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Excerpt from New York Times
article, March 16, 1913
"Cubists and Futurists Are Making
Insanity Pay"
What does the work of the Cubists and Futurists
mean? Have these "progressives" really outstripped
all the rest of us, glimpsed the future, and used a form of artistic
expression that is simply esoteric to the great laggard public?
Is their work a conspicuous milestone in the progress of art?
Or is it junk?
The International Exhibition of Modern Art,
which has just come to a close in the Sixtyninth Regiment
Armory, with its striking array of the works of the "progressives,"
has during the past few weeks, set many a New Yorker to turning
this problem over in his mind.
Entirely apart from the canvases and sculptures
shown, this exhibition was unique among New York exhibitions.
It drew an attendance from a public outside that comparatively
limited one that ordinarily goes to art exhibitions.
Here was something revolutionary, something
in the nature of a ninedays' wonder, something that must
not be missed. New York did not miss it: the gate receipts show
that.
How the Public Acted.
A good part of New York grinned as it passed
along from one paintpuzzle to another. But the fact that
there were so many of these paintpuzzles, that they were
dignified by an exhibition, made New York, in spite of its grin,
wonder if there perhaps was not something in this new art which
was a little beyond the mental grasp of the uninitiated.
In circles where art had never before been
discussed, one heard the question:
"Have you been to see the Cubists and
the Futurists? Yes? Well, could you make anything out of it?"
The answer usually was:
"Why, I don't know much about art,
but it looked to me like a mess of nonsense."
The critics who usually are willing enough
to play the part of beacon light, were singularly unilluminating.
Here was an artistic storm and the critic beacons all turned
low!
A TIMES reporter went last week to ask Kenyon
Cox, recognized both here and abroad as being in the lonely forerank
of American art, to throw some light on this dark problem.
The artist was found in his handsome studio,
in slippered ease, an old corncob pipe between his teeth.
The reporter put his question bluntly:
"Will you give THE TIMES a straightfromtheshoulder
opinion on the Cubists and the Futurists? Do they mean something
in art, or do they mean nothing?"
Mr. Cox took a reflective puff or two, gazed
a moment at the few embers in the broad, stone fireplace as though
marshalling his thoughts, and then came the straightfromtheshoulder
opinion.
"The Cubists and the Futurists simply
abolish the art of painting. They deny not only any representation
of nature, but also any known or traditional form of decoration.
"A New Language."
"They maintain that they have invented
a symbolism which expresses their individuality, or as they say,
their souls.
"If they have really expressed their
souls in the things they show us, God help their souls!"
The corncob pipe was out. A match
was requisitioned. A few minutes of quiet puffs. Then:
"Talk to these people and they say:
"Here is a new language of art. You
have no right to criticize until you learn it."
"My answer is:
"'What would you think of a poet or
literary man suddenly inventing a new language and saying something
that sounds like pure gibberish?' 'Ah,' he remarks in answer
to your objections, 'you don't understand the language.'
A Strange Kind of Art.
"If this suppositious poet or literary
man were to say 'Wiggletywaggletywigglety,' and then
tell you that [any] combination of letters gives the [embod]iment
of dawn, how are you going to prove that it doesn't?
"Though I can't prove it as one can
prove a sum in simple arithmetic, it is my conviction that the
Cubists and the Futurists are giving us a wiggletywaggletywigglety
variety of art.
"Expression, no matter whether the
medium be a painting, a sculpture, a novel, or a poem, must either
be in a language that has been learned, or it is a pure assumption
on the artists' part that he has expressed anything at all.
"These Cubists and Futurists are doing
in painting what the Symbolists did in literature ten years ago.
That school of writers said that it didn't make any difference
what words were used; that the vowels had color, and that the
desired impression could be conveyed by these.
"As you'll remember, they succeeded
in making quite a few people believe that what they said was in
their verse was really there.
"That movement is now as dead as a
door nail, and the literary men of Paris have gone back to writing
French.
The puffs from the corncob came a little
quicker:
"And I don't think these Cubists and
Futurists will last much longer than did the Symbolists. Then
artists will go back to writing the universal language of art.
"The only question in my mind is: Are
these men the victims of auto suggestion or are they charlatans
fooling the public?"
The corncob pipe was put aside. The artist
paced the floor of his studio for a moment or two. Then, dropping
again into his armchair and still ignoring the apparently beloved
corncob:
"There is one point, and one on which
I feel strongly: This is not a sudden disruption or eruption
in the history of art. It is the inevitable result of a tendency
which has grown stronger and stronger during the last fifty years.
"It is a tendency to abandon all discipline,
all respect for tradition, and to insist that art shall be nothing
but an expression of the individual.
"It began with the Impressionists denying
the necessity of any knowledge of form or structure; indeed, preaching
that one should not know what things are, that he should only
see how they look. Even this preachment, however, implied a training
of the eye and a certain scientific discipline.
"The next step was for the PostImpressionists
to revolt again much discipline, to maintain that it does not
matter how things look, the only point of importance being how
you feel about them.
"With the PostImpressionists,
the personality of the artist became the only matter of moment.
It ended in the deification of Whim.
"As I have said, the Cubists and the
Futurists simply abolish the art of painting. They deny not only
any representation of nature, but also any known or traditional
form of decoration.
"They talk of their symbolism and their
soulexpression!
"The thing is pathological! It's hideous!"
There was a pause. Then the old corncob
was reached for; refilled; lighted.
"There is another element that comes
into it," continued the artist when the corncob was comfortably
under way. "Up to the time of Matisse, the revolutionaries,
I believe, were for the most part sincere enough. They paid for
their beliefs with their lives: they made no money out of their
beliefs; they committed suicide or died in madhouses.
"But with Matisse, with the later work
of Rodin, and above all, with the Cubists and Futurists, it is
no longer a matter of sincere fanaticism. These men have seized
upon the modern engine of publicity and are making insanity pay.
Back to Matisse.
"I should perhaps interpolate here
that a number of men who are responsible for the present movement
have done some beautiful work, but that does not prevent me thinking
that they are headed in the wrong direction.
"But, getting back to MatisseIf
I wanted to mention names I could add others to the listmany
of his paintings are simply the exaltation to the walls of a gallery
of the drawings of a nasty boy.
"I have always championed the nude."
(There are a number of large paintings of the nude on the walls
of his studio.) "I am not squeamish on that side of the question:
but I feel that in the drawings of some of these men there is
a professed indecency which is absolutely shocking."
Again a match was needed for the corncob.
"Do you believe that there is any sincerity
in this present development?" asked THE TIMES man.
"No, none. Of course that is only
my belief: one cannot get data on such a matter, it is my conviction,
though, that Matisse has his tongue in his cheek and his eye on
his pocket.
"Of course, there will be many who
will discount all that I have said as being the remarks of an
elderly academic painter. but if I am to speak of myself I can
frankly say that I am not the type of man who is a conservative
that cannot change the point of view that he had at twenty or
thirty years of age.
"Apart from what I have done in painting,
I have been a student of art and criticism all my life. I have
materially changed from the views I held as a young man.
"What I have said to you is not the
opinion of a conservative. It is founded on a lifetime given
to the study of art and criticism, in the belief that painting
means something.
"The basis of criticism?
"I might say that the traditions of
art, like the laws of social existence, are the outcome of human
effort extending over countless centuries.
"The great traditions of the world
are not here by accident. They exist because humanity found them
to be for its own good.
"Art has a social function. In all
the great periods of art it has spoken to the people in a language
that they understood and expressed what they would have it express.
"These men who would make art merely
expressive of their personal whim, make it speak in a special
language only understood by themselves, are as truly anarchists
as are those who would overthrow all social laws.
"But the modern tendency is to exalt
individualism at the expense of law. The Cubists and the Futurists
simply exhibit a very extreme and savage form of this individualism,
an individualism exaggerated and made absurd for the sake of advertising.
"What it finally means is, either there
will be a reaction toward the classic and the traditional or art
will cease to exist.
"Naturally, I prefer to believe in
the reaction, to think that some of us who are now considered
belated classicists may turn out to be the real precursors."
"A few moments ago," suggested
THE TIMES man, "you mentioned the great Rodin as having been
an influence in the present movement."
"Yes," said Mr. Cox, earnestly,
"and a very big one. That row of drawings in the Rodin gallery
in the Metropolitan Museum of Art is a calamity. They have made
people try to see what does not exist."
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