Giles Auty
Although I have acquired hundreds of books on art over the years, I remain slightly uncertain why a good many of them were written. Were the authors trying to dazzle readers with their scho- larship of the obscure, or aiming genuinely to resurrect reputations which had fallen unjustly into disrepute? Or were they simply attempting to find some last area of worthwhile research unprobed by the ant- like hordes of young American art histo- rians? While occasional books bring fresh insights into areas of art one thought one knew backwards, greater numbers grind out familiar tales unconvincingly. Presum- ably money enters the equation some- where but I cannot pretend to know the real ins and outs of that vast and growing industry which is art-book publishing. What I can claim to be is a compulsive, if not entirely typical consumer. Over the years, bookshops concentrating on art publications have been no less compelling sources of attraction for me than plant nurseries, a state of affairs exacerbated by the coming of the credit card.
Both types of purchase give great and continuing satisfaction and even provide a handy yardstick for the other's attractive- ness and worth. Looking at some of the more expensive, recently published books on art, I can make straight comparisons of desirability with, say, a good example of the tree pyrus salicifolia. For less costly ones the choice might be against an un- usual, deciduous ceanothus.
Two recent books which would get the nod even over the most attractive shrubs are The Triumph of Light and Nature: Nordic Art 1740-1940 by Neil Kent (Thames & Hudson, £20) and Gustave Caillebotte by Kirk Varnedoe (Yale, £19.95). The former extends the field covered last year by the highly successful Arts Council exhibition 'Dreams of a Summer Night', which concentrated on Scandinavian painting at the turn of the last century. Neil Kent's well-argued text leads one from early court painting, the Danish Golden Age and the strong ele- ments of nationalism and mysticism pre- sent in 19th-century Scandinavian art to- wards the more international feel which crept into nordic cultures in the early years of this century. The author knows and is refreshingly enthusiastic about his subject and has chosen over 200 illustrations with care. He brings artists to our attention who ought to be much better known on the international stage.
Gustave Caillebotte (1848-1894) is a painter whose artistic reputation has al- ways struck me as being a good deal less substantial than is due. The fact that Caillebotte was a rich man and generous collector of art, who left a great body of Impressionist works to the French nation, has consistently obscured his primary achievement. Kirk Varnedoe, who is Pro- fessor of Fine Arts at New York Universi- ty, sets about his chosen programme of artistic rehabilitation with uncommon gus- to. An analysis, aided by diagrams, of Caillebotte's best known masterpiece 'Rue de Paris: Temps de Pluie' is an object- lesson in sensitive perception and is one of the many glories of this book. Professor Varnedoe's singular achievement lies in his ability to state convincingly what the artist was trying to do in his paintings. The author's comprehension of drawing is also of a level seldom encountered among art historians and he calls on a further expert, Peter Galassi, to comment with great knowledge on questions of pictorial space, construction and perspective. Both men write clearly and are served by well chosen illustrations. Design and reproduction are also good and there is a wealth of pictorial material. Aspiring artists and others can learn much of value from this work.
Yale University Press is also the pub- lisher of Gwen John by Cecily Langdale (£29.95). Since the advent of feminism few could claim that the life or works of Gwen John have suffered any neglect. This is as it should be for she was an excellent artist. Cecily Langdale investigates her life and art thoroughly, aided by access to new material. A catalogue raissone of the artist's paintings and selection of her draw- ings adds greatly to the book's value as a reference document. The image presented of the artist is a balanced one. Her weak- nesses are neither stressed nor omitted, nor her personal life sensationalised. The resulting study has much of the quiet credibility of the artist's own portraits.
Two other books I would certainly con- sider adding to my collection, at the expense of the garden, are Degas by Himself edited by Richard Kendall (Mac- donald Orbis, £30) and The Glory of Watercolour by Michael Spender (David & Charles, £25). The former contains over 250 colour plates as well as numerous reproductions of sketches in a variety of media. Many of the works illustrated gain in impact through their unfamiliarity and this sense of freshness is maintained in an extensive text chosen skilfully from Degas' notebooks and letters and from the diaries of Daniel Hale'vy. The Glory of Water- colour draws its 135 colour illustrations from the superb collection held by the Royal Watercolour Society. Often indi- vidual works are accompanied by detailed illustrations which help demonstrate clear- ly the command of brushwork and clever use made of media by some of the best in the business. This is not just a fascinating history of the RWS but a most valuable handbook for the practitioner.
None of the foregoing books has been written to fill a hole in the market. Theme books are less desirable in every way than those arising from an author's genuine desire to add some further historical in- sight, yet many are attractive enough and at least superficially informative. Women Artists: An Illustrated History by Nancy G.
Heller (Virago, £30) strikes me as making use of an artificial device and would be no more interesting per se than a book on left-handed artists — but then I am not left-handed. I would choose it, however, some lengths ahead of Pre-Raphaelite Women by Jan Marsh (Weidenfeld, £20) which seems an essay merely in the pretty and cosmetic. I am not a fan of liatris spicata in the garden for similar reasons.
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