A SPECTATOR'S NOTEBOOK
MR. WYNDHAM LEWIS' portrait of Mr. T. S. Eliot is creating more of a stir than it really deserves. The artist will certainly revel in the publicity ; Mr. Augustus John will quite like it and the Royal Academy will no doubt hate it. The Academy has come out in a rather unexpected light. First of all it showed a certain perspicacity in not being taken in by Mr. Lewis' surface respectability and the traditionalism which he now boasts the painting shows. Then the President even displayed some defiance in his speech to the Chelsea Arts Club on the subject ; though unfortunately what he said only succeeded in further confusing an already muddled situation. His defence of the Academy's action was that the Academy stands for "real art." I doubt if any of us know what those words mean, but on any definition Mr. Lewis' painting must be as much real art as the works of the Royal Academy. It is serious and sincere, however dis- tasteful it may be. Mr. Lewis has a tortuous mind and cannot help expressing himself in a rather tortuous way. But that has nothing to do with his paintings not being art. Personally I dislike his tortuousness and I believe that his appeal is limited by it ; but then I also dislike Mr. Eliot's tortuousness in his poetry. At most one might make the distinction that Mr. Elioes obscurity is absolutely spontaneous, whereas that of Mr. Lewis is often second-hand. But the Academy can hardly start turning things down because they are not absolutely original and first-hand. If it did, its rooms would be almost empty. * * * *
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