. It is not situated in or on the route to or from any public resort, such as the Gardens or the beaches, or in any busy thoroughfare where it might attract the attention of thousands of passers-by, who at present hardly know of its existence. Not only j is the Dunedin Public Art Gallery out of the way, but there is something about the interior which has such an effect on the casual visitor who knows nothing of Art tliat_ he goes away with a headache and the idea that Art is something gloomy and oppressive, and the result is that he does not return again, but stavs awa’u convinced that Art is not for him, but only for the select few. But who could get a' headache in the Exhibition Art Gallery? Of all the galleries which the writer has seen at Home and in Europe, this is one of the most cheerful and fascinating. The variety in shape and size of the rooms, the fine design of the connecting arches, the feeling of space overhead (the absence of which is vyhat generally creates “that gallerv feeling” which usually stops visitors), and the ideal lighting all reflect the greatest credit on the architect, and considerably enhance the value of the very beautiful and carefully designed arrangement of the pictures (which is all the more wonderful when one considers the very short space of time in which it was accomplished). One feels that a verv lar-e measure of thanks ic due to the director of the Art Gallery, Mr Ernest Marsh, not only for giving ns the very best with the means at his disposal, but also for his entirely gratuitous services to the public generally in giving advice and information on every conceivable subject connected with Art. One feels that here indeed is a man who loves Art for its own sake and will spare no pains in the furtherance of its cause. The setting and the way in which a picture is shown will do much to make or mar it. The finest picture, in uncongenial surroundings, will lose its attraction, and even appear a failure, while quite a poor work will look well if placed in a favourable light, and surrounded by pleasant colours and conditions. There are several very fine pictures, indeed, in the Dunedin Public Art Gallery, notably the one by Stanhope Forbes, which is superior to anything which the Council has furchased at the Exhibition Gallery. |sut they are all crowded together, in a bad light and gloomy atmosphere, which one Dunedin citizen referred to once as that of a mausoleum! And, indeed, one feels that the pictures placed'there are dead. But what -a resurrection there would be if they were removed to the Exhibition Gallery! The attractiveness of the.place, situated in the centre of what will be a public recreation ground, would cause people to flock there to see the treasures they possess, of which at present they are mostly ignorant. Of the many thousands of visitors to the Exhibition there have been very few indeed who have not faid a visit to the gallery, and many who have never professed any love of Art have returned again and again to enjoy the cheerful atmosphere, and thus have obtained a knowledge of things which have hitherto been a closed book. Not the least feature of the arrangement of the pictures is the way in which certain values have been accentuated, and drawn attention to, by contrast. Contrast is essential to any good design. A number of large pictures placed together lose their bigness, and also their individual strength, because one's attention is constantly distracted away from one to another, and one is unable to concentrate on any. In the same way one can walk through a gallery full of small pictures, and have no recollection of any of them. But the rooms of the Exhibition Gallery arc masterpieces of arrangement. Large portrait® are given an

added dignity by bciug flanked with bronzes, or smaller pictures or a different character, such as landscapes. {Small pictures of importance are given their proper value by adequate space and care-fully-considered placing, while even important works are given a chance to show their merits by not being herded together with others of the same kind, but by contrasts in subject, shape, and size. Even in the water-colour and black and white rooms, which are necessarily crowded owing to the limited space and large number of pictures, the arrangement is such that one’s attention is immediately directed to the more important work without losing sight of the remainder. That* all this is due to the energy and thought of the director of the gallery might escape tlvc notice of some visitors, who take such tilings for granted. There is no doubt that this arrangement was considerably helped by the design of the gallery itself. The idea of a central court with others radiating from it, is, of course, not new, and in this case had to be considerably modified to suit the space provided. On first entering the gallery one’s interest is immediately aroused, not only by the beautifully arranged works in Room A itself, but by the suggestion of something further, seen through the arches at the sides—glimpses of bright colour, and, what is more, variety. From the centre of Room A we have four avenues to look through, all totally different. The rich, heraldic colour of the British room, with, at one end. like a beautiful opal in a golden setting, Sims’s “Wedgwood,” and the light, graceful tones of the water colour rooms on one side. On the other, the vigorous, naturalistic American work in strong contrast to the delicate refinement of the etchings. As one walks through the gallery, there are numbers of glimpses which are in themselves sufficiently attractive, without any individual attention being paid to the pictures. The contrasting tones and colours of the different rooms, the groups of pictures or statuary framed by the fine connecting arches or the long views from either end of the Gallery are things which will live in visitors’ minds and make them realise that Art is alive, arid an art gallery not a mausoleum or even a museum, but something which is essentially progressive. There is a very fine picture made by looking from Room F, through Room A to Room N. Framed in the lightness of the archway (with the amusing little bronze animals on either side) one sees the rich dark tones of the pictures and bronzes in the centre room, broken by the splash of bright colours of the American pictures. But there is something more in this view. Side by side one sees Orpen’s “Armistice Night”—or “Men run riot,”—and the first three American pictures—or “Nature run riot,” —and it is a curious thing that the latter should always be considered beautiful and the former ugly! But in the opinion of the writer the finest view in the gallery is that from Room G across Room A to Room B. Standing by the side of the little bronze, “The Kiss,’ in Room G, one sees concentrated under the arch a very beautiful group, the picturesqueness of which is considerably helped by the further arch being set at an angle to the near one, and the differer.ee in perspective of the further pictures. It is also a very fine piece of colour consisting ot large spaces of white and tone, broken by brilliant pieces of colour and gold, and considerably helped by the black lettering over the door. Besides this there is in this group, if one cares to look for it, all the material of which British Art is made, and, in fact, on which British greatness is founded—namely, the Church, the children, the desire to light evil, arid, lastly, the country itself. It requires no stretch of imagination to find these four factors represented in this group. The “Meeting of the Virgin and St. Elizabeth,” by Anning Bell R.A.. stands for the church; the “Three Children Singing” by Professor Rothenstein, and the “Fairies” by Phoebe Stabler represent the children; the “St. George Triumphant” by Reynolds Stephens is the war-like spirit against evil; and the beautiful “Midsummer Dawn” of George Clausen. R.A.. is the country itself. As was explained before, British Art originated in the time of the manuscript writers and illuminators —that is, it was the servant of religion. Religion has never lost its hold on British art, though at times it has not been very obvious. But the greatest of all British paintings—“ Christ Washing Peter’s Feet,” by Ford Madox Brown, and the “Triumph of the Innocents ” by Holman Hunt (both in the National Gallery, London) are essentially religious. When British artists abandon the religious inspiration, then their art will descend to chaos. Anothei feature which has nearly always characterised British Art is its child 1 ike simplicity and cleanness, and the power to see beyond the subject and hold something in reserve, as a child does. Fairy tales may he “childish,” and fit only for the nursery, but it must be remembered that they are a great stimulant to the imagination, and have actually been thel source of great scientific discoveries. The story of King Arthur may be . a fairy tale, but it has formed the subject of some of the greatest British paintings. In addition to this, children themselves have been a great •source of inspiration to British artists. In no other art in the world have things been represented with such deep and sympathetic understanding. The children of the English-speakine man have always been his chief treasure, and they will continue to be so if grown-ups will only learn more from children, instead of stuffing them so much with grown-up knowledge. British Art has never talked much about itself, it has been too concerned with the doing of it. But there has been a tendency lately to be very “clever” about art (wnieh is very different to being scientific, because science is knowledge, and cleverness may be only parrot-like imitation), and to dismiss ns “childish” anything which is simple or imaginative. And “cleverness” will kill Art quicker than anything else. British Art has always been characterised by its sanity. The art of some other countries has frequently become obsessed by soma particular subject or technical method which has become such a craze as to actually exterminate the Art itself. But British Art has always maintained a stern (perhaps even, too stern) front against rash innovations or departures from tradition, which are frequently begun, in all good faith, but very soon become pitfalls for the unwary and instruments for evil in the hands of charlatans, as is the case with a great deal of so-called “modern” art. It has, also, always taken a firm stand against actual moral evil. The subjeot matter of British Art has maintained a higher standard than that of any country in the world And this is not hypocrisy on the

part of the artists, because they themselves are not Bohemians of doubtful morality, as some think, but respectable and staunch citizens of the Empire, with the highest ideals. St. George also stands for another aspect of British Art. and that is, the inspiration which has been given to it by the deeds of the army and navy. This is not see'i so much in the creation of pictures and sculpture (although the war has provided the incentive for many fine memorials) because pictures of battles, by artists who have never seen such things, cannot he termed art. But a visit to the British Government Pavilion will perhaps show what is meant. The whole design and arrangement of this beautiful court are inspired by the same spirit which made men shout, “St. George for England” as they scrambled on to the mole at Zeebrugge. The record 1 of the British army is one of glorious deeds in the wide spaces of the world, ana the j design of this court consists of bursts of j brilliant colour in wide architectural spaces. I The use of gold and brilliant colours con- ) trasted with large spans has been a charac- / teristic of British Art since the days of ( the manuscript illuminators. Scarlet, j especially, is a distinguishing feature, and its origin is military. Probably few \ people know that the scarlet coat ot the i British soldier is unique in military history, j and is a symbol of his courage. Sec how / bravely and yet how successfully Sims has introduced the scarlet cloak in his picture 1 “The Piping Boy,” which otherwise has no ' bright colours. It is the courage of the 1 British arms which has inspired British { artists to tackle colour schemes which would frighten artists of other nations. It should be a source of great gratification of all lovers of Art. that Clausen’s beautiful “Midsummer Dawn” lias been presented to the Dunedin Public Art Gallery > through the generosity of an anonymous donor. It is the love of country which , makes landscape the most- popular form of , art among English-speaking people. It is i the love of country which has caused the ) British people to spread to every part of > the world, and caused Scotchmen to cross ! the earth to establish a piece of Scotland \ in a savage and untamed land. But this picture is not only a beautiful landscape. It is an allegory. It, means that we. like Innocent Smith in Chesterton's “Manalive.” have left Home in order to find it. We are the same race and ' have the same ideals as the man who * painted this picture, and when it hangs 1 in our gallery it should serve always to / remind us that the sun never sets, but- is / always rising on some branch of our great ’« and far-reaching family. j