SOME AUTUMN EXHIBITIONS.
No one who has hurried through the press view of a big exhibition, with his artistic sensibility reacting violently to the hundreds of assaults upon it by the opposing varieties of modern art, will see anything extraordinary about it, but future ages—if they are at all concerned with our art criticism —may wonder that the first example seen in London of Ivan Mestrovic's sculpture, and one of the most finished and central pieces of his beautiful and puissant art, should hardly have been mentioned in any of the critical notices of the exhibition in which it appeared. This is the International Society's exhibition in the Grosvenor Galleries, Bond Street. Mestrovic is a Servian sculptor who was the dominating influence and the contributor of most of the sculpture in that wonderful Servian pavilion, " The Temple of Kossovo," which, despite the money that we and other nations spent on our representation there, was the outstanding thing in the Rome Exhibition of 1912. Perhaps if those responsible for our collection had included a representative selection of the virile and original art of Mr. Augustus John, things might have been different; but as it was, the Servian pavilion was undoubtedly the most vital expression of contemporary art in that -great inter national assembly. Mestrovic's contribution was an avenue of caryatides leading to an heroic statue of the Servian hero of legend on horseback set in a domed hall, with decorations of triumphing advancing Turks and of Servians in slavery, crouching with flattened hands supporting the steps and doorways. Flanking the women caryatides, who stood waiting and enduring under the gaze of a great sphinx, were groups of widows, attended by Fates, mourning for their men and for the death of Servian freedom. The head of one of these widows, cast in bronze, is now in the Grosvenor Galleries. The attitude is like Watts's " Clytie," with one shoulder raised, the head turned sharply to one side. A feature of Mestrovic's work is the extraordinarily significant use he makes of the hair. Here it rises in great strong lines with a disposition of bosses that tell on the mind with the majesty and gloom of a great cloud. The face is abstract as a Stevens, but there is something wild and active within it, as one might expect from a sculptor who was once a shepherd, living in a half-barbaric land, where he was face to face with primitive passions and wild deeds, and had not to rely, as artists in modern civilisation must, on their imagination or on writings. From every angle of view this bust discloses new beauties, but its most impressive point is from below. It has the quality of nobility, and beside it even Rodin's two groups—they are not of his best—are only exercises in sculpture by a learned and gifted man. There are many interesting and challenging works in this exhibition, but my space only permits mention of such unusual things as Mr. Rickett's "Parable of the Virgins," where he has put a new sense of muscle into his charming compositions; Mr. W. Nicholson's "Nude" and "Rue" (Nos. 63 and 67), painted in oil on glass; Mr. Blanche's portrait of his mother (No. 62) ; Mr. Henry Bishop's "Town in the Valley" (No. 127); Mr. W. Reid Dick's sculpture. At the Goupil Gallery, Regent Street, there is a collection of modern painting which in scale and quality quite makes up for the loss of the New Gallery, which was given up to "moving pictures," which move themselves if they do not move the spectator. Mr. P. Wilson Steer, Mr. W. Nicholson, Mr. Orpen, Mr. Theodore Roussel, Mr. D. Y. Cameron, Mr. C. Sims, and Mr. Hughes-Stanton send of their best. Mr. Augustus John is represented by fifteen pictures of figures with landscape painted on wood. These works, painted in Ireland, are of the same character as the Welsh pictures he displayed here a couple of years ago, and show more vividly
the inventiveness of his design, for in most cases the figure, the style of dress, and landscape are of the same character. The astonishing ease of the painter and the pressure of pure, almost rank art-force he leaves on these small squares of painted wood to obsess, irritate, and delight the spectator, abash criticism. The main impressions that one takes away from John's work is that he makes us feel the importance and independence of the mere act of life, and that a rushing wind of health and the breath of Mother Earth runs through his art.
Another exhibition, now near its close, that should not be missed is the collection of works by Boris von Anrep at the Chenil Gallery, King's Road, Chelsea. The word " PostImpressionist " is commonly used to classify all art that differs in aim and method from nineteenth-century standards, but von Anrep's art is very old, even archaic, in its inspiration; it has little in common with the living Post-Impressionists, as it is a world of symbolism and of supernatural imaginings. More surely than any other contemporary artist he can arouse the sense of profundity. In draughtsmanship and use of his curious media he is greatly gifted, and by his convention of veils within veils he charges his designs with an extraordinary feeling of beauty disclosed. It is to be hoped that this remarkable artist will give London another chance to study his art. Many other exhibitions have opened their doors. The Royal Society of British Artists, now bereft of its president, holds a rather dull exhibition in its once famous galleries in Suffolk Street; the Royal Institute of Painters in Oil has a varied and interesting show in its galleries in Piccadilly ; and the Old Water-Colour Society's show is now opening in Pall Mall East. The smaller galleries have all budded out in autumn shows. Of these the Post-Impressionists at the Dore Galleries, Bond Street, with a good representation of Van Gogh, and the fine little bronze head of a baby by Epstein ; Mr. Walter Bayes's pictures at the Carfax Gallery, Bury Street ; the memorial exhibition of etchings of the late E. M. Synge at Messrs. Connell's gallery in Bond Street; and the very clever show of pictures of ducks and other farm studies by Mr. C. W. Simpson in the Baillie Gallery, 13 Bruton Street, are
among those that deserve consideration. J. B.
Previous page
